Broken Memories


A Valentine for my husband of 46 years.  In all the years of pain, loss, joy, and happiness, we have fallen in and out of love many times.  Today, we have found each other again. And this is what came to mind today. I love you old man, I always have, even when I got lost in the sorrow.

Broken Memories

Memories of your arms

holding me, hands touching me

reaching for you, touching

broken memories.

Memories of laughter

sunshine days, warm nights

gentle loving,

touching broken memories.

Memories of joy

memories of contentment

careful words, giving

broken memories.

Memories of loneliness

memories of emptiness

memories of needing you

lost in broken memories.

Memories of growing old

lost and alone

finding you in my heart

mending broken memories.

Reaching for your arms

touching your love

finding warmth

leaving behind broken memories.

Every Day Heroes


A friend told me about an accident she and her husband came upon the other day. A car was on fire, and someone was trying to get out. Her husband jumped out of their vehicle and ran to help him get out, stayed with him until medical people arrived to fly the injured driver out to a hospital. Her husband was banged up a bit, but fine. Everyone was commenting on how much of a hero he was for helping and putting himself at risk. She demurred. I wrote in her comment section the following.

“Heroes are every day people who do extraordinary things without worrying about the consequences.”

I thought on that later, and I have come to the decision that all of us are everyday heroes during our lives. Often we don’t think of our actions as heroic or special. We simply react to what is happening in the best way we can. Sometimes it is helping someone survive a horrific accident. Sometimes it is taking soup to a sick friend. Sometimes it is a listening ear, and sometimes a swift kick in the attitude of someone having a pity party.

Saving a life is a big deal. It is a lot of responsibility and takes someone with inner strength of steel and granite to do what has to be done. Pulling someone out of burning building, out of the twin towers; running into the line of fire to rescue someone, standing up to the local bully to protect someone; leaving the abusive spouse, male or female, and taking the children with you; moving back home to take care of aging parents and giving up your plans to raise a child you didn’t expect to raise. All of those are heroic things. It takes guts, selflessness, and a willingness to deal with unforeseen consequences due to your actions to fulfill the title of hero.

Some people have jobs that are more like callings which are intrinsically heroic. Fire fighters, Law enforcement, Military men and women, Emergency Medical Personnel, are all in highly dangerous occupations. People are willing to accept those dangers. They train and work hard to gain the skills to do their jobs to the highest degree of proficiency. They are heroic in going out into the harsh world and fulfilling their duty.

Some people are heroes for taking on responsibility that they didn’t sign up for in their lives. They don’t run into burning buildings or chase down criminals, nor do they go out and put an end to evil regimes that threaten their countries and ours. These are the average moms and dads who sacrifice career advancements, educational opportunities, and being upwardly mobile so that one of them can stay home and raise their children. These are the single moms and dads, who, for whatever reason, are raising their children without benefit of a spouse. These are the single parents who are working, going to school full time, and being a mom or dad too. They could easily drop the kids into the system, hand them off to grandparents or other family members, but choose to be the mom and dad, provider, and give up personal time to be the best parent they can be.

There are heroes who teach, guide, lead, discover, and reach out to students who are on the verge of becoming another statistic to the poverty, gangs, and violence of their cultural world. Older men and women who set out to be an example to younger men and women, becoming a mentor and someone who believes in a young man or woman who has never had an advocate for their potential. And some heroes who coach and shape young people into strong, independent, thinking adults become the silent hero in the lives of the lonely, lost, and ignored. Most of them never know they made a difference just by their example.

And there are the every day people who reach out to everyone around them with friendship. Sometimes all it takes is just one person to change the life of another in a positive way after the slings and arrows of life has beaten them down. To the one they helped, they are doing something extraordinary. They cared enough to encourage someone on the abyss to keep going, not to give up, and ask for nothing in return. Sometimes all it takes is one person, just one, to change the trajectory of the world for another lost or grieving soul. Who is your hero?

Every day people, doing extraordinary things . . . think about it.

Where Is The Joy?


Recently, I sat in a room full of people waiting for an appointment. I joined the people around me and sat with them for nearly an hour. In all that time not one person started up a conversation. Now these people weren’t sick with the flu or any sort of illness that would have them feeling miserable. And though there could have been some anxiety among them due to upcoming tests, it wasn’t something that would be catastrophic news if it were negative. So, why, I wondered, was the room filled with miserable, grumpy, unhappy people?

When I sat down, I greeted the lady next to me by asking if the seat was available. She nodded, and humphed at me, like I was bothering her by asking. I was being polite, I could have just plopped myself down and ignored her. I smiled and thanked her. She shrugged and muttered, “Whatever.” Okay, so she was in a sour mood. Happens to all of us. But she wasn’t the only person with that sour attitude.

