So, here it is…Monday…and the weekend is over. They go by so quick. I actually had a four day weekend this time around. Did some special paperwork on Thursday, had a special Mall day with Izzy on Friday, did more paperwork on Saturday, and Church on Sunday.
But right now it’s Saturday…actually, the above paragraph was written on Friday night and then I fell asleep over the keyboard and Izzy Dragon made me put it away and go to bed, so NOW it’s Saturday morning…
It’s Saturday morning and the whole weekend is still ahead of me and while you’re reading this the whole weekend is behind you. What an odd perspective.
I just got a really great comment from John M. who … well, let me copy it here so we can all share it. And let me say up front, thanks John. You can see, right at the top that it’s just a couple of minutes old so, I’m shooting from the hip here. But, it strikes a nerve in some of the things that I’ve seen over the last couple of days both on the news (I REALLY need to stop watching the news) and in real life. So, here it is:
You are TOO right about discipline.
Which leads to no manners.
Which leads to no respect (even for themselves).
Which leads to the problems we have today.
And not only in the cities, where it is more obvious and prevalent.
Also in rural areas.
And shown by people “rollin smoke” at Prius and other electric cars.
And a lot of today’s problems (just heard about the homeless encampments) can be traced back to Ronald Reagan’s policies. Before that, people with mental problems were better taken care of.
And, unfortunately, mental problems afflict a lot of our veterans. Look at the veteran suicide (also active duty) suicide rate.
I am reminded of a guy I knew. He was a veteran and not a good guy. He had been in the Army in Viet Nam in the 1960s. In the 1990s, he was made assistant manager of a convenience store. He said it was the best job he had ever had. I knew that he had problems from his service, but that showed like nothing else had done.
I used to know a lot of Viet Nam vets. Many of them are dead now. Almost all of them had some sort of mental issues (some coped well, but still had the issues). I often wondered how much worse their problems were made by the treatment they received when the got home (“baby killer” comes to mind).
One had a cap that pointed out the difference rather plainly. It said “I’m no Desert Storm hero, just an old Viet Nam vet”.
No further comment needed.
Surely this will stir up some comments.
And remember, I live near Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, that did basic training for a LOT of guys that went to Viet Nam. And many that were stationed there afterwards if they stayed in.
And thank you for your posts.
I don’t agree with a lot of what you say, but I agree with a lot.
Mostly, I think I like the way that you present it.
Discipline and respect go hand-in-hand. It started to degrade a long time ago. It was the father’s responsibility to keep the family on the straight and narrow. Teach the family biblical instruction, to be the leader of the family.
Then fathers abandoned ship. So many homes without fathers. Or with fathers who were there, but who weren’t THERE – if you catch my drift. No leadership. Boys growing up to be men who don’t know how to be men, perpetuate the problem and it just grows.
They don’t know how to instill manhood and leadership in their own sons, even if they want to, because there was no one around to teach them. (One of the reasons the Church is so important, but people aren’t going to church and the churches aren’t doing their jobs, either)
Now years down the road, throw in an administration that thinks it’s perfectly fine to allow teachers to help girls to become boys and boys to become girls and NOT TELL THE PARENTS. That it’s perfectly okay to force a transgender agenda down our throats, that our children are too young to drink, to smoke, to vote, to carry a gun to war, to drive, to vape, to do a myriad of other things, but they are old enough to decide to mutilate their sexual organs without parental consent or even parental knowledge and even if the father’s wanted to do the right thing, most of them haven’t been raised in the right environment to KNOW what the RIGHT THING IS! Nor are they equipped to do so.
John you are so very right! No Discipline → No Manners → No Respect → Today’s Problems!!
Ronald Reagan, for all the good he did, also did some pretty crappy stuff. Like empty out all the mental hospitals. Kicked all those people out on the streets. Gave them a big wad of cash and pushed them out the door. Not the best policy.
