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So, I’m good until April 13th as the library I work for will remain on Administrative leave until this date—this is the latest update on our work schedule. I realize this puts me and my fellow workmates in a good place, for now. But, the discussion as to a possible start date to return to work is troubling at best. It’s all a social matter of time and life.
There is a plotting graph of projected deaths from the corona-virus based on return to work dates that is revealing and horrifying.* (take some time to look this graph over and fool with the sliding projector button in it…this reveals a bunch of info as we wait to return to work and the projected death rate..)
Looking at the death rate possibility (and this is only the best that can be done with a projection) if our society generally goes back to work around Easter we will likely have 115 million deaths by Oct. in America…. BUT, if the owners and our leaders kept things closed for 80 more days from now, the curve would about flatten to a death rate seen with normal cold/virus activity thru Oct, 2020….
It seems a simple choice but somehow it isn’t. Social distancing may take too darn much time?!?!?!
Those who want to open up again soon say it must be done to save our economy….These people say soldiers have given their lives for battle and this is like a battle to them. Construction workers have died for over two hundred years building America. So many have sacrificed limb or life to make America what She is now. They say it’s time for all of us to go back to work and for some workers to die doing so.
Those who would like to live take issue with the thought of so many dying for our economy within this calendar year. Another interesting side was this: how would 115 million deaths by Oct. in America affect our economy? Can we lose up to 115 million by Oct. without suffering some economic upheaval?
Then there’s the sap-suckers who exclaim, “But I love Grandpa!” And other’s yell back, “But we all need the money!”
Then again, there’s this little guy in the back of the room wearing a business hat mentioning that if 115 million older folks died that would be a boost to our health care system and Social Security layout; it’d be like sweeping out the gutters after fall so things could start flowing smoothly again. But who made anything work smoothly in the first place?
Hmmmm, I hate thinking I’m cluttering up the gutters.
I mean, I’ve spent my life working for a country I was taught to love thinking this country loved me back. Really, Kennedy getting shot in four places by one bullet was a bit of a shocker, but this let-em-die deal has this seventy year-old who has Asthma (note: 25 million Americans do) thinking this is personal. It’s one thing to know,’ Hey, they shot the President,’ but a whole other thing when its, ‘they don’t give a rats ass about me!’
So yeah, this last thought can get deep, like why did I go to school? Why obey driving laws? Why not shop lift whenever possible if I can get away with it? Why not cheat on my taxes?, Ah hell, just don’t pay them and keep moving. The more you think, the more Antarctica sounds like a lovely place to live.
But then again, to be fair, honest, it is noteworthy that more than one person who thought the Coronavirus a hoax has died from it soon after the virus was first spread in America. Some people think God has a sense of humor—I don’t know, but I do believe a life has a way of balancing itself out.
The rich want the workers back as soon as possible at all costs and are willing to risk throwing the lives of so many to a bad fate. Me? I’m hoping a reasonable leader will shed some light on the meaning of Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness…
I think the unions should get a very loud voice when it comes to the start back date for workers in this country. Yep, Unions might save the day, again, here in America. So, as you get those socialistic checks that congress will send in the mail to save your ass, remember how Unions helped save the workers here soooo many times as well throughout our history. Science, unions and social programs we have here in America make us great…not greed, not hats, not wrong headed politicians or stupid ideas.
Be smart; stay home if you can…it would be for the good of us all; it might be a sacrifice like those fighting soldiers in WW II gave. People are right, fighting this virus is like a war, but the virus is not all that this war is about. It’s about the workers lives and our right to live them.
I think Joe Biden may have said it best this week: trump should stop talking and do some listening to the scientists who know better. There is little doubt, this return to work date debate is a social matter of time and life verses profit!
Franque23 check out this moving graph below…it’s just amazing.
It’s interesting to note that Bill Gates could give 206 million adults in America one million dollars each and be out only 3.4 % of one of his yearly incomes.* So really, would you do it if you were Bill Gates and what would be the outcome? Two tough questions, maybe. Now before I answer for myself, I want to clarify that there are more than 206 million adults in America over 18 years of age, but those people are already millionaires! So Gates wouldn’t be giving these self-made millionaires another million.
