You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘coming of age’ tag.


My wife recently told  a news story on T.V. to “Go Fund Yourself.” It broke me out in fits of laughter….as my wife often does. She’s smart, a wit-full companion that keeps me thinkin’. Thing is, my first editor of everything you’ve ever read from me is also sharp, and more helpful than you know…. Barbara sent me this tonight,, and I thought in our time of strife it might do us all good to take a look at the,’Will  to Survive’. It’s in all of us, to fight for existence, and that we shall prevail…just look at the trees: they lead the way.

Enjoy, and thanks again to Barbara for the link.

Peace, Franque23

Trees have been around for about 370 million years, and as you can see from these incredible pictures, there’s a good reason why they’ve survived for so long.  Whether they’re growing in the middle of gale-force winds, on the tops of rocky platforms, inside concrete tunnels, or even growing out of each other, trees know how to survive in places that few living organisms can, which explains why the planet is host to around 3 trillion adult trees that cover an estimated 30% of the earth’s land.  Considering that plants produce the vast majority of the oxygen that we breathe, we should all think ourselves very fortunate that trees are as resilient as they are.  We wouldn’t even be here if they weren’t.

#1  A Place Of Enchantment
59830853cd583_6349891801_055b29fb06_b__7

#2  This Palm Tree Fell Over And Curved Right Back Up
59830d11dc8d6_RIjtuy3__700.jpg

#3  This Tree Fell Over And Grew 4 More Trees Out Of Itself
5982da15121a2_96zyrfg4zu3z__700.jpg

#4  The Only Tree That Survived The Tsunami In Japan Between 70,000 Trees. Now Protected And Restored.
trees-refuse-to-give-up-24-59846122a265c

#5  Tree Of Life – Olympic National Park, Washington
59830ceb33ff5_67WYiHWr__700.jpg

#6   A Tree’s Root Spill Over The Sidewalk
5983076328c22_D15dtiB__700.jpg

#7   Nature FTW
59830b63c15f6_4620123510_f5db6a55f1_o__7

#8   A Tree Growing Through Speed Limit Sign
trees-refuse-to-give-up-17-59831833509f6

#9  This Tree That Refuses To Die
5983149c7f9e7_0ohr67we0f9z__700.jpg

#10  This Tree Still Has Its Leaves Because Of The Light Shining On It
trees-refuse-to-give-up-78-59846719c7af7

#11  Life Finds A Way
trees-refuse-to-give-up-13-59830fe90cb2a

#12  Tree Roots Extend Across A Gap To The Mainland For Nutrients
598314e6e945a_31cWv64__700.jpg

#13  Life Finds A Way
59830880220a8_1Le42Ss__700.jpg

#14  Ta Promh Temple In Cambodia
trees-refuse-to-give-up-11-59830de8d632a

#15  Striving
598310895938a__700.jpg

#16  Someone Hung His Skates On A Small Tree When He Was Younger. He Forgot He Had Left Them There And Found Them Years Later

#17  A Tree Growing On Another Tree
trees-refuse-to-give-up-102-598417e86fa0

#18 This Tree Is Growing Out Of Another Tree
598316c874ed7_1qayaoohozny__700.jpg

#19 This Tree Grew Out Of The Stump Of A Dead Tree And Then The Stump Rotted Away
59831befd5ab5__700.jpg

#20 A Tree Grows From Third Floor Window
598339b1363d7_gMbkDST__700.jpg

#21 Life Finds A Way
trees-refuse-to-give-up-10-59830dbe9fa89

#22 I Spent Ages Staring At This Tree Before Taking This Pic. I Hope You Find It As Fascinating As I Did
59845dcb55577_aKp8jdb__700.jpg

#23 This Floating Island That Grew At The End Of A Partially Sunken Tree
5983157cc8aa9_K4hNE1s__700.jpg

#24 This Wooden Chair My Parents Bought Started Sprouting Leaves
5983151d8304e_tyHElXi__700.jpg

#25 The Old Piano Tree
trees-refuse-to-give-up-15-598311618f5d7

#27 One Tree On My Street Refused To Accept Winter
5983187e66777_Q4jSVzFr__700.jpg

#28 My Sister’s Tree Is Eating Her Fence
trees-refuse-to-give-up-101-598416b37d16

#29 This Tree Growing Through A Fence
598476a73b48e_cv3h4kbkeaty__700.jpg

#30 Life,Uh… Finds A Way
59830b2a90b4d_QrpEr3W__700.jpg

 

 

Advertisements

This is the winning 2020 presidential ticket. In fact, the more Republicans and right of center groups claim this idea is preposterous, the more Left leaning voters should realize it’s true!

