It started about five months ago when the decision was made to re-do our puppet show production of Rumpelstiltskin. It had been about six years since we last performed this adaptation I was happy to write, direct and play a part in. This time frame means the audience has turned over and a new set of children are mostly not using walking feet in our department.  It’s all good!

After organizing the scripts, some remaining props and some pieces of the set, it was time to begin planning the bulletin board that would advertise the puppet show. Building this bulletin board had a time frame that slipped in between two twenty foot long displays I was to do for our story hour room and the puppet show itself that will take place two weeks from now. In all, the displays and show will cap-off 5 months of planning on my part. The board is up tonight but for a front runner frame at its base so tomorrow starts the work on the puppet set and props.

Flat out, I love design work, crafts, art, writing, directing and playing puppet show parts and working puppets. So, I’ve been busy, yes, but it has also been rewarding to this date.

Here’s the bulletin board…what fun….In all this board took about 14 hours of work.

Maybe a better view of my mascot, the squirrel….

I have a work order in for a bigger idea on this board but don’t know if it will get done. I wanted a slow turning motor attached to back of spinning wheel so it might rotate around about once per minute…..we’ll see.  I’ll have to deconstruct some of the board if I get the motor… but it’s all fun…rumpling paper and supplies together is a big part of the effort and enjoyment.

In case you missed last week’s glob, here’s a shot of one twenty foot board finished last week.

I hope you days are full of happy times, fun times and full of meaningful events.

cheers!

If only I had his spinning wheel!

Franque23

 

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You know I’m loving life in Florida. This fall, winter and spring have reverted to mostly weather patterns we used to always have in the past years. This has brought about a few oddities to the growing  garden.

This shot is about two weeks old, the lettuce and green beans are done, this accounts for the large places of only mulch.

Here you can clearly see a collard greens and several kale plants. Thing is, these have been growing since last August and have yielded since Oct, 1st! The relatively mild winter allowed them to keep on trucking leafy veggies to our kitchen through the winter and spring. We had, collards, lettuce, kale, too much eggplants(they too have been growing since last year) herbs-thyme,rosemary, sage(huge plant) basil,dill- green beans, yellow squash, zucchini,, potatoes, yellow peppers, green peppers, cherry and full size tomatoes. For the tomatoes only, I do use a green light organic spray to discourage the stink bug stings…

The pineapples have a hard time taking any weather below 40 degrees,,, but with occasional coverings, they made it thru  the winter months and I’ve four coming on strong with fruit. The other 26 pineapples all look great and several others will bear this summer as well.

This gardenia and plumbago make a good side-by-side match for our house front. The gardenia is about seven feet tall and around ten feet wide. More than 300 blooms hang this year, and all about within two weeks of one another. We cut many for house use…fun stuff.

On the other side of the walk from the gardenia is our bird bath. I like this shot, full of shrimp plant blooms, four o’clocks and an odd bloom like an iris….thing is, the bird bath reflects the light coming through the Old Man’s Beard tree that stands high above….

Out back in the pineapple garden stands a potted indigenous rose.

The pool walking steps divides the rose from our Mexican tulip hedge.

I’m busy at work putting up two, twenty foot long displays about medieval days and Summer Reading at our Library. We all had fun in our department selecting pieces to color or design as we liked… Then, I set the Background up and placed the pieces…The boarder isn’t done at the time of this shot, and the other board not up yet… both are finished now….

Here’s the full view…

So yes, my wife and I are loving the greens, the tomatoes, the birds, flowers and wild doggie, Shadow,  who follows us everywhere!

I hope your seasons have been excellent this past year! And, get ready—we’re gonna melt down here this summer. This week we have 99 at least for 5 days in a row during late May.. Wow.

Of course, this plant gets to have the last word: peace.