Yep, only 206 million adults in America are not millionaires already…This I find amazing in of itself! What the hell have I been doing all my life! I’m thinking daily naps have cost me plenty. I mean, I’m a guy who picks up coins off the ground and saves them in a jar! There’s some trick to this millionaire thingy that I missed while passing the joint, jumpin’ off cliffs at lime pits naked and sitting in the Ocala National Forest like a blade of grass for three years. No, I’ve been fishing with the wrong attitude and the wrong bait. This whole, I’m-not-a-millionaire disaster is making me think twice about dumpster diving for discarded winning lotto tickets!
Okay, to answer: Yes I would one-time spend 3.4 % of my yearly income if that would give 206 million people a million dollars. But would that really help people? I already hear that don’t give a man a fish but teach him how to fish bull-shit story echoing off this post. See? The guy who just starved to death for want of a fish to eat doesn’t really need that fishing rod.
Anyway, If Bill Gates or some other more-money-than-fall-leaves person did spread the wealth for free, the world would be a beautiful thing. Go ahead and scoff billionaire rich folks, but I know this for a fact because, in a way, someone has already done this, but not in America.
This success story of those who help others help themselves started in 2001 with a 100 dollar interest free loan.
Dr. Amjad Saqibis is currently the head of an interest free loaning company in Pakistan named, AKHUWWAT.**
This business that now has lent millions and millions of loans interest free to hard working people in need of money to get a leg up has an astonishing 99.97% full pay-back record. And, it all started with a few friends wondering if the one hundred dollars might be lent interest free to a woman with the promise that she’d return the money once she got on her feet. Well, the women returned 6 months later with money in her bank account and the 100 dollars. A few others made donations to Akhuwwat thinking this was a wonderful idea. Soon, more loans proved more people just needed that head start to make it and more donations came in. Then the loan amount became up to $10,000.00 with the expectation the money would be returned in time % free.
What has become of Akhuwwat? Currently, AKhuwwat has 110 million loans out in small or large amounts and it’s all interest free. If the past is any indication of this company’s future, the money will all be returned to use again as well. Meanwhile, more donations keep pouring into the company’s coffers.
So yes, some billionaire could give money to all Americans and make life better for everyone in this country… Just read the article linked below to realize it can be done; things could be different for us all.
There really could be a rainbow in our future…
Thing is, money isn’t wealth. Wealth is a state of being, a state of mind—the true essence of value. America has made so many people rich beyond belief to those of us who struggle to get by. Maybe, just maybe, there’s one to two of them who have both Money and Wealth. We’ll see.
Franque23
**”Akhuwat gave its first loan of $100 USD to a widow who was striving to earn a decent living through honorable means. She wasn’t looking for charity; she was only seeking a helping hand. By utilizing and returning that loan within a period of six months, she reinforced the belief that when we help the poor with trust and respect, they exhibit unshakable integrity.
The success of that first loan brought in more donations, and that group of friends became convinced that their venture into interest-free microfinance was viable. And so, Akhuwat was born, with these friends forming the first Board of Governors and Dr. Amjad Saqib serving as the first Executive Director.”
The reason why was never said around my house because the reason was the why and the why was the reason. Yes, if a person says, the reason why, they might as well say, ‘the why why’ or, ‘the reason reason’ Just pick one word or the other and go with it…..
Mom was a fourth grade teacher who spoke Portuguese around our house sometimes and often with her siblings—she and her siblings were born and raised in Recife’, Brazil. Thing is, my mom was a stickler for grammar while my dyslexic self in forth grade dreamed of never having to read again! This is why I majored in English, by far my worst subject, in college: Mom loved the spoken word and fascinated my childhood with “the reason why” lectures.
OOkaay, then, this post has little to do with the reason why except there are good reasons Pelosi tore up trump’s State of the Union speech. It wasn’t shocking that trump spoke in misleading truths or with lies during his State of the Union (in his mind) speech; heck, trump has lied continuously to the American people since before his election! No, it was the fact no one could call trump out during his speech of lies that led to the shredding of the speech paper. It’s true, some have suggested that action was a waste of other wise good sheets of toilet paper, (really?Kinda rough, right?) but I think the moment just got too bizarre for even the mild mannered Pelsoi to tolerate.
So much about trump is hard to tolerate. I know his best points, his lying, cheating (Gosh even at his golf scores!), stealing—taking credit for things he never did—woman mongering, hateful speech can be easily overlooked by the dead, but his agenda so hell bent to destroy our environment, middle class, minorities of all kinds, any sort of decorum while sitting as President, his total dysfunction when it comes to managing American International affairs and pure lack of elementary knowledge of history, speech and geography pushes any size envelope when it comes to having tolerance for this individual. And we should not.