Trump’s election set precedent that a person not directly experienced with holding office can be elected President. The 2018 mid-terms have more than shown voters are agreeable to female candidates, and even female, Black candidates in the South!! Yikes! I wouldn’t have thought this to be the case, but it is. The 2018 mid-term election has proven the American electorate is ready for women of any faith or color. Now is the time for Michelle Obama.

We all know President Obama brought America out of the brink of collapse, along with perhaps saving the entire world economy, so who better to associate with how to truly Make America the shining beacon of hope and posterity it once was under President Obama?  Michele Obama, that’s who can lead the charge in 2020. Michele is the one who can break through that invisible male ceiling the presidency of the U.S. still supports; she is the one who can unite and bring out so many difference Democratic voters.

And what of Bernie Sanders as V.P. on the ticket with Michelle Obama for 2020? This is a slam dunk yes! Bernie calls for a health plan most Americans have come to favor; Bernie calls for living wages and real tax cuts American workers deserve. Any notion that Bernie’s too old, or too socialist, or that, ‘Michelle won’t run,’ is just bull crap being thrown from the Right, a group who literally trembles in fear of this Democratic ticket.

Get Michelle and Bernie on the ticket and America wins.

Elect Michelle and Bernie and Education gets a huge increase in spending; America’s humanitarian efforts resume throughout the world; a living wage comes to fruition; real infrastructure rebuilding programs commence; renewable energy takes off in America and sparks a mass up-swing in employment and prosperity; health care becomes part of our society and not a leech upon on government and our worker’s backs. These are all things American’s want by massive majority numbers.

Get rid of illegal gerrymandering across America and the new world dawns through America’s growth and undeniable will to succeed.

Listen up. Cast fear aside and get Michelle and Bernie on the same ticket for 2020.

Let’s cast aside the party that has once again deregulated banks putting the U.S. in danger of another ,’bubble burst, ‘ as we had Under Bush . Jr. Let’s dump the party that has striped America of much-needed environmental controls, who now drills in our National Parks threatening our famous, Heritage sites. We can beat back Republican corruption and the radical hate groups this party embraces; we can end the hate mongering President Trump seems so happy to spew on a nearly daily basis. We can end the seemingly endless stream of lies now being forced upon the American people from this current Republican administration.

It’s a new day, baby. Democrats! Let’s bring it home.

Franque23

 


I’m thinking eating an apple and then a banana could make a person fart? This could be trouble. I’m working the public service desk for the nest 5 hours and I just consumed both! If the answer to my first important question of the day is,’Yes,’ I can only hope some service dogs come in. The good news? I’ll be the first to find out the validity of the premise so I can quickly leave my area in search of a book or some other task.

Question two for today: Has our Supreme Court always been strictly a partisan affair and corrupted by outside interests? I didn’t believe so as a child, but , then again, I also believed in Santa Clause.

My take of the Kavanaugh selection? The vote was 48 NO to 50 YES for confirmation. This means there were 48 correct votes and 50 wrong—that’s about it. For liberals, the future for Supreme Court decisions looks bleak; that the Supreme Court no longer appears to have a swing voter might wreak havoc as decisions come down during the years ahead.

Third question: Why is the suffix, ‘Jerry or Gerry,’ such a derogation? We have the, ‘Jerry’s’ (the German soldiers during world War 11) and, Gerrymandering, (Pretty much the sole corrupt political device that secured the election for many candidates throughout our country.) If something has been Jerry-rigged it won’t work for long—we all know that. But did you know, “Jerry,’ is another name for Chamber Pot!?!?!OH I know, a chamber pot was well received when needed, but it still seems to be a bottom-of-the-barrel sorta thing.

So why does all this matter? My name is Gerald, often turned to, Gerry, by family and friends, so I’m a bit sensitive to having a name associated with, 1)the enemy, 2)corruption, 3)something that won’t be any good or, 4) a piss-pot and worse. This is why being called,’Franque,’ by friends on athletic teams in High School was such a relief!