Cheers

Franque23


People often say, “It’s a zoo out there!”  And though people can be crazy, the pace hectic, traffic horrendous, the hour late and manners dead on arrival, zoo is the wrong word to use to describe the chaos that is our lives. Zoo’s are full of caged animals, a far cry from the free animal world or that of most people. Thing is, in the usage of the word lies an undermining human trait many of us exhibit. We seem to hold little regard for wild species when it can be mowed over by that slippery-slope-of-a-term development. Developers have an unhinged sense of the word ,’Progress,’ when it comes to the fate of anything but money. This is why so many species have vanished from the face of this earth in the recent past. “It could be a scary future indeed, with as many as 30 to 50 percent of all species possibly heading toward extinction by mid-century. “* It’s all sad, and the method and madness of our growth as a species reveals a strong vein of stupidity in our making.

The signs of human stupidity are everywhere we look; there are so many it’s not possible to list them.  Example:  Florida’s developers, county planners and politicians ignoramus thinking since 1945 when it comes to Florida’s entire east coast line. Welcome to a pile of soggy, tilted thinking. Hotels go up on the sea-side of major roads that block the view and devalue buildings on the west side of the same road! It’s great for the buildings built on the east shore side of the road! But, is it!! What we have in Florida are high priced hotels that have replaced the entire sand dune network of a natural beach that is inherently designed to provide the land safety during hurricanes and major storms.  Who cares, right? Wrong. The result is major financial loss from hurricanes that in turn raises insurance rates for EVERY Floridian whether they live on the shore or not! More, If Florida had only developed on the west side of major sea-side roads, those building would incur much less loss during storms AND provide a World-Renown view of a vast sand dune expanse people would pay zillions to see and experience! Just imagine Florida’s entire east coast line being a natural beach, full of dunes, sea oats, sea grape vines, birds, wild life. See? Ka-ching!  It’s a no-brianer no one could envision. Kaput goes the register.

But let’s move on…wow….Why would people be feeding gators by the side of the road on Payne’s Prairie in Florida?!?!?

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**This is a current picture taken at the prairie where some people fish and others, well, I guess, feed gators? Peek-a-boo….I’ve got an idea; run away! This is a huge gator. The gator’s head may be eight times the size of whatever you’re thinkin’.

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**Okay, this isn’t enlarged for viewing. The estimate is a 12 foot or bigger gator. Again, recent picture from road embankment at Payne’s prairie where people stand and fish.

You have to wonder. Question: is the lack of knowledge a form of stupidity, the quest of laziness, the curse of low-curiosity or just bad luck?

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Sometimes, I think the term, ‘Human Intelligence,’ is much like the term, jumbo shrimp! It’s an oxymoron for the human species.

I once owned a leather shop inside the Silver Springs attraction and watched some tourist stand about fifteen feet from a gator who was sunning as they took pictures. None of them knew gators can run 30 miles per hour for short periods (bursts) of time.  If any had asked me, I would have told them their lives were in danger. NO one did since, I guess, the entire world must be a zoo to them? Gators bite fast, roll the victim, and drag—say something like deer—back into water to drown them all the time. Have you ever seen a deer run? Still, I’ve seen enough of what’s left of deer carcass along swamp shorelines to know many deer wish they’d been a bit faster. And, gators can spring out of the water a good ways….While fishing a local swamp my buddy and I were admiring the plumage on a wild bird resting on the water… It took off but a gator came from beneath it and lifted a good six feet out of the water and nailed the bird mid-air….The huge gator splashed back down and only feathers were left to float in the air.

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Believe it or not, gators have the strike of a snake.

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Parts of the world are still not zoos, and it’s good to know. I always root for wild life, and often question the brights of many of our fellow humans, myself included. Remember, I was fishing in a ten foot John Boat watching a huge gator bust out of the water my boat was floating on.  I need to think about something else. I’m outta here. See ya!

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Franque23

*https://www.biologicaldiversity.org/programs/biodiversity/elements_of_biodiversity/extinction_crisis/

** these two pictures taken by Jan Johnson as posted on a Micanopy web-site. Thanks, Jan!


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I hate to think about those gone, but love to do it just the same.

The old pictures come out and there they are, mother’s eyes shining above knowing smiles and all so comforting over a distance too great to fathom. The memories of people flood a mind and it’s easy to wish they might come back as the ocean tide so we could talk with them again, if just for a minute—some would say, if just for a second.

Thanks Mom, for holding me on my first day home. You did a great job.

