Saturday, May 30, 2009


We attended our son's graduation from high school May 26.

It would not have been possible without our homeschooling him til about three years ago -s-.

Past the 'pomp and circumstance' it left me thinking of the present and past.

Our son is preparing to step forth into the future. Yet the future is the present day by day. And the past is just a moment ago.

Waxing philosophically, we are the sum of the past.

The event took place on the North side of Indianapolis. That's my home turf. I grew up quite near Clowes Hall, the theater where the graduation took place.

I haven't traipsed about up there for some time. So, after, we took a tour of my old neighborhood.

It's changed. Physically there are new paint jobs, landscapping, even a few new buildings. Also, some places are gone.

Hamaker Pharmacy, one of the oldest family owned drugstores, is closed. I used to go there for my comic books. I used to buy my Grandpa's cigarettes there (When it was unpc for kids to buy tobacco.). Prescriptions were frequently filled there. And I used to get Stewart 'drugstore sandwiches' at the fountain counter, washed down with lime phosphates. Those sandwiches were horrible 'meat' concoctions with cheese and spices, heated in a toaster oven. The lime drinks were fizzy limeade mixtures. Ugh! They were great! Well at the time lol. I think I'm eating better now (usually).

It was sad to drive by the vacant building that housed Hamaker's. The saddest thing was to see the name 'J. Hamaker and Son Pharmacy' still stencilled above the door. For many now living there or passing through, it might be like seeing a 'ghosttown' storefront. So quiet, a little hollow but with an undercurrent of memory for those who care.

Mr. Hamaker was one of my Dad's clients for his inventory service. We used to call it 'Haymaker's' goodnaturedly. My Dad had nicknames for a lot of people and things lol.

There used to be a lot of small stores in the area. Mr. Burke's hardware store was just blocks away east near College Avenue.

It was dark and cool there. Small shelves and nail bins, hammers and saws. Not too much electrical stuff then -s-.

In the back was a weekly meeting of the Buzzard's Roost. My Grandpa, Mr. Burke and a couple other guys would pass the whiskey bottle and opine on their past and the current events etc.

His wife was a music teacher. We used to visit the house and I'd play with the metronome and play the xylophone. When they sold the property next door to a church, I'd stand in the big picture window when they let out on Wednesdays. Oh yes, with my Frankenstein mask, hands and feet adorning me. Didn't scare too many people though tsk tsk (You guessed it. I was a prankster.).

Mr. Burke also bred prize Beagles. I often had a new litter of pups to play with. I also helped take care of them and the parent dogs.

One thing that struck me as we drove by the house where I grew up. (BTW I attended all eight grades of grade school, which was only 3 blocks away. I got to walk home for lunch every day. Just to throw another unpc note in, during the eighth grade, I'd cap lunch with a cigarette. Back then, smoking was common. Smoke nazis were relegated to Hitler -s-. And I quit cigs in 91. Not because anyone legislated my behavior. I figured it out on my own. Seems free will was commoner even in 91.) Things seemed smaller. Yards, houses, even streets. Like the water fountains at grade school that progressively shrank as I got older and bigger. Shrinking like our Freedom?

In 'the old days' did we have more Freedom? Legislatively, yes. Mentally yes, but it was taken for granted. WW2 had been won. It supposedly instituted a new era of Freedom. It actually heralded the beginning of the end of our Constitutional Republic.

Mentally and psychologically and I would say, spiritually, many became stagnant, taking for granted our gifts. Now we have devolved to the point that Freedom is given away. In spite of the fact that there are multitudes that cherish our heritage, politics have refashioned us into a burgeoning democracy. With the aid of leftist Hollyweird and the Fifth Column, um that is the Fourth Estate aka the 'mainstream press', hearts and minds are twisted and shrunken to accept the spewings of our usurper to the Oval Office and his henchmen.

Empty vessels must be filled. We must seek to refill folks with the Truth, ie, our history and heritage.

