Okay, I get it: we’re all different. Thing is, how different?

Of course I know it’s almost Thanksgiving, a time for food fetish feasting…so it’s the perfect time for this glob.

Let’s just get to it—I feel like I’m one guy yelling in the wind.  “– One-third of Americans have taken part in some sort of fetish or kink play.”* I may be a complete loser when it comes to the fetish game.  Apparently, I was born on another planet and merely shipped here to keep a sense of balance in the polls, not sure.

Thing is, why do people nibble toes?  Yes, people love to do this and it’s in plenty of movies, but why toes? Basically toes sweat in socks all day, right? Unless you take baths, how many people successfully bend over in showers to clean them? Yeah, no…you can’t start a date or third date depending upon on long it takes to need to ask your prospective partner if they take bathes or showers–that’s awkward.  Yet, it’s important to note that swallowing toe jam may not be the best thing. Who knows what’s in toe jam? When you get down to the microscopics of it all, there could spiders in that crap! Mushrooms may grow down there; bugs of any kind. Insects that have lived over the 6000 years people have only been on the planet (give to take a few million years) may have evolved into any type of toe jam eating organism. I’ve never seen a jar of jelly for sale labeled toe jam or even at a discounted price so , for me, toe nibbling is out.

Plenty of people nibble ears—huff, huff, ‘I have to nibble your ear’ said who?—again you see it in on zillion movies but why? Ears have ear wax in them right? What’s the break down on ear wax—I’d like to know. This is the sort of stuff we needed to learn in high school or middle school before we began diving in before lunch! Is ear wax high in protein and low in saturated fats? Maybe ear wax is the best diet food we’ve yet to discover? I’m not sure but it would have to come with some sort of warning……”Danger, there may be a bunch of hardware on that ear.” Before you nibble on a pierced ear you need to ask yourself a few simple questions: where did that hardware come from and where has it been?  I get it that tongue rings are ‘special,’ but what happens if a tongue rings meets an ear piercing? The two can tango or tangle? By the way–is ear wax fattening; has anyone asked? Are there fungus’s to be concerned about in the ear…it all needs studying.

For all we know, the plague might start from someone ingesting ear wax.

Then there’s under arms. I can’t wait to lick your under arms! Who knows what might be there? Maybe a bunch of deodorant full of carcinogenic material no one has tested? Plus, there’s sweat—you know, the stuff a body has outcast as trash. Yum.

Yes, it’s your deodorant I long for. (Like the perfect ad, right?)

Please don’t kiss me now.

Belly buttons are special, right. I get that ,too. But one thought: if you enjoy navel fuzz, have you tried licking your dryer filter?

We once were attached to mom there but now we’ve run a muck with piercing the area for what?

Are we decorating our life source or stabbing it?

Let’s hope that isn’t loaded.

Thing is, munching on a navel is enticing to some, but why talk with a mouth full of marbles while making love…” um bov, yu oeces,”  Again, about those tongue piecing and navel bells. I think the enticing part of nibbling on belly button is most likely that we’re on our way south. But, what if we get stuck there? Listen people do get stuck in all sorts of situations. You decide.**

So, there’s a zillion fetishes to talk about but I wanna skip the one about spanking. Listen, spankings are bad and we all know it from about day one. Mom can’t count to three slow enough and when dad gets home against all your prayers the entire world seems lost to the devil when he arrives. Still, some enjoy getting their butt walloped until their ass is red. Me? Nah. All I can think of is a guy or woman getting carpel tunnel after hearing , “May I have another” for the millionth time. I’d think one might lose a bunch of weight delivering a spanking but is that the point of sex?

In the end, (whoops) don’t beat yourself up over it.

There’s a million ways people find pleasure and I’m about to think 99.9% of them are weird to me since I’m from another planet.  But all of this, whether you indulged or not, doesn’t define who you might be in society. Don’t forget, President Lyndon B. Jonson had punishing shower heads in stalled in his White House shower.(Oh my god, this is so much worse than I’d read before).*** But that’s an entire different thing-self fetish, pain a punishment.

Me? I like the sex—you can keep the ‘au Jus.’

Franque23

*https://www.bustle.com/p/almost-half-of-americans-say-theyre-kinky-survey-finds-heres-what-sex-acts-theyre-into-8133938

*https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/all-about-sex/201810/unconventional-sex-is-actually-pretty-common

**https://www.bbc.com/news/magazine-25827175

***https://www.vanityfair.com/news/2015/03/ldb-white-house-shower

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


There’s nothing like a quick four or five day get-a-way to lighten up  a month of working, right? It’s by luck we have a home in Barefoot Bay,  one of Florida’s largest manufactured home communities.  Sure, Barefoot has a golf course (I don’t play). a shopping center, library, food shops of all sorts, several pool areas and mini-lakes scattered about as well as it’s own super long pier that juts out into the Indian River—that’s all fine and good. But the thing to me about Barefoot Bay is the private Atlantic beach-side property the community owns, and what a treasure it is.

(You can see the Barefoot Bay community has no direct bridge to its beach front that is located just north of Sebastian Inlet. This is the only picture in this post that enlarges with a click.)

The property is located just north of Archie Carr’s National Wildlife Refuge* and for years it’s been as pristine and isolated as any beach-side could get in Florida. Only recently have adjacent and surrounding properties gone up for sale, and some houses are already in place. Of course, I hate this, but who can stop development? Thankfully, nothing can take away my memory of watching whales swim by this beach as well!

There’s no need for Valet parking when we go…

(Psst: this shot was taken at 4 PM on a Sunday afternoon!?!?!)

This isolated stretch of heavenly beach is also my dog’s favorite running zone!