It doesn’t feel exactly right to have Mom gone, not living here anymore, not anywhere to be found, and not like that missing shoe worn so well, but like an eternity of holding, helping, a loving so unique that she had no business to leave. Where’s that lap, that knee, the one who tied my shoes while assuring me I was doing fine. The smell of hot apple pies, cakes, and always the lemon cookies and the music that filled our household I’d mistakenly imagined was found in any home, where did it all go? How could so much have vanished as I grew?

Sometimes, I think I fished Lake Bonaparte to see the joy in my Mother’s eyes over the catch. It’s hard to give enough back to a mom for all she has done.

The day I cried over a sink, sobbing without defense and Mom pat my back, “She broke your heart…” It was good to know Mom understood. In an instant, I was not alone, but on a journey with my closest companion, the one who first helped me see, to first understand and think that another day would be so much better. The heart is such an easy target, but mom’s know how to repair them; always.  Mom’s own the master’s touch. Mom’s bring forth and retain the spiritual essence of their children. A good mom paints by word and deed a portrait of Life their child is able to enter and understand.

Mom’s are the garden of life.

There are very few things in life a person can gain that can’t be taken away. Educational degrees are one of them. Jobs, lovers, spouses, homes, money, social standing, friends, ideas, opinions, looks and health, all of these can be taken in an instant. Mom’s words, her leadership, her advice and love never leave a child no matter if they were good or bad; right or wrong. No, everything about a mom stays inside each of us who have experienced theirs.

We were so happy to give Mom a Granddaughter.

Mom’s own a lock box in the heart; the child has the only key to it. So, Motherhood is the hardest and most meaningful of all jobs and the most enduring. There is no end to a mother’s love. Death can not claim to own that love. Maybe, this is why pictures of moms means so much to us.

You’d seen and done so much before I was ever born, Mom. Now, I wish I’d asked one million questions, no, more.

An old, worn out picture of mother catches it all in a single view. She has passed, but there she is in the picture to see in full view.

The experience of seeing mom again in pictures is just like her love, that endless gift of the heart from mother to each of us never lets go. The picture you can see, the love you feel forever.

Have you ever touched a picture to see if you could feel mom touching you back? I have.

Happy Mother’s day

Franque23

 


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One of the first things you learn in library service is to ask good questions—this can save so much time when it comes to helping patrons. So, in the spirit of helping America, here’s 30 questions I wish someone would ask before the press core is drummed out of the White House.

Trump golfs so much, why is he fat?

If Trump has nothing to hide, why does he hide everything?

Why does Trump lie so much?

Will Trump be arrested before or after he is out of Office?

Why didn’t Trump want to have fun at making money rather than losing it?

Why has Trump gone bankrupt so many times?

What is Trump’s waist size?

Did Trump get a STD from sleeping with a porn star without using a rubber?

Has Trump stopped grabbing women by the pussy?

Why Is Trump in love with Putin?

Is Trump really bisexual?

Why did Trump tell his first medical physician what to write in his health exam medical report?

Why is Trump a bad speller?

Is Trump stupid like people say?

What were Trump’s real grades in college and why does he keep them secret?

Why has Trump and his businesses been sued over 3500 times?

Did Trump really kiss a man?

Is it true that Trump was caught in a bathroom stall with another man?

Why did Trump make-up fake news?

Why did Trump call radio shows and pretend to be someone else?

Why doesn’t Trump believe in God?

Why does Trump live in fear?

Why does Trump hire so many foreigners?

Why is Trump so over weight?

Trump gives athletes fast food hamburgers; is this what he likes to suck down his pie hole?

Why does Trump cry so often?

How much money has Trump stolen from his 2016 campaign funds?

Why was Trump afraid to fight in our military?

Does anyone know why Trump hasn’t been arrested?

Why hasn’t Trump been arrested?

 

Just asking to help clear the air…

Franque23

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

why is a cheap SOB to sport athletes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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The reason few people talk about this movie’s end is no one knows what the hell happened! That’s about it for my spoiler alert but for anything that could’ve happened did, and still might. Christians consider Death the ultimate beginning while Hinduism, Jainism, Buddhism, and Sikhism (and other religions)think we come back around over and over again. If you ask me, this movie was produced by all of these religions during an all night drankin’ party. Whatever, I recommend the party and the viewing. But what’s this all about a “weird loop”?

