Bring Me That Horizon

Welcome to jennyweber dot com

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Home of Jenny the Pirate

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This will go better if you

check your expectations at the door.

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We're not big on logic

but there's no shortage of irony.

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 Nice is different than good.

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Oh and ...

I flunked charm school.

So what.

Can't write anything.

= Jennifer =

Causing considerable consternation
to many fine folk since 1957

Pepper and me ... Seattle 1962

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Belay That!

This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.

= Jenny the Pirate =

Hoist The Colors

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I am a Blue Star Mother

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Insist on yourself; never imitate.

Your own gift you can present

every moment

with the cumulative force

of a whole life’s cultivation;

but of the adopted talent of another

you have only an extemporaneous

half possession.

That which each can do best,

none but his Maker can teach him.

= Ralph Waldo Emerson =

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Represent:

The Black Velvet Coat

In The Market, As It Were

 

 

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Contributor to

American Cemetery

published by Kates-Boylston

A Pistol With One Shot

Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.

Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.

And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.

Dying Is A Day Worth Living For

I am a taphophile

Word. Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Great things are happening at

Find A Grave

If you don't believe me, click the pics.

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Dying is a wild night

and a new road.

Emily Dickinson

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REMEMBRANCE

When I am gone

Please remember me

 As a heartfelt laugh,

 As a tenderness.

 Hold fast to the image of me

When my soul was on fire,

The light of love shining

Through my eyes.

Remember me when I was singing

And seemed to know my way.

Remember always

When we were together

And time stood still.

Remember most not what I did,

Or who I was;

Oh please remember me

For what I always desired to be:

A smile on the face of God.

David Robert Brooks
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 Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.

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Keep To The Code

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You Want To Find This
The Promise Of Redemption

Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;

But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:

In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.

For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.

For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;

Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;

Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.

For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.

So then death worketh in us, but life in you.

We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;

Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.

For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.

For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;

While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

II Corinthians 4

Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.

~ Ronald Reagan

Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Not Without My Effects

My Compass Works Fine

The Courage Of Our Hearts

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Daft Like Jack

 "I can name fingers and point names ..."