When I was in school, there were of course, attempts to turn us. Thanks to my love of history, my imagination and intellect survived intact, greatly due to my brother and teachers and war veterans who were from a time when we were still a Constitutional Republic.

The color of the house I was raised in has changed from white to a rust red. As far as colors go, I like it. But symbolically, we have indeed turned from a glistening white to the red of communism.

As our son steps into his role in history as a Marine officer one day, he will take that sacred Oath. It has not changed. To protect and defend the Constitution against all enemies foreign and domestic. An Oath that though not changed, has been compromised. I believe it could devolve to mean protecting and defending the president who will drive more nails in our coffin, inless we stop it.

Are we dead yet? Though I hint we are doomed, are we done? NO.

We are seriously wounded but we have what it takes to take the Republic back.

We owe that to those who taught us. Our kids owe it to us when they are taught to step forth.

Past present and future meld. All our yesterdays converge.

Today is the beginning not of the end, but of the 'now' that is our opportunity to take back what is ours.

When I Die

When I die, there will be things left undone.

A book half read, a script 3/4's done.

Challenges left, mountains to climb. People to meet. When I die.

When I die, I hope I've said my piece.

I hope I've left a record.

What I've done, how I feel, what I think. When I die.

When I die, I will have wasted time. Sometimes

Diverted, mind wandered, minutiae muddled.

Many roads, one destination. When I die.

When I die, there will be issues faced. Eye to eye.

I will not flinch, I will meet them and go on.

I will leave stones unturned. When I die.

When I die, I hope I will have used my time.

I hope I will have taught others well

To finish what we started. When I die.

When I die, carry on. Make a mark, strike a blow.

Don't worry, there is work enough for history.

There will be more work for me. When I die.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Smile For The Camera

It's what a drug dealer said I should do one night. This guy was yet again one of the myriad druggers we have had to deal with in the 'hood' or Near East side of Indy.

I talked about a near takedown of a pedo/drug dealer in If It Saves One

This incident involved firearms as well.

This time, we had been harrassed by a family that lived just north of the alley near us. It began when we cautioned their kids to stay out of our yard. These kids literally had boundary problems. It's part of that lack of discipline/responsibility so familiar these days along with unrestrained violence aka not caring who gets hurt.

These guys were burglars, thieves and crack dealers. The op was fairly widespread. They even had a contact at the East District, IMPD. Only One druggers, yep.

We noticed them unloading a 'shipment'. I began taping the for faces plates etc. They saw me and tried to flank us. We watched and I had my 45 ready.

The 'daddy' actually asked me why I was doing this. Well, um so we didn't have dealers in our hood. They bring the commensurate violence that rots whole blocks as well as the poison of drugs (Legalize it and let em buy it openly. Then those who want to die can legally.). As he walked away, he said for me to 'smile for the camera'.

We soon found out what that meant (Figured it anyway.). Here came the cops to the door. The interesting thing is I never talked to them. My wife brilliantly countered the accusations. Quite a sight to behold.

The druggers tried the old 'he has a gun and brandished it' bs. My wife reiterated what had gone down complete with a brief history of encounters including arrests at our 'neighbors'.

The older cop was very insistent. His attitude was belligerent. Guess he was hoping to bag an inner city hayseed and impress the young blond girlcop with him.

My wife was just as intense, declairing that I never 'flourished' (cop's word for brandishing?) any gun. As he accused me of 'taking the law into my own hands' (Isn't it?), she resolutely told him that I was willing to defend myself.

Then the defining moment of the evening. She asked this only one why he carried a gun on his hip. He stopped, perplexed. To protect himself my wife offered. 'It's the same reason my husband wears one on HIS hip.' Wow. And he wears it with commensurate training 'just like you too' (Knowing he probably just had a modicum of training aka 50 round qual every year whereas I had extensive combat pistol training-several decades worth.).