Shadow’s ready to run and the beach is waiting as the waves roll in.

We have all we need to make this work!

“Come on!” Shadow waits patiently with his shadow.

“Get the ball; it’s time to run!”

I watch him scurry down the final leg of the boardwalk and onto the sand. I heave the ball with a ‘chuck-it’ as far as I can throw it.

Shadow runs himself ragged after tennis balls. It’s an amazing time and we still have the beach to ourselves as far as the eye can see! Seriously! On a ‘crowded’ day I see four or five fishermen and maybe four walkers. Can you imagine? These beach trips make me feel as though I’ve gone to the moon and back, only there’s an ocean here in all of its surf-side glory.

The waves pound as birds call above sea-foam that pops in the wind.

Finally, Shadow is played out for now. He goes to the boardwalk when he’s had enough and we scoot on up to wash off before enjoying a restful twenty-five minute ride home.

I always take one last look before we leave.

Bye for now.

Oh wait! There’s one more curious thing about this parking lot of no valets. I came to this beach for twenty years and until the parking lot was ‘improved'( widened and sea grapes taken out) I never noticed that underneath a vast array of vines was an old hotel or home of sorts.

That’s it—just ahead over there. Nothing but vines, right? Perhaps, if you look hard you’ll see this one hundred foot long structure of broken down doors and windows underneath the vines!

I wonder about this history? Who lived here? What was it like back then? Someone had a keen eye for solitude and staked a claim here.

(You can see some of the red roof line on the center-left.)

For now, the land has won back the space and for all the empty spaces still filled with vines, living plants and critters I wish it could stay this way.

Going to the ocean always remains dream-like for me. I know it’s real and part of me, but I can’t touch it when it’s gone from sight, when I’m away. Me and my Shadow just have to await another day to live the dream again.

What a day! What a run it was!

Cheers

Franque23

*https://www.fws.gov/refuge/Archie_Carr/


Man has always made weaving’s. Why? We are part of one.

It was just a small spool of thread lying upon the bed in the morning. Two inches of the thread lay extended beyond the spool as if it were searching for a binding that needed stitching. The colored thread was red but not as deep as fire, but rather subdued in a way that mellowed my attention to its purpose.

It all got me thinking about that Abercrombie and Fitch woman, Jamie, I’d met up at Lake Bonaparte who worked in the upper spheres of their purchasing department. She stood tall, but not too much so, and held a strong image of elegance. We bantered and shared the this and that of our lives.

 

 

 

“You must have fun picking out patterns and materials; it feels real artsy.” A few seconds of images passed in mind. “I like patterns; love material. I do leather craft.”

“You work in leather craft?” I watched Jamie’s eyes shift left to view a memory she might have stored about the media.

“Yes. It’s been over ten years now. My wife and I have made about everything you can imagine to do with leather craft.” I was proud of our three shops and success. “I love material; you’re lucky to be working with the designs, material purchases and decisions for such a large outfit.”

Her nod gave way to question.”So, what do you think is the most important part of what I buy for Abercrombie and Fitch?”

The query was unexpected. “Maybe the thread is the most important.” It was an off-hand answer, the first that came to mind when thinking about a blouse, or jeans, or about anything that had sewed pieces.

Her eyes glowed as a full moon in the deep night, “Yes! That’s it completely! Without the best thread, the finest material is lost, so easily torn and soon cast aside. The bindings are what matters.”

Bindings are what matters….

It’s thirty or more years since I heard the words but they somehow still hover near.

The deepest blue waters of Lake Bonaparte glistened around our conversation that day. I can still see the sparkling sunlight dance off the water and spring around the dock as though magic was in the air. Even back then, Lake Bonaparte had become more than a lake to me. The lake was a thread in my life, something that held me together before that day, then, and would well into the further.

My thoughts drifted off that morning just as those past days up at Lake Bonaparte have fled from view. I stared back at the spool of thread on the bed and wondered where it might belong, where it might go should I pick it up.

In truth, that red spool of thread had reached out to me. It had magically asked for me to realize how the threads of my life came together to make me whole, to bring me peace.  But, I have to tell you, that peace hasn’t come easily as a soft wind in the most subtle morning light, not like the evening stars up at the Lake.

My life has never been a smorgasbord of hurrahs, no not that. The red thread had stretched out to me and asked what passed through me, what tied me together. That answer ran a thin line through my eyes to my heart, wrapped around my brain and tightened into a knot.

I was born lucky, white, in America, with a loving dad and mom and all the Christmas tree trimmings any kid could ask for. Still, while others skated free in my childhood I seemed sidelined with some things I can’t even write about now, not yet. Of course, life is a mix for all of us, full of ups and downs we have to turn around and make straight.  We’ve all had our hearts torn out by first loves that were never meant to last but to teach. We’ve all had friends who turned out to be enemies; victories that ended in the loss column. But having a sixth grade friend at a scout meeting ask me for help in a way I could not understand and then hang himself in his parents basement that same night hasn’t been perfect—and so much worse for him. It’s as if the memory of his smile funnels me down along side his pain, one I can’t imagine. Later, not much, my best friend drown before me within hearing distance but beyond site in a lake at Marlborough Vermont. I’ve written about this event before, and there are too many premonitions that led up to this happenstance to recall here now, but I’m not sure I’ve ever left those three days of waiting that it took to find Bobby’s body. Let’s face it: part of me is still in that water and I know it.* Is it a stretch to think we all have pain in life?

We all have to move on; we all have to stitch our lives together the best we can.

So, without a mirror but a cast aside spool of thread I came that morning to reckon what pieces me together, what keeps me balanced, on my feet, smiling, working in the garden and saying hello to those I never think of as strangers. I’ve dug down, tore it all up and realized why I say hello to plants, birds, the sun and the rain. I’m happy; basically, I’m happy.

