Friday, June 30, 2017

Girls and Guns

We see a girl with a gun today and we think, Oh that's Hot...

In the past, if we saw a girl with a gun we just might be a little more worried.

We see a lot of models with guns, and the impression left is that of we're safe as long as they don't


Back in the day...
Might be a little more serious
Definitely not as HOT

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Lynyrd Skynyrd - Sweet Home Alabama

There will be no more photos of my girls

No longer will you see my two girls parked near each other...

Jenny has left home and is out on her own now, Mikes famous picked her up yesterday morning..

Today I sat at Mikes waiting to see the offer, which I accepted. 

But I was uncomfortable sitting there....
 A group of Metrics kept staring at me, it was down right un-nerving.

Sweetest thing (bathroom fake boobs)

Speaking of School and Ancient practices...

Today, a child is playing football at an elementary school, he is running for a touchdow, trips, catches his arm on a guide wire for a power pole which has unraveled wires and lacerates his arm 6 inches long, there would be total panic, telephone calls to 9-1-1, the schools lawyers, the parents, the electric company and from the parents a call to their lawyers, This is because this country has become the Litigation Capital of the World.

Back in the 1960's, I was that kid, the arm laid open between the elbow and 4 a couple inches shy of the wrist. I stood up, holding my left arm with my right, angled with the wound upwards, blood pouring out in both directions, I walked to the School office. The walk left a blood trail from the play ground, across the parking lot, and half the length of the school hallway as I made my way there. (Stopping occasionally for other students to check it out and tell me how cool it was). 

On arrival at the office, the School receptionist looked at the arm and went into the back office to get the principal,(Mister Franzone), He came out of his office, walked up to me, looked at my arm, made a quick phone call to my mother, then we walked to his car and he drove me to get medical attention. Now 1967, there was no 9-1-1, an ambulance back then performed no service but fast transport, and except for local Doctors offices, the only medical facility was the Hospital in New London and one in Westerly Rhode Island. 

He drove me at a leisurely rate, talking like you would on any other day. He asked if we were winning the football game or losing. We arrived for medical treatment, at my house. My mother was waiting in the door, they took me into the bathroom, washed off the wound, sprayed some type of foamy stuff on it, probably Bacitracin, then while my mother held my arm, he attached adhesive pads to one side of the arm, they squeezed the wound closed, and pulled the pad tight, sticking it to the other side of the wound. no stitches, no lawyers, no Doctors. I went into my room as the principal and my mother had coffee in the kitchen, Then, much to my disapproval, I was guided back to the Principal's car, and returned to school for the rest of the day.

So because there were no stitches, and flesh stretches, the wound was never what you could call, tightly sealed during the healing process, so along my left arm today is a bad ass looking 6 inch scar.

Someday I'll tell you about falling 30 feet out of a tree on neighbors property and landing on soft earth between two large rocks, or running through the woods on another neighbors property and having a branch push into my eye socket between the socket and eyeball. Perhaps I will tell you about having to have a 2 inch long swamp rotted stick surgically removed from my left leg, or jumping backwards off a Bulldozer floor, not making it far enough and removing skin and bone chips from my calves as I impacted the track. then of course there was the time I got yelled at for leaning back in a metal highchair and making a mess of the kitchen. The mess was all the blood as the chair kicked out and cut the back of my heels off. 

I'll tell you, If I were a kid today, we would be millionaires in this land of Sue.

A Report on Conservation

Back in 1970, When I was in the 5th grade I had to write a report for science. So I chose Conservation, so camera in hand I went out into the world. The 70's was the beginning of the anti-pollution era. 
I took photos of the sewerage pipes dumping into the Mystic River, garbage thrown along the roadways, and just about anything else I could attach to this report. I sat down and wrote the report and was really proud of it. The teacher graded it giving it a A-. I was upset at the time because of all the extra work and the photos and she had given it an A-. 

Cleaning out my parents belongings not long ago I came across the report. The big Red A- scrawled across it, some red marks on the pages for spelling, I sat down and read it.

After careful consideration I have determined that the teacher was a total Idiot! This report sucked, it reads like it was written by a 10 year old. I would have given it a D at best.

Size Matters