This guy acted like he was poleaxed. After a short pause he left. No more trouble. No smiling for the camera. The druggers soon left for good.

Monday, May 25, 2009


Today is a day to remember.

People have had their fun at the 500 Mile Race. Okay. We need to party. Perhaps some of us get blitzed. Some just gather and picnic. Letting off steam.

That's something natural. We recreate. But many leave it at that. They forget what Memorial Day is all about. Personally, it brings a lump to my throat, tears to my eyes.

So many have died. They sacrificed themselves. They fought for Freedom and at the last for their brothers in arms.

Many colors, faiths, backgrounds. Personal reasons gave way to the simple fact that they died for Freedom. I hope we don't betray them.

They have been betrayed many times. Sometimes during war sometimes after. I will not besmirch them with mentioning traitors' names. Those lizards/bugs have enough press.

Rather, I ask we remember. And thus, that it was not in vain what they did.

When I say I hope WE don't betray them is simple enough.

If we forget or allow our kids friends, neighbors etc to forget, that's betrayal. If we allow those traitors to continue to hold sway, if we don't counter them, that's betrayal.

Hold your heads high and celebrate what those who died for Freedom did.

And contemplate what we must do to further it.

Sunday, May 24, 2009


It has a threefold meaning.

It was the year my Dad was born. It was the year John Moses Browning's Colt 45 was designated for military use. It was the official start of the 500 Mile Race.

One little known event, one largely known and one greatly known. Each has its own importance.

First, I'd like to thank my Dad, William Clair Hiland, for fathering me. Not just that. For laying a foundation that sees me through now. 'Fathering' is easy. Just a glee in the eeye and a 'tilt in the kilt'. Being a father (aka positive male role model) is invaluable. There is not a day I don't think of him.

As for the 1911 '45 automatic' well it speaks for itself. I have one that was issued in 1918. It still competes for my attention as a defensive handgun along with Glocks.

Being from Indianapolis, I'm well familiar with the '500'. We just finished the 93rd running. Dad took me out as a toddler for the practice runs. He had frequented the race many times. I have film of him and his buddies in early days. And yes beer was just as popular then lol.

Funny enough, I've never been to the race itself. Been to practice and some events. But the race nope.

Two years from now would have been my Dad's 100th birthday. I've decided to have a 'centennial' party in his honor. We will celebrate a century of events.

Going our separate ways, I will gather the family and reflect on not just Dad, but what is important now to us.

Yep. That means addressing the coming storm and restoring the Republic. It means completing what we start.

Dad always taught me to finish what I started. And though when I kick, there will be loose ends, I will endeavor to leave little for the kids to 'clean up'.

As for the next two years for our country, well we will see.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Late For Class

I visited my son the other day at his high school. We home schooled him all his life til just a few years ago. This school remarkably offered what we and he wanted, especially ROTC (No guns now. He still gets that at home.) and continuing Russian (I got hime started -s-. His teacher is fluent and married to a Russian immigrant.), as well as what the new world shrinks call 'socialization'. That is, he sees through the socialist goop and makes friends easily. That's what WE call socialization -s-. Oh yes, it's also my wife's alma mater.

We were having a great time. Commiserating with teachers and students, I noticed of course the encroaching darkness of collectivism/fascism/socialism/communism so common now. Failed social experiments and remedies consisting of more failed social experiments. An edge of fear and regimentation that my teachers and my wife's, including her mother would have at the least spurned and denigrated. Now they are accepted with a shrug and a 'what can you do' attitude.

Discipline stands out. Apathy seemingly honored (vis a vis They Live?), quite a few kids sleep in class. They are no longer admonished. If I had put my head down in class, my butt would have been handed to me. Well, you could nap in study hall lol. I did sometimes. After I finished any homework. Too many late nights watching Johnny Carson -s-. These kids are not taking advantage of the opportunities as had my son. There are others who do and quickly become bored if not challenged. We made sure the teachers our son has had were the ones who still did. They are fading fast with the dark night consuming the last sparks of decency and individuality that were standards in 'the old days'.

