Dave's Daily Day Dream

Dancin' Soldiers!

2011-09-02T12:31:00.000-07:00

The dancing isn't so hot, but it is interesting to look at the scenery around these heroes. Lots of little kids, all boys. How different is that society from ours in the way we raise our children.

Palestinians Want This Video Removed…

2011-08-24T15:37:00.000-07:00

Sums things up nicely, don't you think? The audio begins at about 1:30. Be patient - ;-)

…and I don't even watch the "Daily Show"!

2011-08-16T15:09:00.000-07:00

Maybe I should start.

The Daily Show - Indecision 2012 - Corn Polled Edition - Ron Paul & the Top Tier
Get More: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

How To Talk To The President

2011-05-20T16:41:00.000-07:00

Prime Minister Netanyahu knows how.

Look at President Obama's body language - is he pissed, or what?

The Junior Senator From Kentucky

2011-05-11T14:50:00.000-07:00

How can anyone disagree? Mental illness?

In Honor of Earth Day

2011-04-22T16:04:00.000-07:00

Something from Neptunus Lex…

2011-04-16T11:01:00.000-07:00

The Collings Foundation's F-100F Super Sabre from INVERSION on Vimeo.

The Collings Foundation’s F-100F Super Sabre from INVERSION on Vimeo.

Col. Day had 5000 hours in his log book, and 4500 of them in fighters before he volunteered for combt duty in Vietnam. He stood up the first “Fast FAC” squadron to fly high risk forward air control missions, and was shot down on his 65th sortie up north. Badly injured in the ejection, he nevertheless managed to evade his captors and cross the DMZ back in to South Vietnam, becoming the only American POW to escape from North Vietnam. Recaptured by Viet Kong just miles from a US base, Col. Day spent five years and seven months as a guest of the Hanoi regime, who broke his body but not his spirit.

He is the only person ever to have been awarded both the Medal of Honor and the Air Force Cross.

I hope you enjoyed the flight, colonel. And a tip o’ the tam to the Collings Foundation for setting it up.

The Bible States It Clearly - There Will Never Be Peace

2011-04-06T19:12:00.000-07:00

Here's another video (2 in a day!) that depicts the insightful world view of some of those of those who follow allah, the moon god.

Christians Don't Believe That The Bible is God's Word?

2011-04-06T14:31:00.000-07:00

Here's another looney look at someone who passes for an expert talking about what Christian people believe. Then the American Family Association spokesman clears it all up. A good use of your time, IMHO.

Happy Dead Irish Saint's Day

2011-03-17T10:34:00.000-07:00

Some more numbers…

2011-03-07T15:40:00.000-08:00

Here are some facts as to what sex without consequence is costing the United States. These figures should be overwhelming to us. They are an affront to God. Killing some of our most innocent citizens in this fashion is beyond what a civilized nation should be about. God's Word tells us,

"And it happened, when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, that the babe leaped in her womb;…" (Luke 1:41)

So much for the definition of a unborn child as being a mere blob of tissue, without feeling.

Paul's letter to the Galatians says, "Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap." (6:7)

Stirring the Middle Eastern Pot

2011-03-01T12:20:00.000-08:00

Some Interesting Figures to Ponder

2011-02-28T12:57:00.000-08:00

Click on the Header to see the article.

And here is a link to follow a thread of considered opinion… (copy and paste)

http://www.neptunuslex.com/2011/02/28/one-chart/comment-page-1/#comment-693406

Response to Wisconsin Teachers' Union

2011-02-26T13:04:00.000-08:00

Mystery solved…

2010-10-11T08:40:00.000-07:00

It should have been easy to understand what happened at last Saturday's Gators game with the LSU people. It wasn't, until I researched further. Being an expert, like those seated around me during the game, I am constantly looking for a rationale which explains the performance on the field. I have come up with two reasonable ideas which take away the lingering pain of a 33-29 final score.
First. I had been transported to an alternate version of my former universe (see "Fringe", Fox Network). This seems to fit because I did mention in the previous column my eerie bodily sensations as I walked through the darkened section six tunnel entrance and into the almost other worldly, brilliantly lit stadium interior. The players down on the field at that very time were revealed to me to be different somehow. Executing, as they warmed up, some of our regular plays and looking every bit like those they represented in my former macrocosm, there was something which wasn't quite right. The thing that unveiled the otherworldly place I found myself in was the uniforms the players were wearing. During the instantaneous transworldifying experience in the tunnel, my old world became new. Identical except for one thing, the spectrum of light. The laws of physics had not been identically duplicated. The orange had gone and in its place was something of a yellow ochre, maybe with a little cadmium red. The simple orange of orange and blue fame had vanished. That's how I know the men on the field were not those upon whom we rested our hope for SEC glory. That's how I know it wasn't really the Gators I watched that night.
OK, second.
The horrid hue of orange used for the uniforms that night was accursed. The odious choice brought doom upon the beloved Gator Nation for that night's competition. It was Emmitt Orange night. They had reverted back to a color worn by beloved Emmitt Smith. They had chosen the color of failure and defeat and it worked. The team failed. The coaching failed. The game was irretrievably gone. Take your pick. These two scenarios fit correctly with everybody else's depiction of an evening gone bad.
The one and only good thing I heard after the game came from Tre Burton. He was asked by a radio commentator on one of those talk show format, game recap programs about his touchdown. He said, "It doesn't matter, we lost!" Priceless.

The Next to Last Sports Column…

2010-10-10T15:21:00.000-07:00

I really shouldn't deign to write a column in this blog that has mainly to do with sports. But I will. It could be fun to write, 'cuz it will help me get a few left over bits of angst out in the open, and it could be amusing (for me, maybe you). There will be two blog entries.

I led a secluded, introverted youth. I know I developed into someone who was, is, a loner of sorts - in a good way, I hope. Loners work well in fighters and sometimes they even have the lucky circumstance to marry someone who loves 'em. That being said, I married a girl who was born into a group of people who live in a region who for the period from the autumnal equinox to the winter solstice bleed blue and orange. After forty-five years, Jeanie and I are beginning to look alike and I bleed blue and orange.

What is it about a seventy-two year old man who gets chills down his spine and goosebumps in all the other places as he walks through a darkened tunnel and into a brilliantly lit stadium? Proceeding through gate six and down to row sixteen, I sit down with ninety thousand others who bleed blue and orange, we await the start of the contest.

When I went to Washington University in Saint Louis, I majored mostly in AFROTC and Budweiser. Strangely, I can't remember ever going to a football game on a Saturday afternoon. I liked football in high school and attended most every game. Something happened I guess when we moved east in 1956. I'm making up for lost time and making memories now. It's never too late. There's never been a better time or place to get interested in college football.

Last night Jeanie and I were privileged to attend the University of Florida Gators football contest with those horrid folks from the Louisiana Purchased lands. LSU. My gosh, they bleed purple, how sick is that? The game was probably one of the more exciting I have watched (my second in person). We lost. I've discovered that if you are to be a Florida Gators football fan you need to be pretty expert in the game. I know those who were sitting around Jeanie, Becky, Larry and me, were. You can tell that the entire swamp is filled with experts. That's really good, because if one of those millionaire coaches down on the field were to croak, there'd be plenty of folks who could take over - instantly. (BTW, Becky and Larry are the folks who live near us in the condo. They are UF grads and they know where to park at the games. They bleed blue and orange.)

Here's what happened. I know, I'm an expert.

First of all, what the heck is a "no look, pitch over"? Whatever it is, they should use it a lot because it got the purple people into position to win the game. Shouldn't a coaching staff think that there might be a tricky play in the works when a team lines up to kick a point or three from a spot way beyond the kicker's ability? It would tie the game. Don't you think an attempt at a win might be in an offensive coach's first priority? Well, I can't speak to what the purple coach was thinking, but the defensive coach on the good team didn't pick up on the potential for damage. They got a first down and then scored with only a few seconds left to play. At least the officials took a VERY LONG time to review the play, trying to decide whether it was a lateral, a pass or one of those no look pitch overs. The results of their inquiries were disheartening. There's another day (as the Lord tarries).

Another thing struck me as we sat in such great seats behind the good team's bench. As play progressed through the evening, there was a lot of confusion going on down on the field. It seemed to me that the nicely dressed coaching staff was having a tough time deciding what to do. I'm pretty sure their indecision was about the game and not Obama's HealthCare Initiatives or the market. They were all kind of running around in ever-increasing circles and they all constantly waved their hands in what could be mistaken for gang signals (I am from Central California, near Salinas). They were all waving their hands and signaling at the same time. As soon as they did, the quarterback, John Brantley, would look over, and then scurry around to his line to reveal to them what the new play might be. They did that too much. They needed to trust Brantley or give him a consistent game plan from the beginning. Maybe they could even just have one coach do the gang thing. Whatever it was, it could be called confusion.

Even I picked up on it. Me, the guy who majored in AFROTC and Budweiser.

Andrew Breitbart Confronts Protesters

2010-09-21T13:09:00.000-07:00

Now here's something that every thinking person should see. Oh, and be sure that you are not one of those folks who is given the sign without the explanation! Enjoy. Please.

Why Don't We All Just Relax, and Trust Them.

2010-08-02T16:43:00.000-07:00

The Ship of State is foundering on it's Summertime Cruise. I fear that once again we'll be the ones to have to walk the gangplank to lighten the craft. Lots of privileged folks are on board, of course, but they'll be busy with their tales of aggrandizement and power sharing, scratching backs and kneeling to get a better angle on it.

It's time for us to deal with the slimy mess which has prevailed in D.C. since the liberal orgasm of a year ago or so. Do we just paddle harder and hope and pray for "change"? I'd like to see some authentic patriots do something real for a change.

Angelo M. Codevilla gets its correct when he writes,

"Our ruling class's agenda is power for itself. While it stakes its claim through intellectual-moral pretense, it holds power by one of the oldest and most prosaic of means: patronage and promises thereof. Like left-wing parties always and everywhere, it is a "machine," that is, based on providing tangible rewards to its members. Such parties often provide rank-and-file activists with modest livelihoods and enhance mightily the upper levels' wealth. Because this is so, whatever else such parties might accomplish, they must feed the machine by transferring money or jobs or privileges -- civic as well as economic -- to the party's clients, directly or indirectly. This, incidentally, is close to Aristotle's view of democracy. Hence our ruling class's standard approach to any and all matters, its solution to any and all problems, is to increase the power of the government -- meaning of those who run it, meaning themselves, to profit those who pay with political support for privileged jobs, contracts, etc. Hence more power for the ruling class has been our ruling class's solution not just for economic downturns and social ills but also for hurricanes and tornadoes, global cooling and global warming. A priori, one might wonder whether enriching and empowering individuals of a certain kind can make Americans kinder and gentler, much less control the weather. But there can be no doubt that such power and money makes Americans ever more dependent on those who wield it."
http://spectator.org/archives/2010/07/16/americas-ruling-class-and-the/print

Someone Has Finally Let It Out!

2010-07-30T14:58:00.000-07:00

It couldn't be clearer nor more understandable.

Sad Days Ahead…

2010-07-25T13:07:00.000-07:00

There could be some sad days ahead in the blogosphere. Lex, the proprietor of "NeptunusLex.com" has decided to pull back a bit and re-prioritize some of what he does. He does it well and I hope that he'll continue. If not, there will be a void somehow that will affect the many, both male and female, military and not, right and left and all the others doing the invisible lurk.

Best of luck and Godspeed to him and his. If he leaves, I hope that he returns. If he pulls back, I hope that he can heal.

We all will be the worse off for his absence.

Afghanistan and Kissinger. Kissinger?!!!

2010-07-08T13:10:00.000-07:00

Patrick Wood of the "August Review" unravels more of the web of intrigue we find ourselves caught up in here in these United States.

Is it possible to be astonished, but not surprised?

2010-07-07T15:53:00.000-07:00

Whining Liberals who are more sensitive to others needs than I am, probably won't like this…

Absolutely unbelievable, except of course to those who think our enemies and traitorous citizenry should get a fair shake.

Speaking Out On Israel

2010-07-03T10:33:00.000-07:00

This is a must see video for anyone who doubts that President Obama has strong radical views regarding our only true ally in the Middle East.

Some Ideas From Radioland (KSCO-AM - 1080)

2010-06-23T13:07:00.000-07:00

The following is a KSCO commentary. Here is Kay Zwerling:
Only an entrenched irresponsible Congress urged by an irresponsible President would vote into law an irresponsible healthcare reform Bill of over 2000 pages, which nobody in Congress read before voting for it, and which will bankrupt and destroy our Country.
We the People must finally demand term limits.
Last week, local resident Bob Lessley, offered creative sensible ideas about changes in our government focusing on term limits and States’ rights.
Now, another concerned citizen who believes States’ rights and term limits are a must, came up with other creative ideas, calling it “The Congressional Reform Act of 2009”.
So, let’s examine the ideas in this Reform Act, and maybe a groundswell of citizens will get started on Congressional changes from both of these Americans’ ideas.
Senators could introduce the Bill in the U.S. Senate, and Representatives could introduce a similar Bill in the U.S. House. These people could become American heroes.
These ideas are from a modest fellow who calls himself merely “A fellow American”.
And, here are his eight concise reforms:
#1. Term limits: 12 years only for each person in office. I would limit it to six years per person for the Senate, and six years per person for the House, because serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, serve your term, then go home and back to work.
#2. No tenure – no pension.
Congress will collect a salary while in office, and none when out of office.
#3. Congress past, present, and future participate in Social Security.
All funds in the Congressional retirement fund moves to the Social Security system where Congress participates equally with the American people.
#4. Congress can purchase their own retirement plan, just as we all do.
#5. Congress will no longer vote themselves a pay raise. Congressional pay will rise by the lower of CPI or 3%.
#6. Congress loses their current healthcare system (poor babies), and participates in the same healthcare system as they created for We the People.
#7. Congress must equally abide in and by all laws they impose on the on the rest of us.
Remember: Serving in Congress is an honor, not a career. The Founding Fathers envisioned citizen legislators, serve your term, then go home and back to work.
And, finally –
#8. All contracts with past and present Congresspersons are void effective 1-01-2010 because the American people did not make contracts with Congressmen. Congressmen made all these contracts and deals among themselves.
P.S. – Let’s limit lawyers to no more than 15-20% of the Congressional membership.
To conclude, I say – kudos to this modest American who proclaims “It is my sole intent not to make anyone mad with this email, but instead to make people THINK! We need to get our freedoms back before it is too late.”
And, I say, “Let’s go for it. Let’s take portions of Bob Lessley’s proposals and combine them with this one, and together we can take back our Country. It can be done.
For KSCO, this is Kay Zwerling.
© copyright 2010

What's in the video below…

2010-06-18T16:39:00.000-07:00

If you decide to look at the video of Steve Wynn (Las Vegas guy), you may have to watch a brief commercial from CNBC. The wait is worth it because this man and his money are speaking loudly to anyone who is smart enough to listen.
I personally believe that he is somewhat naive to think that moving some of his business to Macao will keep his money safe in the long run. I think that country will eventually simply just take it away from him. That being said, he's hit the nail on the head regarding what's going on in D.C. Give him a chance to talk to you. Let me know what you think.

Steve Wynn takes on Washington D.C.

2010-06-18T16:33:00.000-07:00

You will be interested in this video. Trust me.

Nothing too serious here, really!

2010-06-15T17:15:00.000-07:00

Someone sent this along and I think that it is fun. Fun? On a conservative's blogpage? "You jest!", sez you, the uninitiated.

See for yourself.

Another sign of the times.

2010-06-14T16:49:00.000-07:00

But I think that there is a lot more to it,
Where the bad guy comes out a hero. Funny world, isn't it?

One a day, I guess…

2010-06-06T18:34:00.000-07:00

Must Watch

2010-06-05T11:51:00.001-07:00

History Repeats Itself (I hope not!)

2009-11-30T17:45:00.000-08:00

A year ago or so, I posted the picture you see at the right of this comment. It illustrates arrogance and demonstrated to the world that appeasement is delectable. The cheers were short lived as the we descended into a global conflict. We are headed in the same direction on a similar highway. Our president is an appeaser and his cronies are afraid to call him on his dangerous ineptitude. I fear that many will die for a global cause which has nothing to do with our security. Click the title to see the original post.

Milk Run - Epilog

2009-11-21T15:56:00.000-08:00

Like I said, the plane never flew again. The next day, my crew chief came around and told me about what they'd found.

The four embedded sparrow air to air missiles had more than one hundred pieces of shrapnel in them, but none had caused them to explode. For the most part, the 37mm shell had exploded downward, or early, if it was a proximity (but I don't think they had those). It came within a foot of blowing the left main gear off. It took out most of the hydraulics on the left side (good concept - redundancy), somehow the left main had worked in the gravity/pneumatic mode. The leading edge flap was severed and the aileron and spoilers were inop.

He also handed me a pound of lead which was the top of a 37mm shell, which he had found somewhere in the leading edge of the wing. I use it to this day for a paperweight on my desk. You can see how the detonating mechanism is mis-aligned. This has been a constant reminder of that day and how the good Lord had His hand upon me, even though I didn't have a clue.

101

2009-11-20T14:59:00.000-08:00

How much fun is it to think about my dad and what he'd think of this world and the mess we're in? I get in these moods (and especially on his birthday) when I get a sniff of Canadian Club. Bizarre, I know. That smell and that of a freshly dry-cleaned suit, bring back memories of my youth, my family and the security I felt as I grew up.

Now dad was not a boozer. Don't think for a minute that I smelled the CC on him whenever I saw him. But there is something about the odor that takes me back to Seattle in the late forties and the pleasant routine of life for the Wilsons. Going for an apple pie on a Sunday evening. Listening to "Lum and Abner" "The Shadow" and "Amos and Andy" (http://www.oldradioworld.com/shows/Amos_n_Andy.php), innocent things that are missing in today's frenetic lifestyle in the glow of the TV.

