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Pumpernickel was the most foreign thing around the neighborhood back in my childhood days. A salted Frito was the a vanguard chip and guacamole remained a word hard to pronounce or spell. Now? That long ago time resides on the far side of a poorly mark rut in the road of life.

Certainly, I grew up in a part of America awash in feel good innocence. Then, it was a time of hope for those who lived under the disappearing shadow of World War II. We were the champions of the free world; the winners.

Grandpa was proud of his four boys who all fought in WW II (Dad is second from left.)

Flash: think no computers, no cordless phones of any kind, no internet, no chat, no what’s up, no what’s anything but for phones in phone booths or in homes that featured a brand new item: a tube TV  with about 3 to 13 channels. Now, I wonder what we all did all day?

Morality was a given…

Every kid knew to cross their fingers if they were going to lie; every guy knew girls were not only softer than boys, but annoyingly smarter as well. Still, none of us perceived a battle of the sexes or a societal wrong that had to be righted. Heck no, elementary school years were filled with just people—guys I palled around with and girls I was thinking about getting to know.

Things started to change in Junior High. (1960ish). The fall out of line and get hung out to dry clicks appeared. Guys and gals mostly formed into three groups: the hoods, the sport rats and the way smart what’s up with that group.

Now, the hoods were bad people because some of them smoked cigarettes and they often wore black shirts. (Really not kidding, and I could almost add, they chewed gum in school) The sport rats, the group I belonged to, never smoked cigarettes and we wore saddle shoes.

Clearly, these huge differences were cause for great concern and animosity. Oddly this huge division between the Hoods and Sport Rats meant the gals had to decide which group to belong to and those lines once drawn rarely, if ever, changed through High School. I once ,’hit it off,’ with a gal from the hoods in history class and we became fast buddies. But, when I suggested a soda, she told me, terrified, “Oh no, I could never do that. My group would go nuts. Plus, you don’t know what I do.” So, I realized she smoked cigarettes….sad.

It was an innocent time compared to the likes of today.

Of course, I was young, free to smell the dandelions as I ran across our neighbors’ yard. I was free to imagine that near about everything America stood for and did was good and right. I was free of a bombardment of contraptions that now give us real-time access to things that are happening beyond our sight!

Please, if you are semi-young, like under 40, Imagine this: there was no news until the six o’clock T.V. broadcast; there was no minute-by-minute news of your friends, no daily breaking political sirens. Even the stock market could rally or crash without a peep until evening. Every thing, every day, was on hold until evening. People went to work without worry or care about daily events until nighttime, until they’d gone home and had a cocktail, a smoke or rest.

In many ways, the multitasking, tied to your smart phone generation is cursed with too much information.

Call me old fashion? Maybe try hiking or camping and leaving, God forbid, your smart phone at home. There’s a world waiting for you to discover, one I grew up in, a world of be here now without interruption from things you can’t change anyway.  There’s a world of freedom waiting for you but for one thing: you can’t put that smart phone down.

If the world today were to sculpt a representative statue of Mankind it wouldn’t be, The Thinker.

No, it would be a person looking down at their smart phone or taking a, ‘Selfie.’

The interactions that sooo many studies show are healthy for us—the eye contact, the smiles, the greetings—are now lost to bent heads looking at smart phones…

No, I’m not old fashion: I’m right. Put your phone down for at least one day per week and see how many eyes look your way. The worlds’ presence will once again be yours to see, and it is amazing.

Franque23 dares you to do it…

Simply amazing.

 

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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
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#2  This Palm Tree Fell Over And Curved Right Back Up
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#3  This Tree Fell Over And Grew 4 More Trees Out Of Itself
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#4  The Only Tree That Survived The Tsunami In Japan Between 70,000 Trees. Now Protected And Restored.
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#5  Tree Of Life – Olympic National Park, Washington
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#6   A Tree’s Root Spill Over The Sidewalk
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#7   Nature FTW
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#8   A Tree Growing Through Speed Limit Sign
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#9  This Tree That Refuses To Die
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#10  This Tree Still Has Its Leaves Because Of The Light Shining On It
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#11  Life Finds A Way
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#12  Tree Roots Extend Across A Gap To The Mainland For Nutrients
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#13  Life Finds A Way
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#14  Ta Promh Temple In Cambodia
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#15  Striving
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#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
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#18 This Tree Is Growing Out Of Another Tree
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#19 This Tree Grew Out Of The Stump Of A Dead Tree And Then The Stump Rotted Away
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#20 A Tree Grows From Third Floor Window
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#21 Life Finds A Way
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#22 I Spent Ages Staring At This Tree Before Taking This Pic. I Hope You Find It As Fascinating As I Did
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#23 This Floating Island That Grew At The End Of A Partially Sunken Tree
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#24 This Wooden Chair My Parents Bought Started Sprouting Leaves
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#25 The Old Piano Tree
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#27 One Tree On My Street Refused To Accept Winter
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#28 My Sister’s Tree Is Eating Her Fence
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#29 This Tree Growing Through A Fence
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#30 Life,Uh… Finds A Way
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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’ve always loved seeing movie footage of the past. It makes this short film below that more special in that I was born and raised just outside of The Big Apple and considered it my stompin’ grounds during my High School days.