The socialist head of Indianapolis Public Schools, Dr. White, also instituted a uniform dress code. This was guaranteed he said, to even the playing field (what a commie concept) so no jealousy would arise from fashion statements. Also it forbids gang colors. WHAT A JOKE. There are more fights now than before (Including the amusing race baited ones where a moke comes round campus and pays kiddies 20 bucks etc to start trouble. Tried it with my son. Didn't work -s-.). Kids just bring their own street clothes and change right after the final bell.

Anyway, to make a short story long as I often do, Will and I were engaged in conversation between classes with one of his friends. She is a spirited girl from his Russian class. Non stop talker, dramatic to the max and fearless or crazy re expressing herself. She is often remonstrated against because of that mouth. She could use a little discretion -s-.

Off we went to the next class joking and talking about the future. It was raining and we were slowed down by the crowd and my fear of getting wet by sharing an umbrella (never mind).

Well, lo and behold as we approached the room their Russian teacher waved us all off summarily because we were 'late'. It was a dreaded hall sweep, which purges any laggers and banishes them to detention. WTF?

I was momentarily surprised. Hey it's Will and me etc. Didn't matter. We were 'late' and caught in the sweep. Oh yeah: The teachers can get in trouble if they let students in AFTER the bell!!! Otra vez: WTF???

In 'our' day, the teacher would admonish us not to be late or get a pass (I was a past master at getting around even the rules of those days lol btw). Now, nada. NO excuses.

Part of the reason is because of the terrible discipline problem. What a surprise. Parents and schools have gotten more than lax in an attempt to make kids 'feel' good. Mustn't hurt Johnny's and Janey's feelings. After all we are all equal ad infinitum...

The 'solution' is to crack down and contain the miscreants. There are some as I observed, but kids trying to learn are caught in the same net.

Net is the operative word. Felt like we were being herded like Planet of the Apes or perhaps toward the boxcars. Obey the rules/school/state or be confined on our whim. Yep there was detention in my day, but not like this. This had the stink of the state, not just some anal teacher everybody hated.

We were taken to the 'Forum' a small theater near the mainstage. This school had quite a drama department at one time. Guess this shows the devolvement that a theater is used to house those who disobey.

While waiting to be admitted, I commented re those boxcars and how people could have avoided them. And Will made ref to bullets. OHOH. Several kids flinched. Then his friend commented further re bullets and Freedom. Coulda knocked me over with a feather. Some of the kids flinched more. A few nodded. And of course, several just didn't care. A microcosm of society!

Wondering why I put up with this crap? Same reason we kept Will in school: To witness firsthand the s***storm descending. To finish what he started and with success stick it to them. To learn as much about what's wrong and then sound the horn. We've had many discussions re this socialist drivel and how the few decent teachers are socially neutered.

We sat after being told people from each school must sit together. There was no sitting where you wanted here. You must obey. Like the kid who one day wore a red shirt (Ironic color and one of the 'accepted' colors.). She was summarily told it was the wrong 'shade'. Her Mom had to bring the appropriate red tone. This guy, who I dubbed 'Grand Moff Huggins' said it was to instill obeying the rules. Uhuh.

We sat down and continued our spirited talk. I was waiting for some 'screw' to tell us to shut up. Didn't happen. When the subprincipal or administrator saw me and Will she told us we could go. What do you know. We were academic 'only ones'. Reason was Will is one of the high achievers and she knew he couldn't be a lagger. Must be some mistake. Uhuh. I said only if Will's friend came with us. Annette said she was with us. The lady did not believe her. I said that indeed she was. Admins eyes got big and inclided Annette. Off we went with not relief on my part but disgust. My comments seemed to reach deaf ears. Yep I copped out, pardon the pun. Shoulda led a Schindler's list outta there.