Pop, I wish I could talk to you and say how much I love you. We'll meet in heaven - we'll talk.

Milk Run - Ride ‘em Fuzz

2009-11-14T12:15:00.000-08:00

When I began this entry on the blog, I really didn’t think that it would take so long for me to get my act together, work through “writer’s block” and find the right words to express my delight that some even cared whether I wrote it down or not. It is almost forty-four years since that afternoon in 1965 (16 November). In some ways it seems like yesterday. It was a lifetime ago.

Final approach didn’t take as long to fly as it takes to write about it. At higher final airspeeds, you have to descend at a higher rate to get to the same point at the end of the runway (DUH!). Anyway, Bill and I set the bird up and rode it down without really sensing any danger. It never occurred to me that we wouldn’t walk away from this thing.

Geez, looking back and trying to relate what I felt, it was exciting and almost fun! What a dummy.

My wingman checked us over for one last time and broke off at about 500 feet. The next several seconds went by and I simply put that sucker on the ground. I spiked it as hard as I could, pretty much where I thought we’d passed the first barrier and before we whizzed by the second one - the only one that would work for us.

Now the micro second that nothing happened during roll out seemed to last forever! Then all that planning paid off with a deceleration that made me glad I’d locked my shoulder harness. The hook worked as advertised and we came to a dead stop in about a second or so.

Right in the middle of a sigh of relief, I was completely startled when the airplane began to roll backwards and sort of “ground looped” as the nose wheel turned during the barrier cable retraction. This was probably the most unsettling part of the whole day. Some say I have control issues. It really took us by surprise.

We sat there for a couple of minutes, opened the canopies and took off our masks. No matter what the mission or its results, taking off that mask always felt good. I can’t remember whether I lit up a Marlborough in the cockpit, or whether I waited until my foot hit the ground. My crew chief was the first to get to us and he had two bottles of Heineken. Best ones we’d ever have, I suspect. I think I actually remembered to sign the plane’s log (781?). I wish I could remember what I might have written in it. We walked around the airplane a bit, got into a crew van and went to debrief. I never thought to take a picture and I have regretted that for a long time. The airplane never flew again, I believe. I heard that they had put it on a barge after cannibalizing it and took it to the Philippines. That was that.

In the debrief, many shook our hands (the Wing D.O. included), and then my flight commander, Jesse, chewed my ass for five minutes for getting low on a bombing run.

That’s about it. The next night it was back to north of Hanoi, in the dark, under the flares. Maybe daylight flying shouldn’t have held the allure it did.

Milk Run - My First Trap

2009-11-10T14:11:00.000-08:00

Since 350 knots seemed to work OK going up and jinking, I saw no real reason to worry about slowing way down for the trip to Ubon. Willy had proceeded on ahead with his low oil pressure light, and one of the guys had gone home with him and the last guy in our foursome stayed with Bill and me.

The base had been alerted and was getting ready for our arrival and landing. It seemed like only a few minutes before we started descending and setting ourselves up for some sort of long straight in approach (something else we didn’t really practice under VFR). I could use the ILS for a back up reference, but it didn’t really work very well with a 200K final, or at least it seemed weird. It was obvious that I wasn’t going to approach initial and break. The airplane wouldn’t like that at all. Control was OK, but I had to lead roll in, roll out, etc. by a huge margin. The rudders helped a lot, Lord, it was sloppy!

As we came down into the local area, I decided to wait for three or flights of four to recover from up North, so I sort of “held” over a point (more or less) north and east of the strip. It was during one of those 360’s that some O-6 in the tower told me to set up for a low pass before I tried the approach. I guess he wanted to see how extensive the damage was or something. I encouraged him to change his mind or pretended I didn’t hear him or something. Anyway, one line up and approach was enough for that afternoon. I never did hear back about it, so I guess he was OK with my decision.

Once everybody had recovered I got lined up several miles out, (probably a whole lot further than several) at what I remember was about 2000 feet above field elevation. We ran some various check lists and got the gear down and locked. My chase said they looked good and I had green lights now to go with all of the amber ones. I remembered to put the hook down (first time for everything!) and proceeded to settle the airplane in at about 190K. The Phantom, once trimmed, was a very stable airplane. That probably came from its initial design as an air to air platform for fleet defense. The thud drivers had to work harder than we did at low airspeeds, but at 500K the “Farmingdale Squat Bomber” was stable as a rock. Anyway, once we got on the final approach heading, we were pretty much under control. I used the rudder for alignment and thrust management kept us on some sort of acceptable glide path. Obviously, I didn’t need as much power going down clean as you did with the leading edge boundary layer and full flaps. That was a little strange, as we RARELY pulled the power back below 83-87% on final at approach speeds. I had a student do that for me later in life, and he nearly killed us. But I digress.

The airplane had to take the number one wire (there was no number two or three) and I had to miss the MA1A chain link barrier. This means that the hook had to hit in a space some fifty feet in length or there would be a go around and lots more talking. Oh well, guys in the brown shoe Navy do it all the time. What’s to worry?

Milk Run - Coming to a Close

2009-11-08T10:19:00.000-08:00

The briefings that were held at happy hours tended to be somewhat superficial, if you really want to know. A lot of ideas were always put forth and a lot of posturing would take place to defend one's ideas about almost any subject that was being discussed. When we talked about the so-called "approach end engagement" the conversations mostly dealt with why the hell you would have to do such a thing in the first place. This was a last ditch method to save one's neck without having to eject. Now Navy guys do this a lot. It's something they train for, wash out of the program for and spend a lot of time bragging about. Air Force professionals prefer large areas of concrete laid down on dirt. Landing on a floating piece of steel never seemed quite right somehow (how DOES that work, anyway?).

So here's your introduction to the piece of equipment known as the MA1A Barrier in combination with the Barrier Arresting Kit (BAK 9) (in the diagram).

(Quoting from an Ops Manual)

2. Types of USAF Systems.

2.1. MA-1A. The MA-1A emergency arresting system consists of a net barrier and

cable system designed to engage the main landing gear of an aircraft. Because it is a unidirectional system, it must always be installed in the overrun area.

Aircraft engaging this system above the speed and weight limits provided in Figure 2-

3 will result in a runout greater than 305 meters (1,000 feet), or cable failure. Most MA-1A systems employ ships' anchor chains as the energy absorber. These systems require a runout area of at least 259 meters (850 feet) plus the length of the aircraft. The chains lie on either side of the runway overrun, beginning at the barrier location and running in the direction of aircraft travel; however, some MA-1A systems use a BAK-9 instead of a ships' anchor chain

as the energy absorber. These systems require a runout area of at least 290 meters

(950 feet) plus the length of the aircraft. This configuration is an MA-1A/BAK-9 combination.

If you actually read all of that stuff above, you should note two important items:

First it says that this is a unidirectional system. It is designed to work one way.

Second, note which way the arrow is pointing. Right to left.

The thing is designed to catch a fighter that has aborted take off for whatever reason and it prevents the airplane from traveling out into the local boonies by arresting it with a net-like barrier or cable (like an aircraft carrier). It assumes a decelerating "catch" under about 180 knots (in typical use more like 80K). This is a departure end engagement.

In an approach end engagement, you engage the mechanism from left to right. Yup, wrong way on a one-way street. Oh and you don't want to catch the part of the barrier that is attached to the ship's anchor chains. Look at the diagram and you'll see that if used from right to left, you pick up the drag of one link, then two, then three and so forth. From left to right you grab the entire weight of the chain immediately and probably rip the ass off of your plane (or worse). You might want to note as well that there are about 35-50 feet between the chain catch and the cable catch.

I am starting to brag here.

Exciting Times!

2009-11-06T18:53:00.000-08:00

Can't write about simple combat in airplanes, I get to see some real combat in the Swamp!

Jeanie and I are at the 30 yard line, 16 rows up. I'm waving.

Go Gators!

Something Important For This Intermission

2009-11-05T14:11:00.000-08:00

About Vietnam Protesters

( And The Harm They Still Do )

B.Kortegaard

Peace? Defeat?
What did the Vietnam protesters want?

The self-serving anti Vietnam war movement damaged our country beyond measure.

In the process, they shamelessly denigrated all Americans who fought there.

This site attempts to keep these facts fresh in the minds of the American public. This is especially important today, as similar cowardly ignorance threatens the freedom we have won for the people of Iraq.

Before you read further, review your impressions about Americans who fought and suffered in The Vietnam War.

Now, ask yourself if your impressions are consistent with these facts:

• 9,087,000 military personnel served on active duty during the official Vietnam era from August 5, 1964 to May 7, 1975

◦ 2,709,918 Americans served in uniform in Vietnam (Actual Vietnam Veterans).

◦ The rest served their tours in Germany, Alaska, South America and the United States.

▪ Many protesters claiming to be Vietnam Veterans never served in Vietnam or any branch of the military.

• North Vietnam admittedly invaded democratic South Vietnam to further Marxist-Leninist ideology.

◦ With instruction and aid from the entire communist bloc.

• The American military did not lose a single significant battle in the Vietnam War.

◦ The US lost 60,157 KIA and MIA

▪ The Communists admit to 1,100,000 KIA and MIA.

◦ The Tet Offensive of 1968 was a military disaster for Hanoi.

▪ It resulted in the death of some 45,000 NVA troops and the destruction of most Viet Cong elements in South Vietnam.

◦ The fall of Saigon happened 30 April 1975, two years AFTER the American military left Vietnam.

▪ The peace settlement was signed in Paris on 27 January 1973.

▪ It called for release of all U.S. prisoners, withdrawal of U.S. forces, limitation of both sides' forces inside South Vietnam and a commitment to peaceful reunification.

▪ South Vietnam fell only because a pusillanimous congress failed to honor our pledges of support when the North violated the terms of the treaty.

• The ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations) countries, Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore and Thailand stayed free of Communism.

◦ This can be argued a result of the U.S. commitment to Vietnam.

◦ This is one argument for the validity of the "Domino Theory"

• Two-thirds of those who served during Vietnam were volunteers rather than draftees.

• 77 percent of those who died were volunteers.

• Of those who died, 86 percent were Caucasian, 12.5 percent were African-American, and 1.2 percent were from other races.

• Fully 91 percent of those who served in Vietnam combat stated that they were glad they had served their country.

• 74 percent said they had enjoyed their time in the military.

• 71 percent of those who expressed an opinion indicated that they would go to Vietnam again

◦ Even knowing the end result.

•

• Betrayed at home by the university elite, the media, and the privileged, in the final analysis they had fought for each other.

Most Americans who served in Vietnam were ordinary citizens, grateful to live in a Democracy, trusting our elected government to call upon them to bear arms only when necessary for the defense of our country and our freedoms. This has to be the assumption of anyone claiming citizenship in any country.

• The Vietnam War was regarded by those who fought it as a struggle to help preserve freedom and democracy for the people of South Vietnam against communist invasion.

•

• Post-war Communist documents show that was exactly the true situation.

•

• Pampered celebrities, such as Hanoi Jane Fonda and John Kerry, arrogantly helped divide our country in the name of stopping "an unjust war."

•

• As those Communist documents also show, these "protesters" actually helped cause unmeasurable tragedy, tragedy which better Americans sacrificed their own lives trying to prevent.

•

• In our Democracy, any government position faces judgment at the next national election, but the duty to respond when called is 24/7 for any responsible citizen.

•

• The main imbalance in the war, (as in the Korean War), was simply that the privileged avoided their obligations, and have persisted since that time in demeaning the war and the patriotism of those who did serve their country, in order to protect themselves from the judgment of history.

•

• Hopefully, this brief account will help remind us all of the truths behind the war, and those who fought it as Americans.

•

• In a very elementary way, America's actions in Vietnam define Patriotism.

•

• They do so again today, in Iraq.

•

A SOLDIER DIED TODAY

He was getting old and paunchy and his hair was falling fast,

And he sat around the Legion, telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he had fought in and the deeds that he had done,

In his exploits with his buddies; they were heroes, every one.

And tho' sometimes, to his neighbors, his tales became a joke,

All his Legion buddies listened, for they knew whereof he spoke.

But we'll hear his tales no longer for old Bill has passed away,

And the world's a little poorer, for a soldier died today.

He will not be mourned by many, just his children and his wife,

For he lived an ordinary and quite uneventful life.

Held a job and raised a family, quietly going his own way,

And the world won't note his passing, though a soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth, their bodies lie in state,

While thousands note their passing and proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell their whole life stories, from the time that they were young,

But the passing of a soldier goes unnoticed and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution to the welfare of our land

A guy who breaks his promises and cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow who, in times of war and strife,

Goes off to serve his Country and offers up his life?

A politician's stipend and the style in which he lives

Are sometimes disproportionate to the service that he gives.

While the ordinary soldier, who offered up his all,

Is paid off with a medal and perhaps, a pension small.

It's so easy to forget them for it was so long ago,

That the old Bills of our Country went to battle, but we know

It was not the politicians, with their compromise and ploys,

Who won for us the freedom that our Country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger, with your enemies at hand,

Would you want a politician with his ever-shifting stand?

Or would you prefer a soldier, who has sworn to defend

His home, his kin and Country and would fight until the end?

He was just a common soldier and his ranks are growing thin,

But his presence should remind us we may need his like again.

For when countries are in conflict, then we find the soldier's part

Is to clean up all the troubles that the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor while he's here to hear the praise,

Then at least let's give him homage at the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline in a paper that would say,

Our Country is in mourning, for

A SOLDIER DIED TODAY

© Kortegaard Engineering ©

Document: Vietnam Protesters

Last Update: Sun, 30 Mar 2008 15:31:20 GMT

Milk Run - Heading Home

2009-11-02T07:53:00.000-08:00

I probably wound up saying nothing except that which shouldn’t be posted here. It was pretty obvious what had happened. Like I said before, every now and then one of them pesky AA shells takes a life of its own and seeks a higher effective range than it’s suppose to. We were in its airspace.

First thing, fly the airplane. OK, so I did that and it seemed to respond to the controls. There was something distinctly different though. The best word that I can think of to describe the way the phantom was flying is wallowing - that is, it was rolling from side to side albeit in a controlled fashion. The F4C has hydraulically driven flight controls. It flies smoothly and reacts to pilot input quickly. This bird wasn’t flying that way. I found out later that left wing damage had pretty well cancelled out the effectiveness of the flight controls on that side. The ailerons and spoilers were not working properly, if at all. There was some new induced drag on that side of course since the sheet metal was all screwed up. The plane flew kind of like what I remembered the T-33 felt like. Big stick input. Wait! There! She’s beginning to move. Wallowing.

We were still heading up with a lot of power, so as I rolled back more or less level, I pulled back on the throttles and got that part of it under control. Level flight, heading to Ubon, reasonable speed. They say pilots react instinctively. That’s true. I can’t really remember doing anything as a result of analyzing the immediate situation. It was all reaction. Anyway, as soon as we could, Bill and I ran the checklist for lighted Christmas tree in the cockpit (the lights are in the lower right in the cockpit picture). One thing I do remember though, is how relieved I felt that we were still inside the airplane and not hanging on a parachute outside in the wind. That was a very good feeling.

My flight lead called and asked if everything was under control. He informed me that I was headed in the right direction and that he was joining up on me from seven o’clock low. Once there, he gave me a look over, but I have forgotten what he said. I’m sure that he mentioned that there were no more bombs attached (that’s good), I think he may have said something about all of hydraulic fluid stains under the wing. He was mainly interested in how we were doing and what our intentions were. First of all, my intention was to get the hell out of there and go “home”. We were already on the correct heading and our speed would get us there in about twenty minutes or so. That gave us time to think about what we were going to do to get the airplane on the ground. As Willy looked us over he had his own situation develop. He got one of those pesky low oil pressure lights and he had to RTB (return to base) ASAP. So long Willy. There were still a couple of guys nearby to watch us fly home. Meanwhile Bill and I assessed what we were dealing with.

I could control the aircraft fairly well. As it turns out I had flight controls on the right side only, that’s why it flew so sloppily. Some turning require almost a full stick deflection. There was a failure in the A system (PC 1) and Utility Hydraulics. Engines were both operating OK. The lack of hydraulics meant no brakes, no flaps, no nose wheel steering. Manual rudder control with attendant high pedal pressures. No gear retraction once they were down pneumatically. The “hook” would work and I would have to make an approach end barrier engagement. A no flap final airspeed with unknown battle damage could be around 200 knots. There would be no leading edge flaps and so no boundary layer control to help reduce the approach speed. I could deploy the “RAT” (ram air turbine) to see if that helped. It was unlikely. The drag chute would work, but wasn’t necessary in an approach end trap.

Good thing we had trained for this emergency. Too bad most of the training had taken place at happy hour.

Milk Run - BAM!

2009-10-30T14:15:00.000-07:00

In the business of daylight bombing, there is a distinct advantage over night time bombing under the light of flares. It lies mostly in the fact that you can see outside and generally tell what’s going on. Sometimes, however, you still can’t really know about what’s going on because there’s simply too much going on at the same time! Does that make sense? I’ve tried to let you experience some of what went on in the preparation and roll in to deliver weapons. A lot of stuff.

I forgot to mention that you still have to fly the airplane all the time too. If you forget to fly the airplane, bad things happen. Sometimes when you do the prep, get into the delivery mode and fly the airplane, bad things happen anyway. That was the case for me and my back seater Bill, that early afternoon day in November of ’65.

To digress a bit and set the scene some, there was a lot more going on than just a quick call for some air support or tactical bombing. It seems that intel had received word that a very large shipment of materiel was making its way down the trail to Tchepone (see the entry for September 7th, two blogs back). The area had been under almost constant attack since dawn. This is not good when you are the guys coming for the tenth or twelfth raid on the same target. First, there is no element of surprise left. Second, they are waiting for more folks to come along and bomb them and most importantly, they are really pissed. So there goes Dave and Bill, two first lieutenants, number two in a flight of four, down the slot. We were probably the twentieth group of yankee air pirates to visit that day. They were ready.