The Weird Loop.

Okay, the Weird Loop as promised, but first about, Stan Lee. To me, there are few people in the history of Mankind who have touched as many lives as this comic book creator, writer, editor and publisher. Along with the help of two associates, Stan Lee gave the world superheroes—Spiderman, X-men, Iron Man, Thor, the Hulk, the Fantastic four, Black Panther, Daredevil, Doctor Strange, Scarlet Witch and lovable the Ant-man. There are a few generations of kids who have grown up believing they might be as great as these superheroes in their own way! Really, only the entire network of Disney can rival the success and influence of Stan Lee when it comes to his impact upon our children and, I think, society. These superhero’s have woven our dreams, our hopes and aspirations.

It’s also important to note with regard to my interest, I spent the past 13 years distributing the comics throughout our Library district on a monthly basis, as well as shelving and maintaining this collection at the branch where I work. So call me dialed up when it comes to Marvel superheroes.

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Well, almost randomly, by luck, my wife and I planned to go see the new Avenger movie this afternoon along with my wife’s half-brother, Jim, and his wife, Cindy.  By the end of this movie, I’d guess most viewers were left with a euphoric smile on their face and a body that felt like a truck had run it over. I was no different as we waited for Jim to pull his car up to the curb to save us a dash through the rain.  We shared idle chat while waiting.

“I  met and knew, Stan Lee.” I heard the words but thought it must have been a thunder-clap. Did Cindy, a person I’ve known for over thirty years, just casually mention she knew Stan Lee?

“Wait! What? (Kapow!) You’ve met Stan Lee?” This was rattlin’ my Skrull!  Holy Kree! I’m the one who’s met by chance or otherwise a plethora of famous people, not Cindy!* “What the hell?” My open mouth caught rain drops.

“Yes. I was in college in the 70’s at New Port, California and took class from, Professor Townsend, author of, Boundaries.” Quiet Cindy continued. “They threw a dress-up, surprise party for Professor Townsend for his birthday. Jim and I dressed up as(something like Romeo and Juliette—mind you, my mind was blown) and in walks Stan Lee!”

Oh how I wished I’d asked what Stan Lee had dressed up as…can you imagine?!?!?

“So wait, the real Stan Lee was in the room, at the party and stuff?”

Cindy casually went on not realizing I’d melted into the side-walk of alternative reality. “He stayed all night, laughing, sharing jokes and other stuff…”( “Other stuff,’ is code for whatnot’s at parties in the 70’S.)

Okay, ‘I’m standing next to someone who has spent time with one of the most influential people on earth and I never knew it until now?’ Cindy kept talking about the party but I was wondering how I might rub my shoulder into hers! When would Uatu arrive and cease my endless watch for reality? I was in hyperspace warp yelling, “You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry!”

I pretty much blabbed gibberish(my readers are nodding, Yes!)the rest of the drive home. I thought about jumping on the car hood and yelling, “Why did I not know this, Cindy!!!” Zap! Blam! Would I ever piece together what was left of my former self?

Nope.

But then I remembered: “Just because someone stumbles and loses their path, doesn’t mean they can’t be saved.” I had to re-group and note,, ‘you can find friends in super unexpected places.’ Cindy’s experience and interest in Marvel characters had come from ,’left field.’ Her story had only proved, ‘The door is more open than it appears…we can walk through it, and sometimes run.’***

Have a super flight through Life….

Franque23

*Here’s the deal on some of my history.  Seeing the Avenger’s: End Game with someone who knew Stan Lee without me knowing it is much like the rest of my life. For one example, walking randomly down East Hampton’s Beach with a  new gal friend and having Paul McCartney drive a dune buggy up with his wife and say hello. Of course , it turned out my new gal-friend was seeing Simon….so much more of this in my life, but that’s for another glob.