The Russian teach was glad to see us. But she said that she was subject to discipline herself if she didn't observe the rules. Sieg friggin heil. After class, she had to hurry to an admin meeting and couldn't be late. They make em sign in and yep they get penalized if they are late.

Found out she's stressed and on Prozac. What a surprise. Her hubby btw came from Soviet Union. He carries a gun. She voted for Sotero and shakes her head cuz we are in such a mess here. Nice gal but um mixed up.

I don't regret our sending Will to the school. Interestingly this stuff just got added within the last year. The state has finally arrived kathunk.

My advice, get your kids homeschooled and keep them there, unless you can stomach the stench of the state.

After the 'bullet boxcar' comments bet they admins would poop if they knew I had a gun on my hip -wink-. Of course that's against federal etc laws. Uhuh.

And just in case you think I'd REALLY be led to a boxcar, aint gonna happen. Unless I was needed in the underground network at the camp -s- (If they did nab me, I'd probably just be quicklu executed. Can't reeducate me hehehe.).

Will someday will take his oath to protect and defend the Constitution as a Marine pilot. He will bear everything in mind. As for his friend, I hope she becomes a leader in the Resistance.

Thursday, May 7, 2009


Same old same old. So goes the blather of certain pragmatic folks at a list I have frequented.

Now, I know it's like p****** in the wind carrying on any dialog with these characters. David Codrea advised its a waste of time. My son called this latest event 'a c*** stroking contest' I think he inherited his Grandpa's earthiness and poetry of meaning. My wife just laughed (I joined in. We needed one -s-.).

This list I have reffed has devolved. There used to be a lot of exchange of ideas. Round about 700 members most of the last 8 years, there used to be a lot of spirited discussion. Sometimes heated. Occasionally there have been some nasty outbreaks, including ad hominems (or nyahnyahnyah-that's remained lol). There has even been talk that is now defined as 'three percenter'. Not anymore. It's as though most have either left or clammed up for fear that the feds are watching (I'm sure there are a couple. There are btw, several cops and one fed agent I know of who are 2A supporters, so they say. I've no reason to doubt it. Even their talk has toned down.).

This place has become like a small town, inbred and isolated. A dozen or so contribute regularly backed up by several with posts that are informative re guns, shooting and topics that are quite eclectic. But NO threeper stuff. Thats considered tinhatville. In fact any thoughts that fall outside the box of certain 'anointed ones' as it were, don't last. Some new people are needled til they up and go. It's become a mutual admiration society (kindest thing I can say). It's their way or the highway'. No more free exchange of ideas, lessin it's their ideas.

I weathered the storm, thinking there was a reason to be there. Like a boy from town who moves away and comes back, I've been smothered with adversity. I've been labeled antimasonic (My family has a lengthy heritage and ties to Masonry.), which I'm not. I had been crowned with a tinfoil hat when I offered a discussion of 911 and especially, its results (Whatever the source, the results have secured more tyranny etc.). Marriage should be weathered, no divorce. This from one of the annointed who had a miserable time and schismed anyway. On and on. Lest you think this 'joint' was my only destination on the web, taint so McGee. In fact I've curtailed a lot of web activity in order to devote time to 'threeping' (sounds like freeping lol) and writing my scripts (the glamor of showbiz) and most important, time with my kids.

And ohoh don't talk except in pragspeak re our rights. No Restoration necessary etc so says one of the chief praggers. We are still a republic says he (and that's no capitalization nor Constitutional in front). I could forgive no capital letters, but this particular guy wants to see Gingrich as President.

The fellow has a hard time understanding that 'restoration' stuff. By whose definition he asks? He prides himself a student of history. It should be obvious with the steady erosion of the Constitution and Bill of Rights. He just cannot see it. Or doesn't want to.

He claims I'm trying to influence him, implying methinks that I think like a prag ie my way or the highway. If I had a dollar every time I rolled my eyes, I could finance a low budget film.