The 37mm Anti Aircraft guns and their crews were ready too. The range of that weapon is about 4 kilometers, or about 13,123 feet. In theory, if you stay fifteen thousand feet above the target area, you won’t get hit. Sometimes that doesn’t work, for every now and then, one shell will make it further. The golden BB. The one that got us. (You can click on the pictures to enlarge)

When you get hit by one of these things, an explosive charge goes off and thousands of pieces of lead and steel are propelled in a spherical shaped cloud. The idea behind it is, of course, to rip the airplane apart or in the very least so damage it that it won’t fly. Best of all, for those on the ground, the airplane might disintegrate in a cloud of smoke! Thankfully, the shell that hit us was a partial dud and only the bottom half of the charge went off ("How does he know this?" Sez you, the loyal reader. That's a part of the rest of the story). Even so the noise was very loud (like a cherry bomb at your feet) and the phantom shuddered like nothing I had ever experienced before. We had taken the hit a couple of feet from the leading edge and not far enough back to screw up the left main landing gear. There was a big hole in the left wing. The plane rolled over to the right about 200 degrees and flopped around like it was on the verge of forgetting how to fly. Most of the amber warning lights in the cockpit came on together as if someone had thrown a switch controlling a Christmas decoration you didn’t want to see.

The first thing that came to my mind was to tell Bill, “Don’t Eject!” In a microsecond I also thought, “What if he only hears ‘Eject!’”?

Milk Run - All Shook Up!

2009-10-29T09:28:00.001-07:00

The forward air controller talked with flight lead and described the target that he needed us to take care of. To be perfectly honest, I don’t remember what it was. It could have been that almost “invisible” bridge or something else that the FAC could see pretty easily, but we couldn’t, considering our altitude and speed as we circled above. Whatever it might have been, the FAC marked it with a phosphorous smoke rocket and the area of interest became very visible. “Lay the bombs down a hundred yards east of the smoke”, or something like that he’d say. “Your target is under the tree canopy, on a line southeast to northwest beginning east of the smoke and continuing for about a quarter of a mile”.

We followed Willy as he positioned himself on a perch, about fifteen thousand feet up (I really don't remember). It had to be close enough in (that is, off set) and high enough up (distance away, along the off set), to allow the pilot to maneuver into a fairly steep (some thirty to forty degrees) path which paralleled the target’s axis. If you were too far out, the glide path would be too shallow and the bombs would drop short, too close in and the opposite would happen. It took some maneuvering around, but it wasn’t as difficult as it may sound. The “pipper” a depressible, illuminated reticle, (ooops, does everyone know what that is? )

reticle |ˈretikəl|

noun

a series of fine lines or fibers in the eyepiece of an optical device, such as a telescope or microscope, or on the screen of an oscilloscope, used as a measuring scale or an aid in locating objects.

would have been preset to give the correct representation along the path over the ground as to the alignment of the Phantom along the desired run in. So you have these factors to confirm as you fly around positioning yourself on the lead and the other two planes in the flight - altitude to roll in, angle off to get the correct dive angle, pipper setting, arming the appropriate weapon stations, keeping your eye on the target, watching the smoke, airspeed within a few knots of correct release velocity, and listening for lead to be cleared in. Lead rolls in, I follow just enough behind him to give myself good spacing and allow me to recover without worrying too much about where he was going to be.

Ok, everything’s done. Rolling in hot. Good angle off. Acceptable dive angle (can adjust release to compensate). Pull throttles back a bit to maintain speed in the dive (seems like we used about 350-400 knots, but I forget). Watch altimeter. Adjust alignment for a better run in heading. Trim the airplane. Be aware of “G’s”. You want the plane to fly down the chosen path, all trimmed up and smooth as possible. Pipper moving along nicely towards smokey target area (a bunch of tree tops!). Willy’s bombs hit right on the target, my pipper crosses aiming point, I release. There’s only one spot in space that is the correct release point above any particular target. Airspeed, altitude, angle, pipper position all must be correct and perfect. This rarely happens. Most of the time you simply compensate one way or another for what you know to be the anomaly in your “perfect bomb run”.

When all of those bombs leave the plane there is a pretty big mechanical sounding jerky vibration. Over in a half second. You know the bombs are gone (hopefully, all of them).

The fun has just begun. If you’re smart, you’ll begin the 4 G (or whatever you can get) pull up with a hard turn, one way or another. Firewall the power. Follow this with another turn immediately in the other direction. Reverse. Reverse. Reverse again. Go up. Climb. Get the hell out of there! It’s called jinking, basically not setting up a straight line or climb angle for a gunner to get a sight on you. You can look in the rear view mirror to see if you hit anything, but don’t worry about that too much.

We had been briefed that there was no significant anti-aircraft weaponry in the area. They were wrong.

Milk Run - Turning Sour

2009-09-07T17:09:00.000-07:00

It's 135 miles from Ubon Royal Thai Air Force Base to Tchepone Laos, as the crow flies. You can see from the map at the right, the Ho Chi Minh trail came out of North Viet Nam, into Laos and paralleled the South Viet Nam border all the way down to Cambodia and beyond."It linked North and South Vietnam via the Laotian panhandle, and it was an indispensable source of supplies for communist forces operating below the 17thparallel in the 1960s and early 1970s. Air interdiction and special operations forces slowed but never stopped the flow of matériel. President Lyndon Johnson, primarily for political considerations, would not approve air strikes around Hanoi and Haiphong, which might have been more successful in the overall effort to disrupt enemy activities. Initially opened to support Viet Cong guerrillas in South Vietnam, the Ho Chi Minh Trail was nothing more than a skein of rustic traces through the wilderness in the late 1950s. Dedicated men, women, boys, and girls trudged down its paths bent bandy-legged beneath heavy loads, all but ignored by senior officials in Washington and Saigon because the invoices were unimpressive: a little rice, pitted handguns captured from the French, homemade weapons pieced together like so many Rube Goldberg inventions. The tempo, however, gradually picked up and the consignments increasingly included items such as radios, pharmaceuticals, plastic explosives, recoilless rifles, and repair parts. Ammunition requirements multiplied exponentially after U.S. combat forces hit North Vietnamese Army (NVA) regulars head on in 1965." (from Autumn/Winter 1997–98 / JFQ)

On 16 November 1965, Willie Wells and his flight of four phantoms took about thirty minutes to get to Tchepone. Flight lead contacted the FAC (Forward Air Controller) and began to get final instructions for the mission we had briefed.

It always seems simple enough. The idea is to cut the highway or destroy the bridge serving the highway. The enemy was clever. The "bridges" were built so that they were about two feet under the surface of the water and the road usually divided into a web of roads leading up to the river, and there was another web on the other side.

You really never knew where the bridge was.

Milk Run, Intelligence and the Art of Leaving Town

2009-09-06T16:27:00.000-07:00

OK, so maybe it wasn't REALLY Robert MacNamara who walked into the alert shack that afternoon. But it was an honest to goodness minion of his and he had some news about something or other that needed bombing really soon. "Since you guys aren't doing anything to earn a living just sitting around here playing cribbage, take four Phantoms, eight fighter jocks and about 52,000 pounds of bombs over here to this small town in Laos and blow up the bamboo bridge that leads into town." Well, something like that.

The name of the place was Tchepone Laos, (on most maps now, Sepone) about seventy-five miles west of the South China Sea, fifteen miles from the South Vietnamese border and the same distance from the cease fire line of 1954. Oh, did I mention? It was a major intersection of the Ho Chi Mihn Trail. This seemed easy enough we all thought, after all, it was daylight! We were going to be able to see where we were going by looking outside the airplane! It was a typical SE Asia early winter day - scattered clouds probably working their way up to a thunderstorm or two, no strong winds and unlimited visibility. A Phantom Phlyer's dream mission: flight of four, air to ground bombing, possible targets of opportunity after the initial passes, no reported triple A, only a hundred fifty miles from "home", quick and easy, back for dinner.

After the intelligence guy got through with his briefing, my flight leader "Willy" told us what he expected from us and we walked briskly out to the waiting airplanes. As we strapped in, we ran the cockpit check lists. It was designed so that each man had his own things to check and there was little need initially, for cross-checks. Once things were powered up, you’d put on your helmet and begin a brief crosscheck with the guy in back and then wait for start-up time. Firing up the engines was straight forward and then you’d switch to internal power and you’d be ready to go. It was easy to see the other guys, and the flight leader would say “Raven flight, check in.” We answer simply... “two, three, four.” The leader called the tower “Ubon, taxi Ravens.” The tower responded “taxi runway 27 right, wind two seven zero at eight knots, altimeter setting 29.89.” You’d go out to the ramp area and then to the taxiways and see the other guys and fall in line according to your position. It wasn't far to the end of the runway and there was the arming area. The pins on the bombs and rockets and other neat stuff would be removed and the armament would be further checked by ordinance people and made ready to go. I guess I should have mentioned before that initially the pilot just checks to be sure that the bombs, etc. are the ones called for on the mission and that they are in fact, safe to taxi with. He doesn’t pull pins on the weapons in the ramp area, that is the very last thing that is done before takeoff. The ordinance guys show all of the pins to the pilots double checking everything as being ready to go and then the leader will get a head shake from the guys indicating “ready”. He calls the tower, “Ubon, Raven ready for takeoff”. “Taxi into position and hold”. The four Phantoms taxi onto the runway and take their predetermined position, two by two. “Raven flight, winds two eight zero at ten knots, cleared for takeoff.” Willie points his right index finger up in the air and with a circular motion gives the signal to “wind up” the engines. You run each engine up separately (the engines on the F4’s were so powerful that the brakes wouldn’t hold if they were both powered up simultaneously) and check them out one last time. You nod to the leader and he powers up to about 85 percent on both engines, releases his brakes and I begin to count "one thousand one, one thousand two" and at five seconds or so, I release the brakes, apply 100% power, then into full afterburner. It doesn't take long to get to flying speed, airborne, and clean up the jet. As number two in the flight of four, I look for my leader, now turning North. I join him in the turn.

Milk Run, Finally We Get To Fly In The Daytime!

2009-09-03T14:51:00.000-07:00

I was priviledged to have as mentor, drinking instructor and flight C.O. a man who had flown in the Korean war. He taught us how to use a black grease pencil to mark on the inside of the canopy to use as a sight and other neat tricks. I think of him most every day and thank him for teaching me so much and being a friend and great leader (in his own cantankerous way).

I can see the guys sitting around, playing cribbage or something, waiting for someone to come in the room and announce that our skills in close air support were needed. Everybody was more or less similar in appearance, having partially prepared ourselves for the fastest exit and take-off possible.
So, you put your G-suit on first, then your survival vest, which had little pockets all over it containing stuff for use if the worst thing happened. There was a first aid kit and I also chose to have one hundred rounds of 357 ammo and some tracer bullets. A shoulder holster with its contents more or less duct taped in was in the next layer. I had purchased a Smith and Wesson 357 magnum with a six inch barrel (my personal weapon). They issued us a puny little thirty eight snub nosed thing of a revolver, but it seemed to me that I could fight my way out better with the magnum. This of course, was just a pipe dream and simply used to bolster my own confidence! Then there was the harness. It was a bunch of straps which went all around your chest, up through your crotch on either side and was all sewn on to a garment that could be said to resemble a vest, of sorts. We would typically get ready to fly by putting on a harness which connected to the rocket ejection seat in the plane. This was good, because everything remained in the plane and you didn’t have to lug it around like you did with the older fighters. This all hooked up to the ejection seat, as I mentioned. It wasn’t really as complicated or weighty as it may sound. It was comfortable, more or less and once you got everything fitted OK, which took some time initially, it was a good outfit and I felt that everything could be used for survival, if you were unlucky enough to be shot down and escape immediate capture.
The aircraft were assigned (in either flights of four or two) and they were all parked on the ramp that was just outside the squadron ops building. We either would walk or get a lift to the plane. Typically all of the planes would be fairly close together or even next to each other, so you could use hand signals for things if you needed to.

A guy from intelligence came in about two that afternoon.

Milk Run, The Briefing

2009-09-02T13:56:00.001-07:00

After we had been in Thailand for a couple of months, learning as we flew about strategic targeting, night refueling, long trips to North Viet-Nam and bombing things in valleys under the light of flares, we looked forward to what was called "alert".

Standing alert was almost a treat some days. The term comes from the fact that you weren't scheduled for any particular target or time. You stood by, on "alert", for someone to call in a need for close air support, or a quick response to a new threat discovered by "intelligence". It was a good way to spend an afternoon. Here's why. First of all you got to fly in the daytime! Secondly, the missions were quick, no airborne refueling, in most cases, the whole thing over in an hour or so. The hard part was often being so close to the friendlies - there was real concern over collateral damage.

Our leaders and their aircrews were very well trained, experienced, standardized and knew each other well enough to minimize the briefing required. It often was something like, "takeoff at 1545, this is the target, everything's standard, any questions?" It worked really well, considering the complexity of getting four bomb-laden Phantoms and their eight crew members into the planes, out to the runway, armed and off to fight in as few as twenty minutes or less. In the Deuce (Convair's F102), we made into the air in three or four minutes from a dead sleep, but that was an interceptor's mission, somewhat simpler.

Anyway, sitting on standby alert was a special treat. I can remember an afternoon in November of 1965 when I was on alert.

Valentine's Day - 1945

2009-08-27T14:31:00.000-07:00

This is the continuation of a story written by S/Sgt Chuck Walter, the armor gunner on my cousin Rufus' B-26. He is recalling the last flight of their crew and what happened to them after they were shot down.

The picture on the left is of me, age five or six and Rufus when he was still in the Aviation Cadet program at an airbase near our home in El Monte California.

At age twenty, Charles “Chuck” Walter became a member of the U.S. Army Air Corps. He would spend most of the war in a B-26 Marauder as an Armor Gunner attached to the 9th Air Force’s 323rd Bomb Group with the 455th Bombardment Squadron.

The Marauder was a fairly new plane to the Air Force. Ordered as a “twin-engine bomber with great emphasis placed on speed, range and operational altitude,” it was manufactured by the Martin Company. 5,157 planes would be used in the war efforts, including one flown by Jimmy Doolittle in North Africa to prove: “It’s just another airplane. Let’s start it up and play with it.”

The 323rd was first assigned to the 8th Air Force, then transferred to the 9th in October of 1943. In July of 1943 the group began attacking marshalling yards, airdromes, industrial plants, military installations and other targets in France, Belgium and Holland. It then undertook numerous attacks on V-weapon sites along the French coast and attacked airfields, and Leeuwarden and Venlo as part of the Allied campaign against the German Air Force and aircraft industry from 20-25th February 1944.