More, I’ve had a couple of odd coincidencedinks in life that revolve around my early years spent in New York City. I’d often spent time in  New York City, The Village,  roaming the walk down shops after munching on a seventy-five cent pizza slice. By far, the Leather shops were my favorite to visit. I was immediately attracted to the smell of finished leather goods, their shine, polished to deep warm browns or beige and tan colors.  One shop owner in particular was a bit more out going than most, and that was wrapped by a quick sense of humor all tied together by tremendous wit. His name was, Byan. He stood tall with penetrating dark eyes that glowed above the flash of  his smile. Our conversations were never long but they played in my head usually throughout the following days. Mysterious, that was the word for this fellow.

Fast forward eight or so years and I’m attending a bluegrass festival in Hog Town Creek, just outside Gainesville, Florida. I was singing lead for an agent at that time, traveling to gigs with one of the three bands he managed. I’m thinking my pay was about a flat 75 dollars per week. The music drew me to the festival and there the smell of leather goods at a nearby booth attracted my attention. Sure enough, it was, Byan, running a leather stand. It turned out his parents owned a ranch nearby and he’d left NYC to return to his family’s home. He wanted to learn how to play guitar and I was intrigued with leather work… We traded skills and I ended up being a leather worker running three shops for the next 14 years.

Of course, there’s more. I got to know my wife of 38 years while  learning the leather trade from, Byan. We made items for the local leather shops in Gainesville—there were about four of them in town. I often worked on sewing leather hats of all shapes and sizes. A few years later found my wife and I working into all hours of the night sewing wallets and visors as we started our first leather business. It was years later when all of this came to circle.

Thirty years later, my wife and I visited Denton, England, along with her Brother and his wife. It was there that my wife’s family were once hatters. It turns out they started in Denton and finally made it to New York City and I suspect made ,’a killing,’ as they say in retail. Why? Well just look at what everyone is wearing in the film below. Wow. The story of my wife’s ,’Hatters,’ family is also amazing, but that’s for another time.

Enjoy this glimpse into another era; a time gone by.

One more thing: the air seems much more polluted in this film than it appears to be in New York City now. Maybe too much,’Clean,’ coal back then?

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

 


( added pictures below post…send me your pictures on FB=gerald franquemont)

My cousin’s wife says it all for dog lovers the world over. That post of her’s is included below.

But first, I’ve my own, ‘Shadow,’ a Catahoula Leopard who is my constant companion.

Shadow enjoys the flowers.

From my  parent’s dog, Socks, to our family dogs over the years, I’ve rarely lived without having a dog making home life better.

Socks lived about 18 years.

Man’s best friend: you can’t say it any better.

Orion is one of my favorite, ‘Reading Dogs,’ at the library.

Our part Basenji, Toby, used to prance as he walked so we called him, ‘Toby-Toes.’

Cheers, and a big thanks to Jessica for posting this wonderful piece. Sob; sighs and I understand. There’s nothing like a dog’s ability to love us back.  Here’s Jessica’s post, and just wow.

Jessica with her dog, Pedro.

Jessica Franquemont posted:

“My Buddy Pedro:

Your butt wiggle going down the stairs,
Your gentle bite when taking a treat,
Your wandering security walk along the fence line, 
Your short sunbathing nap by the water fountain followed by a good roll in the red bark to scratch your back with happy doggie snorting & all,
Your old man delay, non-threatening beagle bark, & “swagger run,” when hearing Ellie bark before you at a possible thief/burglar/food thief/mail carrier/neighbor/pizza guy/cat/other dog/kid,
My first time sadness upon seeing an empty Chipotle burrito wrapper on the floor without my left over ½ burrito realizing you are taller than Ellie & can counter surf,
Your first time with me in the pet store when you stole a bone shaped treat off the bottom shelf, tried to eat it, & I had to do a pity purchase with the cashier,
Your sleeping on the couch with your face between the pillows,
Finding your head sticking out of my poofy pink Halloween tutu I left on my bed,
Your gentle mouth hold of a whole loaf of bread/pack of tortillas (& all things carbs) off the “no dog shelf” trying to saunter away,
Your slight pushiness after anyone sat down to proudly lay your 32 pounds in their lap & slip your beagle nose under their hand to prompt neck scratchies for a very long time then get up abruptly when said scratching stops,
Your & Ellie’s patient waiting under messy Talia’s dinner chair for any slight semblance of a crumb,
Your love of TP from any bathroom to your crate with one continuous very long stream of toilet paper,
Your binge on Beth’s Scentsy samples that were only the food scented ones,
You & Tyler’s love for each other,
You being my literal shadow & never letting me be in a room alone.
You lived 12 years & 117 days & we got to re-home you with us for 3 years 250 days. We are a more loving family because of you. Last Thursday a huge chunk of my heart had to say goodbye to you & since then I’ve been devastated & lonely without my short shadow following me. I know by having a loving pet, we as humans pay a price for having to make “that decision.” But the animal lover in me would never have left you alone in your last minutes of your wonderful life. Knowing you had just a little more time & getting to rest my nose one last time on top the bridge of your nose is worth all the heartache. I love & miss you my Pedro Buddy.”

It always come down to this: the love shared with a dog during their short lifetime is worth the pain of the loss no matter how long that lasts…

Cheers!

Franque23 loves dogs.

Here’s a link to a previous glob I wrote in, 2009, about a dog’s spirit.

https://franque23.wordpress.com/2009/08/26/red-dog-forever/

047 (2)Shadow smiling.

43084590_10215968635224417_5309031580214231040_nFrank Lamont

43003389_10216374788097893_7445415606792224768_n Andrew Faint’s , Bo , with his son.

42972010_10158267141797925_1194024646572244992_n

relatives Virginia Murphy Rotteveel…sleep tight.

10981825_10205764348932987_2147238761169876219_n (1)My ‘Shadow’ writer…

42946595_10216374792378000_3421119692406784000_nAndrew Faint’s, Frankie…

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Shakespear, in OR recovery, Wendy Schneider…..

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Yes, this is a hedgehog pet with, Spooky.  They live together. Part of ,Juut Von Franquemont’s group.

 

 

 

 


There’s a morning wind.

Today, from where I sit, the breeze will reach the sea some sixty miles off as it blows east. There, the translucent waves of green and blue roll beneath the calling gulls as the cooling, wet shore line comforts the feet of those strolling by. The shell white sand of the beach waits to be renewed or reclaimed by the pounding surf, and beyond it rises beige, wispy sea oats and dark green sea grapes that root in the dunes. A transforming landscape of sand and grass rises and falls to form a panorama that seems a dried mirror image of the ocean’s undulating surface. The oats will sway in the breeze much like sea weed moves with the ocean current. Here, two realms so different remain joined as one. The wind will touch it all.

It’s a peaceful thought as my coffee scents the air.

There was a time I thought I’d end up living along the shore, in the wind, with the sun, with the sounds and smells of the sea. Mom did as a child in, Recife’, Brazil, and somehow I dreamed I’d be as lucky. She took me to the shore often and taught me the ways of the sea, the surf, the hot sand and how the tiniest shell could sometimes be the most spectacular of the lot found that day. There were those sand crabs to dig after as they burrowed only to be caught so they might wiggle in my palm. We went to the ocean as a family and soon that vast, blue lined horizon became as much a part of ours as dad’s backyard apple blossoms.

Mom by the sea.

Sometimes I wonder if our dreams die like we do, or if they exist forever.

I’ve a good cup of coffee, but the memories are so much better. The wind entices me to wonder. When did I give up on that dream to live by the sea? I should have written the date somewhere.

But, I think I came to Florida in 1971 , in part, to be by the sea.

My wife and I have always visited the sea—our hearts beat with the waves, the light, the clouds and all those rolling, crashing waves.

A unique understanding comes when a person interacts with something as large as a mountain range, a desert, an expansive ocean or anything so vast as the diamond night sky. There’s a sense of oneness with the pebble, sand or shell at your feet, or single star overhead——they are so much like the size of us when compared to the entirety of life.

Ask a mountain climber, a diver or those who love to walk the desert why they do what they do. They will think, ‘Because I do’, and then they will offer words about this or that, words that can never fully explain the gut of the matter. Perhaps, the best way to answer is to say, “The majestic helps clear the clutter.”