Fourth question: Since 1996, Medical Cannabis sales tax collection in states that have deemed the drug legal for medical use has totaled over, One billion, two hundred eighty-five thousand dollars. These are the medical sales. Imagine if the illegal usage sales and the tax charged were added to this figure? Why in any Capitalist’s, rational head would it seem good to not legalize Pot?* Folks—we have a bunch of seeds and stems running our DOJ (Department of Justice). (Sessions is a jerk).

Fifth question: Why do so many men seem to hate women? Last time I looked, read or have been told, every man on the planet came by way of a woman. Or, is this alternative fact?

So many men lust for the same-sex they hate, demean, exclude from human rights that our world seems a whirling dervish of septic brain rot. For now, unfortunately, this is the good news. The over-all history of men’s atrocities toward women makes our current societal condemnation of women an improvement of epic proportions. I’ve always had a,’soft-spot,'(meaning I care?) for the plight of the Native American’s and for all indigenous people. Thing is, take any total number of any single group who has been wronged in history and put that figure against the number of over one-half of the world’s population throughout history—that would be female—and imagine which number is larger. See? Women make up the largest group number of people tortured, used, abused, slaughtered and misaligned in the history of Mankind. And I do wonder about the term, ‘Mankind.’ Divide the word, Mankind,(Man—kind) and see that each half of the term is kinda off.

Sixth question: Why are so few patrons coming to the service desk? Hmmm. And no, that was a burp-I swear.

Franque23 loves bananas and apples.

 

*https://www.forbes.com/sites/andrewdepietro/2018/05/04/how-much-money-states-make-cannabis-sales/#28e12c8df181

 


Gerald, the farmer. That’s not a title I ever thought I might stand by but, in some respects, it’s here now with me.

No, from the get go I announced as a small boy of four and then for some years after that I was, in fact, Gerald the Great! I’d march around our house with my wooden sword held high while my friends herded behind me proclaiming that, “I am Gerald the Great!”

There could be no doubt about my title. It was so well forecast by my mom’s natural golden shining hair and red lipped sweet smiles. My dad’s ever present smooth countenance, a demeanor so calm he could part the red sea with a single whisper, this man, too, had such a force his words gave swords to my armies.

I paraded armies of plastic men about the house for years, moving huge numbers of troops from room to room seeking the high ‘couch’ ground to gain advantage over an invisible foe. In fact, I directed and starred in these plastic men battles for so long I’m sure my mom must have wondered if, “The Nut case!”, should be added to the title, “Gerald the Great!”

I could never know the joy my first baby girl would give me.

Back then, I had to listen to the birds; the wind. I’d run across fields of dandelion knowing my song was in the air, that the sparkle in the dew upon the grass called. It was never hard to climb our apple trees highest limbs, catch, hit or throw the ball or balance precariously to walk across a 2X4 beam laid upon the ground. Life came easy..

Most mornings, the house rang of piano music played by my beautiful red-haired sister or mother whose apple pies usually scented the air by 10 AM. Perhaps, this is why when it came time for me to go to school I confidently announced that I wasn’t going to go. Of course, this is the first time I had to realize being, Gerald the Great, had its kinks.

I was the daydreamer in school; the birds were still singing. The white clouds seemed so much more appealing to see than the chalk streaks upon the black board. Schools friends were like brothers and the girls, so much smarter and with long hair, were fascinating.

 Sixth grade graduation…I’m in the back row, 6th from the right.

I drafted behind my brother’s spotless lead and fell into sports, wrestling from 3rd grade on, jostling lacrosse sticks on the field and running the football behind great blockers.

Ed placed third in the Nationals while wrestling for Harvard.

.

Music gave me a push, too. Wait!!! Whahaha, this is a very old photo and worn around the top left but if you click on it the picture seems to show my head smoking!!!!

It was my freshmen year of high school when my best friend, Bob Russo, and I attended a camp in Marlboro, Vermont, as counselors. One night, he slipped beneath the lake waters and never came back up. I’d been there, on the shore, but in the full moon light I was unable to locate his call for help. As daunting as that moment was to carry from then on, Gerald the Great, didn’t exactly go to the bottom of that lake with my friend that night, not entirely.  It’s  true, a part of me never left that shore line, but the burning embers of new love kept my glow alive through most of my remaining High School years. Thing is, Gerald the Great, did lose that night and I may have never found my way back.

Death has a nasty habit of sticking around, forever.

Life has a great way of moving on whether you’re ready to or not.