FEBRUARY 14, 1945
VALENTINE DAY MISSION #25

Flight going well until we encountered heavy flak at about 10:00 A.M. Right engine took heavy hit. We feathered the prop and dropped out of the formation, as we couldn’t maintain speed and position. We started back toward our lines, were met with oncoming flak from the ground. The engine caught fire at about 3500 feet. We did evasive action, trying to avoid getting hit. I was in the tail telling Willie, my pilot, where the shell bursts were, and we would turn away. We weren’t hit again but every time we turned to the dead engine side, we would lose altitude until we were at about 1200 feet.
My pilot rang the “bail out” button and the enlisted men bailed out. I was the farthest away in the tail, but was the second man out. My chute opened and I did one or two swings, being fired at on the way down, having bullet holes in my chute to prove it. I landed real hard on my butt, injuring my back. I also sustained burns from the flames that were coming in the waist window as I bailed out.
The gun crew that was shooting at us picked me up. Their crew chief was a little 5’5” fellow, but he had a P38 pistol pointed at me before I could get to my feet. The radioman, Rouser, was picked up by the regular army and was treated okay. Frank Miller, our engineer, was picked up by the townspeople and was beaten quite badly.
The first 24 hours were the worst because we didn’t know if any of the crew had survived. I was put in a jeep-type vehicle and taken by a private in the German Army to a gathering point. Our planes, fighters, were circling overhead; and every time my captor saw a plane, he would stop and run for the ditch, leaving me in the car. I was sure glad that our fighters didn’t see us. We finally arrived at the outpost where I was thrown in an upstairs bedroom in an old farmhouse, scared to death.
During the next twenty-four hours, planes bombed close enough that as I lay on the floor, I could see the plaster crack above me. The next day we made the outpost where I was joined by my engineer and radioman. While we were there, an ambulance arrived. In it were my pilot, Lt. Rufus Wilson, my co-pilot, 2nd Lt. John Weinstein, and my bombardier, 2nd Lt. James Rudig. Lt Wilson had a broken neck, dying three days later. The co-pilot, Weinstein, had broken bones, but Bombardier Rudig was not injured very much. The three officers had gone down and crash-landed with the plane. The hydraulic system had been shot out, and the doors of the plane would not open. The plane was on fire when it landed and was damaged quite badly.
There was a lot of screaming coming from within the plane when it landed. The rescuers thought that the enlisted men had not gotten out of the plane and were trapped inside by the flames. There may have been some of the enemy on the ground and the plane landed on or trapped them.
The interrogators took our money, anything else they wanted, and one dog tag. We were marched to the next place by one guard—an old soldier in the regular army. As we marched, we met forced laborers from different countries. They told us (sign language) that we would be killed.
We arrived in one town and went to the railroad station. While we were there, a group of townspeople gathered and started yelling. A crowd surrounded us, and we were afraid they were going to hang us. We walked out of the town with our soldier guard following behind. We finally arrived in Wetzler where they took all of our Air Force clothing and issued us plain U.S. Army clothing. Each of us got a long winter coat. We were then sent to Frankfurt on the Main to be questioned.
I was placed in a very small room and asked all kinds of questions about the U.S. Air Force. If we refused to answer questions put to us, the heat was turned up with each refusal. We were told that they didn’t need our answers—they were just trying to verify the information they had. They knew everything. They told me where we were based, the type of plane we flew, the
name of our commanding officer. Since they were getting no answers, they finally gave up and shipped us to Wuerzburg to a camp where we stayed for some time. Wuerzburg was a camp by a small town that held a 20MM gun barrel factory.
Our camp, located on top of a hill, was divided into two parts. One section was for POWs and the other was for the German Army troops. They thought it was a safe location for them, but the British low-level bombers could pinpoint their section and bombed the German part of the camp without touching our section. Every morning, weather permitting, our 26s would come in and bomb their factories. All of the townspeople would race up the hill to our camp for protection.
It was while we were in this camp that we first saw their jet fighters. We saw one of our planes attacked and shot down by their jets. Only three of the crew parachuted.
We arrived in Nuremberg and walked by the station and on to camp. At one time while we were there, the city was under siege for an entire day. The British Air Force took over where the Americans left off and bombed the city the entire night. The next morning there were a lot of new members in our POW camp—mostly British.
At times the British were firebombing. During those raids the Germans would attack the British planes in their night fighters. A direct hit on the incendiary-laden British planes lighted the skies for miles around.
Our Army was now moving in for the kill, so the Germans began moving us out of there to keep our troops from releasing us. There were many thousands of us on the road. The Americans were first in ranks. The British were next. I don’t recall how the remaining POW’s were lined up.
We walked seventeen days, arriving at Moosburg. During the march, we were kept alive by the Red Cross rations that were passed out to us—one package per three prisoners. The food didn’t always serve the whole formation. The captors did feed us at times, but the rations were very poor. But we were hungry so the bugs in the bean soup went unnoticed.
En route we would pass through small towns. If we spent the night, there was a ring of soldiers with guard dogs stationed around us. In the morning the dogs would get us out of hiding. I was the cook, my engineer was the fireman and the radioman was the thief. That radioman could steal an egg from under an old hen without her ever realizing it was gone. We slept in a barn one night and explored and found the farmer had hidden some wheat behind and under the hay. When we left, we had our socks and pockets full of grain. We traded for a coffee grinder and ground our wheat—almost like Cream of Wheat.
We slept one night in a shed of pine boughs. We discovered that the boughs covered ice and the “ice house” was a storage place for the farmer’s potatoes. I spent the night with a stick spearing potatoes. We had all we could carry when we left the next day.
One day while on march, we were going under a train trestle and some P47s dive-bombed it and strafed it while we were under it. Some of our POWs were killed but the planes had cameras synchronized with their guns. When they returned to base and studied the films, they discovered that they were attacking some POWs. From that point on, while we were on the march, we were put to bed every night and awakened every morning by a P51. He would fly beside us on a road fill, wave and smile and give us the ol’ “Thumbs Up”. Each time we stopped to rest, we marked our campsite with a ground sign, “POW”, made of toilet paper. We finally reached Moosburg, staying there some time before we were liberated.
On April 29th 1945 General George Patton overran our camp, releasing us. Our first act was to look for something to cat. We went down the road to a farmhouse, confiscated some tame rabbits and on the way back to camp, picked up some chickens—really traded for them. We took the chickens but left the rabbits in their place.
We were flown out of Germany, then taken by train to Reims, France, on May 8th 1945, the very day the Germans were signing their surrender. We were taken to Camp Lucky Strike near Le Harve, France. After four weeks we boarded the ship, Monticello, for our journey back to the States. The time at Lucky Strike was spent sleeping, eating and getting our strength back.

Memories of War: “I’ll Bring Her In”

2009-08-27T14:15:00.000-07:00

This blog entry is about my cousin, Rufus Wilson, 1/LT, United States Army Air Force. The text was written by S/Sgt. Charles H. Walter, U.S. Army Air Corp, 9th Air Force, 323rd Bomb Group 455th Bombardier Squadron. I will conclude the story tomorrow with part two. See the entry on Monday, May 25, 2009 for some background.

Coming back from a mission, we were waiting to land but did not know our nose wheel would not come down. After discovering our problem, we talked to our Commanding Officer and decided that the crew would stay with the plane. We circled until our ship was the last plane aloft. We tried to lower the nose wheel but after opening the hatch, we found the hydraulic line was ruptured and was spewing fluid all over and inside the cockpit. The windows were covered and the pilot could not see out.
Pilot “Willie” opened the side window and “flew her in.” While in the air, the crew decided to go to the rear of the plane to keep the weight far back to help keep the nose of the ship off the ground as long as possible. We would be landing at 130 miles per hour.
I was sitting with my butt behind the bulkhead - my radioman between my legs. We had hardly touched down when he freed himself and jumped out of the waist window. The last I saw of him he was rolling down the runway. I thought he would surely be killed. He survived with not even a broken bone. We landed with a full bomb load. I had to go back and deactivate the bombs before we landed. We continued down the runway to the end and nosed it in.
All of this was being watched and recorded by Associated Press. The crew was later interviewed and the following appeared in the Stars & Stripes.
“Sergeant Walter had very little to say about his recent narrow escape when a crippled bomber came back to the base with the bomb bays still loaded. The bombs had not been released because of the danger to Allied soldiers near the bomb target. Sergeant Walter enclosed the following clipping from the Stars & Stripes the newspaper for men overseas; which gives an account of the perilous flight: ‘Don’t worry. I’ll bring her in all right,’ Lieutenant Rufus Wilson, 23 year-old Marauder pilot from Corsicana, Tex., radioed the control tower as his plane, its nose shell shot away, circled the field with a full crew and full bomb load.
“Colonel Wilson R. Wood, of Chico, Tex., group commander, approved the crew’s decision to stay aboard and suggested that the explosives be left aboard to hold the tail down. Wilson brought the plane down on its two main wheels and for two- thirds the length of the runway he kept both the tail and nose off the ground. Unable to apply the brakes because of the danger of the ship nosing over, Wilson rode the screeching Marauder off the end of the runway. The nose dipped and propeller hit turf but the plane didn’t tip over.
“Crew members included Lieutenant James Rudig, South Bend, Ind., bombardier; Staff Sergeant Frank Miller, Atlantic City, N. J., engineer; Sergeant Charles Walter, Knoxville, Iowa, tail gunner; Lieutenant Louis Carrington, Houston, Tex., co-pilot, and Sergeant Martin Terrell, Little Rock, Ark., radio operator.”

December 26th
Going to briefing early the 26th. Weather clear and cold. We had already flown 3 missions in 3 days and this would be our second of the day. In the briefing room, we were informed of our second mission of the day. They informed us the target would be heavily defended with 99 guns. There were 52 ships - 3 boxes of 18. Our flight failed to release our bombs on the first run so made a second pass. Lt. Fox and crew were flying Mission Belle on her 149 mission. He was flying on our left wing when the plane was hit by flak and exploded, going down. No survivors.
Lt. Fox was a very good friend of mine. We were also hit and thrown out of control and out of formation, but my pilot regained control. We returned to formation and dropped our load on target., On our way back to the base, I roamed the plane and picked up two handfuls of flak. Luckily, no one was hit. After landing, I counted the flak holes for a total of 129. For this mission my pilot, Lt. Wilson, received the Distinguished Flying Cross and the 323rd Group received the Group Citation.

On his copy of his pilot’s “Flying Cross” memorandum, Chuck wrote: “At this time of this award, Lt. Wilson was missing in action. His plane had been shot down in a raid. His crew were taken prisoners. Lt. Wilson sustained fatal injuries in this crash and died three days later. The crew remained prisoners until the end of the war. Lt. Wilson’s body was returned home in 1950.”

A Fly In A Coffee Cup

2009-08-26T12:31:00.000-07:00

What happens when a fly falls into a coffee cup?

The Italian throws the cup and walks away in a fit of rage.

The Frenchman takes out the fly and drinks the coffee.

The Chinese eats the fly and throws away the coffee.

The Russian drinks the coffee with the fly, as it was included at no extra charge.

The Israeli sells the coffee to the Frenchman, the fly to the Chinese, buys himself a new cup of coffee, uses the extra money to invent a device that prevents flies from falling into coffee.

The Palestinian blames Israel for the fly falling into his coffee, protests the act of aggression to the UN, takes a loan from the European Union to buy a new cup of coffee, but uses the money to purchase explosives, and then blows up the coffee house where the Italian, the Frenchman, the Chinese and the Russian are all trying to explain to the Israeli that he should give away his cup of coffee to the Palestinian.

What's Wrong WIth Us?

2009-08-23T17:02:00.000-07:00

What has happened to our country? Why do we have a president who is unqualified? His resumé includes instructing in the socialist tactic (community organizer, a la Saul Alinsky). His socialist backing goes back at least to 1996, when he received the endorsement of the Chicago branch of the Democratic Socialists of America [which describes itself as the largest socialist organization in the United States and the principal U.S. affiliate of the Socialist International] for an Illinois state senate seat.

Why do we have a president who is a racist? Obama -- along with such notables as Al Sharpton and Jeremiah Wright -- helped organize the October 1995 Million Man March in Washington, DC, which featuredNation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan. Said Obama in the immediate aftermath of the March:

"What I saw was a powerful demonstration of an impulse and need for African-American men to come together to recognize each other and affirm our rightful place in the society…. Historically, African-Americans have turned inward and towards black nationalism whenever they have a sense, as we do now, that the mainstream has rebuffed us, and that white Americans couldn't care less about the profound problems African-Americans are facing."

In this century, we are experiencing a sequence of human behavior which not only affects nations, but churches, businesses and other long term entities where founding generations pass on, replaced by those who are unaware of the sacrifices of their progenitors.

A certain zeal and a willingness to sacrifice one's self for a movement or activity characterizes the founders. They are replaced by those who saw from a safe place the formation of the institution; then come those who have only heard about the fight. They develop a certain apathy about it, they are in turn succeeded by a generation whose main characteristic is some sense of entitlement. We are seeing a generation coming up whose whole world view is characterized by "me first". All you have to do is read about what goes on on the college campus. You can see how dissenters from the "new norms" are treated with rudeness and even violence.

Thank God there are men and women who have not been deceived. They are the remnant which will restore the Republic.

Alexis de Tocqueville accurately described the dilemma which now faces our beloved Nation, "The Christian nations of our age seem to me to present a most alarming spectacle; the impulse which is bearing them along is so strong that it cannot be stopped, but it is not yet so rapid that it cannot be guided: their fate is in their hands; yet a little while and it may be no longer."

"All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing." Edmund Burke.

Must Read, honest!

2009-08-03T16:31:00.000-07:00

If you have a minute left in your day, take time to read my friend's commentary and send it on to folks who love this Nation.

It is important that people understand what's happening. I am not one to go off half cocked, I am methodical and thorough. I believe the Alan Caruba has put our situation down in an understandable way. Please read it as a favor to me.

The Perfect Storm

Thanks.

A Year Has Gone By…

2009-07-27T15:13:00.000-07:00

It is exactly one year to the day that I began this blog. I have written more than fifty entries. I was hoping to be more verbose, but so much happened that I feel good about the things I did get to write about.

I am right back to the books of Nehamiah and Acts in my Bible reading program (see "Lofty Pressures", 27 July 2008). This has been a good experience for me. Although I cannot say I have read the Word cover to cover this past year, I can say that I have begun a habit. One I heartily recommend.

Many things gave me a lot of joy in the last 52 weeks. Writing briefly about my family and adventures of my childhood were challenging and I hope to write about many more years of growing up in a most loving home (my Dad DID get the green 1950 Ford Convertible). Some have said that flying adventures might be of interest (did I tell you the one about getting all shot up, but never shot down?). That was in my Air Force days, by the way.

Medical things were important and I suspect that they will remain so for the rest of my life. The best part will be trying to trace the $$$$$ spent by Medicare, DeltaCare and me for that last "procedure". Billed and paid for the first time, they forgot to ask if I had received the service. OOOPS! I hadn't been in their care on those dates and the operation hadn't taken place. KACHING! $$$$. There is no sound to a wired transfer. Let's see if I get to pay for it again, now that I've been under the knife. I've pretty much stopped glowing from the radiation and I'm looking forward to being closer to the grandkids. Prostate symptoms are minimal, but don't forget your Flowmax!

Going to church is fun again, provided we're late. It's good for Jeanie and I to listen to great preaching.

This is what I'm suggesting for this new fiscal year (blogger year?). More of the story for the kids and others who might be interested. An exposé (if possible) of the healthcare situation, at least from my perspective and most importantly my views on what the God of the universe is doing in my life and the situations around the world.

2009-07-26T16:08:00.000-07:00

We went to church again this morning. You may recall that I mentioned our desire to begin attending a good, Bible teaching church, where the Pastor knew what he was supposed to be doing. It seems that so many churches these days are trying to appeal to the broader elements of society rather than remembering and performing in the manner described in the New Testament. For starters,

2Timothy 4:2 Preach the word! Be ready in season and out of season. Convince, rebuke, exhort, with all longsuffering and teaching.

And of course,

Ephesians 4:11 And He Himself gave some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers,

12 for the equipping of the saints for the work of ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ,

13 till we all come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to a perfect man, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ;

14 that we should no longer be children, tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men, in the cunning craftiness of deceitful plotting,

Well, anyway, we found such a place and you may also recall Jeanie and I pledged to support and pray for the staff and others in that family. You may also recall (see "Good News!, Sunday June 14, 2009, on this blog) that I wrote,

"I have come up with our solution. We will go to church late. We will leave the house when church begins and arrive in time for the one (hopefully) quiet contemplative hymn or the modern variation thereof which comes before the sermon. We will not be embarrassed and we will give, love and support this church and never speak of this again. Except in the car, afterwards, having arrived on time for some reason beyond my control."

I have to take back that last. I need to speak of it again.

After a marvelous, well thought out discussion and teaching on Romans 8:28-30, we were all contemplating the beauty of God's eternal plan for those of us in His family by our acceptance of the free gift of salvation through the work of Jesus, the messiah. Praying in our quiet time, arranging thoughts in a manner we hope will please God the Father. Meditating quietly on the depth of the lesson we had just heard. Allowing the joy of that understanding to flood our soul and comfort our very core. A great moment for me, one that doesn't come easily to a person such as I am. Then in this beautiful moment of serenity and closeness to God Himself,

BAM!

The drummer hit the bass drum pedal and the bass guitar player created a riff that would be comfortable at a Grateful Dead concert. I actually jumped and my heart reacted for an uncomfortable minute, pounding away as if I had been in combat (I know, I've been there!). What is up with this? Why do we have performance art in the church? How do the musicians get on the platform during the pastor's closing prayer, his intercession with God on behalf of us in the auditorium? Do they think their music is more important than what the pastor is saying to God on their behalf?

Moreover, if we stopped music like this in the church gatherings, would anyone be there? If we limited ourselves to singing Scripturally based choruses, would someone learn some Bible verses? Heaven forbid! Think of the money we'd save in electricity alone, not to mention the cost of an ambulance to take me to the emergency room.

Annie and Ava - BFF

2009-06-28T17:14:00.000-07:00

If "Poppie" ain't around and "Grammie's" far away, then it's "Annie" for Ava Suzanne Thompson.

As we are blessed to watch Ava some days while Noelle or Scotty are busy with other things, all one has to do to get some quiet time and calming down in the house is listen for those words of wisdom from Ava "Watch Annie"!

She goes into Andy's old bedroom and gets the three plastic chairs, brings them to front row center (two feet from the screen). Invites some teddys and doggies to sit down with her, and gives me about fifteen seconds to get it going or it's "WATCH ANNIE!"

We've watched it at least five times this past week. One good thing amongst many is the fact that it is a fairly good movie, with what I call "hummable tunes" (unlike church - another blog entry). To hear Ava sing "Tomorrow" is priceless (even if I am the granpa). The fact that I have only seen five different segments of the movie helps too, I haven't actually sat down with Ava and watched it from start to finish. I should, I guess to get the context of all of these great scenes in my mind.

For me, Carol Burnett steals the show as the alcoholic and "needy" Mrs. Hannigan. With lines like "I never could understand why anyone would want to be an orphan", and "I thought orphans were supposed to be boys!" coming from Albert Finney, the whole movie is worth watching, HMMMM, maybe five times a week.

Ava thinks so.

Father's Day

2009-06-22T14:10:00.000-07:00

Well, here we are. I was trying to think of a way to include all of us Wilson fathers so everyone will know where they are headed. Andy is the lucky one, he missed the Wilson nose. What shall we imagine that Isaac and Braden will look like when they are fathers? This post does work as a time machine of sorts to get us to thinking of how we never stop growing, we never stop aging, until we stop. Life is just that cycle, there is nothing new going on, just things going differently.

2 “Vanity of vanities,” says the Preacher; “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.”
3 What profit has a man from all his labor In which he toils under the sun?
4 ¶ One generation passes away, and another generation comes; But the earth abides forever.
5 The sun also rises, and the sun goes down, And hastens to the place where it arose.
6 The wind goes toward the south, And turns around to the north; The wind whirls about continually, And comes again on its circuit.
7 All the rivers run into the sea, Yet the sea is not full; To the place from which the rivers come, There they return again.
8 All things are full of labor; Man cannot express it. The eye is not satisfied with seeing, Nor the ear filled with hearing.
9 ¶ That which has been is what will be, That which is done is what will be done, And there is nothing new under the sun.
10 Is there anything of which it may be said, “See, this is new”? It has already been in ancient times before us.
11 There is no remembrance of former things, Nor will there be any remembrance of things that are to come By those who will come after. (Ecclesiastes, chapter one)

If you get a grip on this portion of Scripture, the life you lead will take on new meaning. The only lasting efforts are those designed to accomplish God's purposes for eternity.