Okay, no one likes to wait at a doctor’s office. I get that. I don’t either, but instead of sitting there being put out, I plan for the wait. I have my Kindle, or a book, or something to work on. I hate just sitting with nothing to do, unless I am talking to someone. So I got my Kindle out, to continue reading a very funny story. I try, when reading in public, not to laugh out loud since it can bother others, and it makes me look slightly, um, off. But, the book was really funny, and I got caught off guard and laughed out loud at the story.

Holy Cats! The looks I got would make you think I had passed gas or something. Ten or more sets of eyes turned toward me as I laughed. They were glaring, and faces looked angry or annoyed, brows drawn, mouths frowning, and not one word was said. Nothing. Just glares. It was freaky, like they were all connected by a puppet master. For a heartbeat I almost apologized. However, something rebellious in me wouldn’t let me. Holding up my Kindle, I said, “This is a great story. The writer really has a way with humor.” Normally, someone would ask the name of the book, or comment about humor. Not that day. Nope. The grumpy woman next to me actually got up and moved one seat over. Really! “Huh!” I thought, “Excuse me for having a sense of humor.” I went back to reading.

This whole event got me to thinking about people in public. The question that kept jumping out was, “Where is the joy?” Is it now forbidden to be happy in public? Are we not supposed to laugh at things? When did it become rude to be polite? The people in that room were all about my age, some older, a few younger, but we were all pretty much of the same generation. We were raised to be polite, respectful, and to know how to casually chat in a public setting. As a people, have we forgotten how to communicate with one another unless it is by typing on a computer or phone? Or is it just no longer socially acceptable to acknowledge those around you?

Even when people are talking to each other, they have their eyes constantly moving toward their device of choice, just in case a remote being contacts them. Most of the time, people in public aren’t laughing together, everyone seems so serious, like happiness is forbidden. So, I ask you, Where is the JOY? Why is there a pervasive feeling of negativity around people most of the time.

Last time I went to the grocery, I was greeted by a lady that has worked there for as long as I can remember. When she started, she worked in the Pharmacy. When I was desperately ill for a year, she handled most of my prescriptions. Since my husband was in there several times a week for nearly a year, she got to know him well. When I was finally healthy enough to leave the house, we went to the store and she walked right up to me and hugged me. “Mrs. Combs, I have been praying for you every day. I am so happy to see you are well enough to get out of the house. Your husband sure does love you.” We chatted for a few minutes. Fast forward to now. The lady who greeted me was laughing and telling everyone hello. She greeted many by name, and when she saw me she walked up and hugged me, practically dancing me around in her joy to see me. “Mrs. Combs! I am so glad to see you today, you feeling well?” Her JOY was amazing. Everyone who met her smiled, everyone was glad to see her too, and the few who just walked by in their grumpy world, she simply let go. It didn’t bother her, and she didn’t let it infect her joy. I hate shopping, but I look forward to her greeting every time I go, because she makes me happy no matter how busy, inattentive, frustrated, or hectic my life is. At that moment, I am distracted from the nonsense and engulfed in her JOY!

So, people, Where Is YOUR Joy? Why do we plod through the day, when we can dance through it? How have we allowed ourselves to be afraid to be happy in public. You know, my Grannie used to say, “Smile, honey. It makes people wonder what you have been up to.” She was right. Smiling has a very strong response from everyone. Some smile back, some nod, some people ignore your smile, but most just act like you have insulted them by being rude enough to be happy or polite.

Everyone is angry, in fact the younger generation seems to make angry the “go to” emotion of their daily life. Being offended is an art among a lot of people. And, if you dare to be happy, or even content, you will be condemned, either overtly or covertly by people around you. I don’t get it. I was raised to be polite, to smile in greeting people, and to conduct simple chats with strangers in a public setting. I want to be happy, but for years let myself be shamed into being mute.

The rebel in me refuses to allow that from now on. I am going to be like the lady at the grocery. I am going to smile and greet everyone with a sense of Joy. And if they ignore it or dislike it, I will let them go on their grumpy, angry way. But I will have done my part in being Joyful. It is up to them to pass it on. I ask you again, Where Is The Joy in your life?

Favorites


I was cutting onions for a soup this afternoon. I was using my favorite paring knife, one I’ve had for over twenty-five years. I like my knife, and it annoys me when someone else uses it. “Huh,” I thought, “I wonder if that is weird or if other cooks feel that way about their knives.” I have probably close to two dozen, mostly very sharp, knives in my kitchen. Most of them have a certain purpose for chopping, cutting, or what ever needs done to make a meal. If I had to chose five to keep, I already know which five are my favorite. Is that weird, or is it any different from anyone who uses any sort of tools on a regular basis?

I know my Dad had his favorite tools that he liked to use for different projects. He also had his favorite guitar, mandolin, fiddle, bass, amplifier, microphone, and hat. My mom had her favorite sewing machine, and heaven help us if we messed up her favorite cast iron frying pan. My Grannie had her favorite needle, and she like a certain kind of thread to quilt with, and my Granddad absolutely had his favorite hammer, I remember because he yelled at me for playing with it when I was a little kid. He also had his favorite razor that he sharpened on his razor strap. I got spanked with the strap once too. But only once. I learned to never lie to him that day.

