I hate changing my cloths!!
I always thought firemen had it nice. Wake up, throw both legs in pants and boots, pull up the suspenders, slam a hat on your head and out the door ready for business. No fuss , no muss and no, “ Those socks don’t match your shirt!” nonsense.
Even as a kid I was mystified by the whole “Proper attire” concept. For a brief time I played with paper dolls. These were semi naked versions of Dagwood and Blondie accompanied by paper outfits that were held in place with paper tabs that fit over the figures shoulders.
My father must have been appalled by the idea his son was playing with paper dolls, but he would have been somewhat relieved to know I was much more interested in the semi naked Blondie than the semi naked Dagwood.
Anyway , there were also little back up scenes included in the sets. Dagwood chopping wood, Blondie baking ham, The Party, Church etc. etc.
I never “got” why Dagwood couldn’t split wood in a suit, or why the ham would not have tasted just as good if Blondie wore an evening dress to cook it. For that matter, if Dagwood was so worried about the ham, why didn’t he hand Blondie the ax and get his rear end in the kitchen.
Well, you can see the social havoc I would have unleashed on the world.
Over the years I have tried valiantly to live out my desires. It has not turned out well.
I once transplanted a large shrub from one part of the yard to another. This involved heavy labor and much water. Fully expecting “ Good job” from my lovely spouse, I was surprised to hear consternation in her voice , “ those are your good shoes!!” In her defense the damn things were never worth much after that. The toes curled up and the insides got really rough.
Then there was the hall painting. “ Why is your good shirt polka dotted?” And where is it written that there are “good jeans” in which we should refrain from applying polyurethane? Are there “bad jeans” worn only to clean sheds ??
Nor is it only work. Countless times I have arrived at the door wallet packed, watch wound, keys clutched in hand only to be greeted with, “ Not in that your not!”
This makes no sense. We are invited to celebrate the special events of others lives, their most happy, sacred and emotional moments. Why does this require us to shove our bodies into stiff cloths, drape a rope around our necks and encase our feet in hunks of dead cow?
In fact I believe it is a female conspiracy. Every secretary at school thought it was their job to check if I was appropriately attired. Even my favorite female students took on the job. They would greet me at the door, give me the once over and either nod approvingly or comment, “So the light was out in the closet again.” Or “ So your wife left before you got up this morning.”
Finally I have drawn a line in the sand. I bought a pair of dress up sneakers that perfectly match my suit. Shoes are a thing of the past.

Shenandoah National Park
We just spent a glorious week at Shenandoah National Park. When we arrived Monday, the forest was pretty green, but by Thursday it was in spectacular attire. On the first day we hiked up to the summit of Compton Gap. This meant about a mile and a half on the Appalachian Trail and then another mile on a side trail. The view was nice, but not much different than the Drive itself.
We checked into Skyland and settled down to celebrate out arrival with a bottle of wine on our veranda. Dinner that night was surprisingly good.
After breakfast Tuesday, we hiked into Rose Canyon. It was a very nice walk down, but we had to be back at Skyland by 12:30 so we tried to set a speed record for climbing 1200 feet in 30 minutes. This did not feel at all enjoyable, but we made it back in time to jump on horses and head into White Oak Canyon. Kay really enjoyed herself and wanted to go Wednesday.
Unfortunately, the wind was so bad on Wednesday, that the horses were not allowed to come out and play, so we headed into Luray for breakfast at Uncle Buck’s. Very nice. Once we got back on the mountain we decided to chance the wind and at least start down White Oak. This canyon was on the lee side of the mountain and once we dropped below the ridge, the wind was manageable. The hike was absolutely perfect. There was an Autumn scent in the air, bright blue sky, 60 degree temperatures and just spectacular scenery. A hike of about three miles brought us to the top of the falls. We seriously thought about going the rest of the way down, but several signs warned that the going was very hard and we should rethink it. So we went back up, with the idea of going out of the park and coming up to the falls from the bottom on Thursday.
Once we were back to Skyland, we decided to drive up to Big Meadow and look for bears. I’m still a little confused as to why this was a good idea, but since no bear felt the need to expose himself, it didn’t matter. But Big Meadow was an interesting place to see.
After packing Thursday we, decided to go down Dark Hollow Falls, then hike out onto Big Meadow and then on the way home, try and go up White Oak from the bottom. Instead, we were so captivated by Dark Hollow falls we stayed there for a long time. Then when we got to Big Meadow we took a two mile forest trail and eventually walked into the Meadow.
Sadly, we needed to head for home. We made Carlisle Pa that night and found a delightful English Pub. (Don’t tell my ancestors)
Of course our trip back to Binghamton was made in a rain storm!!. Our journey ended at 2:30 Friday. The cats were thrilled to see us, but the rest of the Village seemed to have survived quite nicely without us.
It was a great trip, with beautiful scenery, sparkling company and surprisingly good food. I would actually go to Skyland just for the dinners.