Seeds

2009-06-18T14:08:00.001-07:00

I made it. Some of the worst is over and I can relax now and hope that the prostate cancer bug is being bugged by my newly acquired radioactive demeanor. I do not glow all that much. The biggest downside to all of this is limited contact with the grandkids and those folks who might become pregnant for one reason or another (hopefully, it's the one reason).

I had a good experience and very limited discomfort. The biggest problem with having things like this done to your body lies between your ears, not your hips. I have posted a picture of what radioactive brachytherapy seeds look like, compared to a penny. Then if it all works good, there's a picture of my very own seeds now in place. Other things are pictured there, as well. The catheter, some bony structures and other mystery parts. This should satisfy those of you who want to look. I'll refer you to the picture.

The hospital folks were most hospitable (as they should have been after all) and they were able to use up paper faster than Delta Airlines did (does). When we left, we had been asked the same set of questions at least four times and each person dutifully entered my answers into the computer and had it printed out somewhere. I would like to have the sticky label franchise for this hospital too. Everything that wasn't bolted to the ground seemed to have a label of some sort on it (often more than one) and anything I brought with me was quickly labeled (myself included). It all must have worked because I left with all of my belonging and some new good stuff to keep.

They gave me a lead-lined bag to put any radioactive materials I may "pass" in. I'm not sure what one does with them then, but there's probably a label stuck to the box the bag came in that tells me in six different languages. Of course retrieval is through the use of a fine sieve. I am committed to "passing" through this device for quite a while now. When this is over, it will make a fine kitchen utensil. OOOOPS! no one will ever enjoy my cream of leek soup from now on.

The catheterization experience is one I'll speak to men about over cigars and brandy. Who invented Vicodin anyway? Enough said.

In case anybody ever reads this, and cares - I'm fine. The cancer is almost sure to be eliminated and good times are on the horizon. Tonight there'll be white wine (did I tell you about grüner veltliner?) and good chinese leftovers.

Oh, and the half life of the radioactive seeds is about ninety days, pretty much the same for the chinese foods.

Stop!

2009-06-17T08:00:00.000-07:00

Ok, here's the thing…

DO NOT, repeat, DO NOT, go to the internet and google the name of the medical procedure you are about to have that afternoon. Twice now I have not followed my own good advice. You blog fans may recall that I googled "chemical stress EKG" back in April and came up with much more than ANYBODY would want to know about the chemical part of that search. It turned out to be correct information, but not what was in store for me. I was allowed to get one more sleepless night out of it, thank you very much. The test came out OK, and the Doctor signed the release form and paid his airport fees for the month.

I did it to myself again when I googled "brachytherapy images" Tuesday morning, preparing for this blog entry. Trust me, HEAR? do not do this. Not even if it is "splinter removal". Although come to think of it, that's not a bad idea for some 'cause you might read about what Jesus had to say about it.

41 “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?

42 How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. (Luke 6)

Anyway, I began to look at the images and couldn't make it past the first few before I closed the page. So, forewarned is forearmed, or something like that. Got it? Don't do it.

Good News!

2009-06-14T15:25:00.000-07:00

I am most happy to report that Jeanie and I went to church this morning. Yeah! That's right, church. We manifested ourselves to others as a part of the "Big C" Church and worshipped God in Spirit and in Truth. You have to know (if you know me at all) that I was glad to find myself in church with folks who are as interested as I am in finding out about God and most importantly, His Son, Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ. Alleluia! The message, from the short letter written by Jude (Jesus' half brother) was great and Pastor Dave J. did a wonderful job of relating the Scriptures to our current needs and proclaiming the Lordship of Christ as well. The time spent studying went quickly and before you knew it, it was time to go.

I'm about to drop the other shoe.

Jeanie and I are old (as some may know). We like music of many kinds and listen to some things here at home or at least recognize the good stuff on the wireless or played on the iPod. That said, we still have a hard time coming to grips with having been disenfranchised from our worship experience during the instrument playing/chanting portion of the service in most of the "modern" churches of today. The music (I don't want to call it that, but I can't come up with a more descriptive term) in churches these days seems to be simply performance art. I would guess that fewer than a third of the congregants were singing along with the instrumentalists, however, most gave hearty applause when each song was over (hmmm, I just began to wonder WHY they were clapping). Anyway the loudness of the instrument playing was such that we sat in the back row and I looked at the floor most of the time.

I have come up with our solution. We will go to church late. We will leave the house when church begins and arrive in time for the one (hopefully) quiet contemplative hymn or the modern variation thereof which comes before the sermon. We will not be embarrassed and we will give, love and support this church and never speak of this again.

Except in the car, afterwards, having arrived on time for some reason beyond my control.

Now, I Understand…

2009-06-02T19:43:00.000-07:00

An Easily Understandable Explanation of Derivative Markets

Heidi is the proprietor of a bar in Detroit. She realizes that virtually all of her customers are unemployed alcoholics and, as such, can no longer afford to patronize her bar. To solve this problem, she comes up with new marketing plan that allows her customers to drink now, but pay later.

She keeps track of the drinks consumed on a ledger (thereby granting the customers loans).

Word gets around about Heidi's "drink now, pay later" marketing strategy and, as a result, increasing numbers of customers flood into Heidi's bar. Soon she has the largest sales volume for any bar in Detroit.

By providing her customers' freedom from immediate payment demands, Heidi gets no resistance when, at regular intervals, she substantially increases her prices for wine and beer, the most consumed beverages. Consequently, Heidi's gross sales volume increases massively.

A young and dynamic vice-president at the local bank recognizes that these customer debts constitute valuable future assets and increases Heidi's borrowing limit. He sees no reason for any undue concern, since he has the debts of the unemployed alcoholics as collateral.

At the bank's corporate headquarters, expert traders transform these customer loans into DRINKBONDS, ALKIBONDS and PUKEBONDS. These securities are then bundled and traded on international security markets. Naive investors don't really understand that the securities being sold to them as AAA secured bonds are really the debts of unemployed alcoholics.

Nevertheless, the bond prices continuously climb, and the securities soon become the hottest-selling items for some of the nation's leading brokerage houses.

One day, even though the bond prices are still climbing, a risk manager at the original local bank decides that the time has come to demand payment on the debts incurred by the drinkers at Heidi's bar. He so informs Heidi.

Heidi then demands payment from her alcoholic patrons, but being unemployed alcoholics they cannot pay back their drinking debts. Since, Heidi cannot fulfill her loan obligations she is forced into bankruptcy. The bar closes and the eleven employees lose their jobs.

Overnight, DRINKBONDS, ALKIBONDS and PUKEBONDS drop in price by 90%. The collapsed bond asset value destroys the banks liquidity and prevents it from issuing new loans, thus freezing credit and economic activity in the community.

The suppliers of Heidi's bar had granted her generous payment extensions and had invested their firms' pension funds in the various BOND securities. They find they are now faced with having to write off her bad debt and with losing over 90% of the presumed value of the bonds. Her wine supplier also claims bankruptcy, closing the doors on a family business that had endured for three generations, her beer supplier is taken over by a competitor, who immediately closes the local plant and lays off 150 workers.

Fortunately though, the bank, the brokerage houses and their respective executives are saved and bailed out by a multi-billion dollar no-strings attached cash infusion from the Government. The funds required for this bailout are obtained by new taxes levied on employed, middle-class, non-drinkers.

Now, do you understand?

Rufus Newton Wilson

2009-05-25T18:23:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of me with a member of the "greatest generation". His name was Rufus Newton Wilson, and he was born in November of 1921. He died February 17, 1945, he was, like so many, taken away from us in the prime of his young years.

It looks like he is in the U.S. Army's Aviation Cadet program when this picture was taken. I suspect that it was in El Monte California, probably in 1943 or 1944 (do I look to be about five or six?). El Monte is outside of Los Angeles, east, on the way to San Bernardino. There was a pilot training base at March Air Field during the second World War. You'll note the military attire for both of us in one picture and the natty white shirt and blue short-pant suit in the second. I have often wondered about the prophetic nature of this picture. Me in military attire, idolizing my cousin, never imagining what he'd go through in a few short years. I have waited too long to do this research. It is late in the day right now and I'll have to continue tomorrow. Needless to say, his life was ended in Europe, when his aircraft was shot down by hostile fire. I don't know where for sure. I'm not sure what kind of aircraft it was. More later about Rufus - my hero.

¿Where's The Beef?

2009-05-01T14:40:00.000-07:00

For dinner last night we had the salsa (see yesterday), guacamole (made with the salsa) and carnitas (my effort to reduce carriers of the so-called "swine flu"). Everyone seemed to like the combo, so I'll let you in on the secret to a great carnitas. What is it? Time. Four hours or more, to be exact. The recipe is pretty simple.

Take (purchase, really) a three pound or so boneless pork shoulder or "butt" or whatever they call those things. You know what I mean. Place it in a dutch oven (I use our old, 40 years plus, pot we got as a wedding present). Quarter a large onion or two and put them in, also, 2 cans of "Ortega" green chiles, four cloves of garlic, smashed, four bay leaves, a generous amount of fresh ground black pepper and a can of chicken broth. If you like it spicy, you can put a fresh jalapeño pepper, cut in half lengthwise. Place the pot, uncovered in the oven set at 350 degrees. The broth may or may not cover the pork, it doesn't matter. Let it cook for an hour and flip the meat over. Another hour and it might start to come apart a bit. Try to pull it apart, as the desired outcome is a sort of "pulled pork". Work with it for the next couple of hours, pulling the meat apart and stirring in the brown parts. The whole thing will start to dry out a little. You may want to add a cup of water or so in case it's not getting tender and pulling apart. Ideally, when it's cooked you'll have a pot of meat all shredded, the onions and chiles will have disappeared and there will be crispy bits throughout. It's good. Typically you don't need to add salt because of the sodium in the chicken broth.

We serve it as a filling for soft tacos with beans and a bit of shredded cabbage with guacamole, salsa and cheese. I always put some of the meat in the beans to help season them.

Enjoy!

Fulfilling My Promise, ¡Olé!

2009-04-30T15:46:00.000-07:00

When I started this effort to chronicle whatssup, I promised that, on occasion, I would include some Wilson family recipes. Today, this has been fulfilled in your sight. Preparing these things are pretty much by memory for me, but every now and then I'll get the instructions out and see where I'm at as far as doing it correctly. Sometimes I change the recipe. Today is

¡SALSA!

The funny thing about this method is that many people think they can't find the tomatoes it takes to make it look and taste so fresh. Secret Numero Uno, "BUY CANNED DICED TOMATOES"

So here's the recipe. Good luck.

Dave’s Salsa fresca...

Salsas are personal sauces used for everything from a dip for chips to seasoning guacamole, to spicing up grilled shrimp. My salsa recipe seems to have evolved from a simple tomatoes and jalapeño mix to what was (at least when I made it last time) a more complicated sauce.

I like to use tomatillos as well as red tomatoes as a base. This is a personal preference. The tomatillos bring a certain “zing” which takes away from the sweetness of the tomatoes. Well here’s how I did it last time. I’ll mention certain techniques which seem to help speed the process up and keep the number of dishes to a minimum. Now that I’m writing this down, I may have to do it the same way twice, just to see if this is truly a recipe, or not. Enjoy.

Equipment I use...

A large (12” diameter, 5” deep) bowl

A medium colander which will fit down inside the bowl

I say medium because it’s not a coarse colander like you’d use for draining pasta, and it’s not a fine one like you’d use for sifting flour or other dry ingredients. It all depends on how “chunky” you want the finished product to be. The colander is used for draining the juices that come out of the tomatoes. If you want a really liquid salsa, skip the colander, it’s just something I like to use. The large bowl allows the salsa to spread out and drain efficiently.

A “cuisinart” food processor fitted with a metal blade.

I suppose you could use a blender, but it might be more difficult, since you’d have to scrape it down much more often during the process.

Ingredients...

Four or five medium sized ripe red tomatoes, whatever looks best in the market. Actually, I have been using canned “diced” tomatoes lately and they seem to work just fine when there are few “real” tomatoes available.

About six or seven small (about the size of a lime) tomatillos.

Look for very firm, almost hard tomatillos. Make sure the “parchment like” outer covering has not deteriorated too much. The covering should be split in several places, allowing you to see the fruit inside. Watch out for soft spots on larger fruits. Check for undocumented residents. I have found that roasting these at 400 'til some color appears and then "deglazing with a little water to get the burt sugar, makes for an interesting addition.

You want about one-third tomatillos, two-thirds red tomatoes by volume.

One medium onion

Four cloves of garlic

One jalapeño pepper (seeds and pith removed for medium heat)

One-half of a bunch of cilantro leaves, not too many stems - not italian parsley!

Freshly ground black pepper (about a half teaspoon, or to taste)

Salt to taste (about a quarter teaspoon, probably more)

Dried Mexican oregano (about a quarter teaspoon, rubbed between hands), or some cumin - this according to taste, one or the other.

Lime juice

Method...

Quarter onions, tomatoes and tomatillos and process separately in cuisinart ‘til desired “chunkiness”. This will probably take several batches in the machine. Don’t crowd the ingredients. Process until the mixture looks like a really watery green/red oatmeal. As the ingredients are processed, put them in the colander to drain, if desired. In the last batch of the tomatoes to be processed, include the pepper, garlic and cilantro and process a little finer. Don’t put these into the colander. Pour the finished salsa into a bowl and add salt, pepper, lime juice, stir and let sit for a while, adjust salt.

As we approach California's most important , biggest money-making, most accepted nuevo holiday (if you read the newspaper advertisements), I'll post some more recipes. By next Tuesday, the cinco, you should have enough info for a complete California meal!

I hope you took the time to look at the YouTube video I posted yesterday. It is important. Please look at it and send it around to your friends.

Panting, and I Don't Mean Dockers…

2009-04-29T19:41:00.000-07:00

I'm still here. A word to the wise, be sure you have the correct MEDICAL term for what you're purchasing at the clinic before you look it up on the internet.

That said, I'm still here.

So, the procedure they told me I was to experience was the EKG where they "chemically" induce stress and your heart thinks you're running, but you're laying on a table. Bad news.

The EKG I got this afternoon was the old fashioned kind where you walk, then run until your heart gets to about 140 beats per minute or so (sort of like the way Jack Bauer's is all of the time). Once you reach that rate and sustain it or more for a minute, the tech comes in and shoots some radioactive stuff in an already placed IV. Apparently this stuff radioactively "stains" your heart in a way that can be photographed (actually you radiate the "film" somehow) and viola! they can see your arteries, etc. on your heart without the invasive angiogram methodology. Good for them. I'm glad that someone invented this thing.

It was an interesting way to spend an afternoon.

The alternative had been of course, equally nuclear. Seed implant - don't ask where. But now I am waiting for the doctor to call or the website to be updated. I guess if they don't call me ASAP, I don't need a triple bypass on Friday. That's good news because I was going to make carnitas and have a marguerita or two over the weekend because of the upcoming national holiday here in Norte California.

More on this part of my saga vitae later. Let's all be sure to watch this UTube video. Promise?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-3X5hIFXYU&feature=email

Thanks for your prayers and concern.

Somehow, I Knew This Was Going To Happen…

2009-04-27T13:20:00.000-07:00

A few minutes ago, they called and cancelled everything. EVERYTHING! It wasn't because I've suddenly been found to be healthy, no, it's because I've suddenly been found to be less healthy - all over again. It seems that there wasn't a time for me to have the stress EKG I told you about last week. So, without that test, and its attendant review, there is no surgery. When I calm down, I'll let you know what's happening. Right now I'm trying to understand why there are so few people in Santa Cruz who can run one of those stress EKG machines.

I am a real fan of the scenario which keeps me safe and healthy. Safe, in this case. Obviously, I'm not very healthy.

Well, the good news is that I don't really need the surgery (seed implant) right away. We found the anomaly very early.

The bad news is that it has been rescheduled for late June. JUNE! Holy Cow, another six or more weeks of restlessness and then all of those Doctor appointments all over again. How's that for taking a bite out of summer? Don't even mention my budget. Maybe I can get a discounted re-visit rate when it comes time to have some more of those fifty dollar a minute visits.

TGIF

2009-04-24T16:27:00.001-07:00

Fridays are always weird. Everyone who works on a more or less "normal" schedule looks forward to Fridays because it means that Saturday is next (DV). When I was working, both as a heavy equipment operator for Delta Airlines and as a pastor, the week-ends were not necessarily a time of rest or "honey do" lists. In the airline business most days are like any other days. In the preaching business, Saturday means that Sunday's coming! Has the Lord spoken to you yet? I'm happy to report that I got the preparation for Sunday's services done early - most of the time.

Why am I writing thus, asks one or another of my loyal readers? Well, the week started out slow as I related yesterday, but Friday's pace picked up considerably. I took the EKG. Turns out there's stuff there you don't want to hear about. So I have to go to another Doctor (a favorite pastime) to get some more checks (and write some more checks, no doubt). I need another stress EKG to clear me for surgery. This was determined Friday afternoon. There are no techs available to give me the test on Monday. Wednesday is the procedure at El Camino Hospital, and Tuesday is the day for "colon cleansing" with the magnesium citrate oral solution. So picture this, dear readers, a stress EKG whilst clensing one's colon - what fun in store!

Will I be cleared (in more ways than one)? Keep tuned in.

Slow Week at the Office

2009-04-23T10:07:00.001-07:00

This week seems to be dragging by. Maybe it's because of the bad start (losing at Bocce, again), or the schedule of doctor appointments. How many times can one be briefed on what's going to happen and how many forms can one sign that lets everybody out of any responsibility for most anything? The only one who seems to be left with any accountability is me. That accountability, of course, is to pay. And pay. And pay. Does anyone ever pay the first bill that comes in for a medical procedure? I hope not. I'm still getting bills for the things that were done to me last October. Double entered, computer glitch, wrong account numbers, it never seems to come to an end. I can see now why a friend quit his medical practice when the paperwork became more important than the patients.