Hitler’s party started before he was once jailed in 1924 because he was a radical and considered dangerous to society…..He took complete control in 1933 and it took the world to defeat him in 1945…so , in all, Hitler began and lasted almost 21 years…..so, yes, this outlandish party of trump surge to power without regard for human life or for the good of America may take as long to purge from our lives as it did for the world to get rid of Hitler. However, the memory of trump and what he and his followers have done may never end.
About the only difference between Hitler’s time and now is that no one can say, ever, that they didn’t know what trump had done, was doing or plans to do. We have 24/7 instant access to news that floods our lives with awareness. Everyone knows DeVos is selling kids after they’ve been separated from families at the boarder through adoption agencies she is connected to. Everyone knows the Russians have bailed trump out of bankruptcy in the past and the Saudis have twice…so the Saudi’s get to kill a journalist. We even all know how many times trump lies per week,,, even per day. Most understand 19 women who clam trump assaulted them aren’t lying… and we have the tape everyone heard with trump saying how he grabs pussy and tried to fuc* a married woman for fun.
We all know trump is a low life who mocks even the disabled.
No, trump may be like Hitler when compared in history, but the people who follow trump won’t be compared to those who may not have known about the concentration camps Hitler ran… We all know what trump has done, is doing and plans to do; you know.
Let’s face it: trump not only rapes girl’s underage, those who have testified to this with a witness, but he also rapes America. He rapes our heritage, our standing in the world, our beacon of hope for freedom, our national parks, our indigenous peoples, America’s financial security, America’s national security and all the GOP party members who just voted to look the other way when it comes to his crimes against our Constitution.
There is no way a sitting President is allowed to pressure a foreign government to slander his political opponent. Trump did this; we all know it.
Thing is, one month after Kavanaugh was rammed thru into the Supreme Court the GOP lost 33 seats and the majority in the House of Representatives. The reason why, whoops, sorry mom, is we all knew that was a bull shit call by the GOP….This pass given to trump on his crimes are the same, and the GOP won’t get away with it in 2020…not if people choose to look not the other way but at what is truly happening. Not if people hate Hitler’s history on this planet. It’s time for America to remember history and to stop it from repeating…
Vote the GOP out in 2020; crush trump at the polls.
America is good; trump isn’t. The reason we must do this is the why.
franque23
How much does an elephant never forget?
There’s so much we don’t know. And so much to know about the things we do. Life seems an endless theater of possibility. And with every turn we take, or inquisitive glance we make, more paths become visible, more doors of opportunity swing wide.
Elephants are always said to be, ‘In the room,’ but even when over-looked as temporarily invisible, elephants are always in our world. And there’s so much the world’s largest land animals have to show us if we might notice. For one, their babies can weigh up to 260 pounds! How’s that for a healthy birth weight!
This one is keeping a snoot above….
Perhaps, a more notable case in point on elephants evolves from a single news story of a man once known as the, elephant whisper.
Lawrence Anthony befriended a herd of elephant in Thula Thula, a wildlife preserve in South Africa, a herd known at the time to be a rogue, wild, unpredictable lot of elephants, the kind many who lived near them hoped would be culled from existence.
Of course, there’s an amazing story to tell about the relationship between Lawrence and this herd of elephants. Unfortunately, this unfathomable happenstance between the elephants and Lawrence extends well beyond their interaction in life, and perhaps it was his death that concretely defined their relationship and can teach us so much.
To step back in time….
Maybe before this baby was born….or these two..
.
(There’s nothin’ like tangling with siblings.)
To begin, Lawrence met this rag-tag romping herd of elephants with the patience of, well, an elephant. His cool head and calming demeanor eventual won over the misfit tribe of elephants and soon the man and group became fast friends.*( Please enjoy this video) The years passed with this herd of elephants visiting Lawrence at his dwelling from time to time, not every day, not every month, sometimes not even every year, but often enough to keep the lines of communication well established—no one needed introductions. New elephant babies were a joy to see and long-nose trumpets blared the herd’s joy to share when the occasion arose.