It seems we run to our shadows as we live.*

It’s years later, now, after the death of my friend. Of course, like most of us who live to my age, I’ve seen quite a few loved ones pass. I’m not sure if I see them best in the sunrise now or find them coming back most often during the sunset hours.  It’s all a wonder.

I had a renter, Ralph, a Vietnam combat vet who struggled with chemical poisoning. I liked, Ralph, and visited him often for no reason but friendship. One day like any other, he sat me down in his living room and told me this.

“Gerry, I appreciate your help here with the trailer; living here has been great. I’ve been going to the VA for several years now and they say my time is up. This is why I moved up here; to go to the VA.  Why I watch these damn combat dramas I don’t know.” Ralph turned off his TV set off. “Thing is, I was  in Sunrise , Florida, before I came here and one morning I decided to walk from my place all the way over a long bridge and make my way to the ocean. I saw a beautiful sunrise and heard a voice tell me that I’d make something out of my life yet. Now, I’m just dying; I’ve done nothing.”

I liked, Ralph. I hated to see his sunken shoulders, to hear his words. During my 14 years in retail I’d had complete strangers come up to my leather stands and announce they were dying, but this was Ralph, my friend. That I never knew his situation hit me like a dagger.

“Listen, Ralph, none of us can say what we have done when it comes to other lives. It’s that old image of a pebble being thrown into a pond; we ripple our lives through others in ways we don’t know.” We talked for hours.

 I found myself hoping I’d created waves with my life.

Funny, but I never went on to tell him how he’d rippled through me, and most of that I didn’t even hold at the time. Ralph passed two weeks later.

So, the point for, Gerald the Great, as the throes of life and death have surrounded me, is it came as no surprise to learn later on that I’d actually come from a long line of famous soldier regiments that fought around the world back in the 1750’s.

 

This is the palace where Von Franquemont’s were trained in math and warfare.

No, for me, I guess this time called life has always been a battle to win. Maybe, did I win? I have to think.

The rain came lightly down today as I picked our garden with the company of Shadow, my ever-loving dog.

I thought about a great friend, Anne, who just this past month told me the doctors had said she’d be dead by then. Her smile was no less bright; the warmth and compassion from her is no less spectacular than anything that ever was. Sometimes, this battle called life seems too much.

Anne is so much to so many. It feels as though she could never leave. She’s a tsunami of joy for the living spirit world.

I came in to leave this storm of thought carrying my produce to wipe the rain off my brow, pat down my dog and have some tea. It was time to regroup; time to kindle flames. It’s time to find the high ground, hit the couch, maybe read. I still hear the birds.

The young give me hope.

One day, Gerald the Great, may march around this house once more and if I do I’ll have to proclaim, “I never saw so much coming.”

Warm cheers for May

Franque23

 

 

*This is my son-in-law and our grandson.

 

 

 


It’s happening today all over America and it happened in Gainesville, Florida, too. Crowds of people got out to say enough is enough! We want to ban large magazines, assault type weapons used most often in mass shooting, demand background checks for all gun purchases at any venue of sale-retail, guns shows and online sales.

We want the mass shooting to stop; thoughts and prayers are not enough!image

The message once was, Peace. Today it’s, Stop Killing Us!

Bands played throughout the first 3 hour session of speeches and I couldn’t help but think of two guys that had a lot to do with my awakening—if not the World’s—to the idea of peace.

88164ecb2198992016fedeadee431b28 Waaay  young John Lennon and George Harrison…

By 1:30 the number pushed well over one thousand and all the time the messages that belong to this movement were heard loud and clear.

The crowd grew and the chanting became louder.

Then it was time to march but first we gathered all the students together in the center to applaud their work on this issue.

I think it’s of historical significance to note that the Nam war protests were led by students mostly college age. It was the young that led the way then as our younger students are leading the way now.* Politicians who scoff at the age of those leading this gun reform movement have failed to pay attention to history.  This group right here, the ones attacking the NRA led agendas in our country, are going to win. The politicians who put their chips down on the NRA are done, over-finished.

So how big was the Gainesville crowd…well, the line stretched nearly 1/2 mile long, and many deep. Old folks, father’s, mother’s, adults of every age, families, people pushing babies, skipping children, a huge amount of school age people and people pushing wheelchairs made the numbers bigly.

The chants continued:

March for Life!

Say No to NRA! Vote them out!29512883_10213899868544779_2253486432933025462_n

It was great to see friends there…**29498062_10213901109895812_8206434635422649271_n

 

The line of marching people felt endless, and my heart hopes so.