But, why am I happy?

Though my wife and I have had a small amount of success in our lives, I’m certain no amount of wealth or holdings brings happiness.  A simple, pure joy is a different animal than a bank account. Life is the thread we cling to as we live and in those moments lies the bind of happiness. My wife will tell you there are plenty of mornings, afternoons or evenings I’m doing the happy dance. Sure, I may be blocking my wife’s TV view or arousing our dog, Shadow, to uncontrollable fits of barking but you know what: I’m still happy. I’m happy to see the morning, the rain, the fog, the cold, the lonely stars at night, the snake that slithers away as I call it, the post man who waves back and my work mates who nod as they go by.  I’m happy to hear the wind as it vibrates my ear drums and becomes an inseparable part of me.

I understand the immense hardships humanity has suffered through in the past and is currently having to endure. None of that is good, and, like you, I wish it could end. Still, I cling to the notion that that if we are here for a purpose in life it’s to blossom as we can through it. The smallest seed can sprout thought the most solid rock; this is what we must do.

It all comes down to the threads of our lives and how we spool them together to carry with us. If you hurt, unwind that thread and re-spool. Bind yourself to a joy you have known no matter how small and plant that to grow inside you.

Many ask how they might be happy?

In a world of advice, I say know your world.

Know the people, places, animals, land and thoughts in your life as much as possible. Don’t walk though your time as though surrounded by unnamed mysteries: learn the name of the trees, plants, your neighbors, tools, clouds, birds and sights that fill your ears, eyes, mind and heart. Learn the way of everything you can. We are all surround by thousands of threads of life that want to bind with us. Make it happen. Then, the fabric of you will never be alone, and you will bind with the life around you, forever.

Franque23 loves you.

 

*https://franque23.wordpress.com/2010/01/25/the-dream-i-lived/

 


IMG_20191020_125528523_HDR.jpg

It’s that time of year again and I’ve decided the scariest costume I can wear is myself. Hey, it’s a free costume so what’s not to like? Yep, I’m gonna go out there as a bald headed, near-sighted, long eared seventy year old specimen featuring wolf-man like nose hair—that should do it! One look at me and my fellow younger trick-or-treaters will know all of life is a mistake; it’s a one way road to ruin loaded down with wobbling turkey neck, mouth drool and very thick glasses.

I’m gonna answer my door this Halloween and place handbills into trick-or treat bags: “Look at me! This is what life gets ya!”

People like to set weird lighting effects around their doorstep for eerie effects for this special night. Me? I’m using bright lights with a beam on my face at the door. Then again, maybe I should lay outside on the lawn like a snoring dead-man—this could save on printing costs for the handbills and candy alike!

Me on the lawn-

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It’s an odd day when the truth is the scariest thing of all!

BTW, my grandchildren drink blood..

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(Okay, it’s dragon fruit.)

I know, I know, people with facial wrinkles like to say, “I’ve earned every one of them!” Thing is, if we’ve already paid the price for those wrinkles, why do we have to wear them for the rest of our life?  Okay, maybe facial wrinkles would be fun to see in the mirror for like a day or a week, but forever?!?!?

Of course, many facial lines are,”laugh wrinkles,” as they say. “Cheer up!” they say! Okay, I’m asking: what was so funny back then to be worth this now? And, I wonder, if I keep laughing will my face eventually fall off. Anything is possible at this point.

Mom used to say I’d go blind if I kept that up but back in the day I guess arms fell off first! This is why so many statues from antiquity have no arms.

Image result for greek statue whose head or arms have fallen off

No one told this guy, and then it was too late.

What is it about wrinkles anyway? I’ve never seen a bird, rabbit, cat or dog have wrinkles!

So, why do people wrinkle? Is it a warning to others that a rotting corpse is still walking?  “Look out! This mistake still has feet!”

Nope, dogs don’t wrinkle; even mice don’t wrinkle! You’d think Mankind might have figured old age out better than a mouse by this  point in time!

IMG_20191026_134934022.jpg

Sometimes, I sit in my chair watching birds and wonder what the hell happened?!?!?

But, do I really regret being seventy? No—as long as I can have 50 years back I’m good. “Okay the joke is over; now lets get back to being 20!” I don’t recall making a deal about this aging thing: I want a lawyer. And, please, not  trump’s, ‘I only hire the best people,’ Giuliani. I’ll be selling wrinkles forever if this is the case.

I need to sail free of age like Caspar the ghost—I need to earn wrinkles that fly away: it’s Halloween after all.

Special!! Here’s a 20 second video of me putting up a Halloween Bulletin Board at work.

To be honest, things are looking up for me and my buddies; I think the tide is turning! But, it won’t be high tide, right?

Just hanging with my gang.

Do I regret being older than dirt? Of course not! I hate it!!!  Oh, I know,  I wouldn’t be who I am today if not for all my years of life! And, you might miss me if you stumble upon a random rock, fall into a pile of dog shit and think…”Oh yes, there was that guy who wrote a glob about this!* Whatever happened to him?” (So, you see, I could matter in certain situations, maybe.)

I finally realized this guy is wondering where his clothes are!

If clothes can be wrinkle free, why not people? Scientists need to be working on making people come through this drying out life process wrinkle free…

Fortunately, we never lose our energy.

Happy Halloweenie me. I’m looking perfect for the part.

In the meantime….maybe ramble thru the last ten years of globs I’ve written… some of them are spookier than me.

Franque23

  • I never did.
  •  Barbara sent me this today…..