This is the entertainment system that we did for our friend's cottage. It took awhile to finish but I'm pleased with how it turned out.
We worked the Brew at the Zoo last night. I always enjoy that event. We were passing out drinks and coffee and were located right near the music. The guitar player is a "morning Man" for a local radio station and runs another one called "the bear". 107.5 I think. He and the girl that sang with him were very good. Considering the weather, it was a pretty good turn out. I think they met their goal. I must say I thought it was much better organized than some other years. Today was just a blah day, although the giants won pretty easily so that was good.

Just a Nice Day
I have a confession to make. I Love to work. I like the challenge, I like the feeling of doing something useful, I even enjoy being honestly tired and knowing why. I get a little frustrated when I can’t accomplish as much as I used to, but I bet I can hold my own with other 60 year olds. Today was one of those great days where work was plentiful, the weather was perfect and the company was enjoyable. What more could you ask for?
After my morning walk, we had a nice breakfast, and then headed to the zoo to tear down the old Ed cage and put up the new one.
Two very pleasant young men helped I enjoyed working with them and I enjoyed their company. I was able to keep up with them, but by two thirty I was pretty tired. We finished the job, and it does look good.
We headed home, I read a little, practiced guitar and relaxed. It was a beautiful day, good company and wonderfully fun work. Tonight I will sleep well and feel like I have earned it. Doesn’t get much better than that.

Where did summer go?

Where has the summer gone??
Actually, I know the answer. For me, much of it was spent doing something I really enjoy. Building things I have no idea how to build. To be honest, if I already know how to do it, it hosts little passion for me. Sure I can do it, but it generates about as much interest as taking out the trash, mowing the lawn or washing dishes, jobs I can also do quite well.
So this summer was wonderful. I finished up an entertainment center that involved some intricate angle cuts, did some shelves that required a number of half laps, and then the fun really began.


This looks like a simple installation of a cellar door. The correct way to install it was to have a perfectly flat and square entrance, with room on each side. The bottom of the door is supposed to lie flat on the ground, with the triangular sides raising the door about 25 degrees. As you can see, we had a door that fit in the corner of the house, was everything but square and needed to be angled at about 60 degrees. When I first saw the door at Foland’s, I asked if they had one designed for my house. The reply, “ No, and this one can’t be made to fit.” Just set me thinking. So, here we are.



The next pictures are of the zoo cages. The rectangular one, was not a challenge, but I had to do that one to get a shot at the second one. A six sided bird cage, built as a kit, so it can be taken apart and moved from our house to the zoo sight, and perhaps moved again later. I can’t describe how many fun filled nights I have laid awake trying to figure all the angles and cuts out.
So where did summer go? It was spent having a ball.

Don’t Forget to Say Grace!
The other day I was motoring along, windows down, top open, radio turned up way too high, listening to 60’s music. It occurred to me that the music of the 60’s was so innocent, so positive and hopeful. Of course the cosmic force could not let that pass, so the next song that played was Barry McGuire’s “Eve of Destruction” That song contains one of the great ethical lines of all time.
“Hate your next door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace.”
Joyful little tune!!
But it set the stage for what was to happen next. I opened my E Mail and there was one more hate filled harangue against Obama. This was the usual “He hates whites, He’s a Moslem, He wasn’t born in the USA.” What made it so offensive was the person who sent it. He is a passing acquaintance who deserves great credit for the care he showed a family member when that person was in dire straits. This gentleman went far beyond anything expected or required of him. From time to time he has sent us uplifting, loving messages and has often spoken of his great Christian belief. So how does he , or any other so called “good person” pass on filth like this?
I have a friend who complained that the right wing liberal media was out to get President Bush. I always argued that the media was not right or left wing, it was simply prostituting itself to the highest bidder. That the American public gets exactly what it wants, and it has been told it wants conspiracy and evil people in government and the sky is falling etc. Told by who? That is the amazing thing to me. The Rush Limbaughs and Rusty Skullcaps of the Radio world – ( And I fully apologize for not being able to name any liberal radio idiots- they exist, I just don’t know any names) are making millions of dollars by keeping the idiot fringe scared and angry. Father Coughlin* was an early version of this, but at least he could claim a legitimate hatred for England as his motivating factor. Today’s “experts” can only claim greed.
This is never to say, don’t disagree with ideas you don’t agree with. You think the cost of Health care is too high? Good for you. You want the thing paid for? I agree. You are nervous about “ a faceless government official making medical decisions about you? Me to, although I am happier with them than a faceless Insurance official making the same decision. But instead of valuable discussions that might bring us together, we have turned the discussion over to the morons.
Remember Sarah Palan’s Death Panels? Seems one of the big legislative initiatives of Sarah’s governor career was to get end of life counseling for Alaskans. I would highly commend her for that. Oren Hatch thought it was such a good idea he introduced Legislation into the Senate several times trying to get it covered by Medicaid. Suddenly, when suggested by a Democratic President, it’s a horrible idea. How do you spell Hypocrite?
There are still “Birthers” out there waiting to join the “Plug Uglies “ and “No Nothing Party” stalwarts. America has survived ignorance before, but not all of its members have. The last time we had this level of hate out in the open was during John Kennedy’s Presidency. While all the hate spewing fools may not pull the trigger, they most certainly are loading the gun.
And the latest outcry because the President of the United States wants to speak to the school children and tell them to work hard and stay in school? Rush decided that was a plot to indoctrinate the poor children because one idea was for children to write to the President with ideas of how they might help him. DUH!! President George Herbert Bush sat in front of an elementary classroom and suggested they might write to him with their ideas of how to help him.
So for me, enough. If good people stay quiet, evil will get a grip. If you want to make fun of Obama’s ears, or chide him about a specific program or hang him for something he actually does, fine, that’s part of being President. But the vicious, filthy hate mongering scare tactics being hyped by many of our “leaders”? All that shows is how frightened they are of ideas. Spare me!