My husband has his favorite guns, pistol, long gun, and shot gun. His favorite type of ammo for each. He has his favorite tools for his computers and tech gizmos, and his favorite kind of electronics to test for problems. And he is picky about all sorts of tools in the garage and house.

I have my favorite writing tools, things like dictionaries, thesaurus, reference materials, and research materials. I do not like using the Internet for that information. Half the stuff on line is incorrect anyway. I have my favorite kitchen gadgets, and do not allow anyone to use my baking pans for the wrong thing, that really, really annoys me. Does that make me a creature of habit? Probably. I know I find it comfortable to use the tools that I have had for a long time. And, I hate new technology. Just as soon as I get used to the way my computer works, something has to be changed, I hate the constant learning curve.

After getting the soup on, and cleaning my knife, I put it back on the wall magnet I hang my knives on. I wondered, as I checked them for sharpness, how I could use them as a weapon in a story I have in mind to write. “Huh.” I thought, “How weird is it that someone would look at their kitchen knives and wonder how to use them in a story, or is it weird?” Apparently, not for me.

Husband at the Nail Salon


Today I made a memory, well actually, we made a memory, my man and I.

The weather has been horrid for the past several days, well below freezing and there is still ice everywhere on the roads. I managed, some how, to break one of my fingernails. I am not a vain woman for the most part, but I do like to have pretty nails. Since the nail salon was still open, but he didn’t want me driving on slippery roads, my husband drove me to the salon, and to keep from freezing to death, went inside with me.

Like most Saturday afternoons, it was pretty busy. But not as packed as usual since the roads were bad. We had to wait for about twenty minutes before they got to me. He came prepared with his Kindle and his tablet to kill time while waiting for me to get finished. It always take about an hour to get my nails back to perfection. He patiently sat and waited, no fidgeting, no complaining, no deep sighs or any of his other signs of dissatisfaction. Meanwhile, the shop slowly filled up.

The woman doing my nails asked if my husband wanted a manicure, I explained he was just waiting for me since he didn’t want me to drive on the bad roads. She, and the two women on either side of me thought he was pretty special to do that. I don’t think he noticed all of us glancing at him as we discussed why he would do such a thing. The lady on my right sighed, “He must really love you. How long have you been together?” I told them I met him when I was 15 and married him when I was sixteen. Neither family thought we would last, but here we are 46 years later. The lady on my left, did the “isn’t that adorable” coo women make when something touches their heart. The woman working on my nails smiled, “You so lucky, Ma’am.”

Apparently, she told her co workers in their language what was going on. All the women looked at me and smiled. Then all looked at my totally oblivious husband who was lost in his book. Then all of us did the woman’s coo thing. A round robin of chatting took place with women commenting on how long they were married, and how they didn’t have a man who would treat them with such sweetness. After a few minutes, everyone went back to their business. But glances were cast at my husband and myself every so often as the news filtered around the room.

When I was nearly done, I asked my husband to come take a look at the color I had chosen. They were the color of a stormy winter sky with sparkles. He loved them. Said they looked like I had stars on my nails. Everyone around me giggled. The lady on my right winked at me, the lady on my left sighed, “He is a keeper, honey.” I agreed.

When he went to pay for my nails, a lady who was waiting looked at me with shock. “That man your husband?” I said he was. “And he payin’ for your nail without getting mad?” I said he was. “Girl, you all gotta be newlyweds.” I laughed, “No, we’ve been married for 46 years, and he is almost house trained.” She laughed out loud.

My husband always helps me on with my coat. Always. Just like he always opens doors for me, and helps me up and down stairs. He is, quite frankly, a real gentleman. I know, quaint. But it is one of the things I love the most about him. When he helped me on with my coat, every single woman in the place was watching. When he hugged me, and then opened the door for me and offered me his arm, like he always does, every woman in that room collectively sighed and did the woman coo thing. I smiled to myself, feeling, a bit smug. But also, grateful for the man I love and the gentleman he is. And he never once noticed he was the center of attention of at least thirty women. It is a good memory. It will still make me smile years from now.

Where Are The Feminists? I’m Waiting.


With all the news of ‘famous’ Hollyweird people and politicians being slammed by “sexual misconduct” claims over the past few weeks, I have to wonder if the leftist chickens have finally come home to roost. For years the women of the left have been screaming about any perceived misconduct from anyone on the right, giving men on the left a pass, no pun intended, on their behavior. Anything from saying someone looks nice to asking then out on a date was seen as a sexual attack of some sort. And boy did they scream and wail about it to the talking heads of the opinion channels. (They used to report the news, now they just rant opinions.) The feminists ranted, railed, pointed fingers, demanded that the men involved be hung in effigy, and ruined more than one career just by uttering innuendos based on rumors. It was ugly, like most of the women.