    Non Sequitur 10/31/2019

 

 


While listening to fellow workers in  our department talk about their therapists I started to wonder: should I go see a therapist to find out why I don’t have one? Odd. Maybe, there is something wrong with me after all! (Fight the urge to answer.)

Image result for picture of trump as a pumpkin

I have several inspiring posts lined up for the up-coming Holiday season, but with all that’s happening in Washington now I thought what the heck—it’s almost Halloween…

BTW, if Trump didn’t lie he’d be a mute—that guy is enough to make every therapist in the world a billionaire.

Okay, this past week seems to have been a meltdown week for Trump and the GOP. That party needs a very long couch and therapy session.

The U.S. actually just had a number of GOP representatives break the rule of order in Congress by barging into classified hearings on the Hill because, ‘The democrats are breaking the rule of order while taking testimony?’ The rule of order GOP members referenced in this just-so-wrong mob mentality 1) doesn’t exist and 2) investigations like this always begin by taking testimony from people that other potential witnesses won’t hear. This process ensures no so-called witness will know what the other said when giving their testimony. This fact-finding method is very simple and very correct. And, 3) the process the democrats are using was drawn up and created by the GP when they hoped to impeach Obama!!!! Factcheck=100% true on this.

What’s not correct? How about the U.S. sending tanks and soldiers to protect oil fields in Northern Syria (where the Kurds lived until this week) while Kurd’s run for their lives past our forces?* Most of the the Kurds have absolutely no place to go?  Off hand, I’d suggest the oil fields as a safe place for the Kurds to go but would our troops hand the Kurds over to Turkish forces and still ‘man’ the oil fields?

Image result for pictures of us tanks going to protect syrian oil fields

One other question: how is it fifty nuclear war heads we had stored in Turkey are said to be still under our control? Is the world now a safer place?

I have to admit—I’ve a few more questions.

Why should we all feel like puking?

Imagine, take a moment, in the place where you live, maybe have always lived and fought to stay living, you and everyone else are told to leave in five days…Some of you have little if any savings, some live off the land…now all of you have no land… you must leave in five days.. imagine, if you will, the entire place, town or city you live in, leaving in five days or the people who can’t or haven’t will be shot dead… now.. how is that for you? America didn’t make an agreement with Turkey, it signed a death warrant for thousands of Kurd’s who trump claims need to be,’ cleaned out.’…….the real number of Kurd’s Trump has tossed aside is two million–all women, children and men. Most will will die in this ethnic cleansing initiated by Trump.

Does Trump’s tendency to equate large groups of people to scum, rat invested thieves, to something less than human mean he is much like Hitler? People ask. Well, Trump did refer to the Kurd region of Northern Syria as something that should be cleaned out. How grotesque. Thing is, I know Hitler liked dogs—and I think he liked music—so Trump isn’t exactly like Hitler. I remember that Hitler had a girl friend and I’ve never read he was accused by 19 women of sexual abuse. I admit, there are differences between these two genocidal maniacs.

We have things to be thankful for. At least Mexico might pay for the wall in Colorado.**

Image result for funny picture of man with therapist

And Trump’s second budget proposal, like his first, cuts Social Security and Medicare which he promised to save and not cut. See? Trump is consistent: if he’s talking, he’s lying.

There is one last bit of consistency from Trump I am thankful for: whatever he accuses someone else of doing he has already done or is about to do. This way, we always know what a low life, con man, double dealing, back stabbing man Trump is. We can take comfort in knowing who Trump is since he tells us everyday in every way. All we have to do is listen and the lowest of the lowlife Trump comes babbling out of his mouth.

GOP members continue to go pee on themselves by supporting their lunatic in the White house.

Hmmm… that reminds me: wasn’t there something about a pee-tape?

GOPee republicans! Why wait for a break during Trump’s next self-promoting advertising so-called rally. Just do it Republicans, but why are you standing down wind? Trump supporters—go ask your therapist about that.

Franque23

 

*https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/national-security/trumps-focus-on-protecting-oil-in-syria-highlights-an-evolving-us-mission/2019/10/24/fbb91f3e-f68d-11e9-829d-87b12c2f85dd_story.html

**https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/video/2019/oct/24/donald-trump-falsely-claims-hes-building-a-wall-in-colorado-video

 


My friend and great artist, Oscar, used to say it was the angles in college football that kept her attention.

Butt, I digress.

Sometimes, things don’t make sense. Walking into a door before we open it is one of them. And I kinda feel like these Gainesville Gator Football hot shots—the movers and shakers of this world—have stepped into a swamp of muddy thinking they’ve inflicted upon all of us. Why? (— scroll down to the part of the publication by U of F on dehydration precautions. It’s in this post.)

Yeah, so if you read that dehydration bit for even a bit you now know the extreme extent the Florida Gator Ben Hill Griffin Stadium group has gone to in order to hopefully prevent the dehydration of the 90 thousand plus fans expected to witness the Gators play Auburn.  That’s nice, and I get it: people who die of dehydration always resurrect lawyers who ask why. Reading the linked article above got me thinking….WT????

How is it possible folks who know enough to publish warnings about the midday sun dehydration, folks who provide thousands of free fans and tons of bottles of dollar water, folks who provide three thousand cooling towels for free, folks who display a map of drinking fountains and even how to locate a very expensive stand alone cool down mist room on wheels can’t think to maybe, duh, change the time of the game from 3:30 baking sun time to 7ish PM cooling sundown time?

It boggles the mind that some northern college football teams in the US will play TV games at night while the smoking hot sun-burned Gators will play at 3:30! Oh wait, I know, it’s all about TV scheduling. See? This is where the rubber meets the virgin? Say what? That’s right,,, the football teams that are forced to play within TV constraints are the rubber meeting the road and doing the work while the TV owners are the virgin schedulers that everyone thinks are beyond reproach.