He doesn't accept reason and rational debate, except the circular kind.

Posturing, bluster and bombast are claims he makes against me. Sounds like classic transference.

Says he that we must change gov from within, not with force of arms. Says I and all else fails, who is invading from without? We defend within. And oh, what are guns for re 2A?

Which leads me to one of their 'indictments'. I seem to be running amok in the streets inciting people to shoot gov employees, waving my guns around they imply.

Au contraire monsoor. I preach preparation to defend ourselves. To prepare for the worst and hope for the best. That we must reconstruct as they deconstruct.

I do not ignore history. We have deteriorated. That there could be great destruction to come. But that we MUST not let ourselves nor the Founders down.

That leads to one more 'comment' though I could go on seemingly ad infinitum. Behavior attitude and belief cannot be returned to what it was in 1776. WTF? Technology changes, but people do not. Yes, there alot more people. There has been much dumbing down. But there are many who still know what a Constitutional Republic is. I'd rather argue with an anarchist. I respect sharp minds and logic who don't name call.

Which leads me to one last thing (Sigh of relief?). In schoolyard fashion, I've been called a 'keyboard commando' (That was the laugh my wife and I sorely needed). Jeez. Guess I'll go to my room, strewn with John Wayne posters and listen to Ballad of the Green Berets while I cry myself to sleep. I have a bio of the Duke btw and a remembrance by his daughter Aissa. Have the Green Berets in my movie collection. The Alamo etc. I do NOT base anything I do or believe on movies. I have made myself clear in many previous posts, especially early ones. Movies can capture the spirit of an event and inspire. Then learn more.

I sure as hell don't base any training there either. I base training on working hard to add more 'tools to the toolbox', as it were. Hands on not wished for.

I have never worn a uniform. But I know plenty who have. And by all that is holy I know there are plenty who have taken that Oath who are threepers and some of them have trained me, say from the age of six til now. I never say anything unless I'm sure what I am talking about. One of my favorite Americans, David Crockett said, 'Be sure you're right, then go ahead'. I live by that. And base my beliefs on a lifetime of experience as well as faith.

It would be like basing agent training on Pat McGoohan's Secret Agent/Dangerman. Good show though re some situtations. I'll share more on that later.

David C and my son were right. It's a waste of time to argue with these mokes. I hope you all have indulged my swan song to these peeps. I needed to vent!

Like not going home again, I've packed and the rest of my stuff is now ensconced in Threepertown.


I bought a new Zippo lighter not long ago. Actually, it's an early Father's Day gift.

I smoke cigars. Not a lot, but some, say three a week. Sometimes more, sometimes less.

My Dad OTOH, smoked several a day. It seems I rarely saw him without one. And yep, he carried a Zippo.

Some cigar aficionados tell you to never use a Zippo as the lighter fluid taste 'leaks' into the smoke. It's true. Butane is better or even better, wood matches (Let the sulphur burn down completely because that taste can leak too.). But my Dad had a Zippo.

Some object to smoking. So much so that in Franklin Indiana it's banned except in bars and homes. Ya can't even light up at the VFW. That's progress the smoke nazis say. It's not.

It's a 'camel's nose in the tent like seatbelts and helmets etc. Good ideas in and of themselves they say. For our own good. But there is NO choice. Like oh how about a permit to carry or to (fill in the blank). Begging gov to protect etc ourselves. And regulating ANY firearms. 24,000+ gunlaws including GCA 68 and NFA 34.

And prags say we are still a Republic. We haven't been for a century at least. Mind you, it's been a slow slide. But we have slid into a big mudpit cum sh** pit of democracy made slick with regulations in all fields.

Don't panic. Figure it out. Take a step at a time. Make a stand. Strike a spark.

Maybe there will be 'brushfires in the minds of men' as Sammy Adams said.

Just a note that even buying a Zippo can get one thinking.