Now, their secrets of how things are behind the scenes of the leftest bastions of entertainment and half of the politicians are out for everyone to see. At first, everyone rallied to support the men who were accused, then, as woman after woman came forward, it got very, very quiet on the leftest feminist front. Women came forward, some famous, some unknown, and made their claims, one after another. And the power wielders started to fall like dominoes. Still, the feminists stayed quiet. No ranting, no rallies, no hangings, nothing. Why is that? These are men, they are the ENEMY! Why aren’t the “nasty women” who wear nasty hats and dress like female genitalia marching on Hollyweird and Washington D.C.?

I’m waiting.

Personally, I think that it is horrific for a person, man or woman, to use their position of power to sexually harass anyone. Period. And women are just as guilty of doing that as men, don’t pretend it isn’t true. Anyone with power will be tempted to use that power in ways that are inappropriate. The person who doesn’t shows integrity and strength. However, being a person with power over others also leaves them vulnerable to lies being told about them by those who don’t like them having power. The smart person is like Vice President Pence, they avoid being alone with the opposite sex to avoid any hint of scandal or wrong doing. But the leftists feminists had a hissy fit about that, saying he was being all sorts of prudish. Now, that it has been proven being alone with anyone is a reason for sex scandals, not a word is coming from the leftist feminists screamers. Why not? Oh, sorry, that would mean admitting the Vice President was correct in his behavior.

So now, the man hater feminists of the academia are shouting that ALL men are predators and, therefore, evil. We must, as a nation and as a culture, demand that all mothers train their little boys to behave like little girls, or something that will keep them from growing up to be, well, men. We must make them sensitive, emotional, metrosexual males who are unsure of their sexual identity and who are not masculine in any way. In short, they can’t behave like men. They can’t be logical, they can’t shoot guns, they can’t drink beer, and they certainly can’t sit with their legs apart in public, or swear. Women can, but men can’t. What a load of bull. Every woman I know who is a real woman wants a real man, not some girlie/boy wanna be, who can’t decide if they are male or not.

According to the talking heads of the liberal opinion stations, ALL MEN ARE TOXIC. It doesn’t matter if they have never done anything inappropriate in their entire lives, we all know they thought about it. So that makes them evil and a threat to all women. Wait, what? So that makes all women victims of sexual assault because a guy thought they were attractive? Then why do women go around dressed so men notice them? Isn’t that baiting them into a reaction? Doesn’t that make women just as bad? What exactly does Toxic mean in this context? Or does the phrase just sound good to the leftists?

The loud, ugly, obnoxious women who screamed for equality in all things are now presenting themselves and helpless little women who are victims of the big bad men around them. You can’t have it both ways. Either you are a strong, independent, competent woman who can stand her ground and fight her own battles, or you are a whimpering victim who needs to be protected and taken care of by others. If you are going to shout that you are a “nasty woman” who hates all toxic males just because of their genitalia and DNA, then you are not a victim of anything but your own hatred.

Those who are sexually assulted or harassed in any way must stand up and tell their stories, when it happens! Do it immediately to stop the perpetrator from continuing his or her behavior toward others. Don’t be a silent victim, be proactive.

Unless, of course, you are willing to do anything for your career and bow down to sexual predators to climb that ladder of success. If you do that, you have no right to complain and whine now. You are just as guilty as the perpetrators.

Where are you feminists? Where is your outrage about this?

I’m waiting.

Dancing in the Kitchen


We were newlyweds living in a house built in the 1800’s up in the hills above Mill Valley, California. We were deeply in love, but still adjusting to each other. It was a bad day, we had argued off and on all day about silly things. He made me cry, I made him swear. It was a typical lover’s spat made worse because we were so young, both of us were still teenagers.

I went into the kitchen to start cooking dinner. As I usually did, I put on music to help me deal with the stresses of my emotions. The Everly Brothers were, and still are, one of my favorite groups. I always sing along with music I love. The song “Let It Be Me” came on the stereo. I started to sing along, when I felt my husband’s arms come around me. He turned me to face him and we started slow dancing in the kitchen. That was the first time we danced barefoot in the kitchen.

We’ve been married for 46 years, over the years we have danced barefoot in kitchens all over the world. Last week we danced in our kitchen here in Mississippi to the same song. It still makes me teary eyed to feel the deep love we still have for each other. The last dance I ever have, when we are so old a decrepit that we creak, will be dancing barefoot in the kitchen. And we will be just as in love then as we were the first time we danced barefoot in the kitchen back in 1972 in that old house on Rose Avenue in Mill Valley, California.

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=everly+brothers+let+it+be+me

 

 

Soap Box Rant


WARNING: SOAP BOX RANT

I saw a commercial today for Little Cesar’s Pizza Company. I found it absolutely disgusting.

A little prince of a brat was sitting in a chair while his Dad brought him a pizza. He told his dad about a sale at Little Cesar’s Pizza and when his dad shamefully admitted he didn’t get that deal, bratty prince told is father to bend down and the bratty prince removed the #1 logo from the Dad’s hat and threw it over his shoulder in compete contempt for his father.