But, I say the thinking and exchanges going on between college football programs (the SEC) and TV channels is all wrong. Listen up: the football players do the work while the TV stations make the money.

Oh sure, TV may pay Florida $$ for airing the game,,, but the station makes $$$$$$$$ for doings so!!  Check this out! “….TV-ad prices are rising. In the 2011 season, the average price of a 30-second ad during regular Saturday college games airing on ABC, CBS or NBC cost about $93,700, up 12% from the prior season, while the average price of a spot during the Bowl Championship Series was about $810,000, up 9%, Kantar said. So far this season, ad prices are up between 10% and 15%, it said.”**

So, I say it’s a holding call on the 50 yard line of robbery! I say TV channels owe their time outs and talking heads to the blood and guts being spilled on the turf, not the other way around.

Here’s the deal in simple language: football players make TV stations tons of money.

So, if those stations want the money then football teams, their coaches, and staff and administration should get to say when the game will be played, not the other way around as it is today.

Listen up: I’ve been the head of a Union for ten years in my life and if ever one side has the other by the cajones it’s right now. Let’s say the Gators want to play at 7 PM  against the Auburn tigers since people might die of dehydration if they play at 3:30??? Just bring it up and the TV station HAS to submit to the request or lawyers will eat them for lunch should one person,, even a 99 year old, die during the heated game! See???? It’s right there for any wide-out to plainly see. The path to beneficial game times for southern teams is right here to hold and do, but no one seems worthy of the thought.. Why?!?!?!

Florida Gators Administration: stop providing web links and cool down mist trucks. Just a few simple words by you and from now on the Gators will forever play prime time games at 7 PM. “We request that our starting TV broadcast time be moved to 7 PM in order to protect our players and fans from any effect due to dehydration during the game.”

Bingo! The liability due to dehydration now moves entirely upon the broad caster… Take it from me; it’s a done deal.

You are welcome.

So, please forward this to every Bull Gator you know. Please forward this to every Administration member you might know of in U of F. Thing is, if U of F doesn’t do this …they can be sued for forcing a player to play under adverse condition for the want of money…think about that as well…Parents , sue if your child has serious injury while playing in adverse conditions…it’s that simple.

UF…tell the stations to carry our games at night or we’ll find another broadcast. Let’s see who really wants the money.

No more hot September games; no more hot games at all. Just read this to know everyone who should know does: it’s too hot to play at 3:30 in Gainesville—it’s a public health risk for players and fans alike.

*Here’s the gist of the link:

“With high temperatures expected during the early part of the season, heat initiatives will be in place for the first four home games including misting stations located throughout Ben Hill Griffin Stadium (Gate 9, Gate 16, Upper North Endzone), free cups of ice and cooling busses outside Gates 2 and 13. Fans are also encouraged to stop by the Comfort Temp Chill Zone at Alligator Alley (west concourse between Gates 1 and 4) to cool down. There will also be 3,000 cooling towels distributed at the Gators Fan Fest prior to the game. Florida Lottery will have 15,000 hand fans to pass out at the Tennessee and Auburn games at select entry gates.

Empty Water Bottle
Fans are permitted to bring one (1) commercially branded (i.e. Aquafina) EMPTY plastic water bottle, no larger than 20 oz. There are several water bottle filling stations inside Ben Hill Griffin Stadium. Non-disposable water bottles, sport bottles, Nalgene-type bottles, cans, heavy plastic, glass bottles, and thermoses are NOT permitted in the Stadium. There are 12 water bottle refill stations throughout Ben Hill Griffin Stadium.

Hydration Stations
There are eight large Hydration Stations located inside and just outside the stadium, which offer FREE filtered water for fans and visitors to drink. Cups are provided, and inside the stadium fans can also fill their empty water bottle (see policy above).

Hydration Stations are located inside the stadium at Gate 2, 7, and 16, as well as behind Section 1 and 45, along with the upper north end zone behind Section 322. The two locations outside the stadium—which were purchased and sponsored by UF Student Government are outside Gate 8 and 16.

Fans are reminded that all you can drink refill stations are located at concession stands H40, H20, H6.

Complimentary Sunscreen
There will be free sunscreen for fans attending football games at Ben Hill Griffin Stadium available at the Guest Service Kiosks at Gates 1, 7 and 16.”

Ya know you’re guilty of taking the money at the risk of us all. Stop opening the door to TV providers while slamming the door on the lives of those who play or care to watch the game. Shame on you.
Franque23 bets on the lawyers.

*https://floridagators.com/news/2019/10/1/football-game-day-initiatives-auburn.aspx

** some random site I was lucky enough to find after 30 minutes of search..this stuff is deeply embedded–they don’t want to own up to the profits.


This isn’t a political coup but a chicken coop. That’s right, so far our GOP representatives who we desperately need to uphold the ideologies of a true conservative party are only interested in scratch—money that is, and what appears to be ‘dirty’ money as well. Money and the power it brings, basted with a heavy handed load of chicken-shit fear is what drives most of our GOP Senators and House members.

How low can you go to be elected to uphold the constitution and turn it into a verbiage of meaningless mosh-pit misdirection’s as though it was used toilet paper from another era? The clucking never stops from our GOP representatives. Lindsey Graham alone has demonstrated how two faced a politician—a politician mind you!—could ever be.

Fact:

Now, Lindsey Graham blows all of Trump’s crimes off as though they are nothing burgers, (his words,) but this wasn’t always the case with Graham when it came to a president committing high crimes and misdemeanors.