Viet Nam War Vets have some of the highest PTSD and Suicide rates of any group of people anywhere. Vets in general have a much higher suicide rate than about any other group. What a great job we’ve chosen for ourselves. Crappy pay, lousy hours, horrible job conditions and when you get back from your overseas assignment you get treated like garbage by your friends and neighbors. But hey! Nowadays, you’re called a potential domestic terrorist, so you’ve got that going for you!
Boys and Girls, fellow campers, this is such an incredible hot button for me. So hot that I have to be very careful when I walk through this minefield. I spent 13 years active duty Air Force and (so far) another 18 years as a civilian working for the Air Force. That’s 31 years of military service so far. I’ve got at least another two years to go before I retire. The way we treat our military members and veterans is appalling! The words homeless and veteran should never appear in the same sentence together and yet a quick Google search says that there are at least 38,000 homeless veterans in the United States in 2023. We should be ashamed of ourselves. Men and women who freely offered to give up their very lives FOR US and we can’t even give them a safe place to sleep at night.
Just remember this: John 15:13
And you will think about your Veterans in a whole new light.
And John, I like it that you don’t agree with everything that I write, what fun would that be? But, don’t ever get to the point that you disagree so mightily that you stop writing brother.
Love is a long sweet dream
Marriage is the alarm clock.
The devout cowboy lost his favorite BIBLE while he was mending fences out on the range.
Three weeks later, a cow walked up to him carrying the BIBLE in its mouth.
The cowboy couldn’t believe his eyes. He took the book from the cow’s mouth, raised his eyes heavenward, and exclaimed, “It’s a miracle!”
“Not really,” said the cow. “Your name is written inside the cover.”
Old man Willy Blumenfeld was getting on in years. His son, Harold, had done well financially in ladies’ underwear.
He asked his father if he’d like to go down to Miami Beach. He thought it would be good for the old man to have companionship and balmy weather as well in his declining years.
The old man was pleased but consented to go only if he could be at a Kosher hotel. And so Harold made reservations at the Sterling Hotel and put his father on a plane for Miami Beach.
His son phoned him once a week and everyone seemed happy. Some weeks later, Harold had to make a business trip south and decided to drop in on pop unannounced as a surprise.
When he got to the Sterling Hotel, there was no sign of old man Blumenfeld.
He asked the desk clerk if he had any idea where his father might be and he was told he might try room 402 at the Sans Souci. Harold hopped into a cab and headed for the Sans Souci. He learned at the desk that room 402 was occupied by a Miss Peggy Murphy.
Harold rushed up to room 402, knocked at the door which was opened by a tall, sparsely dressed redhead. And there was papa in a bathrobe!
Harold was furious! Unable to contain himself, he screamed, “Papa, I’m so shocked I don’t know what to say! An old religious man like you! And you insisted yet you must stay at a Kosher hotel!”
The old man looked at him as if crazy and said, “So, what are you getting so excited for? I don’t eat here!”
It says “Waiting for snow to fall” and I believe Loudly and Proudly.
Wife: There’s a nice-looking lady at the window table.
Husband: She’s a hooker.
Wife: How can you be so sure?
Husband: C’mon! Look at her hair, all that make-up, that short skirt, the plunging neckline, and those high heels.
Wife: But you like it when I dress like that. Do you think I look like a hooker?
Husband: There’s no way I can get out of this conversation alive, is there?
Must be the chili
Jewish Mothers vs. Italian Mothers
The year is 2028 and the United States has elected the first woman as well as the first Jewish president, Susan Goldstein.
She calls up her mother a few weeks after Election Day and says, “So, Mom,
I assume you’ll be coming to my inauguration?”
“I don’t think so. It’s a ten-hour drive, your father isn’t as young as he
used to be, and my arthritis is acting up again.”
“Don’t worry about it, Mom, I’ll send Air Force One to pick you up and take
you home. And a limousine will pick you up at your door.