Was that supposed to be funny? Was it meant to diminish the father in importance? Was it supposed to make parents want to buy pizza for the little brat prince from a store like Little Cesar’s Pizza? Was it supposed to make the bratty prince look smarter than the dad? Was it supposed to make a statement on family dynamics? What the hell was that about?

Why would anyone who is a parent, who acts and behaves like a parent, not a peer of the bratty kid, ever buy anything from a company who has so little respect for fathers? Would they have that same role filled by a woman who was supposed to be a mother? Nope. Would the dad role be filled by a gay guy, black guy, Hispanic guy? Nope. Only a white guy can be such a schmuck. A middle aged, somewhat paunchy, white guy to boot. Why? Because we all know a middle aged white male is nothing more than a schmuck who is worthless, and the only good he does is bring home the bacon, or pizza in this case.

Subliminal messages abound in advertising, movies, television and even in books. We are all rotten parents because we don’t give our little princes and princesses exactly what they want, when they want it, and how they want on a daily basis. We are no longer #1 Dad or #1 Mom or grandparent, we are failures in the eyes of the men and women who run big business. We are failures to be mocked and insulted on a daily basis, yet it is folks like the dad in that advert who actually pay the bills and buy most things for the household and the bratty kids.

Every time I see that ad, I get ticked off. If my child had ever behaved in such a way, they would be doing chores for a month straight, and that is after being told off in no uncertain terms about how much of an ungrateful, wretched little monster they were! Makes me want to reach through the screen and smack that kid right out of the chair he is lounging in along with his hateful attitude.

It isn’t right to portray parents who are trying to feed their kids as inept imbeciles. It creates the idea in kid’s heads that their parents aren’t Number One in any way. Sure teenagers feel that way, but that is part of the whole distancing themselves from their embarrassing parents that happens to every family. By making this kid in the ad ten years old or under, the subliminal message to all kids that age who see the ad, is that Dad is just one stupid mistake from being a total failure who doesn’t deserve the kid’s respect.

Next time a commercial comes on that your child is likely to see, pay attention to the subliminal messages, as well as the context and content of the message. Kids remember what they see and hear, and many copy it as well. And folks, never, ever, buy the products that are using ads that promote division, insults, or politically correct attitudes toward parents who are adults that actually parent, or their children. They don’t deserve your money, time, or loyalty.

I am getting off the soap box now. Going to go educate my cussing corner for a minute. Have a good evening.

They All Served With Honor


Anyone who knows me is aware that genealogy and family history are my passion. I am more familiar with my long deceased relatives than the majority of my living relatives. After researching and studying their lives, they become very real to me, and it makes me aware of the way I was raised and how I think originated.

With all of the drama going on over Civil War monuments lately, I thought I would take a look back at the men who served in the Civil War, and the women who kept the family alive while they were gone. There are dozens of men in my various family lines that served, on both sides.

One family, on my father side of the family, had twelve children when the war broke out. Four of their sons were grown men, three with wives and young children, the other one was still single. In-between the boys, they had four daughters who were at, or reaching, marrying age.

I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for the mother of those boys to watch them march off to war. Grown men or not, they were her boys. I can only imagine how painful it was for those four girls to watch their brothers and, probably sweethearts, march away. Without technology like we have today, without the ability to send letters, as many folks back then were uneducated and could barely write their names, the inability to know how their sons were doing must have been maddening.

Of those four boys, none returned home. One died at Gettysburg, two died at Shiloh, and one died in a prison camp from dysentery and starvation. They left three widows and six children between them. The sisters? Each of them died of old age, single and without children.

After the Civil War, so many men of marriageable age were dead or dying, that there simply were not enough men to marry. Not unless they married someone who was a widower with a bunch of children already, or someone younger than they were. With all the single women and widows after the war, men could be rather picky. A few came home to their sweethearts, married, had families, and life went on as they planned. But not for these four sisters. They spend their lives being the spinster aunts in the family, taking care of their parents and their nieces and nephews.

By today’s standards, it isn’t a problem for a woman to be single all her life. But, back then, when there were no jobs or careers for women outside of teaching and nursing, most women were a burden on their families, and became the built in nanny and cook for more than one family member.

The brothers were all Union soldiers. They didn’t die majestic, heroic deaths. They were simple foot soldiers who were doing their duty for their country. They didn’t have opinions on slavery one way or the other, their grandfather was a slave owner who emancipated his slaves, all three of them, when he died. They were just men, farmers, no better, no worse than any other soldier.

In Shiloh National Park, there is a statue to the men who died in that horrific battle. It recognizes the men who died there. It is a beautiful piece of art. Right near it is one for the men who died in the same battle, only they died for their country, the Southern Confederate Army is recognized with another beautiful piece of art, a statue of brothers in arms. Should one be torn down, should both?