Many elephants live approximately 60 to 70 years so maybe their internal clock beats much as our own. For whatever reason, this story came to pass…
Lawrence Anthony died March 2, 2012, in Johannesburg of a heart attack at age 61 after lecturing and touring the world over on behalf of elephants.** He hadn’t seen his herd of big footed, up to 13,000 pound, long nosed friends in about a year and half when he died. However, two days after Lawrence’s death, as pictured below, a herd of 31 elephants came marching up to Lawrence’s home to mourn their loss. They had traveled up to 12 hours to make the trip. You might want to read the above sentence again.
This is really a picture of 31 elephants arriving two days after Lawrence Anthony’s death. They had walked for 12 hours.
They never forgot.
Elephants know the beginnings have endings. But how or why do they seem to know so much? This link gets into the brain of elephants and more—***
Is it necessary to point out elephants don’t use phones, faxes, twitter, e-mail, no, not even snail—mail! The elephants just knew, they just knew when Lawrence had died and did so while being a great distance apart from the man!?!? You see? The elephants not only knew their friend had died and ALSO came to show their respects, but they indeed showed us all there is a web between Life Mankind seems most often not to see, or realize, or should we say respect? The elephants felt that web of connection, the fiber of our lives among all living things and proved they were in touch on a grand scheme, on a plain that exists as one that remains hidden from most of us due to, I think, distractions that fill our lives on a daily basis.
Zen will offer that we be here now—like this elephant seems to be.
It’s important for us to focus. Maybe how we meet Life determines how it sits within us, or, on us?
Thing is, maybe Life is much more than now, but forever, for everything all at once, for all that goes beyond our current understanding though it remains the true elephant in our world. I suspect this understanding between all of Life goes on between Man, Animal, Plant and Mineral. When we realize this connection, will we will find new pathways to peace?
Sometimes, it does take a big person, a huge personality or strong person to lead the way. If only we could let the world’s largest land animal show the way so that we might stand in their shadow and follow.
Young or old, does the elephant somehow know more than you and I? Does the elephant know what Mankind seems to forget?
Franque23 loves life.
*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Yap6r7pSGU
**http://delightmakers.com/news/wild-elephants-gather-inexplicably-mourn-death-of-elephant-whisperer/
***”However, their (BRAINS) are arranged differently. Human pyramidal neurons tend to have a large number of shorter branches, whereas the elephant has a smaller number of much longer branches. Whereas primate pyramidal neurons seem to be designed for sampling very precise input, the dendritic configuration in elephants suggests that their dendrites sample a very broad array of input from multiple sources.
Taken together, these morphological characteristics suggest that neurons in the elephant cortex may synthesize a wider variety of input than the cortical neurons in other mammals.
“In terms of cognition, my colleagues and I believe that the integrative cortical circuitry in the elephant supports the idea that they are essentially contemplative animals. Primate brains, by comparison, seem specialized for rapid decision-making and quick reactions to environmental stimuli.
Indeed, even the brains of individuals within a given species are unique. However, the special morphology of elephant cortical neurons reminds us that there is certainly more than one way to wire an intelligent brain. Lawerence Anthony is an author of three books about elephants, a person who traveled during his life around the globe speaking about elephants to anyone who wanted to listen. If not a ‘whisperer’ to elephants, he was a true friend to the species in both word and deed……
There are two elephant herds at Thula Thula. According to his son Dylan, both arrived at the Anthony family compound shortly after Anthony’s death.
“They had not visited the house for a year and a half and it must have taken them about 12 hours to make the journey,” Dylan is quoted in various local news accounts. “The first herd arrived on Sunday and the second herd, a day later. They all hung around for about two days before making their way back into the bush.”
It’s simple in the most complex way. How something tied within can run from the tongue or written word to announce its preponderance is miraculous. But, again, words don’t work; I just have to try—
I’d been walking through a forest; walking forever…
I often walked to familiar places though no walk could be the same. No, rather than feeling redundant, each walk resembled a reoccurring dream that shifted ever so slightly in my head. Once, when I was young, the leaves held a glistening magic beyond compare and the stars above sang love songs. Breath came and went with a whisper of steam in the winter or without a notice in summer. A night bird’s call held a special treat for every step of the way.
The moon would rise—that was in the air, too.
Places presented a universe of change but that variance was apart from the heart of the matter. What was the heart of the matter? When I walked as a boy and walk now as a man there is one secret, one truth I print with each step I take. When any of us walk, we are searching for what we hope to find—this is the heart of the matter.