** https://www.amazon.com/Boundaries-Henry-Cloud/dp/0310241804

*** These are just Seeing the Avenger’sof good quotes in Marvel Comics…

The movie version…

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Tom Morgan  is family to me.  Tom hosts the longest running radio talk show in America, and it’s all about money.  As well, Tom writes a weekly post about his views on American Politics or life in general.  It gives me no greater pleasure than to post writings from my family, or to talk about their achievements and share all that here on this glob.  It doesn’t matter so much to me if I agree with the premise of the writing; both, no, all sides need to be heard. Thing is, this post of his is just the type of column that could burn any ass in hell in today’s times, though it speaks truth so often in so many ways… When does it stop? When will organizations that kept step with the times in the past, and rightly so as this was their job to do—right or wrong by today’s standards—stop getting hanged for doing so?  Today, the big boys escape real damage while the less footed get snagged and torn apart…

Monuments that have stood for almost 200 years might better be considered history rather than an ongoing sentiment. Still, and the problem, many see those statues and want to support those old, cast off beliefs…

(Members of a racial justice organization prepare to hang a banner, reading “Louisville, Take It Down” on a monument to Confederate soldier John B. Castleman in Louisville, Ky., August 19, 2017. REUTERS/Bryan Woolston)

A few statues on Georgia’s  Stone Mountain stand as a testament to those times GONE by.  Will history will be lost because people failed to move on?

Levittown, Long Island, was thousands of home-built to meet the needs of WWII vets coming home for the war.. One rule= Whites only.

Levittown, NY. back in the day—

Those homes still stand. What do we do? Burn them down?  Although I understand the sensibilities of race relations, I am annoyed by the hit or miss aspect of how history is being converted to meet today’s standards.

Maybe, this is good? I just don’t know.

… here’s Tom Morgan’s thoughts on this subject…

 

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Join me in a grand political correctness crusade! Together we can punish the present for the past. This crusade has already racked up several victories. Many more lie ahead.

Our most recent victory: We beheaded Kate Smith. The New York Yankees and Philadelphia Flyers destroyed her recordings of “God Bless America” they used to play. The Flyers hauled her statue from its stadium. They did this after the crusade unearthed two of her recordings . From 80 years ago. They had racist lyrics.

By today’s standards they did. Those are the only ones that count. Today’s standards.

Onward!  Let us demand the NY Yankees close down. Kate used to sing racist lyrics. The Yanks practiced racism. Big time. They downright banned African-Americans from their entire organization. This, for many years after the Dodgers hired Jackie Robinson. The Yanks might as well have painted a sign on their stadium: BLACKS NEED NOT APPLY.

Onward!  Let us demand that all of Major League Baseball go out of business. Yes! We pulled down statues of generals who fought for the Confederacy. We chiseled names from buildings. We re-named parks and schools. Those that honored guys who owned slaves.

Well, for fifty years baseball would not let a black man don a major league uniform. Banned them. For the color of their skin. Down with baseball! Destroy the Hall of Fame with its tributes to all those racists of old.

Down with the bigoted racist U.S. Senate. It was certainly that for a few hundred years.

The Senate honored Sen. Robert Byrd for 51 years. Mourned him as a hero of that esteemed body. Well, for many years Byrd was a Grand Cyclops of the KKK. While a senator. He fought bitterly against civil rights for black Americans.

As did Sen. J. William Fulbright. Yes, these mentors to Bill and Hillary were downright racists. Active racists. Let us take down their portraits and statues.

Let us extinguish the Fulbright Scholar Program. Let us remove Byrd’s name from the countless buildings and parks and highways in West Virginia. Leave it only on the sewage plants named after him.

Kate Smith only sang a few racist songs. These guys labored to deny rights to millions of Americans. They kept segregation and racism alive.

Let us close down the Congress that tolerated these racists. That lauded and honored them. Let us start anew. The whole structure was racist from its founding.

Onward! To more practical goals. Destroy the New Yorker Magazine. For decades it ran disgusting cartoons.  Disgusting by today’s standards.