By deleting the statues that recognize the men who served and died for the Confederate Army, we are negating the men who fought and died for the Union. It takes two sides to have a battle, without one side, it makes no sense to honor the other side. Those statues represent the men in my family who died there. One, the two Union brothers, the other, their cousins.

The Uncle of the boys who marched off to war was a Southern sympathizer. He had no slaves, but he, like his sister, had a large family. Off to war his sons went, one after the other. Of the three sons he sent to war, they left behind three widows and seven children. One of them born shortly after his father was killed at Shiloh. The eldest son died at Bull Run, the third, when Sherman marched through Georgia. He was on his way home, wounded and unable to fight with one arm. The Union Army took him prisoner, he died of blood poisoning.

Within that same family, were five daughters. Two of the five girls never married, and died of old age as spinsters, according to census records. The three women who married lived long lives too. One, however, with a permanently “crippled” husband, according to census records, and the two other women married much older men with children whose wives had died during or shortly after the Civil War.

Two families, out of a dozen or more, in my family lines whose sons fought and died, leaving an entire generation bereft and mourning for their lost dreams, lives, and loves. This is what the Civil War did to regular families who were called to do their duty. Farmers, merchants, millers, builders, just people.

Unlike the romantic version of the Civil War in movies like Gone With The Wind and such, it was a messy, horrific, loud, frightening, bloody, uncivil nightmare. Most of the men who died were not much beyond boyhood. But they stood, fought, and died. They deserve to be honored, no matter which side they fought on, because this was the American Civil War. And the true enemy was the politicians and the very few slave owners who were too greedy to see a better way.

As much as you may not like it, the Civil War was not fought just to free the slaves, it was fought over money, power, and unending politics that tore the nation apart. The issue of slavery was just the cheery on top of the mess.

I know many black people who have ancestors who were slaves. None of them feel angry or slighted with me that several of my many times great grandfathers owned slaves. I had nothing to do with that. Most of them are more interested in learning where their people came from in Africa, than who owned them as slaves. It is time to learn to deal with the past as the past instead of using it as an excuse to throw tantrums and act out like toddlers who are told they can’t have what they want.

My family lost men in every war, conflict, or action since they first set foot on the shores of America. More of my relatives fought tribal wars and took slaves from the losers of the conflicts between tribes. Today, I have two nephews in the military. My father, son, brother, brother in law, and many uncles, cousins, grandfathers, and even a few wives have fought for this country. It is an honor to come from a family of patriots. I want all of them honored, recognized, and accepted for the sacrifices they made for their side of the conflict – sacrifices made based on their knowledge and conscience, and patriotism.

God Bless them all.

The Meaning of Words


A great man once said, “Abuse of words has been the great instrument of sophistry and chicanery, of party, faction, and division of society.” John Adam

Millions of words pour across our various screens on a daily basis. Those spouting those words want to use them to make a point, twist a narrative, further an agenda, plan a plot, confuse, obfuscate, and force their ideas on the gullible, bored, uneducated, fearful, and unsuspecting people who are easily led, fed, and incapable of forming an opinion with out the say so of the media and/or organizations they depend on to do their thinking for them. After all, they are a product of their sum schooling for the past thirty years, and unless they had parents and leaders who taught them to think and make decisions for themselves, they are indoctrinated in group think.

The only meaning words have for them are what their cadre of group think controllers tell them, regardless of the traditional and long accepted definition stated in hundreds of dictionaries and documents world wide. And, because they have never been allowed to, in anyway, to take a different stand and learn to think outside group think, they simply don’t bother to learn the real meaning of the words that flood their screens.

Within my generation, many words have been forced into a new meaning, sometimes representing exactly the opposite of the original root definition. Most are found in the youthful desperation to use slang that only represents their generation. However, the word “bad” no matter how much they might have wanted it, does not mean ‘good.’ Likewise, the word ‘sick’ does not denote in any historical or linguistic manner, something that is outstanding or amazing. But beyond the childish inversion of words to create new slang, group think is demanding we all change the meaning of words and thoughts to only meet the group think criteria. It is demanded that we all fall in lock step with their agenda, and spout their linguistic liturgy propaganda. Then we are to go out and force it on the rest of the world.

In the Declaration of Independence, one of the most highly canonized ideals of the development of a free state, Thomas Jefferson wrote, “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Let us deconstruct the original meaning behind that statement and compare it to the group think of today’s propagandists.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident…” “We hold”, meaning the people of the young country that wants to be independent of the tyrants of the British Empire. We, Us, The People. However, group think propagandists would have you believe the word, “we” means only the rich white men who were representing their particular group of planters and industrialists. The pronoun “we,” used plurally, refers to multiple people in the traditional meaning. Today, it is used to delineate between groups, turning the use of the word “we” into a them and us definition. The group think agenda has tried to twist the definition into a negative connotation. “Hold” is the verb that tells what ‘we’ is doing. We hold, meaning in this instance, we believe. “We,” know, that the following statement is correct. We, the people, believe this to be true. That was the original meaning, today, the entire verb phrase is dismissed as unimportant. Because one is not allowed to believe on their own, they must obfuscate every meaning in the name of group think.