One day, I began the walk I had to make.
There were bushes, sticks and vines to push aside as I walked. Streaks of red and yellow stretched across a light-blue sky softly lit to a sun-licked amber hue I’d never seen before. The landscape seemed a mirror that span before me but I couldn’t see myself in it, and certainly not within the darkened places or behind the boulders that lay ahead.
Quiet noise drummed my ears to the beat of my heart. One foot-fall followed the other and mashed a fresh scent of pine from the needles that had fallen from the trees above. A breeze passed as a tap on the shoulder that turned me around again to see if someone was there.
I was alone.
Oh, I loved the twists and turns of life. The ups and downs of Life, the rag-tag moments of laughter that still echoed in my head and tears spent that had run dry to leave a trace upon my cheek were never to forget. I held my life near and dear; it was all I really had. I bent down to pick up a pine cone, took a breath and then moved on beneath a glorious sun-set sky.
There, in an instant quicker than a slip, a clearing appeared. This flowing, smoothly swept, warm as a blanket on a winter’s night place had a voice of its own set in a timbre no ear could deny. Its mysterious opening abruptly ended the maze of life I’d struggled to pass; it was an awakening of peace within my weary heart. The place turned my head, lifted my steps and lightened the tightness in my back. I turned around to make sure I’d left the brambles behind and come to a new place, a new clearing with only the truest of view.
The time turned to rest. All my effort, all the decisions random or not, all the painful struggle and haphazard joys of my journey had led me to this place.
It was amazing.
I’d found my way home to a place I’d never seen before.
Somehow, my heart just knew.
How does the heart know so much? How can the thing we always feel but never touch know the way to travel, the places to see and the people to hold? Love, the heart’s messenger, is startling when it comes whether that’s in the first minute when meeting someone or not. Mellowed by time or arriving in a split second, Love opens the flood gates of the soul so that we pour into a sea of understanding. Some people say being in love is like floating on air. Maybe. To me, Love is finding the ground I was meant to stand upon.
Of course, the clearing I found that day forty-seven years ago was you. I’m so thankful you had made it.
Thank you for being you.
This is the heart of the matter.
Franque23
To Dale, my wife of 40 years of marriage as of 1/3/2020-
(Click the pic for a larger view)
My Mom and Dad visited Lake Bonaparte often before and after I was born. Luckily, they got to spend about 30 summers at the lake after their employment days. Talk about memories!?!? I wonder which ones mom recalled most of all during her last summer on Bonaparte?
You know they had fun! (With our next door neighbors, the Sherman’s.)
My Dad trained for WW II at Fort drum and rested many days long after sitting across the lake from that training Camp’s location. He loved to see the planes fly over.
This is an old map of Bonaparte…(our camp built in 1970 isn’t listed.)
There are so many beautiful days at Bonaparte.
(Picture taken from our overlook of Porter’s Bay)
And cool summer nights to enjoy with family and friends.
(In the Muse Lodge porch camp)
Or stay warm by a fire…
We love our fireplace—overhead fans above the flames circulate the warm air.
Lake Bonaparte has a knack for getting cold. The one span of three days I visited during mid January the night temperatures hit 40 below twice and then warmed up to 30 below.
Even while casting images in a glass window while overlooking Nagasaki, Japan, the memory of daytime snows falling on our daughter in Natural Bridge, New York, stayed with me.
And speaking of fires by the lake on those skinny dippin’ nights—what was I thinking!?!?! I’ve looked at this ol’ timey picture by Priests for years and years,
AND, mom snagged this Northern right in our bay! Like how many teeth of a good reason is this not to skinny dip?
Forgive me if you know, but I feel we all should know Cody got bit on the leg in front of the Sherman Boat house in Porter’s bay (broad daylight) by a bass so large he had to go to the hospital! Just maybe, it was this fish I caught about 15 years later?
Fishin’ at the lake. Love it!
Perhaps many don’t know my brother Buz, (Ed Franquemont) helped build the first house on Round Island? He owned Bare Bones, a building outfit.
Here’s the team that built that house….!