29511797_10213901479065041_2842824743314048217_n

As some of the speakers today knew one, two or all of the dead from the Parkland shooting personally, some signs also had a personal touch.

No, today didn’t feel like ,’another,’ event. The words, the feelings expressed, the messages and energy collectively gathered today represent a nation-wide movement that will continue. This time  America’s guns laws and the meaning of  the Right to Bear Arms will change. It’s the Nam protest day’s force all over again and these younger folks will not let go.

But what messages today let’s me know the time’s are a changin’?

We are in this together. And we will vote. Politicians who have so far refused to heed the call to disarm our society are already scurrying for a way to hide or re-invent their position.29541571_10213899931186345_2538367165260030756_n

A huge movement is coming around to think the NRA as it stands today is a real threat to American society.

Sending thoughts and prayers to the parents and loved ones over the death of their loved ones won’t work again, never again. All the so-called kids here today had this on their minds,

and they won’t forget.

Today we had an elegant speaking 11-year-old ask our Representatives one question? “Do you think we are stupid?”

Some Representatives do, and some have belittled the age of these protestors…. Trust me, the time is coming to end the office of those who do.

Power to the People no matter their age is alive and well-

Cheers 

Franque23

*Thanks to dale for this connection and for all of the pictures…

** Thanks to Joey and Debbie for their pictures as well.

 


Jed’s still a child in my mind’s eye. We’re running across the bluff by Lake Bonaparte where our lake house stands today; his brother Johnny is still alive. Jed’s a skinny kid who knows more than me, taller,  wise with eyes clear enough to see through. We’re laughing for good reason—we don’t know any different.

The wild outside had nothing on our childhood dreams, hopes and expectations. The cool lake water tickled our toes and pleased our fancy. Our younger days passed so quickly, days never tethered but set free by a glistening lake so perennial and steadfast as the universe.

Jed, you’re forever my cousin.

Truth: the lake bunk house rocked with laughter. Sleeping bags kept us warm on cots as nights made of stars crept overhead. Jed had then and always a special knack that makes me belly laugh. I’d roll inside bent over after hearing his pensive hilarious words so dryly spoken without a wasted syllable. Recently, there was this moment:

“Oh, being a tax collector has it’s tough moments.”—I could see the painful far away look in Jed’s eyes— “Catching people cheating on taxes, fining them more than they can afford to pay and then working them through payment negotiations; it’s all tough. But that’s not the most fun I’ve had working-other things come up, too.” It’s belly laugh roll on the grass time for me.

We stood together, grown men on the bluff as the setting sun dazzled rolling lake waves. The wind seemed at our back; Beer Island, High Rocks, Birch Island and Round Island so distant punctuated every day we’d spent in the spot as children.

A few years later we visited the lake again…

“I’m not sure about going to the castle.” Jed puffed on his cigar as he looked my way.

“Why? It’s our family’s castle; we should go to Germany.”

“We’re so different now— I don’t know how that would work.”

“Ah, that’s all just politics; this is blood; it will be good.” (Jed told me eight years ago that he had a ‘special’ circular file where he put all my blogs*, especially the political ones…)

“Well,” puff on cigar again, “let me think about it.”

I thought Jed would come.

He belongs.

As it turned, Jed never did make the trip to Europe this past September. Opportunity, so often a doubled edged sword, has struck its blow. No, Jed was only there in spirit with me just as it is for every cousin of mine. To me, the bonds of family never break but boil in the blood and remain as resilient as images of  Lake Bonaparte appear in my head. Some cousins long dead 11 or 13 years ago, and even Johnny now 55 years gone, still linger in my heart.

Long ago, Grandma Franque smiled at our young, prancing feet at the lake in a way I can only appreciate some 60 years later. She saw what Jed and the rest of us had then; family. I feel that now.

Goodbye, Jed, my lakeside cousin.

It’s impossible to weigh a heavy heart-

Franque23

 

  • *.i.e. trash can

Isn’t that the question? Are those who have gone before us still here? Or, are those departed here some of the time, for a second, hour, day or week and then gone for a while? Could it be the dead are never, ever here at all, gone for good, silent, an empty place in our heart and mind only?