How in the world can Lindsey twist out of his skin at night to sleep well and then twist back into it to be the slimy snake of a man he is by day?

Claim: U.S. Sen. Lindsey Graham argued in 1999 that a crime wasn’t necessary for presidential impeachment.

Claimed by: Multiple Sources

Fact check by Snopes.com: True

To hear Lindsey Graham’s own words on this subject. https://www.msn.com/en-us/video/t/lindsey-graham-once-said-not-complying-with-congressional-oversight-was-an-impeachable-offense/vp-BBWkoQQ

Now, according to Graham, trump can’t be held accountable for any offense.

And, as astonishing as it might seem, Moscow Mitch McConnell out plays Lindsey Graham when it comes to being a two-bit liar wearing a Russian suit.

There isn’t a prison cell small enough for the two of them. They are both traitors. They spit in the face of our constitution and relish living the lavish lifestyles they reap from their hoodwinked constituents.  Moscow Mitch often responds to questions about why he has held up over one hundred bills from coming to a vote on the Senate floor with: ‘Because I can.’ You see? Moscow Mitch doesn’t even entertain the notion that he is motivated by a sense of duty to America and our constitution. Moscow Mitch and Lindsey-the- slippery are so far down in Russian pockets a dry cleaner couldn’t get them out.

It’s tempting to think the followers of these GOP chicken-shit leaders who tremble at the mere notion of having to endure Trump’s scorn are worse than these non-leaders, but they aren’t. No, voters get tricked, lied to, misled, dissed and crapped upon by elected officials all the time. Thing is, the lying elected officials do know what they’re doing and saying; their corruption is in their mirror every morning for them to see.

Moscow Mitch and a side-kick on a good day.

No one can count on these chickens to hatch anything but money for themselves.

The corruption within this current GOP Senate and House of Representatives makes the Tea Pot Dome scandal look like a tea party. Basically, these GOP representatives who fail to rebuke Trump are akin to whores serving us chicken gumbo: they take trump’s appointments, as well as the appointment of their wives to other positions, and then do whatever he wants in return for position and money.  Trump’s unconstitutional obstruction of justice, his willingness to incite riots or worse in America, his wanton sidestep of the emolument clause and obscene bullying and alienation of America from the world is beyond repugnant.

Talk about a rotten egg—trump has made a killing in causing business and personal bankruptcies.

As ex-GOP Senator, Jeff Flake, said this week*…. “he (Flake) wrote: “Trust me when I say that you can go elsewhere for a job. But you cannot go elsewhere for a soul.” Flake entitled his op-ed, “There’s still time to save your souls.”  This pronouncement should ring a bell in the minds of Christians and pseudo-Christians alike: it’s time for all of us to stop dancin’ with the devil and run to a higher, moral ground.

Googling ,’Trump and ganster,’ brings up 21 million hits.

Chicken-crap politicians need to be plucked from Congress and put in a cell with a cot and pot. Vote these lying chicken-cluckers out of office in 2020. America has lost jobs, lost food production, is selling nuclear secrets to the Saudi’s and is now polluting our drinking water and rivers.  This administration and GOP Congress is not a nothing’ burger, but simply one big splattered chicken-egg of failure and lies.

We don’t deserve this chicken-shit stew Trump has put us in.

Take a leap of faith and vote in 2020 like America depends upon this upcoming election: it does.

Cheers-have a nice day. GOP=chicken gumbo.

Franque23.

*https://www.foxnews.com/media/jeff-flake-republicans-save-soul-trump-impeachment


Greta Thunberg sails to America. She breezes into town with a boiling luster of avid belief full of conviction. There are those who mock this sixteen-year old who dares to stand and speak her mind, strongly, frankly, without regard for the pitfalls honesty can sometimes bring when speaking to those thought to be superior. They’re not.

Because I’ve worked in library services for almost twenty-five years now, this fired-up youth, Greta, conjures up memories of one of the bazillion books I’ve read—or at least in part scanned—over the years.

This book:

This book is a Juvenile Bio of a young man who really lived, Alexander Selkirk, though his true name was Alexander Selcraig. He was a Scott and it’s thought the name deviance as recorded was perhaps due to poor spelling or a rocking boat during the time of transcript.  His relative is alive today and reports that his research suggests, “Selkirk (as a young lad) was a bit of a bastard, more respected in his absence than in his presence.”*

My take is that Selcraig was a bit wild as a child, always in trouble, gifted in math and stubborn as the morning when it came to rising up to defend his right of opinion. Selcraig’s troubled youth may be what led him to become a sailor—it was a means to get away from his past. For whatever the reason, this youth so filled with fury was the real Robinson Crusoe; he lived marooned on an island for four and one-half years, and mostly by his own doing. He chose his path fueled by his own determination, you can call it a hot headed mindset if you like, and thereby set his story forever in history.

This brief description of Selcraig, or Selkirk, the one whose life is now known as Robinson Crusoe, brings to mind Greta Thunberg. Think about it. Though Greta apparently didn’t go around beating up people with sticks as Selcriag may have, she is, by her own admission, somewhat estranged from people by the very nature of her Asperger’s condition.

When Greta headed out with this sign, she was alone with only the company of her determination.  Greta knows she is right when it comes to the issues surrounding climate change and she’s willing to leave whatever she left behind to sail half way across the world to prove her point. Of course, Alexander Selkirk may have left his home to get away from his past while Greta has left home to make her future but, in the very least, the two seem to exhibit the same type of bold, unflinching spirit.