My brother, Ed. (This shot taken elsewhere)
However, this shot below is on location on Birch Island where my ex-brother-in-law, Paul Doherty, lived with Meta for 30 plus years. My niece’s husband, Craig Carlock, was in charge of nibbling down trees to clear for pathways on that Island long ago and everyone should know. We still call him ‘Beaver Man,’ though he also does the best drankin’ loon call you’ve ever heard.
This is Craig watching our dog, Shadow, clear 22 feet off our dock going for a ball….and we’ve built that dock again since.
Have you noticed, lake people wave back?
It’s all too much fun! There’s always some to do or think thing about…
Beware of Pirates…..at the lake! Them Morgan clan folk.
I’m thinkin’ even our dog Shadow is looking for fish!
Impossible not to love.
While at the Lake, my sister, Sharon Franquemot, with a book published in nine languages, You Already Know What To Do, remains humble with me about our family’s Kingly Heritage.
(really….our ancestor’s home is below. Karl Eugen ruled as Duke over most of Germany and Southern France in 1750)
So, the thing about visiting this one of five castles Karl Eugen had… sure it’s large but,….it was hard to find the bathroom.
(Karl Eugen’s largest home in Ludwigsburg, Germany)*
Anyway, I take my love for Lake Bonaparte back home to where I work in Florida and share it on bulletins boards at the Headquarter’s branch of the Alachua County Library district….
What a place to know, right? Lake Bonaparte:
Random shot of another bulletin board and one of Dan Franquemont…at the lake. (Muse Lodge)
So much—
Bye for now.
Franque23 loves Lake Bonaparte—The place and people we never forget.
Yep, that’s me. I’m about as conservative as guy can get. This is what got me thinking…..
Just what is conservative about the GOP ‘Conservative’ party?
Does the GOP stand for conserving our drinking water; nope. (Nothing like fracking waste in our water)*
How about our oil supply? Nope. (Let’s use it up.)
Will the GOP conserve our scenic ocean shores and ocean waters? Nope. (Let’s drill and leak huge amounts of oil into the ocean)
How about our money supply? Nope. ( The National debt is growing faster than ever due to tax cuts for the rich)
Is the GOP bent on conserving our National Parks and expansive wetlands and Alaskan vistas? Nope. (We need to drill Alaska, and sacred Native America lands….)
Does the GOP want to safe guard our savings? Nope. (Let’s not regulate the banks. How bad could that be…? See last economic melt down in America that went world wide….)
Does the GOP party hope to conserve basic human rights we all should have when it comes to our bodies and bedrooms? Nope. ( Some GOP controlled states have tried to implement the death penalty for abortions.)
Does the GOP even pretend to want to conserve the integrity of our open and free elections? Nope. (The GOP has constantly voted to block any election reforms and also money for election security)
So what the heck does our so-called conservative party hope to preserve in our society? (The only thing I can come up with is trump’s shorts!)
If you think for one minute I favor drillin’ the hell out of our National Parks and pristine ocean shore lines you’ve got the wrong cookie! That’s madness and about as radical as any position could get! Heck no, I’m going to conserve what we have as a country! My dad and mom taught me to save what I had, not waste my holdings until they spoil.
Those liberal drill-baby-drill everything in sight GOP radicals are off their rocker. Oddly, don’t they call themselves conservatives? I need to ‘dig’ deeper to figure this out.
When it comes to taxes, the last thing I want to do is give our hard earned tax dollars back to those so rich they don’t notice the difference! Again, freely giving back what our Country has earned in taxes is sheer stupidity. Who the heck gives away free money to the super rich!?!?!? Really? How liberal! No, I was taught to save what you’ve earned and America needs to conserve it’s money supply and stop wasting it on the rich! Dishing out our taxes to the rich hardly seems ‘conservative’ to me. What do you think?
Those aloof wigged out GOP liberal representatives that cheer when America loses tax funding to the super rich are out of their minds! This is my bottom line.
The last thing I want to do is waste resources! Ye Gods! Those dang so-called GOPer’s—really liberals in sheep’s clothing—don’t know how to save anything!
If everything is running on oil why use ours up when we have a way to conserve it by developing solar power and further wind and other renewable energy development!! It’s as if these ‘liberal representatives’—called GOP— who want to drill America to pieces and give our Government’s money back to those who don’t need it can’t wait to open up our piggy bank of oil and spread it all around the place until it’s gone! There’s a really dumb idea: “Hey, we got power let’s use it all up!” This is a perfect idea if you’re some non-conservative type block-head who doesn’t believe in saving what we have!