And We'll Sing It All The Time
  • Elements Series: Fire
    Elements Series: Fire
    by Peter Kater
  • Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    by Danny Wright
  • Grace
    Grace
    Old World Records
  • The Hymns Collection (2 Disc Set)
    The Hymns Collection (2 Disc Set)
    Stone Angel Music, Inc.
  • Always Near - A Romantic Collection
    Always Near - A Romantic Collection
    Real Music
  • Copia
    Copia
    Temporary Residence Ltd.
  • The Poet: Romances for Cello
    The Poet: Romances for Cello
    Spring Hill Music
  • Nightfall
    Nightfall
    Narada Productions, Inc.
  • Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    RCA
  • The Pity Party: A Mean-Spirited Diatribe Against Liberal Compassion
    The Pity Party: A Mean-Spirited Diatribe Against Liberal Compassion
    by William Voegeli
  • The Art of Memoir
    The Art of Memoir
    by Mary Karr
  • The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    by Emily Dickinson
  • Among The Dead: My Years in The Port Mortuary
    Among The Dead: My Years in The Port Mortuary
    by John W. Harper
  • On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    by William Zinsser
  • Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    by Steven Milloy
  • The Amateur
    The Amateur
    by Edward Klein
  • Hating Jesus: The American Left's War on Christianity
    Hating Jesus: The American Left's War on Christianity
    by Matt Barber, Paul Hair
  • In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms
    In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms
    by Dr. Laura Schlessinger
  • Where Are They Buried (Revised and Updated): How Did They Die? Fitting Ends and Final Resting Places of the Famous, Infamous, and Noteworthy
    Where Are They Buried (Revised and Updated): How Did They Die? Fitting Ends and Final Resting Places of the Famous, Infamous, and Noteworthy
    by Tod Benoit
  • Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays
    Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays
    by Candace Savage
  • Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans
    Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans
    by John Marzluff Ph.D., Tony Angell
  • Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    by Andrew Breitbart
  • 11 Principles of a Reagan Conservative
    11 Principles of a Reagan Conservative
    by Paul Kengor
  • Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds
    Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds
    by Bernd Heinrich
  • Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    by Matthew Rolston
  • Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    by Todd Harra, Ken McKenzie
  • America's Steadfast Dream
    America's Steadfast Dream
    by E. Merrill Root
  • Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    by Alexandra Day
  • Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    by Lynne Truss
  • The American Way of Death Revisited
    The American Way of Death Revisited
    by Jessica Mitford
  • In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    Master Books
  • Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    by Peter Schweizer
  • Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    by Brannon Howse
  • Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow: The Tragic Courtship and Marriage of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Alice Ruth Moore
    Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow: The Tragic Courtship and Marriage of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Alice Ruth Moore
    by Eleanor Alexander
Easy On The Goods
  • Waiting for
    Waiting for "Superman"
    starring Geoffrey Canada, Michelle Rhee
  • The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    starring Bette Davis, Ernest Borgnine, Debbie Reynolds, Barry Fitzgerald, Rod Taylor
  • Bernie
    Bernie
    starring Jack Black, Shirley MacLaine, Matthew McConaughey
  • Remember the Night
    Remember the Night
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, Fred MacMurray, Beulah Bondi, Elizabeth Patterson, Sterling Holloway
  • The Ox-Bow Incident
    The Ox-Bow Incident
    starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Mary Beth Hughes, Anthony Quinn, William Eythe
  • The Bad Seed
    The Bad Seed
    starring Nancy Kelly, Patty McCormack, Henry Jones, Eileen Heckart, Evelyn Varden
  • Shadow of a Doubt
    Shadow of a Doubt
    starring Teresa Wright, Joseph Cotten, Macdonald Carey, Patricia Collinge, Henry Travers
  • The More The Merrier
    The More The Merrier
    starring Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, Charles Coburn, Bruce Bennett, Ann Savage
  • Act of Valor
    Act of Valor
    starring Alex Veadov, Roselyn Sanchez, Nestor Serrano
  • Deep Water
    Deep Water
    starring Tilda Swinton, Donald Crowhurst, Jean Badin, Clare Crowhurst, Simon Crowhurst
  • Sunset Boulevard
    Sunset Boulevard
    starring William Holden, Gloria Swanson, Erich Von Stroheim, Nancy Olson, Fred Clark
  • Penny Serenade
    Penny Serenade
    starring Cary Grant, Irene Dunne, Edgar Buchanan, Beulah Bondi
  • Double Indemnity
    Double Indemnity
    starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, Porter Hall, Jean Heather
  • Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    starring Gary Anthony Williams
  • Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Passion River
  • It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    starring Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert
  • Stella Dallas
    Stella Dallas
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, John Boles, Anne Shirley, Barbara O'Neil, Alan Hale
  • The Iron Lady
    The Iron Lady
    starring Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Harry Lloyd, Anthony Head, Alexandra Roach
  • Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    starring Peter Sallis, Anne Reid, Sally Lindsay, Melissa Collier, Sarah Laborde
  • The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    starring Red Balloon
  • Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    starring William Holden, Don Taylor, Otto Preminger, Robert Strauss, Harvey Lembeck
  • The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    starring Ginger Rogers, Ray Milland
  • My Dog Skip
    My Dog Skip
    starring Frankie Muniz, Diane Lane, Luke Wilson, Kevin Bacon
  • Sabrina
    Sabrina
    starring Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn, William Holden, Walter Hampden, John Williams
  • The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    starring Cary Grant, Myrna Loy, Shirley Temple, Rudy Vallee, Ray Collins
  • Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    starring Johnny Depp, Geoffrey Rush, Orlando Bloom, Keira Knightley, Jack Davenport
  • Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    starring Bette Davis, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, Gladys Cooper, John Loder
  • The Trip To Bountiful
    The Trip To Bountiful
  • Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
    Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
That Dog Is Never Going To Move

~ RIP JAVIER ~

1999-2016

Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

Simple. Easy To Remember.

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Tuesday
Jun232009

What You Do Is ...

... you try, try, try, and try again ... until you get it right.  C'est si bon!

Thursday
Jun182009

Of Bands, Boys, And Birds

Last weekend some dear friends in Hickory, North Carolina, took TG and me out to eat at an Italian ristorante named DaVinci's. Excellent. Unlike Olive Garden, they don't put garlic in the water. In my book that is a definite plus.

Also a happy circumstance at DaVinci's (besides the warm bread, the impeccable service, and my perfect baked ziti, that is) was the thoroughly unexpected strolling string trio! Just like in the movies! I'd never actually experienced a wandering string trio so this was a milestone for me. TG, I, and our friends were enjoying delightful postprandial conversation when the talented triumvirate seemed to drift out of nowhere to serenade us and our fellow diners.

Laugh; have fun. Life is short.

One on mandolin, one on guitar, and one on violin, the mobile musicians started out with the classic O Sole Mio ... and progressed to some lively tarantella or another that I recognized but cannot name. It was charming and much appreciated.  Bellissimo!

Speaking of Italian, music, and O Sole Mio, check out these three young men ... with the emphasis on young ... or is the emphasis on music? You decide. They may be barely of the age to fully appreciate being introduced on nazionale television by a woman who is apparently Italy's answer to Dolly Parton. Be that as it may, they seem to have already attracted some pretty female fans!