*Father Coughlin was an Irish Canadian Priest who coined the term Social Justice. Unfortunately, while an early supporter of Franklin Roosevelt, when Roosevelt cozied up to Winston Churchill, Coughlin could not overcome the hatred many Irish felt for the founder of the Black and Tan in Ireland and started to apologize for Hitler. It seemed in his mind that anyone who bombed England couldn’t be all bad!! Coughlin commanded a gigantic radio audience and used it to be a thorn in Roosevelt’s side until Pearl Harbor.

Cellar Door
“Writers Write.” I was told that by an accomplished author many years ago. His point was that the human mind needs to create. If a person is to remain in balance they must feed that creative need. The outlet can come in a multitude of ways. Music, art, cooking, building, theatrics and so on to the ends of imagination. For writers, they need to write so they write.
I always wanted to “be” a writer, but each time I started to take it seriously, a dark part of me escaped into the writing and then into my life. Plus, it was hard work. The stories came easily, but each story required rewriting, rewriting and more rewriting to get every word “working”. Then the inevitable realization that your best was not yet good enough. OUCH!! Now I see another truth. I might want to write, but I didn’t need to write.
All my creative needs were being met in other ways. Teaching was a gigantic outlet, until I went to C Fred. As a teacher, I was loud, messy and often kept a dull subject interesting by outlandish presentations. If jumping on a table and doing a dance livened up verb formation, so much the better. Since much of History is about insanity, it requires insane action to make it live. My classes “claimed” the New World by planting a flag and claiming a part of the classroom. When several claims to the exact same set of desks became evident, we solved the problem. Given the fact that Governments have the same patience and tolerance of fifth graders, the solution was pretty evident. Who hits who the hardest has the most legitimate claim to the desks {land} .
Want to get kids attention? Rip a dollar bill into quarters, another into tenths and a third into twentieths and have a discussion about fractions and money. You’ve just invested three dollar, and yes, some of the kids remember the destruction of money and miss the point, but a lot more have a sudden interest in learning.
At any rate, my need for creativity was expressed through teaching until we were all moved to C. Fred. The lack of walls made my methods annoying to everyone else.
Which made me miserable.
Which made me crave writing.
Which made me a serious writer for about a year. My rejection slips went from preprinted “ You’ve got to be kidding!!” to handwritten “ Sorry we can’t use this piece of writing, but please send us more.” But by that time, I had found the shop a C Fred and basketball at C Fred and a way to get back to my old methods and I no longer needed to write.
When I retired, I assumed part of my time would be spent writing. Instead, I tried insanity for several years. The cure for that, rather than a bottle of pills, was to spend a long time with Dr. Hall learning why I was nuts in the first place. Remarkably, ( or not surprisingly) it also sent my lifetime dark companion someplace far away. One of the few old friends I do not miss.
At present, when I am in the middle of doing boring, mundane chore type jobs, my creative needs are met by writing. Part of that writing is this -- whatever this is--. But often creative needs are met in building projects that capture my interest. This summer it was an entertainment center, a set of shelves, a cage for the zoo and my cellar door. I know the title of this is cellar door and it’s what this started to be about, but sometimes things don’t turn out the way we planned. The cellar door story will come later. So, if a period of time passes without a new entry, rejoice because it just means the balance of life is being met in another fashion.
And I cannot claim to be a writer because “Writer’s write.”