Sometimes I can hear my dad’s voice. “That a boy!”; “Keep your nose clean!”; ” Up an’ at em'”; “Mow today.” Wait, what???*

Really, sometimes I can hear Dad asking me to mow, and I mean asking. Dad was a sweet guy so he’d always asked, never demand, and added a “Hon.” to it. “How about mowing today, hon.” And when Dad did ask me to do something it was a done deal-that’s the way our family rolled.

I’d say dad’s patience and understanding could move mountains.

I’m thinkin’ Dad was successful at about everything he tried to do. The oldest of five siblings, we got it that Dad helped his brothers and sister go through college while he was in school as well. We have accounting books he kept during his younger days and every penny mattered and was tracked. He was on the Queen Elizabeth as it sailed to England loaded with troops during World War II and he was in charge of some of the troops on board. As a chief engineer, he helped in the restoration of Europe after the war, and here at home my family actually drove over a bridge out west that he had designed.

In the end, Dad became a Full Colonel, and upon his death Fort Drum sent an honor guard to play taps and present mom with an American flag on Dad’s behalf. An officer on the base researched Dad’s history of service and told me, “He deserves this.” Later that same day, Fort Drum  flew a missing man formation for him over Lake Bonaparte.  There, low, just above High Rocks, a line of helicopters flew but one was missing in the line formation. My eyes stared at the empty spot and saw my dad’s spirit there. It was quite a send off for a man I’ll never forget.

Thing is, just how, ‘off’, is Dad? Of course, he lives through me since I still hear his voice, remember things he said, still follow his advice when I can and think of him often. I imagine most who knew him remember his kind and gentle way. But, is Dad here, here, as in here.(This my most descriptive sentence ever:-)).

Dad is 72; Kelly one. He gave me so much. I was so happy to be able to give something back.(Thanks to my wife!) He loved his grand children.

If a person lives long enough, they learn that life’s a long road-the long and winding road. Life twists and turns at the drop of a hat, a gift, an accident, a brilliant idea or mistaken one, it tumbles along but always with effort. Perhaps, the best thing I ever read about life is that one lived full of good intention will become a beautiful memory.

The red single Hibiscus… Dad loved flowers and grew all kinds around our home.

To this day I think of Dad as I garden, check the flowers, pick the oranges and smile at the sky. Maybe the question is, How much more could my dad be here?

I was cleaning a spot off the bottom of our pool with a long brush when I noticed that I couldn’t see the spot once the water rippled. Then, as the water return to calm, I could see the spot once more. Is this it? Are the departed still within our medium but the substance is somehow rippled so we can’t see the other side of life? Wouldn’t we all like to know.

Dad shared our joys in life, and gave us so many…

Heck, Dad gave us the camp at Lake Bonaparte! How completely cool is that? The next time I gear up and climb in the boat, hear the engine kick up and head out to fish, Dad will be in the boat, but he won’t need a life jacket.

Bye Dad , for now.

Max Franquemont, July 18th, 1911- October 31st, 2001.

Franque23.

  • Pictures: Dad,  David Morgan, Aunt Virginia(Dad’s sister)  and Uncle Moe Morgan. On the 1/2 way dock at our camp.

 


I still believe, because of the timing, Trump could be one of America’s greatest Presidents if he’d make a few radical changes to his personality and agendas…

Trump can give America a great future with a wave of his hand.

Trump’s so close and he’s been given so much, not just from his dad who left him a fortune but by fate. The hand this current President has been dealt is loaded with trump cards, and all because of the calendar’s date. The time for huge upheaval, a powerful surge of change is at hand in America and the World. Trump holds all the cards to win these times over if he makes the right play.

In nineteen twenty, no one could see the horse and buggy days vanishing by nineteen thirty-two. There were a few companies working on cars back then, even earlier—Studebaker developed an electric car in 1902

1902 electric car

and then a gasoline powered car in 1904—

1905 Studebaker gas powered car

but, basically  buggies made fortunes and most believed horses were here to stay. Oh my, how the world had changed nineteen years later.

But what about now? Proponents of renewable energies clamor on about climate change, pollution and the urgent need for change if we are to save our future. The old guard of gas, oil and coal remain dug in, entrenched and supported by fortunes earned in the past, and point to a need for newer technologies before renewable energies can provide the world’s need for power. Most say it will be thirty years or longer before the renewable industry can compete with fossil fuels and make a dent in the power market.

Think back to the Nineteen twenties…..