Regardless, these boys could very well be channeling (in a masculine way) Sophia Loren who famously said: "Everything you see I owe to spaghetti."

The oldest of the three -- Piero Barone, the one wearing glasses who might be good if he took a voice lesson or two -- has seen only fifteen summers. His equally stellar amici, Gianluca Ginoble and Ignazio Boschetto, are each only fourteen. Move over, Il Divo! Mercy. So much talent; so little time.  Sew these boys into some Armani tuxes and get Simon Cowell's peeps on the horn, chop chop!

(While the couture tailors are at it may I have one one of those blouses like the lady orchestra members are wearing? I think I'd look adorable in a blouse with cream silk rosettes decorating the neckline and black lace on the sleeves. Thanks ever so.)

I wish Piero, Gianluca, and Ignazio the best and hope they are not spoiled by the fame and fortune that is undoubtedly within their reach. Ciao! Grazie tante!

This next one is for the birds ... literally. Hey, PeTA ... it's just a cartoon; 'k? No birds were harmed or stripped or defeathered or fricasseed or pecked or dislodged or embarrassed in the making of this hysterically funny film. Keep after President Obama for his singularly brutal murder of that fly, though. You have my blessing on that one.

As to the birds: watch their eyes. Listen to their chatter. Laugh; have fun. Life is short.

 

Monday
Jun082009

A Rune For June

Although it probably should be, June is not my favorite month; that would be October. For reasons unknown to me, I am enamored of autumn above all other seasons. But on a recent evening as I walked in the humid gloaming, I considered the many faces and the sure fate of comely June. 

June traces the lightning bug's glimmer, the cicada's whir, and the susurrus of warm wind in full-leafed overreaching branches to where time lapses into a pink-hued memory of effortless days. June at its coolest is a languid float in sparkling water; June at its hottest is the ronron of the pool pump and the clack of busy squirrels in tall pines.

June of all the months casts the tenderest, most wistful glance backward, and does it with dewy singing eyes. Sequestered in the soul of June is all the poignancy of all the love that ever was. Its roses, its moons, its skies, its blossom-scented air, its very existence summons belief in the all-wise God who put into motion all of June's excesses and all of its romances.

In June's going is the first peeking tendril of winter.

My Savior found me on a June night in 1971 at Camp Stallion in St. Helena Parish, Louisiana. I had never heard the gospel presented until the moment when Brother Miller, Youth Director of Weller Avenue Baptist Church in Baton Rouge, told the group of teenagers assembled around a marshmallow-roasting fire of The One Who had died to take away their sins.

I don't remember if anyone besides me believed on Him that night; I only know that I did.

When June moved on, so did our fractured little family ... to Atlanta, that is, where at Forrest Hills Baptist Church I was baptized in obedience to Christ's command. On June 16, 1979, I became a happy bride only a few feet from the baptismal waters where I had professed my faith eight years before.

For thirty Junes it has been my privilege to be the wife of a precious Christian man ... and the fortunate mother of our four children, who serve the Lord even as adults. June, the midpoint of every swift-footed twelvemonth, distinctly reminds me of something I cannot afford to forget: the miraculous goodness and longsuffering of God.

And so to me, June's beauty and grace softens the calumnies of mankind ... if only for a moment. In an untouched June morning resides the clear light of forgiveness. June with its eager ambivalence embodies the siren call of wanderlust, the promise of adventure, the happy fact of a lengthy journey completed.

A June dawn beckons. A June day bestows. A June evening blesses. A June night beams. June's outrageous lambency and utter truthfulness increases flagging faith and soothes the bitter gall of heartbreak.

June's plangent song rides smoothly on its own fragrant breezes, heavy with nostalgia. June coos to its infants, laughs with its children, whispers to its brides, counsels courage to its aged, mourns with its dying. June inspires the poet, the lover, the artist, the builder, the naturalist, and the child of God.

When June at last languishes it lays to rest a measure of summer's innocence. June is a trembling novice, a brave knowing soul, a seasoned conspirator. June's gentle advances tune our beings to July's intemperate excesses, prepare us for August's overbearing and overlong contention.

June remembered is an unhurried embrace, a beseeching look, the final caress of a departing love. June forgotten is still, silent bells and an empty shell-strewn shore.

In June's going is the first peeking tendril of winter. Where Junes go, down light paths and dark, we follow.

And the glorious beauty, which is on the head of the fat valley, shall be a fading flower, and as the hasty fruit before the summer; which when he that looketh upon it seeth, while it is yet in his hand he eateth it up. In that day shall the LORD of hosts be for a crown of glory, and for a diadem of beauty, unto the residue of his people. ~Isaiah 28:4-5

Wednesday
Jun032009

I Have A Silly Dream

As a recent blog post revealed, I still roam the Earth without benefit of an electronic global positioning system. I pretty much live by the credo "Wherever you go, there you are." When that's not quite enough, I have found MapQuest to be invaluable as I navigate the Palmetto State and points beyond.