“I don’t know. Everybody will be so fancy-schmantzy; what on earth would I
Susan replies, “I’ll make sure you have a wonderful gown, custom-made by
the best designer in New York.”
“Honey,” Mom complains, “you know I can’t eat those rich foods you and your friends like to eat”
The President-Elect responds, “Don’t worry Mom. The entire affair is going
to be handled by the best caterer in New York; kosher all the way. Mom, I
really want you to come.”
So Mom reluctantly agrees and on January 20, 2028, Susan Goldstein is being sworn in as President of the United States. In the front row sits the new
President’s mother, who leans over to a Senator sitting next to her and
says, “You see that woman over there with her hand on the Torah, becoming
President of the United States?”
The Senator whispers back, “Yes, I do.”
Mom says proudly, “Her brother is a doctor.”
Giuseppe excitedly tells his mother he’s fallen in love and that he is
going to get married.
He says, “Just for fun, Mama, I’m going to bring over three women and you
try and guess which one I’m going to marry.” The mother agrees.
The next day, he brings three beautiful women into the house, sits them
down on the couch and they chat for a while.
He then says, “Okay, Mama, guess which one am I going to marry?”
Mama says immediately, “The one on the right.”
“That’s amazing, Mama. You’re right. How did you know?”
Mama replies: “I don’t like her.”
Well, that should be fun.
But that should be a good thing, right?
You know what really makes me throw up?
A dartboard on the ceiling.
I’d like to know where this place is at. I’m a senior and could use a good wash and vacuum.
I’m not even going to touch this one.
Protecting the world from the forces of evil.
Late one night, a burglar broke into a house that he thought was empty. He tiptoed through the living room but suddenly he froze in his tracks when he heard a loud voice say; “Jesus is watching you.”
Silence returned to the house, so the burglar crept forward again. “Jesus is watching you,” the voice boomed again.
The burglar stopped dead in his tracks. He was frightened. Frantically, he looked all around the room. In a dark corner, he spotted a bird cage and in the cage was a parrot. He asked the parrot: “Was that you who said Jesus is watching me?”
“Yes,” Said the parrot.
The burglar breathed a sigh of relief, then asked the parrot: “What is your name?”
“Moses,” said the bird.
“That is a dumb name for a parrot,” sneered the burglar. “What idiot named you Moses?”
The parrot said, “The same idiot who named the Rottweiler Jesus.”
Rum Cake: Ozark Family Recipe
1 or 2 qts. of rum
1 cup butter
1/8 tsp. sugar
2 large eggs
1 cup dried fruit
1 tsp. baking soda
Before you start, sample the rum to check for quality.
Select a large mixing bowl, measuring cup, etc. Check the rum again. It must be just right! To be sure the rum is of the highest quality, pour 1 level cup of rum into a glass and drink it as fast as you can. Repeat.
With an electric mixer, beat butter in large fluffy bowl. Add 1 seaspoon of thugar and beat again. Meanshile, it’s important to make sure the rum is of the finest quality—try another cup.
Open the second quart of rum if necessary. Add 1 arge leggs, 2 cups of fried druits and beat till high.
If the druits get stuck in the beats, just pru it loose with a drewscriver. Sample the rum again for cinscistincy.
Next, sift 3 cups of salt and feffer (it really doesn’t matter). Sample the wum again.
Sift 1 pint of lemon goose, add 1 bablespoon of brown thugar, of whatever color tou can find. Mix well. Grease oven, turn cake pan to 350 greeds.
Noe, pour the whole mess sinto the boven and ake. Check the crum again and go to bed.
Like your Southern Lawn Mower . . . .
Like your how to eat a popsicle . . . reminds me of a true story, but a banana, not popsicle, have to tell you some time.
Like the movie green board, remember the first time I ever saw the concept, about 50 years ago.
Like your Rum Cake recipe, need to make a correction . . . to Myers Dark Rum.
Ok, so it occurred to me, you are very lucky you aren’t presenting the contents of your issues in person. I could bore you with stories for hours!