Lake Bonaparte has a beauty each day, though different from one day to the next.  The views allow the heart to rest.

We all need to clear the clutter in our heads—the majestic world is our best reflection, our best chance to right the wrongs in our thinking. Our environment is us; say hello.

We need to make peace with ourselves.

Do you remember being ten and testing out a new pair of sneakers? How fast you ran; how you seemed to fly: you’d never be undone!

I’m the 8ish year old with his hand on his hip….and black speed-o

Growing up is fascinating and maybe we never stop owning that same self amazement throughout our lives. Maybe, internally, we all hunger for the truth, a correction in our way of thinking that sets us in place, a certain notion that helps identity our true sense of being in the universe.

My sister and I still meet at the ocean whenever we can…this is Roatan.

Maybe, this understanding is why we yearn to face the magnificent spectrum of life as it appears before us from place to place. It’s more than humbling; it’s being united.

Let’s get together. Let’s listen to the morning wind; it whispers the truth. Good morning.

Franque23.


Please, everyone who wants to, go burn every shoe you have then take a hike.

The question is simple. Is there any kind of war that’s not happening now in America? Randomly, I’d say the only thing most American’s agree upon is that ice cream is at least okay.

All the rest, the North, the South, the Bread Basket zones and Coastal cities, the whites, blacks, minorities against minorities or not, the radical right, left, with the melting pot Brillo-ed out, the rich against the poor, the old in the way of the young, the war on fat or too thin, the what kind of man are you?, what bathroom to use or slate to clean?, no guns or fire away, it’s all up in air lifted and swirled by misunderstanding, hate, fear, mockery and assault.

We’re yelling at ourselves!?!?

Some days, I sit and listen to this song and dance in the living room just to get away from the mess of our society, never mind what I’m wearing. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JiQIisyncY0

(Want to feel better? Listen to Fogerty’s song in the link in this glob and watch the fall clip at the end…cheers! And oh, please forward! Thanks.)

Is America being undone? Or, is American being re-tooled by internal disorder that will lead to a more perfect union? Don’t ask me—I asked you!

Me? I might be in favor of how the Democratic party seems to be changing while I flat-out hate the way the Republican party is heading. Currently, cramming the hearing making process of a Supreme Court nominee down the throats of legislators who in the recent past couldn’t get their guy a hearing for almost a year feels wrong.  It brings to mind warm poop for breakfast. (or anything else as disgusting-use your imagination.)

Yum.. (please tell me this is ice cream.)

On a side, just a thought, has anyone noticed that Trump keeps saying Mueller’s investigation is a , “Witch Hunt,” but only Warlocks have been arrested? So, maybe, Trump should leave women out of this—just saying.

Who else thinks herding teams of lawyers into a padded cell won’t help America out of our grid lock-and-load? How about using a bunch of pandering gerrymandering partisan warring politicians? Yeah, not that either. What to do?

Idea!

We eat ice cream, like all together. American’s should declare a huge Eat Ice Cream day; just do it, and gain weight.

Don’t give up, no matter what, eat the ice cream. Let the ice cream wars begin!

Then we could have a long, 1/2 of a day when we all diet together for a moment. We could skip afternoon snacks, maybe. The bonding we need would begin!

This might not work, but then again think about this: what if American’s saved whatever they could over the course of one year (whahahha, this a funny thought.) and spent it on buying stock in ice cream companies. Then, we all could agree to buy ice cream stocks over the course of one week just prior to Universal Ice Cream Day! Boom! The stocks rocket up; American’s sell their ice cream stock and buy our representatives brooms so they can fly away higher than the stocks before they crash!?!?! Okay, this won’t work either. Why? The plan is perfect but for 1/3 of all working American’s have no savings at all, while another 1/3 of working Americans have 1000 dollars saved.

Basically, American’s have been screwed for so long nails might go out of business.

Bonus picture shows the Beatles traveling in a van doing gigs before anyone knew they liked ice cream too.

Oh sigh, it’s time to study our problems in this country and find solutions. But, it must be hard being a teacher now-a-days. Imagine going from teaching one year that anyone can be president to the next and having to explain why the president is a compulsive liar.

But, change isn’t new in America. Women couldn’t vote at one time and now they get groped by preachers on national T.V.* This sort of change is part of my life, too. I used to drive through a tunnel going to New York City and I marveled at the cops standing on the underground walkways by the road. It all made me feel safe; protected.