The entire jargon of American politics has turned on its head.
Today, the so-called liberals want to save everything they can as if for a rainy day and the so-called conservatives can’t wait to consume everything in sight until it’s gone!
As a true liberal I’m so conservative, in fact, I want to save our National Parks, our energy resources, our tax dollars and even our ocean shorelines! Heck, I’m a ‘tight-fist,’ and what I have I want to keep.
Spending money, wasting National lands, giving money away to the rich, none of this is conservative: it’s as radical as it can be!
When it comes to guns, the last thing this conservative wants is for some punk kid getting waxed on pills or liquor while holding. Yeah, no, we good folk don’t need to hide what we’re holding and our intentions as well. This is not a radical thought. What’s radical is to think every Tom, Dick and even if he’s hairy can go across state lines concealing weapons while violating some State’s law barring concealed weapons! Holy Moly!!!
Yes, I’m for State’s Rights as much as possible while maintaining a Union. And, while we’re talking about State Rights, how about the ‘state of the body rights?’ When in the world did it get conservative to tell us good people what we can or not do with our own bodies!! Get the State and Federal government out of our bedrooms and out of our bodies—thank you very much. Only pure, radical people would want to tell others what they can and can’t do with their own personal life and bodies for that matter. Hardly is this intrusion in the quality of our lives a conservative view point: btw, doesn’t this type of intrusion qualify as a fascism?
You may call yourself a Republican and think yourself a conservative but nothing could be further from the truth if you support the GOP and trump.
The GOP has entrenched itself in a pile of bullshit they label conservatism when, in fact, they are a radical slobbering gang in cahoots with CRAZY….I see a bunch of numb-nuts who can’t identity a conservative way of thinking to save themselves.
Take this to the bank for me: the GOP is anything but conservative.
Thing is, maybe the bank isn’t such a great idea since, you guessed it, those radical GOP people think banks shouldn’t be regulated but cut loose to spend as they like in Vegas and lose our savings but only, mind you, at our loss.
The Liberals now-a-days are America’s conservatives and the GOP are those who think trump tweeting 101 times yesterday is just what a prez should be doing. There’s a radical thought: let’s have our president on twitter all day. Perfect, right? Wrong!
Yep–I’m as conservative as it gets. I want to perverse America’s resources, regulations for clean water, air, rivers and shore lines, preserve our Parks and National vistas, our standing in world-wide organizations and fiscal soundness. And it sure would be nice too to make American Farming and industry great again,too… If it weren’t for those darn tariffs some radical thought up.
BTW, God Bless our FBI, our CIA and intelligence people who safe guard the U.S. world-wide. If not impeded and slandered by 45 they might be able to do their jobs as well as they did before this disastrous administration . I can’t wait for 46….Make it happen in 2020 you true Conservatives out there! Bring back those who really want to save America.
Franque23
*https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/fracking-can-contaminate-drinking-water/
Peace….
My daughter is involved with a world-wide communication between groups who intend to better the world in varying ways.* It’s sorta like an umbrella for every organization that ever had a good thought for mankind. Within this group, there is this link with the very short film found below. It’s amazing to see and listen to.
It’s a sort message; one of peace, enlightenment and hope for all Mankind. What could be better than this? It’s a great time for all of us to step back and give thanks…and thank you for reading my glob and for being you! Cheers.
The full credits are included within the film…Oh, I so hope you watch this, investigated the other link below and share with friends. Peace is ours to create.
Enjoy
Franque23
(A Morgan-Franquemont reunion about 1951) Click the pic for a larger view.
Maybe I thought my sister might drop me—why else would I be crying?—pretty sure that’s my best diaper.
Remember being young for just a minute. There’s no hassle waiting to destroy the next minute, no bus, train, plane to catch or deadline to meet. No, you’re just young. Your skin is soft without a blemish and your hair shines like grass after a brief rain. You’ve learned to comb your hair but your not exactly sure why you do it. There’s no need to worry and everything feels right once your parents are home; the fire place sets itself and your dog is always fed. T.V. goes on past bedtime but you’ve seen everything you wanted to see and the day has come and gone like any other. Dreams come and go like the wind without cause or problem or forecast direction.
Everything just is. Do you remember now? Shoes or belts seemed useless unless you were playing dress-up.