They lampooned women with big chests, blacks, Jewish merchants, fat women, flat-chested women, stupid blondes. They portrayed women as idiots. For their driving, their shopping, their looks, their looseness after a few drinks. One of their top cartoonists was obsessed with women’s breasts. His characters leered down blouses. They cheered when discovering breasts floated in the bath.

The New Yorker cartoons targeted Indians, Native Americans, gypsies, Italians, Arabs, Mexicans, Chinese, black cotton-pickers. They portrayed blacks with huge white lips. They featured Africans as ignorant savages with spears and grass skirts.  One cartoon featured a gentlemen’s outfitter store that displayed a range of KKK robes in its windows.

Down with the New Yorker, I say. It was a racist, sexist rag for fifty years. It deserves more punishment than Kate Smith. She sang. The New Yorker humiliated millions and openly encouraged racial and ethnic prejudice.

Close down NBC and other networks. They kept blacks off the air for decades. They made millions on the Amos n’ Andy show.

That program invited millions to laugh at the laziness and ignorance of blacks. It mocked blacks’ dreams of improving their lot. One critic called it a mean-spirited exploitation of racial stereotypes. Its characters mangled the language. What was most humiliating to blacks was that the characters on radio were whites, impersonating blacks. They wore blackface for publicity shots.

Join the crusade. Along with today’s rap groups.  Yes.

I asked a few rap groups for support for this crusade. I cannot print their responses because they were filled with profanity. Lots of variations of the N word and “ho’s” and “white MFers”. From the translation it looks to me as if they are really opposed to racist stuff, man.

One thing I know for sure. All this virtue-posturing is pretty ridiculous, isn’t it?

From Tom…as in Morgan.

Find Tom on Facebook. You can write to Tom at tomasinmorgan@yahoo.com.

 

So that’s it. I’d love to hear from family and friends and others on this subject. It’s dicey…. and I know you have an opinion on this , one way or the other…. write-up!… I’m all about reading your ideas.

Cheers,  Franque23


And so many ways to say it.

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(*The three pictures that look alike in this post were taken in Japan and include my daughter who lives there.)

Thing is, we have millions of quotes from history that hit their intended mark.  Shakespeare’s works contain a lifetime of reading filled with spot on observations when it comes to Man’s nature. All of that is good; our history of triumphs filled with magnificent people like those buried at Notre Dame creates a wonderful spring-board for us to better understand the present. Still, I’d like to go back, just a bit, though it might land in a time when many of you weren’t yet born…

(About 1963…)

I started singing on stage during school productions when I was about 12, if that’s about sixth grade. My first big ,’hit,’ was the singing of, Sixteen Tons…and what do you get,….How hot those stage lights were.

Before I knew it, I was wearing turtle necks and black felt boots thinking I’d become Beatle-like. My friend, Pete Einhorn, and I sang in to microphones at home made of pull down TV room ceiling lamps. Later on, we’d stand in fields of flowers, sit on railroad tracks and perform in friend’s up stair bedrooms.

guitar players of the corn

We made tracks to Goshen, NY.

We wrote plenty of songs to sing, but none of them made it big.

No, maybe our biggest moments came when performing for producers in New York city’s 666 building or out on Long island in producer’s homes. They about all said the same thing after listening to our music… “You (me) can really sing, kid! And you (Pete) can really play well.” Unfortunately, I think that also meant that I couldn’t play well and Pete couldn’t sing much”-not back then. Ha! Once, a gal picked Pete and me up at a park as we sat around stone out of our gourds and singing our hearts out.  She took us to her home and had us play there…. in walks her dad, Perry Como, who said about the same words to us as had most producers, then he walked out.

Me, around 1970… still rockin’ and singing.

Why did I sing, play and write songs? Really not so much for any money, but for an inner sense that I wanted to help people with the ideas our music expressed. Make it,’ Big?’ No, but we were lucky to be a part of a huge movement soon to come.

This was the start of a movement in time much bigger than any success Pete or I hoped to have. People started flashing the Peace sign where ever they went, like they still do in Japan when pictures are being taken.