Now here's an interesting thing to make the week more complex. They (the schedulers of all things medical) just called (between the words "important than" and "the patients") to cancel everything. All the surgery. All the post-ops. All the colon cleansing (yes!!!). All the sleepless nights (well, probably not). It seems that during my slow week participation in an EKG yesterday, I have heart stuff going on. Too bad for me. Good for the doctors, the sailboat store and the local Porsche mechanic.

I'm writing this "tongue in cheek" of course. I have every confidence in my Doctor's expertise. My urologist is a very nice guy, and his staff is most hospitable (is that a play on words?).

Whoops! They called again and everything is back on. Especially the sleepless nights.

Amnesty For Illegal Aliens - a good idea? !

2009-04-21T13:54:00.000-07:00

Obama Seeks Amnesty For Illegal Aliens
By Chuck Baldwin
April 21, 2009

This column is archived at
http://www.chuckbaldwinlive.com/c2009/cbarchive_20090421.html

One of the greatest disappointments expressed by former President George W.
Bush was his inability to provide amnesty for tens of millions of illegal
aliens. But as is so often the case, the departure of one Presidential
administration and the advent of another Presidential administration seldom
means great change, loquacious rhetoric by the current President
notwithstanding. The plan to provide amnesty for illegal aliens is a classic
case in point.

President Barack Obama is determined to succeed where G.W. Bush failed.
According to many published reports, he fully intends to grant amnesty to
tens of millions of illegal aliens. In fact, granting amnesty to illegal
aliens is on Obama's short list of priorities. That short list includes the
nationalization of America's financial systems, the nationalization of
America's healthcare and energy systems, expanding the wars in the Middle
East, strengthening and increasing global agreements and associations, gun
control (perhaps using international treaties where congressional
legislation has failed), and amnesty to illegal aliens.

Watch for Obama to make a full-court press for an amnesty proposal next
month. He has already appointed working groups to study strategies.
Administration sources have said Obama wants amnesty legislation on his desk
by this fall at the latest.

One way Obama is preparing the path for amnesty is contained in the massive
stimulus bill already passed by Congress and signed into law. According to
USA Today, "Tens of thousands of jobs created by the economic stimulus law
could end up filled by illegal immigrants, particularly in big states such
as California where undocumented workers are heavily represented in
construction, experts on both sides of the issue say.

"Studies by two conservative think tanks estimate immigrants in the United
States illegally could take 300,000 construction jobs, or 15% of the 2
million jobs that new taxpayer-financed projects are predicted to create."

What both Presidents Bush and Obama (and John McCain, too) refuse to
acknowledge is the devastating effects that illegal immigration inflicts
upon the overall health and safety of the people of United States. In strict
financial terms, the numbers are staggering.

According to research by Frosty Wooldridge, over $2 billion is spent on food
assistance programs such as food stamps, WIC, and free school lunches for
illegal aliens every year; $2.5 billion is spent on Medicaid for illegal
aliens every year; $12 billion is spent on primary and secondary school
education every year for children here illegally (and most cannot speak a
word of English); $17 billion a year is spent on education for so-called
"anchor babies"; and $90 billion a year is spent on illegal aliens for
welfare and social services. Add all of the various costs to U.S. taxpayers
for illegal aliens and the total is a whopping $338 billion each year.

See Wooldridge's research at

http://www.newswithviews.com:80/Wooldridge/frosty225.htm

In addition, according to Robert Rector, a scholar at the Heritage
Foundation, each illegal alien household will cost the American taxpayers
over $1 million dollars over a lifetime. This figure is derived from a
meticulous calculation of immediate services received versus any and all
taxes paid.

See Rector's report at

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2007/04/10/opinion/main2667167.shtml

Add to the financial costs of illegal immigration the cost of criminal
activity perpetrated by illegals, and an even grislier picture appears.

Over $4 million a DAY is spent to incarcerate illegal aliens; 29% of all
prison inmates are illegal aliens; 13 Americans are killed EVERY DAY by
drunk-driving illegal aliens; Latino gangs, such as MS-13 and the 18th
Street Gang, are now found in at least 37 states; and in New Mexico, nearly
half of jail and prison inmates are illegal aliens.

Additionally, FreeRepublic.com recently released FBI statistics showing that
95% of warrants for murder in Los Angeles during the First Quarter of 2006
were for illegal aliens. 83% of warrants for murder in Phoenix were for
illegal aliens. In Albuquerque the percentage was 86%. The Most Wanted lists
in those three cities found that 75% were illegal aliens. In the southern
Border States, illegal aliens perpetrated 53% of all investigated
burglaries. Plus, 71% of all apprehended stolen cars in Border States were
stolen by illegal aliens.

Furthermore, according to Congressman Steve King (R-Iowa), illegal aliens
murder 12 American citizens EVERY DAY. Put that murder statistic in
perspective: illegal aliens murder more Americans EVERY YEAR than the total
number of U.S. soldiers that have been killed in Iraq in over 5 years of
fighting.

See Congressman Steve King's report at

http://www.house.gov/apps/list/speech/ia05_king/sp_20060503_stats.html

In addition, according to Dr. Deborah Schurman-Kauflin of the Violent Crimes
Institute (VCI), "there are approximately 240,000 illegal immigrant sex
offenders in the United States. This translates to 93 sex offenders and 12
serial sexual offenders coming across U.S. borders illegally per day."
According to Dr. Schurman-Kauflin, illegals "averaged 4 victims per
offender. Nearly 63% had been deported on another offense prior to the sex
crime."

Dr. Schurman-Kauflin concludes her report saying, "Illegal immigrants who
commit sex crimes first cross the U.S. border illegally. Then they gradually
commit worse crimes and are continually released back into society or
deported. Those who were deported simply returned illegally again. Only 2%
of the offenders in this study has no history of criminal behavior, beyond
crossing the border illegally. There is a clear pattern of criminal
escalation. From misdemeanors such as assault or DUI, to drug offenses,
illegal immigrants who commit sex crimes break U.S. laws repeatedly. They
are highly mobile, work in low skilled jobs with their hands, use drugs and
alcohol, are generally promiscuous, have little family stability, and choose
victims who are easy to attack. Their attacks are particularly brutal, and
they use a hands-on method of controlling and/or killing their victims."

See Dr. Schurman-Kauflin's report at

http://www.drdsk.com/articles.html#Illegals

Mind you, this is only a small sampling of the carnage, both fiscally and
criminally, that illegal aliens inflict upon America. And yet, G.W. Bush,
John McCain, and Barack Obama still desire to provide amnesty and permanent
U.S. citizenship to illegal aliens. And unless the American people again
rise up to defeat these forthcoming amnesty proposals, that is exactly what
will happen.

*If you appreciate this column and want to help me distribute these
editorial opinions to an ever-growing audience, donations may now be made by
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(c) Chuck Baldwin

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The Heat Is On

2009-04-20T15:34:00.000-07:00

This morning it was eighty some-odd before nine AM. It's 97 on the deck right now. I'm not too sure that's accurate, but one thing is sure. It is warmish here on the Central California Coast! When the weather gets this way (and it often does) all you can do is wait for the sun to decline a bit and that heat goes right away and the cool sets in. Meanwhile watering and sweating are the things to do. I guess they are related somehow. We played Bocce again this morning and lost, again. Stupid game. I think my winter "beach bocce" really screwed up my "official court bocce". Is that believable? I'm sticking to it.

The "Santa Cruz Sentinel" published a listing of the County Employees' salary structures. It was the most downloaded data on their website. Ooops! It's gone. They took it off. That website is no longer available. It is not in our vast archives (all the way back to 4 April 2009?) Food for conspiratorial nuts such as my self.

But my efforts are not going unnoticed. I made another listing or watch notice. This time from the DHS. You can read it here…

http://washingtontimes.com/news/2009/apr/14/federal-agency-warns-of-radicals-on-right/

You can read it here also…

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/04/14/homeland-security-report_n_186834.html

What a great day!

What Makes Life Fun…

2009-04-15T16:41:00.000-07:00

On tax payment day, the hooplah in my house wasn't about that $$$$$ going North to the Department of the Treasury in San Francisco (I assume that somehow it will go east for further distribution), but the lying persona of those who will take their cut, and pass it on to others who will do the same until $$ gets to veterans and others for whom it was meant.

Lying? Harsh, Dave, sez you. An observation of the truth, sez me. Take for example the funnest thing around right now…

The White House is denying that the president bowed to King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia at a G-20 meeting in London, a scene that drew criticism on the right and praise from some Arab outlets.

“It wasn’t a bow. He grasped his hand with two hands, and he’s taller than King Abdullah,” said an Obama aide, who spoke on the condition of anonymity.

"The White House is denying", did you read that part? People can't make this stuff up folks. Truth is truly stranger than fiction. To deny that this is a picture of someone bowing is just silly. The fact that he bowed is not the important part. The fact that the government has to prepare a statement saying that your eyesight is failing is what's so sad.

Check out this URL:

http://www.americanthinker.com/blog/2009/04/obama_bows_down_to_saudi_king.html

Tell me what you see in the video.

How Did It Get To Be Tuesday?

2009-04-14T18:43:00.001-07:00

Well, I was going to try to include something here that might interest my extended family and all those who might stumble across this blog. I didn't do all that well. The first thing was that I got so excited over it being Easter, that I was stunned to realize that it was also my mom's one hundred, first, birthday! Yea! Cake and Champagne all around. Of course, Mom has been with the Lord since the early eighties, but there's a strange sense of peace to think of all that she (and my Dad) continue to mean to me. Weird, huh? Hey, I'm seventy something, looking at various operations this month on assorted protuberances (prognosis good, BTW) and yet I think of my folks almost everyday. What a blast. Will my kids think of me? I hope so. I know so.
It's funny how Easter meant something more to me this year than it has in years past. It could be that I'm still reading the Bible, cover to cover, and have slogged my way though the Pentateuch. Another funny thing happened when I read…

4 Then the LORD said to him, “This is the land of which I swore to give Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, saying, ‘I will give it to your descendants.’ I have caused you to see it with your eyes, but you shall not cross over there.”
5 ¶ So Moses the servant of the LORD died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the LORD.
6 And He buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, opposite Beth Peor; but no one knows his grave to this day.
7 Moses was one hundred and twenty years old when he died. His eyes were not dim nor his natural vigor diminished.
8 And the children of Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days. So the days of weeping and mourning for Moses ended.

From Deuteronomy 33

I cried, yeah, actually cried. You figure it out for yourself. It's important. It was life changing for me.
So any way, that said (one of my new favorite things to write), how 'bout that Obama man? I never though I'd be singing his praise, but I'm very glad for any part he may had had in authorizing the neutralization of the pirates in the waters off Somalia. Now if only he'd continue showing some grit towards all of the rest of the world. Oh sure, there'll be collateral damage, but if you believe that our cause is just it has to be done. Collateral damage is more important to those of us who have tasted combat than it is to those of you who might write about it, condemn us for it, or advocate dialogue with the PTBs. A great fear, but it cannot dissuade the warrior from his task. More tomorrow. Perhaps a reflection on my sending the government a check for my net worth, including a self addressed, stamped envelope for any change to be sent back.

I Can't Sleep Anymore…

2009-04-10T09:47:00.000-07:00

I promised myself that I'd wait the full one hundred days before I commented on the state of the union. It is going to be hard.
Things worth noting are piling up so fast that I probably will miss something and thence be evermore thought of as inept. Maybe I'm held in that esteem already.
When folks spend more time worrying about the new format of the "facebook" social networking site than they do about whether we bow low to a Christian/Jew hating king, there is something wrong. Maybe they have lost all hope and are resigned to having as many "friends" as they can get while the gettin' is good. The facebook site certainly promotes the superficial. I have to admit that I have an account. Won't you be my friend?
That said, won't you also consider a serious hour or two a week wherein you faithfully pursue some knowledge that will assure your eternal destiny? Less than two percent of your week's time, twenty minutes a day, will yield benefits that far outweigh a "drink" invitation or being "superpoked". If you're spending more time with facebook than you are in the Word of God, you need to re-evaluate your priorities. God is real. He will not be mocked. He loves you, but He's astounded that you don't know why.

Simply Amazing!

2008-12-23T10:04:00.000-08:00

It's astonishing to me how high profile ministers of the Gospel can associate themselves with people and movements which are in contradiction to what the Bible clearly teaches. The latest, Rick Warren, has agreed to perform an invocation at the upcoming presidential inauguration. I cannot criticize his theology, I cannot criticize his intent. I have never read one of his books. What I can comment on, and thus be critical of, is his joining himself together and giving tacit approval to a man who believes that the killing of one's unborn child can be justified, no matter what.
Pastor Warren is the darling of the media. He just wants us to get along. For him, there are no absolutes. Well Mr. Warren, there is a law, given by God, that clearly states that we shall not commit premeditated murder. Abortion is that. It is clear. There is no doubt, especially in the mind of God.

Enough Said!

2008-12-06T17:52:00.001-08:00

From Paul

2008-11-27T11:33:00.000-08:00

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."
Paul's Letter to the Philippian believers, chapter four, verses six and seven.

It could have been Cuban…

2008-11-24T15:26:00.000-08:00

The smell in the small room was not unpleasant because my dad smoked cigars on that rare occasion when someone would give him one for a child's birth or another celebration of some sort. I actually sort of liked the heavy odor and wondered what it would be like to smoke a stogie. Maybe sometime soon.

I can remember my dad in other bizarre ways too. The smell of bourbon and a dry-cleaned suit mixed together is something that reminds me of him. You probably think that's bad. Not so, my dad never abused any spirits, a cocktail was just part of the family routine before dinner was served. Funny how things cling to your brain after so many years.

The man behind the desk was a lot older than the salesman. Of course everybody looked older to me (they mostly were). You know sometimes I wish I had asked some of my teachers to tell me how old they were. I wonder now and there's no way to find out. Others have shared this dilemma with me and it is one of those mysteries that follows one around for life. I think I'm about forty-something in the blog picture, in case someone wonders. Anyway, hands were shook all around (even me) and we sat down. The man began to talk with Pop about the great new line-up of cars and how the costs had skyrocketed since so much improvement had been made. My father listened intently. I felt he should have been taking notes to help figure out what his new offer should be. How could anyone afford such technological superiority? After all of that, Dad said , "Here's the check for the car. It's all I have. Do you want to sell it?"

The sales manager read the check carefully and set it face down on the desk. "I can see that you're a man who knows his cars, Mr. Wilson. The only problem with this offer is that it is way below anything we could possibly take. It doesn't even cover our landing costs."

"Well it's the car I want, it's in the building, and that's what I'll give you"

"We can't do business, I'm sorry."

"OK, let's go Butch." That was the second time I had heard that. He continued, "That salesman said that this guy had the authority to sell the car."

"Now look, I've got to pay for the car and this building and commissions and service and delivery charges and there's no end to my expense. Surely, as a business man yourself, you can understand."

"I do, and I'm sorry. I also understand that you can cut your continuing losses on this car by getting rid of it. Out of inventory, off the insurance, get the spiffs from FMC, order another one. What do you want for it, anyway?"

The sales manager gave some price (I haven't any idea what he said), and my dad said, "You're kidding, I could get a Cadillac for a little more than that. Look, I'll add fifty bucks to this check, you can give it as commission to that young man out there, we'll take the car off your hands and you can rack up a sale. But that's as far as I can go. Really!"

"Why don't you and David wait here just a moment and I'll see if the general manager is in his office."

Twenty minutes went by. We were looking at all of the brochures and stuff that they had given us. They even brought in a couple of small Cokes and seemed very courteous. The man came back with another even older man in tow and hands were shook all around again. We all sat down and the oldest man began to use the crank adding machine. He had an official looking paper in his hand and he would carefully push certain keys, crank, push keys, crank, push, crank. The paper coming off the top was about six inches long. He must have found enough profit somewhere inside the machine because he turned to my Dad and said, "I think we're a lot closer than it seems. If you can afford just two hundred dollars more, you can drive her home".

Dad simply got up and we walked out the open door.

An Appropriate Sidetrack…

2008-11-23T19:05:00.000-08:00

Well, if it weren't for Henry and Kay nobody would have appeared in this picture. Therefore, it is appropriate to digress from our car buying narrative to present the Wilsons and a few Thompsons.

It is great to have everybody in one picture and most are looking good! I seem to be getting a little thick through the center, but that's probably because I am on the edge of the lens' optimal focus acuity. Or not.

Can a Forty-Two Year Old Man Drive This With Impunity?

2008-11-22T15:18:00.000-08:00

In my last entry, Pop had sent the salesman to the back of the showroom to check on some feature or detail that the Ford man couldn't answer directly. Having found out earlier that the exact car he had planned on was, in fact, in stock, and since my dad had also found out from somewhere else just exactly what that car was selling for (MSRP), he got out his check book and wrote a check for the offer. I never knew just how he figured how much to take off the asking price (now you figure about 84-87% is the dealer's cost). Anyway, when the fellow came back, dad handed him the check and said "I'll take the chartreuse convertible, with the tan top and black interior. This is what I'll pay you for it and I'll take the car home right now." The salesman never saw the net surround him. He staggers, twists, looks at the check amount and his face turns white. "You can't get this car for that price. No way, not today, not tomorrow!"

Immediately, Pop says to me, "Let's go Butch! They're not interested." We head for the front door. My dad's pace is hard to keep up with because he's nearly running for the door. The salesman, his fingers now touching because the check is gone, says nothing. Now before you think that we have been rude, I have to say that maybe my memory is not really accurate. Maybe dad said casually that he wants his check back, receives it, and then turns. I don't know because I'm as surprised as the salesman.

As the door begins to swing back closed after our exit, it's caught midway and the salesman says "Wait, Mr. Wilson!" Can't we talk about this? My dad says no and we continue across the sidewalk to our car, parked on Van Ness nearby. The salesman is soon accompanying us to the car and wondering what he could "do" to make this a happy day for everybody. Dad says simply, "Sell me the car!"