“…truths to be self-evident,:… Truth, a simple, straightforward word that historically means being honest, saying what is verifiable, without exception, in accordance with fact and reality. A simple concept, that is now, completely without meaning. Truth is what each group think agenda wants it to be. It is no longer based of verifiable facts and reality, it is, instead based on an emotional behavior that is acceptable within the propaganda of the group think manifesto. It is one of the first dynamic words to actually become meaningless within my generation. No longer is stating something as truthful based on facts and realism something people can depend on to remain static. It is fluid to the point of meaningless evaporation. There is no truth, according to most group think propaganda, accept what we tell you is truth. Anything other than what we tell you is a lie, a misspoken, or a misunderstood definition of our version of the truth. Truth is now fluid, ever changing, non static words based on emotion and utterly controlled by the agenda masters.

“…to be self-evident:…” Self-evident. Meaning, in the time honored definition of the word, it is an adverb that means evidence without exterior proof because it is something that is traditionally known, or the facts presented before one is clear in its meaning. It is evident to one and all, the adverb that answers to the noun “truth,” the plural pronoun, “we,” and the verb, “hold.” We, each of us, believe, understand, accept, promote, the truth of this statement, to be obvious in its meaning. It is clearly stated and the definition as transparent as window glass. However, today’s opaque use of words muddies the meaning as much as possible. Because, after all, no one should ever use the word “self” to describe understanding. There is no “self” when it comes to propagandizing language. There is no clarity of definition because if there were, people would begin to question the status quo and standards of the group. That would be a disaster for those who employ the machine to mold minds into fearful followers of the ending of independent thought. There is no self in modern thinking patterns.

“…that all men are created equal…” Now there is a conundrum. “All Men…” How dare they not mention women as equals to men. According to the propagandists, this statement proves that the authors, of the Declaration of Independence, were obvious misogynists who dismissed women as unimportant and useless. Of course, the traditional use of the phrase refers to mankind. Men, women, children, all mankind. That is not good enough for the groups who want to be offended and angry that women are not given a particular specialness within the confines of the statement. Now the use of the word, “men,” a common plural noun for the singular noun, “man,” is an insult to womankind. Because, according to the modern group mind, all men, every last one of them, must be a groveling apologist for their sex – at fault every thing that has gone wrong in the development of mankind, and are required to scramble away with heads bowed in submission when any female is present. If they don’t they are criminal or evil. Unless, of course, they are fulfilling part of the group think violent agenda. There is no longer “all men” because the divisiveness of group think and mind control propaganda machine whole heartedly believes in divide and conquer methods to maintain power over those under their hidden agenda.

“…that they are endowed by their Creator…” Another slippery slope of word use. The use of this phrase, in its original format, infers that mankind is a creation of not only biological means, but is also a creation of a higher being, a Christian based religious belief in an almighty God. Conventional beliefs of many who founded the country of America were based in Christianity. Unlike now, it was an intrinsic part of their lifestyle and belief system. So, regardless of how one is biologically created, we were all spiritually created by God. It was, literally, the reason many of the earliest Europeans came to the Americas. Here they could worship as they desire, without interference from governmental powers.

Today, however, anyone who still believes in customary Christian traditions, is ridiculed and demeaned by the rudderless, angry people who feel judged by those with a deeply held belief system outside of group think. While they will deny it, they are as deeply entrenched in a belief system as any religious group, only their belief is based on unending perceived persecution by those who hold different things sacred. Group think is designed to promote discontent and inequality. By promoting inequality as a sinful, predetermined behavior by religious people, the group think propaganda continually maintains a fearful under current of misunderstanding and hatred. Since, at one point in time, some people did not undertake their mind control agenda, then all who believe in God are naturally trying to enslave or deny equality to everyone else. An absolute misdirection of epic proportions is achieved by reversing the meaning of the phrase, “created equal,” and labels all who understand and believe in the originators meaning of the phrase as racist, homophobic, anti everything the group think propaganda promotes. One again, filtering truth through emotionally charged propaganda creates a false narrative of rage, fear, and destruction of the original meaning of the phrase.

“…with certain unalienable rights…” Unalienable rights, what an interesting choice of words. These rights are nontransferable from one person to another. It is a right each individual has, something that is certainly incompatible with group think. Individualism is discouraged in mind controlled group think. The authors of the Declaration of Independence, however, saw the rights of the individual over the rights of the government as the very cornerstone of freedom of thought and action. Certain rights belong to everyone. Rights that are part of thinking for one’s self, for making decisions for one’s self,

and for believing for one’s self. No one can take that right from anyone else, but in today’s society one freely gives up that independence to slavishly follow group think so they might be part of a whole, instead of wholly their own person. Many modern arm chair judges of history point to slavery as the denial of those rights. Perhaps, however, the traditional use of slavery was ended by the American people over a hundred years ago, and it was limited to begin with in America. Today, however, people are enslaved by a systematic denial of individualism through social, governmental, and propaganda of the group think status quo. We must do as we are told or face rejection by peers, incarceration by the government control and programs, or bombardment from the fearful group think organizations for being independent thinkers. Our rights are in more danger today than they ever were under original slavers. After generations fighting for freedom for all people in our country, those radicals who have nothing better to do than spew hatred would bring back segregation and racial divisiveness to our country. Once again, the meaning of words, originally written to decry oppression, are being defined as oppressive in modern propaganda.