Years later, I went back to the city and drove through the same tunnel only to find the cops had been replaced by hookers! It was as if Mad Magazine had come alive. I now have a case of bad tunnel vision.

Oddly, I can’t find a single picture of prostitutes walking these isles as I saw later on…go figure? Thing is, I wondered right then, how did people stop to pick them up?  It never made sense to me.

Relax-eat some ice cream and dream you’ve gone to heaven, or maybe we’re in heaven and meant to enjoy the glitches? If you’re old enough, you might recall a popular song that asked, “What if God were one of us?

But, what if God is all of us?

Even Trump likes ice cream.//wait? What?

Anyway-have the best days you can. And, maybe, chill with the video below. Fall’s a-coming!

Cheers,

Franque23

*https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kuT1I36RVsU


Long before Elvis knew he’d be a star

Or, when Chuck Berry showed the world how to play guitar on Johnny Be Good…

Yes! Even before John Wayne saved the West…

The Morgamont genes were already in motion.

Simply…Two households, both not alike in dignity,
One in fair Iowa, where we lay our scene, and then to the lake,
From ancient grudge of dogs. Socks and Specks, break to new mutiny,
Where pirate blood makes Royal hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two friends
A slew of star-cross’d cousins take each other’s beers;
Whole misadventured piteous throws in the lake
Do with their new sign bury their parents’ strife. (As if…)*

So long ago, before their division, they stood in the same row, but without a boat between them.

My dad(far right) and his sister, Virginia,(middle) had grown from among the flowers in my Grandma’s garden.

So near the Dutch Elm lined streets of Des Moines, Iowa.

And as to my father, neither he nor his dad and brother’s knew before the war what fate lay ahead for their lives and their children’s frolics. The sun shone on every face.

(My Dad, Max, is the oldest next to his dad…before WW 11)

Soon, the brothers split into different war divisions to fight for America. New uniforms were put on, new bonds were made and the flower of family grew beneath the struggle of separation.

My dad stood strong.

His sister, Virginia, met a soldier.

And during the war, the new families met at Grandma Franque’s house in Iowa, or where they could.

My mom helps at the table in Des Moines while my sister, Sharon, seems quite happy!

Here is some very early evidence of the merge to come between the Morgan pirates and Royal Franquemonts!

The die was cast, as my Uncle Mo, Aunt Virginia, and the Roland and John Franquemont group conspire to create history. My grandparents stand helpless to stop it.

My Uncle John and Aunt Donna were too happy to notice how the drift of time was tumbling..

Only the very young, Robin and myself, crying as we were so aware, foresaw the coming, Franquemont, Morgan, Morgamont was near..

Bill and Buzz Franquemont stood in shock while Jim and Joe planned their escape on bikes…

Alas, those Morgans grew a cute bunch. Robin with his Bow tie and Joe with a look that could sell any car he’d driven into the river. Claudia a looker from the start and Ginny realizing she had her hands full.

Yep, in the end, I’ve come to love each and every last one of them—and I’ve met some in far off places…like the two wearing super funny hats…

.

As it turns out, what the Morgan pirates steal best is the theft of the heart.  So back in the day, I guess the grandparents, the parents, they all knew what they were doing and they could not have laid the bonds between our stars stronger.

Maybe the night sky at Lake Bonaparte whispered the truth loud enough so we could hear.

And to think, they’re always there…

Yes, I think Lake Bonaparte can help show the light.**

 

From the old to the new. The lines will continue to grow together, and never apart.

 

On a night to remember Dave Morgan…

(around 1956)..(I’m the sexy kid in the Speedo)

We’ve come together many times at Lake Bonaparte. And of the last two times….

 

(2014)

(2018)

The full moon came over the Morgamont Dock for the first time. (July, 2018)

(Franquemont camp and dock is on the right—the Morgamont deck  is just above)

Cheers

Franque23

  • Read more Shakespeare
  • **Yes, these are actually night sky shots taken at Lake Bonaparte…Thanks for them, Ross Franquemont.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Did you know Alabama found Session to be too racist to be a judge in the 1990’S? This is no joke; really—ALABAMA, people, thought Sessions was a racist!!! Oh my Gosh….and now he’s the head DOJ?

I’m not sure if nothing bothers me or if things bother me so much I can’t bother? Okay, I do bother…

Can we just agree that Trump, to push aside so many of his bad qualities, is a racist?

But that’s not what this post is about—this post is about you and me, no matter who you are.

I had an epiphany this past weekend and it came by way of one simple, short conversation with a guy who I came to like.