Here’s the key to now: http://safeshare.tv/w/ntjwDrwEwh

As you see in this short two minute clip, knowledge is not increasing in a linear, even pace that can be charted or tied to any speed. No, we live in exponentially growing times of size, number, knowledge and possibility. Our time, Trump’s time, can best be thought of as a rocket ship that zooms to an unknown place with ever-increasing speed.

Get ready for the ride of our lives!

Just now, Las Vegas has gone to 100% renewable energy for the entire city-the result of a ten-year long renewable energy project. Some trains now run virtually energy free while transporting six-hundred thousand workers per day! * Even smaller, individual renewables are making developmental leaps. **Today, more people work in renewable energy than those who work in coal, gas and oil production and exploration combined!

Trump looks to  fossil fuels as our answer but it’s not. And as President, Trump has the power, the gift, to be the one who moves America as if by a flip of a coin into a bright future, to jobs, huge prosperity, abundance, leadership and a brand new world. Drilling, mining, fracking, dirty pipe lines that bust, these are the horse and buggy of our day; Trump’s day,*** but he can change this.

The reins of huge change are in Trump’s hands if he’ll only take them. Come on Trump; you know what you should be grabbing. The chance to make history is before you but you have to step up.

Trump’s on the wrong side of so many things like the Paris Climate accord and a wall that won’t work unless we post large signs on it that read, “No ladders or tunnels allowed.” BTW, 70% of all illegals got into America by plane…he’s also completely off on ‘Clean Coal’, that the oxymoron of the ages.****

And then, there’s the problem of ISIL. Trump’s right that the world has to do better at vetting immigrants and protecting our populations from random violence. How to do it; that’s another tipping point of history now.

CNN said it best today: “So, the state visit will go ahead, and there will be protests. But if Trump could only get off Twitter for five minutes and focus on the essentials of the Western alliance, he’d discover that Europe is edging closer to his way of thinking on the most important issue of our time. (ISIL)There is, increasingly, more agreement between us than disagreement.”

There you have it. Trump has to cut his losses, time spent on bad ideas, and grab the future as it’s truly unfolding, not just the way he wants it to go. Trump sits on a gold mine of Time.
Someone should tell him.

Who will tell him?

Franque23

*https://www.facebook.com/DavidAvocadoWolfe/videos/10154211237456512/?hc_ref=NEWSFEED

**https://www.smartflower.com/en

***America’s three largest producers of power from fossil fuels all sold their entire interests in Alberta’s shale fields back to Canada just this year…They see the renewable’s coming.

**** Just read that President Trump mused about lining his great wall with solar panels.


It’s that wink of a second in a slip, the moment just before smacking the ground when it all comes back. Yes, those wrong way turns taken so enthusiastically and the too many times pee laughed into my pants, those drinks poured left on the counter by two beers already opened, those broken romances that fractured the same way with a screw you suck-head let’s be friends and the pets who were out for food or thinking of me as food all come zinging back.

It’s all so simple.

It’s in the shape of a shadow when the montage of my trophies, good grades, degrees, parking citations, accidents, lawyer bills and self-written Dear John letters left in dusty closets merge the past and present to unravel through the unknown as History zooms ahead.

If I’d seen that slip coming I’d have laid down first. Thing is, I’d end up on the ground anyway, right? Good intentions have blown up roads.

How nice that guy who got hit by an apple figured out why his head hurt; deduction is a beautiful thing. But what about why falling down is a snap of a fact while getting up takes about sixteen months in the beginning and then becomes impossible near the end of this zillion-ring circus called life? Thing is, the circle of life may be round but it’s hard to find its fair side. Ask the Syrian refugees about fairness.

They say the good die young.

Can the Earth slip?

When we look up, are we?

How can we feel a sense of alarm when these are in clocks, not heads?

A few years back—the timeline’s history so who cares—some guys decided that Europe and North America were on top of a thing that was round, not flat. Maybe, they figured if we were on the bottom of the ball we’d fall off like nothing else did. That logic, along with a cocktail of mistaken thoughts made in history by names no one can spell is the basis of life as we know it, and maybe why so much has slipped.

Is the point to this traffic jammed up madhouse called life killing? There are 135 events in the Old Testament that attribute men’s deaths to the acts of God. The total estimated dead in the events ranges from 2.5 million to 25 million people. The difference in the figures is keyed around, ‘men’s deaths.’ The larger number includes the estimated women and children killed in the total. No matter, the end result of this deluge of death is a world full of people who rush into buildings to break their knee caps kneeling, or their backs bowing, or bang their heads against walls to experience worship.