(Our Son-in-Law running after his son.)
The world is an empty beach to run with dad close behind.
The sky is endless and full of mysterious clouds to watch as they drift by.
(My cousin’s son, Ross Franquemont, takes a selfie as he flies by the Northern lights in his U-2 plane.)
Remember the first time you stared at the clear night sky and realized there were more and more stars to see up above as your eyes adjusted to the blackness. Remember the morning dew on your bare feet. This is about the time you discovered ,’brain-freeze.’
There was so much to take in and share with your cousins and friends.
A la speed-o suit; that’s me.(Morgan dock at Lake Bonaparte-about 1956) ( AND… the person who edits this glob weekly* asked a good question: why am I the only one wearing a bathing suit? The dock is clearly wet?!?! Hmmmm)
Days come as easily as picking up a pencil. The scribbling on the paper wears a smile and it seems your masterpiece is, in fact, a heroic depiction of something meaningful to older folks—it’s some miraculous sketch of objects you’ve yet to see or a panorama of places everyone hopes to go. It’s good to be loved. Daylight loves you; nighttime is a blanket. The rain sounds loud upon the window pane and snow dances in street lights with winds that come from the moon you can’t see. The pets always sleep on your bed.
Everyday is safe. Every night is cozy. You get along with other kids, even with those who seem so different!
Being young harbors within it a certain kind of peaceful hope.
(View of Lake Bonaparte from our ‘half-way’ dock.)
Without notice, you assume the older folks will always be here.
Life seems a garden of acceptance.
You can wear any hat you want when you’re young!
(And on Youth Services hat day because we could.)
Routines begin to form. If it rains, you stay inside. If it is sunny you go out. Parents rush off in the morning and come back later after your nap but you’re never really alone, not that you’ve noticed or ever thought about. Tooth brushing is a daily important thing, not the best, but you watch as globs of toothpaste slide out of your mouth onto your cheeks around your out-stretched smile in the mirror and it tastes sweet. Tooth paste types change from being white, then striped, sometimes dotted or with a hidden line of stuff surrounded by white. You just do it.
You think broccoli may kill you but not if you eat just a bit. Vegetables are stupid but they’re the gateway to dessert.
I once thought food first filled my feet, legs, then my middle section, then my arms and finally my head: that’s when I was full. I made sure to save room in my head for dessert. People talked over dinner but mostly we all came to eat. Someone would say something funny and we’d laugh but always, without fail, my dog’s head was near my lap, soft, warm, nudging my legs occasionally for that bit of something I didn’t care to eat or wanted to slip him anyway.
I hadn’t a care when I was young. Music filled the air and dancing had no steps, just movement.
Of course, I learned later in life that my life was not a universal experience. No, while I was in college there were children in Vietnam who awoke in the night to run out of their homes in fear Napalm bombs would hit their homes and burn them alive as it had some of their friends the night before. And other children weren’t lucky enough to live at all but died without ever knowing what a refrigerator was. Somehow, learning the truthful horror about some life on earth during my twenties put much of my childhood experience in a time-capsule that I cemented in a corner stone of myself. My memories were too good sometimes to be shown in the face of another’s reality.
I’d been given so much and never knew. I’d been raised in the midst of modest but successful homes full of choices, flavors, designs, music, friends and surrounded by mowed yards and shoveled driveways all owned by smiling people.
If you’re life was like mine, it’s okay. It’s okay that we may have been born some of the luckiest people on earth. Thing is, now it’s our time to give thanks. Now, if we haven’t already, it’s time for us to payback life anyway we can. We have to fight for what we believe is best for this earth and give thanks to those who died for our right to do so. If we have something to teach, we have to do it. I think Thanksgiving has never seen a generation who has more to be thankful for than mine. Now, more than ever before, it’s time for my generation to stand up and speak about what we feel is right.
My generation owes the World a difference.
We can do this. It’s time to be young again, strong, wide-eyed, questioning and full of spirit. Spirits don’t age like our bodies, not really. Look in that mirror as you did as a child and see your face, see your smile and remember who you really are. You’re one who can make a difference.
We all can get along; we have to get along and help each other prosper—this is our task and purpose.
Franque23—Happy Thanksgiving.
*Barbara Mullenix gets all the credit for anything spelled correctly in these globs and none of the blame for all the rest….
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 future.
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 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/