“…among these are life…” We have a right to life. Once, it meant everyone had a right to life. We had a right to grow, learn, work, become strong, and live a long life. Everyone, man, woman, and child, had a right to live. It is a phrase that could not be more transparent in meaning. Yes, lives were taken that should not have been taken though violence, through anger. But those lives were still allowed until they lost that right by committing horrors against other human beings. Today, however, this phrase is denied by group think. If a child is created, and one of the creators of that life doesn’t want it, it is allowed to be thrown away, destroyed, torn asunder for the pure selfish desire of the creators of that life. We no longer have a right to live if we do not bow to the group think of what is acceptable thought and behavior according to their purpose. There is no rights except their rights. We are not allowed to be different, and if we are, we are automatically the enemy. There is no right to life. Not now.

.”..liberty…” Liberty, a noun that means, according to Dictionary.com, “freedom from control, interference, obligation, restriction, hampering conditions, etc.; power or right of doing, thinking, speaking, etc., according to choice. It is manifest in the Declaration of Independence that the authors were indeed and in spirit writing to these meanings of the word liberty. It was a fine, strong stance that the independent minded young American nation took against tyranny. It is something that the United States has fought for since the Revolutionary War. It is something that made this country a beacon of hope for those downtrodden and defenseless peoples of other countries. It was something that made them leave all behind and make the often perilous journey from their traditional homeland to America. Liberty, freedom from control, independence from tyranny were the burning desires of thousands who came to America. They wanted this freedom for their posterity, they wanted to become Americans in every sense of the word. It was with pride that they presented their children with the hope of liberty. Today, however, the meaning of liberty has become as undermined as the meaning of truth. While liberty means freedom, it also means responsibility within the laws of the land. We are free to bear arms, but we are not free to arbitrarily murder people. We are free to say what we think, but we are not free to slander with lies or misinformation. We are free to live as we want, but we are not free to force others to do so as slaves, cults, or through intimidation. We have freedom to move where we might, but we do not have freedom to take over a property that does not belong to us. We are free to drive, but we are not free to steal a car. With liberty, comes great responsibility. Responsibility that many fear because that means they will have to make decisions for themselves. It is much easier to simply let others think for them and tell them how to live, and exactly what freedoms they can indulge in without consequences. As a group think organization, they can go en-mass and destroy property, hurt others, deny freedom to those who believe differently without consequence. Freedom means destroying anything and anyone one disagrees with, at any time, with what the group think organization says they can. Liberty has become the inverse of what the originators of the Declaration of Independence meant when they wrote it. Yet, every last group think perpetrator of violence screams that it is his or her right to do so because they pursue liberty for pseudo tyranny.

“…pursuit of happiness,,,,” Pursuit, a noun, meaning to quest for something in an effort to attain a particular thing. It isn’t a guarantee of happiness, it is the opportunity to search for happiness. And happiness is a state of contentment, joy, pleasure, or satisfaction in life. Again, the authors of the document in question used clear language to describe the end results of a quest for life and liberty. Happiness. There is no guarantee that everyone will find what ever means happiness to them. But, they are free to search for it, free to find it, and free to enjoy it, as long as it doesn’t preempt another from happiness in their lives. It seems very clear to most people. But, in modern group think, one does not pursue happiness, they believe they should be guaranteed it without the cost and effort of pursuing their version of happiness. It must be delivered to them, free of charge, without end, upon demand. If they are not happy, then it is up to everyone else to see that they are. Like a petulant child with a new toy, if it isn’t exactly what he or she wants, it is tossed away with disdain and the unending caterwauling for happiness continues until they obtain the next toy. The word pursuit in the phrase is thrown to the wayside with impunity. Happiness is a right, not the pursuit of said happiness, according to the modern interpretation of this phrase in the Declaration of Independence.

Denis Waitley once stated, “It is not in the pursuit of happiness that we find fulfillment, it is in the happiness of pursuit.” If we gain something without earning it, it is meaningless. Something that we strive for, something we sacrifice for, something we gain by perseverance means more than anything simply handed to us by the powers that be. Pursuing that which we most desire, be it education, knowledge, freedom, independence, and yes, happiness can only be done if we are free from control by those who would own our thoughts, actions, and ability. Either we learn to use words clearly and with courage, meaning exactly what we say, or we become no more than a pawn in the act, as John Adams said, “of sophistry and chicanery, of party, faction, and division of society.”