I think Sodom and Gomorrah’s fate and human history leads as example here: hate something, then go bomb the piss out of it and wait for the survivors to build you temples. So here’s a concrete point before I hit the pavement writing. Does dropping the ‘mother of all bombs,’ the bigly, the huge, the best and big daddy of bombs(MOAB) mean we can expect Isis, yousis, mesis or any ,’sis,’ to come around and start paying us money and respect with prayer? And the answer is?

This may not be an exact quote.

I read the bigly bomb cost $170,000 to make. We killed like 90 guys. What about using those navy seal fellas that use one hundred-dollar bullets and shoot real targets instead? Well, our soldiers cost about a half a million each to train, deliver and keep overseas. It turns out using nukes is the biggest bang for the buck warfare!

We can only hope and pray to survive, come out ahead, the winners, like soldiers on every side hope. For sure, hitting the proverbial bottom hurts. Life has no trampoline and, dang it, if it doesn’t feel like America is somehow slipping right before my eyes. Do we make sense anymore?

See? I have questions and wonder if what goes around comes around, when’s an age of reason coming back?!?!

Some of this sounds familiar…

Whoops!

Ouch! Yeah—this slip trumps them all.

Franque23


It’s fitting this first post of 2017 should be about the enriching world of children’s books. But first, here’s a picture of one of my grandson’s showing us all how to greet the New Year!15390983_10210312667325616_8515486221660551798_n

Oh yeah and Yay!

Moving on-

Written by  Scotswoman,  Helen Bannerman, and first published by Grant Richards in October 1899, Little Black Sambo is not only one of the very first books I remember being fascinated by as a kid, it did the same for children all over the world for nearly 50 years. Then, the  book attracted uproars from those who had issues with the text and pictures.

Things is, was Helen Bannerman a lifetime ahead of herself? Why do I ask? That’s simple.

It’s a simple story: a boy with fancy clothes is caught by tigers who accept his clothes in lieu of eating the boy. The lions argue over who looks better in the new clothes, chase one another around a pole to get a different piece of clothing from the other and turn into a goo during the process. The tigers run so fast they heat up and melt.**

What Bannerman is describing is energy heat transfer-a solid becoming a liquid as a result. It’s a simple but remarkable thought. Of course, the boy  bringing the goo home so his mom can make pancakes out of it rockets the book up to yummy.

Today, this story just isn’t the warm and fuzzy book it was once thought to be. Time’s change and what we need to be thinking and reading about as people changes along with it.

Moving on—

Bonus picture:

 A one day pick of lemons this past fall.

A one day pick of lemons from my yard this past fall. Two kinds-small Meyer’s, large Meyer’s and a huge Pondarosa. My daughter makes a mean lemonade.

Books will never cease to surprise us if we can only find the time to read. Here’s one I’ve recommended before that will be well worth your effort: Collector of Moments. In my head it’s the Kafkaesque of easy on up to adult books. That’s right, you’ll find this book most often shelved in the children’s Easy section-a picture book- but it reads right on up to adult.collector-of-moments-lion2-1

An illustration from the book-did this picture help inspire the Life of Pi story?

You have to see it to believe it.

A bit like a Van Allsburg book, the NYT’s reviewed this 1999 publication, Collector of Moments , by Quint Buchholz:

“The unexpected details in the pictures demand equally imaginative acts of explanation. In addition, Buchholz often shows people looking at objects behind walls or through doors or even beyond the frame of the paintings — objects that viewers can’t literally see and must therefore envisage for themselves.

As the creator of images most interesting for what they don’t in fact show, Buchholz is himself an accomplished collector of moments. Not only does his book tell young readers things worth knowing about how to look at pictures, but the pictures themselves delightfully repay the kind of attention they invite viewers to give them.”

Enjoy.

You have to see it to believe it.

You have to see it to believe it. The book is a surprise package for sure!

Cheers–Moving on to 2017-it’s all ahead of us now.

Franque 23*

*I’ve been a Library Specialist in the Alachua County Library District for the past 21 years.

Oh my!15390983_10210312667325616_8515486221660551798_n

** The version I was read had the boy and the tigers running around the tree….different takes.

Top Clicks

  • None

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

December 2018
M T W T F S S
« Nov    
 12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930
31  

Categories

Advertisements