Sometimes I even go by road signs.

Be that as it may, our techno-savvy eldest daughter and son-in-law have added GPS to their ever-growing repertoire of non-human helps. As they were packing up to leave our house after Memorial Day festivities, I checked out the gizmo where it perched on their dash like an exotic -- if squarish -- bird, its lengthy power cord resembling a licorice shoestring.

By and large the grownups' lingo was arcane to our ears.

I had some questions and my daughter was eager to answer them. She showed me how, by simply touching the bright screen, one can map a route from here to there while pinpointing the location of fueling centers, retail outlets, lodging chains, and fast food joints along the way. Hungry? The GPS will tell you in an audible voice how far you are from the next Happy Meal.

When I was growing up we spent a lot of time on the road. Most days you were happy just to have a meal.

Whether for a ten-block or a ten-hour trip, my grandchildren are strapped like jet pilots into government-regulation car seats from which they are not supposed to be removed as long as the car is in Drive. Their father is a pastor.

My sister and I spent a significant portion of our young lives rattling around in a stolen (yes, stolen ... instead of GPS we had GTA) baby blue Nash Rambler driven by a criminal. The getaway car, as it were. I often used the back window as a bed. I was long and thin; on a sudden stop I resembled a pencil falling off a ledge.

Not only was our vehicle hot; its interior was also an un-airconditioned environment. On too-warm days while wearing shorts your bare thigh-backs stuck peskily to the vinyl of the backseat, but you were mercifully unrestrained. In the free and relatively innocent America of my unconventional childhood, the breeze through Mama and Daddy's wing vents was scented with dreams.

My grandchildren, who have never ventured west of the Mississippi, are driven hither and yon in a Nissan the color of cranberries. In addition to the voice of the GPS telling Daddy and Mommy where to turn, as likely as not a road trip will include listening to either or both parents chatting on mobile phones to one relative, friend, or parishioner or another.

My sister and I tried (with limited success) to keep from fighting on our extended "vacations" while watching the backs of Mama and Daddy's heads for any signs we were in trouble. By and large the grownups' lingo was arcane to our ears, but I in particular listened for Mama to mention stopping at an A&P where we could buy a Spanish Bar Cake and maybe a soda pop to share.

At any rate, whatever level of conversation existed within our automobile's cozy environ was exchanged between persons entirely present. Repartee was often punctuated by the skitch! of a match on a tiny sandpaper strip as Mama or Daddy lit up. My nostrils loved the aroma of the first sweetish puffs before the smoke turned acrid, and my eyes loved watching the cigarette's tip glow neon orange as a parental unit inhaled.

I long for the America I remember.

The perky GPS provides clues to my son-in-law regarding the available places to purchase gasoline. The huge, shiny C-stores and string of computerized fueling islands are so unlike the dinky filling stations we frequented. I can still hear the dull ding ... ding ... ding of the Sinclair Dino pump as our Rambler hungrily nursed, and I still love the smell of idling engine exhaust.

We had maps. Folded like elaborate fans into flat, space-saving oblongs, when unfurled they became half-acre charts to anywhere. Their many shapes of pastel green, yellow, and blue, splayed with red veins and chockablock with infinitesimal words and symbols, were fascinating to me. I can still imagine the feel of the cool indifferent paper and see the furry seams where they had been creased one time too many.

And as our sturdy tires carried us, untethered, from town to town, county to county, state to state, region to region, from one landscape to the next, there was the certainty of adventure and the possibility of rich experience. Come weal or woe, the road afforded deft deliverance and life concealed a glowing ruby beneath its tongue.

I fear for my grandchildren's future. They have security and a birthright and access to truth that I did not have, but I am beginning to wonder if they will enjoy the personal liberties I have never been asked to live without. As technology waxes, what good is it if freedoms wane?

One of my favorite things to say is, "You can never go back ... and why would you want to?" I'm going to stop saying that. I want to go back to the America I knew as a child. Unborn children were safer there. We had problems but we worked them out without apologizing for what our beloved country was all about in the first place.

I long for the pre-GPS America that I remember, and I want it back for my grandchildren. I know it's a silly dream, but then I've always been a dreamer. 

Tuesday
Jun022009

Democrats On An Escalator

Peeps, I've been uncommonly busy but I'm working on a real, actual blog post for you! Until then, here's a little something that made me grin today.

Think about that in a few years when you're driving an electric tin can around town, thanks to the Obamination.