"I couldn't possibly do that, it's below our cost, no one buys for that these days."

"Well, I guess I thought you were in the car sales business"

"We want to see you in that car, but I just CAN'T do it that way!"

"OK" and dad opens the door on the driver's side of our car and I wait for him to unlock my side.

Somewhat pale, the salesman says "Can you wait a minute while I ask my boss?"

"I don't want to waste my time. There is another dealer down the peninsula and one in San Mateo who knows me. I thought you guys were competitive, I guess not. It's getting late and we have to get going."

"No wait. I think I heard that we had a deal going on this week end to help clear out a few cars. Let me check with the sales manager."

Dad closed his door, still standing in the street. I felt embarrassed at the loud conversation, but felt somehow that I wouldn't be going home in the same car we came in.

The salesman led us through the length of the showroom, up the stairs and down a hall. He knocked on the opaque glass door and opened it, asking whether whomsoever was inside had a moment. He did and we were ushered into an office with a huge desk and four chairs. The only thing on the desk was one of those crank operated adding machines and an ash tray.

How to make a grown man cry…

2008-11-21T17:03:00.000-08:00

The first time my dad ever let me go with him to buy a new car was in 1950. I was twelve. It must have been a rite of passage thing. It seems to me that it was the first time that he had ever considered taking me along on a serious trip to accomplish a very important task.

We didn't go to downtown San Mateo, oh no, we drove to San Francisco. Van Ness Avenue was "auto" row in those days and the buildings that the dealerships occupied were more like grand, multi-floored offices instead of the large, overcrowded lots we see today. There must have been someplace where the used cars were displayed. We never went there. All the salesmen were in suits, well fitted with sharp looking ties. They were all smoking, of course, gathered in the corner of the showroom probably doing rock, paper, scissors to see who got to talk to us (hah! a little salesman "ups" joke there). Did I mention that my dad was dressed up too, even though it was a Saturday. I had my best clothes on because we were in "the City". I'm trying to remember what the dealer's name was. Very famous and did a lot of advertising on the TV (when it came on around five in the afternoon, weekdays). The next "up" walked over to us and probably said something like, "they're really pretty THIS year and so much improved". My dad would be courteous and appear to be disinterested as if he had come in to wait out a rain shower or something. He would answer the salesman's initial words with something like "How could they have changed all that much in the last few years?" Of course the salesman would then take the bait and begin to explain all of the details about the new trim lines, colors, models and other "important" information. My dad already knew exactly what he was going to buy that afternoon. He also knew that if the car he wanted was in the building, it would be his in a few hours. I think he enjoyed "playing" the salesman like a trout in a shallow stream. The salesmen always thought that they were going to "catch" my dad. The truth of the matter is that he caught them.

After fifteen minutes or so of demonstrating Ford's new line of cars, the salesman began to think that no one could resist the urge to get whatever model came through the huge double doors in the back of the showroom. Pop would ask a more specific question which would make the salesman "go in the back" and find out. It could be about the model or a certain color availability, or even something like (gasp!), "do you have one ready to deliver today?"

Then Pop reached for the net.

A Partner for Life…

2008-11-21T13:05:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, when I get excited about a subject, I forget to bring to light all of the important aspects of a story. That's what I've inadvertently done in the past few entries.

My mom.

Kathryn Elizabeth ("Cat") would have been one hundred years of age this year too. Her birthday is the twelfth of April, 1908. As I have related in earlier posts, my parents were married when they were nineteen. They both worked for the F.W. Woolworth Company in various locations around Texas and then off to the West - Yuma Arizona. That's another entry. The point I'm trying to make here is that my mom liked cars too. She didn't participate in the purchasing ceremony, but she contributed with her support of whatever my Dad came home in, well, most of the time. She looked good in the front seat. She NEVER drove when my Dad was available. As I think about it, that's pretty much the way Jeanie and I operate to this day as well. I'll tell you about the car that received the least support soon.

About buying a car.

2008-11-20T10:49:00.001-08:00

In the light of what's happening in the automotive industry, I thought I'd explain over the next couple of days how my dad would buy a car. His method and his successful bartering skills are some of my fondest memories.
First of all, you have to understand that cars were an important part of my dad's life. The ritual of the "Sunday Drive" was real to me as I grew up, no matter where we lived. If someone visited, we all got into the car and drove them around town, or around the county or even around the state a bit, as time allowed. Our cars were generally no more than two years old. It was important that we had a new car every couple of years - "to keep up with changes". Looking back, it seems that we were neither a "GM" nor "Ford" family particularly. Why, I remember that the first car I ever drove was actually a Chrysler! A 1947 Chrysler New Yorker, four doors, of course and the prettiest dark blue you could imagine. It was always clean (I could have embraced that concept better) and it was always in the garage or in use on the road.
I'm happy to say that there were never any accidents, nor were there many speeding tickets issued or any pretentious motives associated with my dad's automotive choices. He chose cars on the basis of some decision he had made talking with friends, reading an advertisement or having seen that "perfect set of wheels" he had to have. These days, it seems like electronic stuff has replaced the automobile in my life. That is, as far as getting new models of things goes. I've had one car for nearly forty four years and our other car is a '99 model. I have somehow come to embrace the "axis powers" - one German and the other Japanese.
I digress. Tomorrow I'll get back on the subject of actually how to buy a brand new car, the Henry Wilson way.
Happy Birthday Pop, we all miss you!

A Very Special Day!

2008-11-20T00:01:00.000-08:00

Today is my dad's one hundredth birthday. I cannot begin to tell the story of how much he means to me. How many times did I disappoint him? How many time did I make him happy? Hopefully, over the next few days, I'll be able to share with you (whomsoevers) the joy I feel in having a father like Henry Ramsey Wilson. As many as can be gathered are eating at the local Cambodian joint in Scotts Valley tonight. He would have liked the beef kabob and jasmine rice. A small amount of scotch could be served as well.
It's funny, but it looks like Braden Ramsey Wilson is riding on my dad's shoulders back in 1940. It's probably me, not him.

The Election

2008-11-06T16:13:00.000-08:00

A lot of folks woke up excited Wednesday morning. Some were excited about winning, others about losing. I woke up knowing that no matter which of the mainstream presidential candidates had been allowed to win, I was a winner.

I voted for Chuck Baldwin. So did Jeanie (or so she says). Who is that? Sez you (click on the title of this installment). He's a good man among men and I share convictions with him about how these United States ought to, by law, be run. What makes me a winner is that there are several hundred thousand others who share the same dream. There are several of us "whackos" who live in the County of Santa Cruz. Upon chance meetings, we honk and wave and take energy from the encounter.

There are other "whackos" who honk and wave and somehow refer to themselves as being number one by elevating their middle finger in salute. Friendly.

One person had the audacity to declare to Jeanie that they were glad she "wasted" her vote. Wasted her vote.

Jeanie voted her belief that the word marriage means a covenant before God entered into by a man and a woman. A covenant designed to give the ultimate in satisfaction and comfort, companionship and sexual expression, procreation and nurture. It is something that God has ordained and blesses as people seek His guidance.

Jeanie voted her conviction that children ought not to be allowed to have abortions without informing parents. Children having abortions, sounds funny doesn't it? That's what is happening in our sex-crazed, television driven society. Parents divorced or both working, allowing "People" magazine or worse, to set the moral standard in the home. Actually, this is according to plan (more about that at a later date). Pastors have abrogated their responsibility to inform their congregations that abortion is murder. Premeditated at that. They have been frightened by men. They should be frightened of God.

Jeanie and I voted our convictions. We voted according to our world view. We have not made a pack with the devil and we are not responsible for what will happen in these United States in the next few years.

In 2012, should the Lord tarry, there will be a million more people who will have learned to vote their God-given convictions. There will be candidates who might even be allowed to talk about the issues. There will be churches whose leadership is not emasculated by the IRS.

It takes time.

Oh, President elect Obama has used his time like we thought he would. Here's a short news item from today's AP…

"CHICAGO – Barack Obama is signaling a shift in tactics and temperament as he moves from candidate to president-elect, picking sharp-elbowed Washington insiders for top posts. His choice Thursday for White House chief of staff — Rahm Emanuel, a fiery partisan who doesn't mind breaking glass and hurting feelings — is a significant departure from the soft-spoken, low-key aides that "No-Drama Obama" surrounded himself with during his campaign. And transition chief John Podesta, like Emanuel, is a former top aide to Bill Clinton and a tough partisan infighter, though less bombastic than the new chief of staff.
The selections are telling for Obama, who campaigned as a nontraditional, almost "post-partisan" newcomer…"

Remember the Little Red Hen?

2008-11-03T11:38:00.000-08:00

I suspect that when the story started she wasn't "a red hen" but the more the time passed, the more she became truly "red". Anyway, the story goes something like this.

She called all of her neighbors together and said, 'If we plant this wheat, we shall have bread to eat. Who will help me plant it?'

'Not I,' said the cow.
'Not I,' said the duck.
'Not I,' said the pig.
'Not I,' said the goose.
'Then I will do it by myself,' said the little red hen, and so she did. The wheat grew very tall and ripened into golden grain.
'Who will help me reap my wheat?' asked the little red hen.
'Not I,' said the duck..
'Out of my classification,' said the pig.
'I'd lose my seniority,' said the cow.
'I'd lose my unemployment compensation,' said the goose.
'Then I will do it by myself,' said the little red hen, and so she did.
At last it came time to bake the bread.
'Who will help me bake the bread?' asked the little red hen.
'That would be overtime for me,' said the cow.
'I'd lose my welfare benefits,' said the duck.
'I'm a dropout and never learned how,' said the pig.
'If I'm to be the only helper, that's discrimination,' said the goose.
'Then I will do it by myself,' said the little red hen.
She baked five loaves and held them up for all of her neighbors to see. They wanted some and, in fact, demanded a share. But the little red hen said, 'No, I shall eat all five loaves.'
'Excess profits!' cried the cow.
'Capitalist leech!' screamed the duck.
'I demand equal rights!' yelled the goose.
The pig just grunted in disdain.
And they all painted 'Unfair!' picket signs and marched around and around the little red hen, shouting obscenities.
Then the farmer came. He said to the little red hen, 'You must not be so greedy.'
'But I earned the bread,' said the little red hen.
'Exactly,' said the farmer. 'That is what makes our free enterprise system so wonderful. Anyone in the barnyard can earn as much as he wants. But under our modern government regulations, the productive workers must divide the fruits of their labor with those who are lazy and idle.'
And they all lived happily ever after, including the little red hen who smiled and clucked, 'I am grateful, for now I truly understand.'
But her neighbors became quite disappointed in her. She never again baked bread because she joined the 'party' and got her bread free. And all the Democrats smiled. 'Fairness' had been established.
Individual initiative had died, but nobody noticed; perhaps no one cared...so long as there was free bread that 'the rich' were paying for.

But the rich had other plans. They created off-shore accounts and held their assets away from the probing eyes of the IRS. The bread continued to decline in quality and quantity. Some even say that it began to taste like sawdust. Some patriots began to plant wheat again and sell it on the black market. The hen called the farmer and gave away the locations of the markets and their times of doing business. When the national police arrived to confiscate the wheat, they were taken by its quality and decided to join the resistance. The bread was sweet to the taste. It was especially good with Chicken Cacciatore.

What We Need NOW!

2008-11-02T10:59:00.000-08:00

"Obey God and leave all the consequences to Him". This is one of Dr. Charles Stanley's "life principles". It is a principle that we have forgotten as a nation and in many cases, as individuals.

As election day draws close, we find ourselves talking about two candidates, both having compromised their stated convictions. Each man is willing to forsake his standing before God to pander to the demands of popular opinion. Their motivation is pure lust, lust for power.

First, Senator McCain would give amnesty to illegal immigrants. These lawbreakers would be given a fast-track to citizenship. These people, no matter where they are from, have no desire to serve or sacrifice for this country. They would be citizens in name only. They would be living in a country which, in their mind, only serves to underwrite the expense of their existence. This is a slap in the face of natural-born citizens who have given their time, fortune and blood to defend the Constitution of these United States. It is perhaps even more offending to those millions who have obeyed the laws and completed the procedure which has led them to citizenship.

Senator Obama will stand before God some day and be asked why he supported the murderous agenda of the abortionists. He has set at naught the lives of the 40,000,000 children killed in the name of "freedom of choice". Freedom from the consequences of ungodly, immoral licentiousness.

We need leaders who live by the convictions they proclaim. They will take an oath of office and swear before almighty God to defend and preserve the laws of this Nation. Dr. Stanley's website offers this wisdom:

"Your convictions define who you are. They guide your decisions and determine your character. People who live by their convictions are not swayed by their personal preferences or popular opinions."

Convictions are beliefs we hold to be true, no matter what. In today's world we need to base our standards upon the tested and proven tenets of Biblical truth. Please consider going to www.intouch.org (a link is provided at the top of this page) and watch the sermon entitled "The Convictions We Live By". At the very least avail yourself of the free "Life Principles Notes" on the same site.

We need to change the direction of this Nation. God will not be mocked.

Why the Constitution Party of California?

2008-10-22T09:48:00.000-07:00

Some say that your vote is wasted when you don't vote for a traditional mainline political party. This is nonsense!
A wasted vote is a vote for someone you know does not represent your own beliefs and principles. A wasted vote is a vote for someone you know will not lead the country in the way it should go. A wasted vote is a vote for the "lesser of two evils."
Voting for either man running in this presidential election is demonstrating your desire to maintain the status quo. There is little difference between the two candidates. Both will continue to increase the size of the government, freely spending your money with no accountability; both will continue to ignore their oath before God to protect and defend the Constitution of these United States; both will seek ties with foreign governments, eventually and surely diluting our sovereignty; neither will protect our borders nor will either man defend the lives of the unborn.
You truly waste your vote when you cast it for global pantheistic socialism - either Obama or McCain.

Therefore, don't waste your vote, make it count by voting for a candidate that advocates true change, not more of the same.
America and California need the leadership of the Constitution Party of California.
They pledge to:
Stop undeclared wars which are daily costing American lives and billions of tax dollars;
Stop reckless spending, including foreign aid, and take care of America’s domestic needs;
End debt financing of both Federal and State governments;
Terminate the Federal income tax, and restore a tariff based revenue system;
Immediately end international trade agreements such as NAFTA, WTO, and the proposed FTAA
Totally and Completely Secure Our Nations Borders
Defend America’s moral values; keep God in the pledge of allegiance and on our nation's coinage.
Fully protect the right to life of the innocent unborn;
Support high standards in education, including school vouchers, private schools and home schooling;
Encourage revitalized domestic oil production and nuclear power generation.
Defend Second Amendment rights;
Restore a Constitutional, asset based, money system;
Uphold traditional marriage and family values.

Investigate the candidacy of Chuck Baldwin for President of these United States. You can do that at
http://www.baldwin08.com/

I can't stand it anymore!

2008-10-21T16:32:00.000-07:00

It has been nearly three weeks since I posted anything here on the blog. I've had many reasons for ignoring my desires to tell the world what I think (a sign of wisdom, probably). But now I can't stop myself.

The time for registering to vote has passed. If you did not register, and you're eligible, you're an idiot. Sorry, sometimes it needs to be said.

Planning to vote for either Obama or McCain? You are ill-informed and possibly lazy to boot. There is plenty of documentation which would disqualify either man from being considered for the most powerful job in the world. Both candidates will continue the progressive policies which have been followed for the past half-century or more and energize our march toward becoming a third-world nation. Adequate evidence exists, demonstrating that they are both cut from the same kind of cloth. One is fancy, one is rugged, both are bought.

If you think the banking business is bad, wait until you see what will be unleashed by this new administration (either one). Simply put, the purpose of the election is to give the American public brief respite from their fall line-up stars and convince them that they are running the country. In reality, it's all about who gets to receive the taxpayer's dollars and control the distribution thereof. Simple as that. Follow the money, follow the power. If you think any different, you can join the ranks of those who, though qualified, didn't register to vote. The solution? Tomorrow.

Today in History - Part Two

2008-09-30T10:00:00.000-07:00

Exciting things happen in September! Appeasement gives courage to the Nazis to start World War Two; I was born to Henry and Kathryn in Klamath Falls Oregon; my Porsche was released for sale by the factory. More important and most wonderful of all is of course, the birth of my first-born, Christopher Alan. What a birthday present Jeanie presented me with!

My parents had come to visit for the grand occasion. My mom was determined that Chris would be born on this day. She and Jeanie walked all over Victorville California that morning. I spent some time instructing in the Phantom and pulling a shift in mobile control. Chris came right in the middle of "happy hour" - 5:38 PM (1738 for you military folks). I recall the bill for several days' billeting at the hospital (including rations allowance) was about eight dollars. Here are pictures of my dad holding me and my dad holding Chris. Happy Birthday Chris, and many more!

Today in History - Part One

2008-09-30T00:01:00.000-07:00

Some interesting things happened on this day. First of all, it was clearly demonstrated that appeasers are naive at best and just plain stupid or despicably treacherous. This is a picture of one famous appeaser. And this is the story that goes with it.
Neville Chamberlain is holding the paper containing the resolution to commit to peaceful methods signed by both Hitler and himself on his return from Munich. He is showing the piece of paper to a crowd at Heston Aerodrome on 30 September 1938. He said:
"...the settlement of the Czechoslovakian problem, which has now been achieved is, in my view, only the prelude to a larger settlement in which all Europe may find peace. This morning I had another talk with the German Chancellor, Herr Hitler, and here is the paper which bears his name upon it as well as mine (waves paper to the crowd - receiving loud cheers and "Hear Hears"). Some of you, perhaps, have already heard what it contains but I would just like to read it to you ...".

Later that day he stood outside Number 10 Downing Street and again read from the document and concluded:
'"My good friends, for the second time in our history, a British Prime Minister has returned from Germany bringing peace with honour. I believe it is peace for our time."