You see, Selkirk, in the year of 1704 approached his captain, Captian Stradling, while they moored by an uninhabited island and insisted the ship wasn’t worthy to sail. He demanded that the crew go ashore and make needed repairs before setting sail. (It’s reported that Selkirk was 28** and a worthy sailor and first mate of the vessel.)  Captain Stadling refused and the young lad, Selkirk, elected to remain behind on the desolate island rather than risk death at sea. It is recorded that, “Selkirk was put ashore with his bedding, a musket, pistol, gunpowder, hatchet, knife, his navigation tools, a pot for boiling food, two pounds of tobacco, some cheese and jam, a flask of rum and his Bible. He had made the biggest decision of his life. No longer just a complainer, he had taken action.” No doubt our Robinson Crusoe to be thought another ship would sail by his island soon enough—that took four and one-half years to happen!

Greta has set herself out upon an island of belief surrounded by a sea of media attention, slashing rhetoric and attacking foes who fiercely disagree with her opinions. She made her decision. and watched the easier life she might otherwise have had set sail. Her standing ground is conviction—but is she right?

It should be noted that Selkirk was. “Dampier(the captian who saved Selkirk) told Selkirk the bittersweet news that he had been all too right about the decrepit Cinque Ports. Soon after abandoning the Scotsman in 1704 the ship sank off the coast of Peru, killing all but Stradling (The Captian who would not heed Selkirk’s advice) and a dozen or so men, who wound up in Spanish prisons.” In fact, that ship sank in a matter of two days after leaving Selkirk on the abandoned island.

It’s also a sad truth that Selkirk became somewhat of a notoriety in England once his story became known, and he had more than enough money, but his life never lived up to the joy he found in solitude.  This is why Selkirk returned to the sea at age 44 to sail once again. However, fever soon took hold of much of the crew who died and they were thrown over board. It was recorded, “On December 13, 1721,………..North to northwest. Small Breeze and fair,” it read. “Took 3 Englishmen out of a Dutch ship and at 8 pm. Alexander Selkirk . . . died.”

Will Greta also find herself living a world she’d rather not see as time goes by? Will Greta Thunberg’s greatest moment be that she set her sights on what is right, but only to see that her message is left behind?  These are turbulent times and it seems those more powerful than her may strand her intentions in a tide of lawyers, business and money. I hope not. I hope Greta Thunberg finds a sea of people ready to right her sail and lift her message as an ocean of truth.

I’m willing to row her boat. You?

The earth is our ‘ship of state.’

Franque23

*For a more complete story

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/the-real-robinson-crusoe-74877644/

** Some facts differ from the book listed and the postings in the link. For one, Selkirk is said to be a young lad of 18 to 21  in the book when he was left on the island, not 28 as listed in the linked article. Here, I’ve deferred to the article linked.

 

 

 


(Click the pic for a larger view)

It made perfect sense back in the day to be awash at the beach by women wearing two piece suits.  Men wore the needed one piece while women wore all sorts of variations of single and two piece suits.

Really from 1960—

None of the suits turned see-through when wet and it seemed society remained relatively sane. Coppertone was widely used so actually I laid out in the sand in a vat full of people developing different forms of skin cancer. It was all good, like cigarettes, as far as we knew.

The two rules I recall at the beach was that there’d be no drinking and no female nipples showing. Not that my young self noticed any of those more risque two piece bonanzas..”Hey dad, can we go to the beach?” “Hey dad , can we go to the beach?” ” Hey, dad…..”

It seemed a no brainer, too, when our college bound hippie movement ushered in the bra-less, see my nipples under my shirt look. Not that any of us guys noticed. Ha! We were talkin’ straight studying of the Humanities or the science of it.

Anyway, today, just now, the news reported that six states currently will allow topless bathing (Is it just bathing?) -in Utah, Colorado, in please take me home, Kansas, New Mexico, even in Muskogee, Oklahoma and in beautiful, wide-open Wyoming. This is very embarrassing for my hippie counter parts: we defeated the bra but never thought outside the entire complex—the shirt, too. Sure, we had naked love-ins, parties, skinny dipping and whatnot, but I never heard anyone say, “Lets legalize topless ladies!”

But this new law didn’t happen over lust, but freedom. And the timing of today’s, “Free the Nipple” campaign is exactly 100 years after men fought to free their own nipples!  That’s right. Newspapers in the 1920 and 1930’s reported the nearly naked outlaws, and denounced the public display of  male nipples on beaches. Men were to cover up those evil nipples for the sake of, well, madness but no one seemed to know it back then.

“If only we could swim in our church suits!’ Said no one.

A semi-sorta prison outfit was a harbinger of things  to come for those guys who ‘freed’ their nipples at beaches!

Soon after the practice jail break beach-suit time, there were reports that indicated men were arrested left nipple and right nipple as they appeared nipple free at beaches…. As the New York Times reported :” No shirtless bather will be allowed “to mar the high standard and fine appearance” of Long Island’s newly created Ocean Beach Park, said resolute local Police Chief Philip B. Kohut, after the trial of three men arrested for swimming topless.”

But men would have none of this scandalously, ridiculous law that bogged them down from showing their nipples on beaches. Arrests were continuously made until 1937. What happened then?  Tarzan came out as a swinger.(Hee-hee)

That was it: men’s nipples were all the rage. The ‘top’ was blown off that stagnate, no male-nipple showing thought and it’s possible men started to think about how to get larger nipples at this time?!!? I’m not sure—just projecting by having the grace of knowledge about our history since this famous date.

Yep, Tazan went swinging and the world went crazy with this news: “‘Bareback’ bathing for men, heretofore taboo in Atlantic City, broke down the last line of official resistance today and will be allowed this Summer,” the New York Times reported on March 29, 1937.”