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Reefer and acid started flowing around like wind-blown thistles.  There was talk of ending not just the Nam War but all war. Free love was, and any bad outcome from that could be solved with a doctor visit. No worries…we just kept on,’Trucking’

It can sometimes take years to understand the value of any Generation. Has enough time past to allow for a fair assessment of the Baby Boomers? Free Love? Equal Rights? The End of War? Freedom to be yourself and look how you like? A pot—head in every home? Legalized Pot? Throw the bras out? Grow your hair long? Impeach Nixon?  Food for Peace? These were some of the slogans carried by many of the Baby Boomers. So, how have we done as a generation that called for so much societal change?

Some things may never change or haven’t.

You have to admit, after 50 years the Pot laws are starting to turn around! Nixon is long gone while wars go on and on.  The Food for Peace program, an idea that seemed a no Brianer, actually bankrupt farmers in South America and turned them to growing pot for money which subsequently lead to their fields and lives being sprayed with Paraquat. Bra’s now-a-days come off and go on as styles change. Unfortunately, many of us who once marched for Peace and sang at Woodstock have become representatives and leaders , CEO’s and whatnot who are much like the same old sexist, short-sighted individuals we have had in the past doing those same jobs.

But, there IS one thing my generation gave to the next and hopefully to all that follow: the right to look like you want to look. After being spit upon by laughing adults back in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s for my long hair, it gives me great joy to see the various ways people choose to look, and without scorn from most of our society. This is the one thing our generation accomplished for certain. Go ahead, dye your hair five different colors; tattoo your body from head to toe; dig those body piercings; flashy clothes, large or small glasses; ties or not; shorts, skirts, pants—just do it. No worries.

Peace on how you look. And, whether we achieved it or not,  much of our Generation’s message was filled with the notion of Peace.

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From our Generation to yours, you’re welcome. I’m hoping following Generations can get that notion of World- Peace we longed for down pat.

“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.” Shakespeare.

So hit the stage and sing it out and look the part! Good luck.

Fanque23; still truckin’ after all these years.

A family line-up last year:

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Image result for notre dameThis is one of the saddest days. Notre Dame is a symbol of so much, and the keeper of so much of Western Civilization’s history by way of those buried there. One can’t slight the architecture embodied in this structure as well; the magnificent flying buttresses come to mind—and inside the stained glass, the ceilings, the gold inlays and marble flooring, the kind of work that will never be replaced fills my head. In all, Notre Dame, in all of its glory, has meant so much to so many over the past 800 years.

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Image result for images inside notre Dame

The burning of Notre Dame is a loss but I suspect, also, it may be a bad beginning of what’s to come.

Questions about the cause of this fire will arise soon enough. It appears as though there were workers around the top of the building as made evident by the presence of large scaffolding around the structure’s roof.  Could one of them unintentionally started the fire? Could this fire have been set intentionally?  Already these questions have risen from the ash and in the minds of so many!

It’s no secret Paris has been the location of several terrorist attacks. Was the burning down of Notre Dame one of them?  It may not matter whether or not the Notre Dame fire was set on purpose—the heated social climate made of clashing cultures in Paris may not wait for facts before it rears its ugly head, before violence against groups of people take place. This blaze may be only the beginning of more clashes between faiths and ideologies with in the city. And, fires spread.

Some see the immigration problems many countries face as an attack upon Western Society. They don’t focus on the suffering people coming to their country face at home and during their travel, but rather see an influx of strangers they have not asked to meet. The destruction of Notre Dame will not help alleviate those feelings of dislike or discomfort for those who arrive. This blaze of Notre Dame may finally be put out, but I doubt it will be pushed aside by much but for retribution, more hate, and more suffering. Time will tell.

For now, so much has been lost. It’s a sad day, one that will burn in the memory of many and, I think, forever in Time.

Franque23

Image result for picture inside notre dame


The day was perfect but for what wasn’t. A nagging sinus infection(or is it a tooth?)came to the local vicinity of my head.  I’ve had this before and gargling salt water often seems to alleviate the symptoms.

I’ve read yoga can help.

Butt, being a Library Specialist in our Children’s department kept this ditty ringing thru my ears.

Maybe, this was on my mind as I hurried out the door on my way to work this morning. Then, it happened.

‘Why isn’t my car door opening?’