I can picture Senator Obama saying those same words as he returns from negotiating with the leaders of the Islamic horde. They will promise him anything, but they will deliver only death to those who do not believe in their false god.

So this day is an important one to burn into your memory. I have. Remember what appeasers achieve. But of course, it's easy for me to remember. I was born on 30 September 1938.

Extreme Porsche History

2008-09-29T12:19:00.001-07:00

The Porsche that sits in the garage at my house was finally checked over and prepared for release to the motoring public on this 29th of September, back in 1963. It was assigned to delivery on the next day. I bought it on 14 May 1964, in Greenwich Connecticut and drove it to Victorville California. On that long solo trip across these United States, I was stopped three times. Not for speeding (although I probably was) but for the simple pleasure of showing the car to the various Highway Patrolmen who had never seen such a thing before.

I don't drive the car enough and it is unhappy. It always starts though. You just have to pump the gas pedal thirty times or so to prime the carbs. There's a little rust here and there, but it is generally sound. It's strange to compare it to the cars of today. This Porsche is made of metal. There's some bakelite, but no plastic. There's a wooden floor, but no exotic metals. There's a wonderful smell about it - gas and age - and the memories related to every assembled piece are priceless.

Breaking News! A New Rooster in the Coop!

2008-09-24T09:20:00.000-07:00

Texas ten term Congressman and former Republican presidential candidate, Dr. Ron Paul, has announced his support for the Constitution Party's candidate, Chuck Baldwin. As reported in "World Net Daily" (see URL at right of this column), he was swayed to make the endorsement by former Republican Bob Barr, who is now running for president on the Libertarian Party's ticket, the same party which nominated Paul for president in 1988.

Paul's announcement also contained some scathing words for Republicans, Democrats and an election system that he perceives as "a gross deception."

"(The election process) is controlled by the powerful elite to make sure that neither candidate of the two major parties will challenge the status quo," Paul wrote. "There is no real choice between the two major parties and their nominees, only the rhetoric varies. The amazingly long campaign is designed to make sure the real issues are ignored."

Paul's endorsement, which comes at the end of his announcement is foreshadowed by his earlier words, trumpeting the call to unity among various groups seeking to overcome the two-party status quo.

"Principled people are not shy in participating with others and will defend their beliefs on their merits," he wrote.

This is Dave again. In my opinion, Dr. Paul's endorsement will give added importance to the Constitution Party's call for a return to the things which have made this country great - Rule of Law, not just lip service but real enforcement, and the recognition of our Country's Christian heritage. No, I have not said that we must become a Christian Nation! We must understand, however, that our strength has always come from our understanding and implementation of the Judeo-Christian World View. Biblical values, including the sanctity of life and swift and sure justice for all need to be restored.

It is my prayer that this important endorsement will allow Chuck Baldwin to demand equal exposure in the national and international media. This is a great start to what may become a realization of the fact of a third party's viability in this land where socialist party "D" and socialist party "R" have ruled the roost for so long.

Upon an Heptad of Decades, Part One

2008-09-23T18:35:00.000-07:00

This is the first post that will bring to all the notification of my celebration of an heptad of decades. Sorry, you can't be the first to say, "You made it this far?"

The DMV of the good state of California greeted me earlier and announced my soon failure to be able to function (not unlike the FAA did ten years ago, when suddenly I couldn't fly safely anymore). But I fooled 'em all by passing the test and getting a new California drivers license (is there an apostrophe in driver's ?). After simply ignoring the illegals about the DMV office crying for my receipt, I drove home with impunity, demonstrating my newly certificated on-road expertise.

The only bad thing about this approaching natal day is God's strong warning,

Ps 90:10 The days of our lives are seventy years; And if by reason of strength they are eighty years, Yet their boast is only labor and sorrow; For it is soon cut off, and we fly away.

Oh dear, but do you know the song, "We'll Fly Away"? Check it out here. My favorite. You'll have to cut and paste.

http://my.homewithgod.com/heavenlymidis2/flyaway.html

Thanks for being here, check in again soon.

The Days After "Constitution Day"

2008-09-18T15:40:00.000-07:00

The past few days have been a disappointment to me. Oh sure, the economy tanked, but that's not it.

Obama's fervent support doesn't care about what he says or does as long as he's called "Democrat". He has said this about the Constitution in his popular 2006 book, "The Audacity of Hope", he writes, “I have to side with Justice Breyer’s view of the Constitution, that it is not a static, but rather a living document and must be read in the context of an ever-changing world.” In other words, the United States Constitution is a “living document” that Obama would like to twist and change.

And, John McCain's folks have set at naught his wartime abrogating his sworn responsibility to the Constitution. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt here, but it needs to be discussed. Furthermore, had John McCain and his fellow Republicans truly wanted to end legal abortion, they could have passed Congressman Ron Paul's Sanctity of Life Act. Year after year, Dr. Paul introduced this bill, and year after year, it sat and collected dust in the document room on Capitol Hill.

My friend Alan Caruba (http://factsnotfantasy.blogspot.com/) says, (I've posted this before)

"The nation’s capital is all about politics. It’s a company town and everyone who lives or works there knows that “issues” may energize those who follow events from afar, but it is taxation and the redistribution of money that is the real business of Congress. Who gets to do that is the reason the two parties square off against one another."

This is what we see today. The media won't hear of a third party candidate. And thus, we won't either. You can find out something about a true patriot at http://www.baldwin08.com/ .

Thanks for your time.

It's Time to Register!

2008-09-12T15:14:00.001-07:00

If you are not registered to vote, you need to get busy! I have added a site (to the right of this post, under my picture) which will direct your efforts in this matter and there is no more excuse for not being ready to take action this coming November.

I am writing this because of an email I received from Gary Bauer (www.ouramericanvalues.org).

There, he quoted President James Garfield (President Garfield's picture is above left, little resemblance to Gary Bauer). Our twentieth president put the importance of voting plainly when he wrote in 1877:
“Now, more than ever before, the people are responsible for the character of their Congress. If that body be ignorant, reckless, and corrupt, it is because the people tolerate ignorance, recklessness, and corruption. If it be intelligent, brave, and pure, it is because the people demand these high qualities to represent them in the national legislature. . . . [I]f the next centennial does not find us a great nation . . . it will be because those who represent the enterprise, the culture, and the morality of the nation do not aid in controlling the political forums.”

There are no better words to express the responsibility of our citizenry as we face the upcoming election. My friends, while we are 53 days away from the November 4th election, we are just 24 days away from the deadline to register to vote, which is October 6th in most states. Please take a few moments to make sure you and all your like-minded friends and family members are registered to vote

Another Candidate…

2008-09-08T18:00:00.000-07:00

Earlier today, I was talking with my son who lives up North. He seemed to think that I was making a hard case against Senator McCain's and Governor Palin's candidacy for the executive offices of these United States. Well maybe I am. I am one of those "issues" guys and think we ought to judge our elected folks by what they do, not what they say.

Anyway, in the interest of fairness, here's some stuff about another candidate. Oh, but first some facts about Planned Parenthood.

The Planned Parenthood Federation of America (PPFA) is the largest abortion provider in the United States, with some 850 clinics across the country. PPFA purports to offer “a wide range of medical and counseling services and health care education,” but its primary business is providing abortion services. In the 2003-2004 fiscal year, the organization increased the number of abortions performed at its facilities by 6.1 percent (over the previous year’s total) to 244,628. At an average cost of $400 per abortion, it is estimated that PPFA took in $104 million from surgical abortions in 2003-2004 -- accounting for 34 percent of its $302.6 million clinic income that year.

In 2004 Planned Parenthood completed 138 abortions for every adoption referral it made to an outside agency. During the 2004-2005 fiscal year, PPFA reported 1,414 adoption referrals (one adoption for every 180 abortions). During its 2005-2006 fiscal year, the organization performed a record 264,943 abortions; garnered $345.1 million in clinic income; took in $212.2 million in donations; and received record taxpayer funding of $305.3 million. Total income reached a record $902.8 million.

Here's what Senator Barack Obama says about the organization.

“Now the good news is that there has been a decline in the teen birth rate, in part due to the outstanding work of Planned Parenthood"

Oh, did I mention, my son, you know, the one who lives in Washington State? He's adopted.

Barack would rather see him dead.

Ghosts

2008-09-06T15:42:00.000-07:00

I love the picture of President Eisenhower and his VEEP of choice, Dick Nixon. It's a few blogs down. It's almost as if they're laughing from their graves. Two insiders, deeply entrenched, in "the know" and ready to perform.
What fun politics is. We have been given the greatest show on earth. We laugh, we cry, we throw things at the TV (carefully). When we lose, we weep and sob, throw dust into the air. When we win, we weep for joy and send emails of condolance.
Then we all get a new six pack and refresh the batteries in the remote and get back to the late fall line-up.
What happened with the 1994 Republican Contract With America? Not much. What happened to unwanted babies with a Bush presidency and a Republican house and Senate? They died.

The Bible says,
Ec 1:9 That which has been is what will be, That which is done is what will be done, And there is nothing new under the sun.

My friend Alan Caruba (http://factsnotfantasy.blogspot.com/) says,

"The nation’s capital is all about politics. It’s a company town and everyone who lives or works there knows that “issues” may energize those who follow events from afar, but it is taxation and the redistribution of money that is the real business of Congress. Who gets to do that is the reason the two parties square off against one another."

Senator McCain

2008-09-05T10:00:00.000-07:00

Last night, Senator John McCain accepted his party's nomination for President of these United States. His speech was well written (by himself and others, I understand). It was delivered in McCain's style (no Sarah Palin there). He made the promises so correctly missing from his running mate's speech the night before.

I have tried to understand what he wants to do. This brief excerpt helps me understand that he is thinking correctly, albeit, unconstitutionally. He said,

"Education is the civil rights issue of this century. Equal access to public education has been gained. But what is the value of access to a failing school? We need to shake up failed school bureaucracies with competition, empower parents with choice, remove barriers to qualified instructors, attract and reward good teachers, and help bad teachers find another line of work.

When a public school fails to meet its obligations to students, parents deserve a choice in the education of their children. And I intend to give it to them. Some may choose a better public school. Some may choose a private one. Many will choose a charter school. But they will have that choice, and their children will have that opportunity.

Sen. Obama wants our schools to answer to unions and entrenched bureaucracies. I want schools to answer to parents and students. And when I'm president, they will."

He neglects to mention home schooling. He wants the "teacher's union" (an oxymoron) to support him (unlikely) so he fails to encourage the one method that has saved education in this country for several years now.

There are many other great promises to be kept. The entire recitation can be found at

http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0908/13179.html

I hope that you will go to that site and copy the entire speech to your word processor. Email it to yourself and file it in your "to do" box. If he gets elected, let's all make it a point to check off the items he has promised us as they are accomplished. I hope that we are very busy checking and checking.

August Memories…

2008-09-04T08:57:00.000-07:00

Okay, I KNOW it's September already, but give me some editorial freedom here.
I couldn't help but have the same feelings last night as I watched Gov. Palin deliver her acceptance speech as I did back in late August of 1956 when I watched President Eisenhower deliver his speech at the Cow Palace in San Francisco.
I was a recent high school graduate, ready to tackle the world. A delegate, a "Young Republican" from San Mateo, to the Republican National Convention in San Francisco. What could be better? The sense of awe, the giddy wonder at the going's on. For three or four days my friend Jerry and I drove the twenty miles or so to South San Francisco and did what most anybody older than us told us to. We handed out signs, we got coffee, we generally made ourselves useful.
Then the time came for the appearance of President Eisenhower. The whole place was alive with the chant of "We like Ike!" Thousands of balloons were dropped, he came in with Mamie at his side, and delivered his address. Afterwards Dick and Pat Nixon joined them on the dais. Everyone was yelling, clapping and cheering for these heros of the hour.
Last night in Minnesota, the same thing occurred. I suspect that it will repeat itself tonight when John McCain makes his acceptance speech. Americans love a good convention. The party is buoyed up at these things and great energy is infused in all who watch or attend.
If you are an astute political observer, you expect great promises to be made. Usually the moon is mentioned as easily obtainable. World peace and justice for all is assumed. Last night's speech - nothing, no promises! Great. What we saw was a strong, confident "soccer mom" defend her lifestyle. She demonstrated that she is a real person. A woman who knows how to handle herself in stressful situations and she's not afraid to attack the PTB. I hope this is correct. It seems so. I am very happy about her candidacy and I wish her and Senator John McCain well.
It will be interesting in the next several weeks to see how "organizing a community" will become more important somehow, than being the governor of the great state of Alaska.

Listen to George…

2008-08-31T14:56:00.000-07:00

"Let me now take a more comprehensive view, and warn you in the most solemn manner against the baneful effects of the Spirit of Party generally. . . . A fire not to be quenched, it demands a uniform vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest, instead of warming, it should consume."
George Washington
1796 - Farewell Address
Reference: George Washington: A Collection, W.B. Allen, ed. (519-20)

"bane" noun [usu. in sing. ] (baneful)
a cause of great distress or annoyance• archaic, something, typically poison, that causes death.

Today, people are literally fighting to see that their party's candidate gets elected in November. No mention of qualification, issues, world views, loyalties or biases.

VOTE DEMOCRAT! WIN!

VOTE REPUBLICAN! WIN!

That's the only thing that's important. Both organizations are run by the same people and we have been allowed the perception of change every four years to assuage our fear of losing control.

Ron Paul got it right when he said,

"Since the change of the political party in charge has not made a difference, who’s really in charge? If the particular party in power makes little difference, whose policy is it that permits expanded government programs, increased spending, huge deficits, nation building and the pervasive invasion of our privacy, with fewer Fourth Amendment protections than ever before?"

Something to think about.

Gov. Sarah Palin

2008-08-29T17:53:00.000-07:00

Gov. Sarah Palin. I have been talking about her since June. Well, not to you.

Actually, I'm still enamored of Chuck Baldwin, but I'm moving towards the "get rid of the socialist movement" which might have a toe-hold in this VP candidate. Maybe not.

Oh, how wonderful it was to see Ophra on TV again (I don't watch at 4PM for personal reasons). She was so insightful as she described her tearful response to the encapsulated socialist line.

Will I get into trouble with this entry? I hope so.

Please check out Chuck Baldwin. A simple favor to me and your country.

http://www.baldwin08.com/

Thanks for your time.

"Hen" and "Kat"

2008-08-28T16:38:00.000-07:00

In my mom's "Memory Book" the first page dates the work - September 12, 1926. There are about one hundred pictures glued on to the thick, black sheets. Most of them have some initials penned nearby, some a name, but most are unclaimed. Too bad, for me. The ones that have a name that's understandable give me hope that I can find out something about my mom's side of the family. There's Fields, her maiden name, and Bechtold, her mother's maiden name and the family name of some folks identified as cousins, "remember me as your true cousin" writes Viola Bechtold. Others say that too, "remember me as your true cousin". I wonder why they said that? There's Mary and J.C., Bettie, Jewel, Velma and Ernestine. Oh, and Henry - "always remember me as I was while in your town - always. Henry "Hen"". These pictures are of my mom and dad when they were about eighteen years of age. Living the good life (what a tie!). Having fun with friends and writing casual messages that would come to be oh, so true.

Cooking Tips - Something good!

2008-08-27T19:36:00.000-07:00

OK, I said I'd get something here everyday, and I'm trying. Here's a recipe. Oh look, you say, He's just trying to fill the void of good stuff with a silly recipe for something anybody can get in a can or bag at Trader José (I am in California, after all).

No, a thousand times NO!! I have been contemplating releasing this method for hash browns for the last three weeks. Now, I have to say up front that it is not my recipe. It comes from an edition of "Sunset" this past year sometime, and they got it from someone who wrote in to reveal it as their favorite thing. Well no wonder! Who doesn't like hash browns? Who doesn't love grating potatoes and onions and frying them in huge quantities of oil? Who doesn't like cleaning up the stove and cutting the splatter with a tablespoon of Mr. Clean? Who? I say.

Well no more. We have been freed from the misery of hash brown remorse. Here's how it goes.

OK, at the grocery store, be sure that you get a small onion, some garlic and a five ounce bag of "salt and pepper, krinkle cut potato chips". Work with me here and don't laugh too soon.

Cut the onion up into a bunch of pieces (I never counted) I think they say "chopped". And get the garlic in the same condition, only finer. Put a little oil in a cold frypan and the onion and garlic. Start the heat. Bring the temperature up and cook the mixture 'til they are translucent. In the meantime, cut the top off of the potato chips (so the bag won't make a hard pillow), and crush the chips with your hand or if you are a "gourmet cook" use your stainless meat pounder. Leave a few pieces about an inch square so people can know where the potatoes came from. After the onions and garlic are done, pour all of the crushed potato chips into the frypan and stir them around for about five minutes or so, let them get good and hot. Have a cup of water and a tight fitting lid for the pan somewhere within reach. When the potato chip, onion and garlic mixture is hot, pour the water into the pan and slam the lid on tight. Set a timer for about six minutes. Turn the heat down to medium. Wait, don't peek.

You can peek briefly, if you want to, to put four eggs in little depressions you have made in the mixture before you put the water in. Do this at about three minutes. If you like really hard eggs, put them in just before you pour in the water. They'll be hard as Easter eggs. Three minutes is better.

After the six minutes is up, take off the lid and crisp up the "magic hash browns" to your liking. We put graded cheddar cheese on them while they are crisping up. It's good.

OK, so they're not like those "browns" you get at one of those places you see on "Diners, Drive-ins and Dives" on the food network. But who wants to come in a five AM, boil new potatoes 'til half done, squish them out on the hot plate (do you have a 4x5' stainless steel slab in your kitchen? Can we see it?). Well, you get the idea. Try it, you'll like it. They ARE NOT SALTY, but they don't need anymore salt. The chips are seasoned just about right.

Crab from the Monterey Bay would be better.