Women, however, were to remain in one piece bathing suits that only lacked a Chasity belt to be fully correct. So what freed the woman’s belly button? (Lord no, no one was thinking topless…)

Micheline Bernardini, a French nude dancer, was the only model swimsuit designer Louis Réard could find to wear his bikini when it debuted July 5, 1946, in Paris. (AFP/Getty Images)

To this point, here is the heroine of the modern day two-piece female swim-suit…It’s like she deserved the, Noble ‘Piece’ Prize…:-) Yep, leave it to a dancer to strip away antiquated opinions. Can’t you hear it now? All the men across America yelling, “Put your clothes back on! Put your clothes back on!” I gotta admit, I haven’t come across any article about marches of men who were outraged over women wearing a bikini taking place at this time. Weird, huh?

Does time change anything as much as it does fashion? I have to think.

 

Anyway, now-a-days plenty of women have been arrested for barring their souls and bosoms. It’s to America’s credit that six of our states have caught up to Germany who started their first nude beach in 1920. I’m mean that’s only, okay, about 100 years—that’s all it took for American society to almost catch up to Germany’s freedom of expression. So grading on a one one to ten basis, when it comes being able to be partially naked on beaches, America gets about, what, a one?

Yay! We get a one and maybe done for being a leader in not very much at all. I love this country: it’s the one I was born in. It’s just when it comes to so much, we seem so slow to catch on, to make a difference and to lead. Right now, this isn’t the country I grew up in. This is a country that still wants those one piece women swim suits, to dictate how those so different from one another should live by another’s standard. Listen, we fought to be free from the get-go. It ain’t gonna stop.  Women will be topless if they want; gays will marry and have equal rights. Big oil will lose it’s shirt if it doesn’t shift to solar and renewable energies and lying politicians who hate Homosexuality while keeping a closet full of young boys will pass. This is America, and we will right ourselves.

I learned in Boy Scouts how to tie and untie knots…we all did, and can. America is moving forward, not backward.

Cheers.

Franque23 has always been a skinny dippin’, fun loving guy 🙂

 

 

 

 

 


Even ends have them. Thing is, I may have found one.  It was a few days back when I first heard my wife talk to our Roomba: “Go on; get home.”  I listened to the curious sound of brushes swishing carpet until there was a metallic sounding clink and then silence but for my wife’s words, “Good boy.”

So, after one million years of marriage it’s come to me talking to plants while my wife talks to the Roomba! I guess this makes sense. But, will I soon be asking the sugar bowl to fill itself up? Wait! If that could work…

Did you ever notice how many things we talk to? The, “Stupid door,” that wouldn’t open; “Come on, baby,” is the best way to get that screw to budge; “You are out of here,” I told the roach.  And how about the wall you just walked into that didn’t move out of the way? What do you say then? (Can’t write that here.”)

You can always count on the French for a different point of view.(Paris street sculpture.)

Yep! Life is constant dialogue between the living, the dense and the concrete matter of every kind of substance.  Will we one day tell a chair our name, then raise, lower and recline it by voice command so that it remembers who we are and our position preferences? (actually, I haven’t looked, but this might be on sale somewhere)* So-called, ‘Smart-houses,’ one’s that have lights come on and doors open by voice command, are already here for those who can afford them. More, do you know scientists just detected brain wave functions in synthetic brain cells they created? It all makes me wonder—what if these synthetic thinking substances can be fused into inanimate objects?

Star Trek was cray-cray to show people talking to things on their wrist back in the 1960’s , right?

Here’s a phone from the 1960’s, though fancier ones could be hung on walls.

This is Star Trek’s whack-o idea of a phone.

Something about this seems so familiar…

Time flies, or does it loop, or spin down a funnel into another space and’time.’

Have you noticed how depictions of what worms holes or black holes might look like resemble the shape of the hourglass, an invention from the 8th century AD.

Worse, or more amazing, the hourglass measured time. Now, we think something along the same design may speed us through time–or connect time.

Scientists right now are speculating that hyper-drive technology (who wrote Star Trek anyway?) may enable people to travel from earth to mars in three hours. Really, that’s basically less time than it takes to watch a football game.

As much as we know, what do we really know? We’ve no idea what time might be but for our relative creation of the concept. We don’t know what is up or down in terms of just about anything.

Things can get weird fast when you think about it.

What was once attractive isn’t now and vice-versa. Things just change for better or worse depending, sometimes, upon your view.

This fifteenth century look was all the rage.

Hmmmm….maybe things don’t change! (Current shot from England.)

It was interesting to recount to my work mates that back in 1963 no guys (hardly) had hair that grew over there ears. And when the Beatles led that style people like myself got spit on by others for following that trend. Take just a minute to imagine such a time here in America.

Oh my, you can’t see the top of McCartney’s ear! Call the cops!!!

Now, just about any hair style, length and color is good.

So, there are always beginnings and endings and they actually always happen simultaneously—one defines the other without exception. Every beginning ends something, even if it is just that the particular beginning now exists when it didn’t a second before. The abstinence of any beginning is over once it has begun. I know—they can’t legalize pot soon enough.

Anyway…..

People shout!”This is the end of America.” Really? It’s a bit abstract to think of America simply ending. I suppose it could since anything is possible. Certainly, this current administration’s agendas and lack of regard for American principles is catastrophic in terms of its effect upon the environment, conservation and humanitarian principles. Simply, I think peace, justice and humanitarian principles will win over tyranny. But, make no mistake, this administration is one end that has to happen.

Still, no matter how globally we try to focus, it’s easy to find it very worrisome when someone yells, “The cake is all gone!”

Nah, don’t worry. You know someone will bake another. That last bite was just the start of many more to come.

Franque23

  •  saw an ad that shows a TV remote doing all sorts of freaky stuff in a house by voice command.

 

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