Vince drove up on his Harley.  The machine screamed of care with shiny chrome from head to toe, elaborate exhausts, a piggy back seat and good size box in the back adorned with a tiny America Flag decal. The thing purred up to our house as he arrived to look over some work he might do for us. Six- foot, muscular, Vince had just shaved his long hair off for charity but his arms remained strong and his smile bright.

“She’s a beauty; a 2001 with a smooth 2800 rate?( I’d no idea what he was talking about) with a four-stroke. Runs like a top until now; been misfiring, I can’t quite get it .” Vince broke into conversation the minute he caught me eyeing his Harley.

“This thing is beautiful. What a rig! ” I kept wondering if you have to polish the chrome or if it just stays this shiny. (this is a good side view of one like Vince’s machine but it lacks the chrome I think.)

“She’s a honey; she been a great ride.”

I liked this guy. There was no denying I felt him a genuine person, one who wears his feelings on his sleeve and means no harm.

“It’s hard to find a time and place to take her to the limit.” Vince smiled and I absolutely understood. BTW, why is it some car odometers go to 120 mph when you’d be lassoed and court ridden for years if you ever dared?

(I have to digress here….in the 1960’s the road out to parking lot number nine at Jones Beach and then on to fire Island was so deserted you could take your car up to ninety or beyond without much worry.)

“I bet. But, it’s got to be nice to cruise as well.” I marveled at the bike’s beauty.

This picture is fuzzy, but it shows more of how Vince’s chrome worked with the dual exhaust?

“Hell yes, brother.” Vince smiled again.

There’d been something on my mind since Vince first drove up on his Harley and I felt it was safe for me to ask. “Tell me. What do you think about Harley maybe having  to leave the country?” I didn’t even include, ‘because of Trump’s tariffs.’ but I know he knew what I meant.

“Nah.” Vince brush the air before him aside. “That doesn’t mean nothing.”

I stared right at Vince knowing a few things.

1)Vince loved his Harley, and has for years and years. This bike was a passion of his.

2) Vince was a smart guy and knew exactly what I was referring to when I mentioned Harley leaving the U.S. of A…

3) Vince had a conflict of interest between his Harley loving life and his support for Trump.

4) Without a second lost, Vince had effaced himself and his love of his Harley and dove head first into supporting Trump.

5) This moment was so real inside Vince that I’d witnessed a flight or fight reaction from him within one second of time.

6) Vince had chosen to lie to himself rather than entertain having a possible ideological conflict with Trump’s policies.

This is huge! I silently watched a fellow who I knew instantly I could befriend deny his own true heart for a political party.

I thought of all the republican supporting moms who would never want to separate children from their mothers but still support Trump…

I thought of all the republican supporting people who desperately need social security and health care to live but who still, none-the-less, support a party determined to end both…

I thought of all the republicans who aren’t prejudice, but never-the-less support a man and group of republicans who are…

I thought of millions who believe in the Bible but seem to support those who only claim to abide by those principles noted in the book—just ask google to show you the tenants set by Jesus and ones given in the old testament that conflict with current Republican agendas(policies) and be amazed…

I thought as I stared at Vince and my heart sank; it sank for him and for me, and then for America.

I would have told you long ago that a person who deny’s his own true heart for another’s agenda was lost, in so much need of help. And here, right before my eyes, I came to understand that today we have an entire voting force of people who mostly do that exact thing. How can this be? How can a huge lot of good Americans, and I mean that, be so programmed that they vote against the very things they believe in? And when they do, they say–“Aww, that ain’t nothing.”

It is something. It’s a first here in America. American’s are the ones who have always stood for what THEY believe—not for what someone else tells them to believe. Fox and other radio shows have worked their magic and convinced so many to vote against their own hearts….

It’s sorta like a Dracula experience.

Really, what else is it if you vote against your own healthcare, your own social security, your knowledge that taking babies away from mothers is wrong and give up your own soul for something other? How is it that Vince, who loves Harley’s, claims to be good with the company leaving his beloved America? It’s not natural, or good. The republican voter has surrendered their own sense of self for the promise of power and , in this way, an everlasting hold on life.

We’ve never seen this sort of mass hysteria in American politics before and, yes, I’m voting and praying we can turn our American hearts back to good.

One more thing: I’ve been thinking that if Trump’s policies hurt enough people his supporters will turn around and change their allegiance to him and vote Trump out. Now? I don’t see Trump supporters changing their vote no matter what he does.

Franque23

 

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