I had my work lanyard and building pass on, my second pair of glasses in hand, my two meals of food for the day in my igloo container, my coffee cup, my emergency asthma meds just in case, my eye drops for pollen season, my cough drops, loose change, license, charge card and food discount card in pocket….

‘Whoops, I didn’t pick up my key off the key rack—dang, left it inside; worse, I’m locked out!’

Crap usually comes in bunches, right? Unless, of course, you need a laxative….anyway, I had several ‘backed up’ plans. Sorry….anyway, backup plan number one was our neighbor has our house key in her house. Backup plan, ‘number two,’ was another stored key in a secret location with her just as we have her key secretly stored. Perfect!!!! Her car was in the driveway as I made my way to her door.

‘This will be simple—I’ll knock on her door, get the key and voila! Everything will come out fine!’

Thing is, I’d no idea the freight-train of Fate was about to pass through! Remember those pennies you left on the train-tracks to get flattened like a watery pancake? I was about to resemble those.

‘Okay, no answer from my neighbor, but this is just what the number two 😉 backup scenario, the so-called “secret outside key location,” was all about! Don’t worry.’

Well yeah, not to worry was timely but not to find the key in any secret location was also the moment….Drat! And, splat! I had to go! (…to work.)

I briskly walked back to the house to check for any window that might not be locked. Gosh, are we diligent on that! Every window was locked; are we anal? I crawled through the dog door in the back room to find the huge sliding doors were locked tight as well…Poop!

‘Sometimes Life seems less than perfect.’

But, as luck came my way ( haha…as if!) one strangely shaped, two foot wide, four foot high window in the downstairs bedroom was not locked!!! My Eureka! would soon become a freak show.

Imagine, if you will, a seventy year old guy trying to crawl into a two-foot wide space that is half-blocked inside by a heavy piece of furniture.

Well, it didn’t happen because after a futile attempt to bend into a pretzel, I thought trying my neighbor’s hidden key location again was a better idea. I looked everywhere with NO luck.

My stupid phone had fried two weeks earlier after I’d recharged it for three straight days? Go figure? So, I found a neighbor home at the fourth house I tried who had a phone I could use. I called my wife somewhere in the universe to tell her about my situation….she didn’t pick up. BUT!!! There was backup plan number three; I just had to go into relax-ative mode.

‘Hey, my other neighbor has the key to the neighbor’s house that has my key in it! Yay! I’ll call her, open up my neighbor’s house with that spare key, get my key and open my home up with that!’

Backup plan number three would save me until it didn’t…

Of course, the other neighbor I needed wasn’t home.

‘Here’s the beauty—being this deflated has to mean I’m losing weight.’

It’s the same principle that’s in play when you sit on the pot for three days with a stomach flu of some sort. Those pounds are drippin’ off! Anyway, this was a great thinking moment!

I headed home and looked more at the skinny one foot opening in that two foot window and knew this wonder boy could do it! I’m not sure what my ass looked like as I headed face first through that opening.

 

‘Getting stuck half in and half out this window with no phone could be bad.’ Double splat.

My legs hung outside with my butt wiggling over the bottom windowsill as I strained with my arms to pull myself into the room. Oh, to be twenty again. Visions of all those sugar plums I shouldn’t have eaten danced in my head.

I got into the downstairs bedroom before remembering this room had a steel door between it and the rest of our house. I stepped through the room up to the door.

‘Sometimes we lock it from the inside; other times we don’t.’

Yikes! We are SUPER diligent about locking things up tight! I was almost starting to think I was having a bad day!

Two and 1/2 hours later I decided my luck was flat-out, plain out to lunch. Of course, I’d called my wife again, no luck there. What is luck, anyway? Some sort of fiend that runs a muck to splatter my day with ruinous platitudes of down on your luck, the creek plum run dry and swimming upstream metaphors? Yes; exactly.

‘Well, if Luck’s out to lunch, I might as well eat mine.’

This was my last thought before my wife came home and saved the day! Here’s the best news: I’d missed most of a staff meeting at work!?!?!How cool was that?

It’s a lock—my luck had turned around!

Franque23

 

 

 

 

 

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