Hogmany

A gift given on New Year's Eve.

A Scottish custom that has a great significance for me.

We all have made resolutions. Usually they are passing fancies about giving up or getting rid. They rarely last beyond a few weeks at best.

I see the Hogmany as something else. It can be a token actual gift, placed in the hand of friend or family. I think of it as something given from the heart and meant to be kept in same.

Love Light Humor are important. Don't lose them this coming year. Things could get grim and when they do, you will need all of those aforementioned things you can muster.

From my heart to yours, Happy New Year. Not a hohum passing wish. A real thought born in the heart and the mind.

Live the dream. Make it work.

Beard

The only beard I need. Not the kind to cover up something as it were!

Haven't had a beard for a while. I got tired of shaving so my facial hair has been growing.

I look like Poopdeck Pappy.

Guess it's keeping my face warmer though.

Lately, I've felt like the little guy who turns off the light in the icebox. Wet penetrating cold. Ugh.

Sound depressed? Not really. Just getting my second wind.

Winter can be a time to regroup. Nature sleeps, but underneath is the waiting bloom.

I'm tempted to stay wrapped up in my baggy sweats and let my beard grow to my knees.

I'll probably shave it off soon and get my wardrobe ready for Hollyweird.

Appearance is not everything. It helps sometimes. Working at home is a plus, but sometimes ya just gotta get out in the world

The world might come knocking anyway, but if you don't make an effort, you might just wither away.

These midwinter thoughts are brought to you courtesy of my slowly thawing mind.

Prohibition

It's for your own good.

How often have we heard that in the last ten years or so, let alone a statement that has risen like a slimy monster from a primordial bog since before history.

Now the food nazis have risen in the wake of the smoke nazis and the grope and scope nazis at the airports.

It's true some things aren't good for you, at least in great quantities. But in a constitutional Republic, we have the right to determine those things for ourselves. Peopke should be encouraged to eat and drink right, exercise and in general take care of themselves.

No one has the right to tell us what to do. If we harm ourselves it is tragic. If we harm others that dfalls under the realm of 'your rights end at my nose' as it were.

The people allowed the DC government to legally prohibit alcohol sales and consumption. What an egregious unconstitutional and downright criminal act. then again the same renegades compromised our gun rights soon after with the NFA '34.

There is no stopping the juggernaut, unless we stop it.

Though Prohibition was repealed we still have to deal with the ridiculous fiat rules of the ATF and other agencies in the guise of acting for our own good.

How collectivist and how traitorous to usurp our self determination!

Take the time to peal back each onerous statute, expose it and go on to the next.

Strike them down and reestablish the Republic!

Otherwise, can civil war be far behind to remind the criminal element who runs this country?

All Prohibition did was cause organized crime to excel and as a result the NFA '34 and other enslavements such as regulation of distilling alcohol (none of the fed's business-I'd love to make a few gallons of squeezins -s-) were promulgated.

Unpromulgate or we will fire you!

We must act in our own best interests.

Magnum P.I.

One of my favorite shows.

And this 'action-adventure' program is much more than it seems.

It ran eight years and was the proverbial perennial favorite. So much so that when it was apparently over at the end of season seven, with Magnum presumably dead, walking into the light, fans clamored and they came back to tie up loose ends. It wasn't slapdash either. They did a bangup job. There were conclusions but still enough questions to leave room for a movie etc.

Magnum was living a teen boys fantasy. He worked when he wanted, had a seemingly endless supply of beer and babes and lived on an estate at the invitation of its owner as a 'security consultant'.

As I said, there was more to it than that.

He was a Vietnam vet, former specops and Naval Intel, as well as a graduate of the Naval Academy.

His and his friends portrayals of Nam vets gives this show a big thumbs up. Instead of the obsessed or crazy war vet, we see caring human personalities emerge who try honestly to cope with their experiences.

Part of his reasom for being where he was amounted to a need to get away and think about his life. He wanted to have fun, something he hadn't allowed himself for years.

Though he had resigned he was called back several times to work intel and his war buds Rick and TC helped. Often at odds with the manager of Robin Masters' estate, Higgins, they formed a comeraderie over the years.

He thought he lost the love of his life, Michelle, whom he had married. In turn she had been married to a North Vietnamese general who turned out to be actually trying to free the people.

He had a daughter with Michelle named Lily who came to live with him at the end of the series.

Throughout the series, we see Magnum grow and mature at the same time as having fun. That's a neat trick that people should attempt more often. How often many of us get stuck and end up joyless or can become wastrels and totally deep six responsibility.

The acting is great from the company players and guests. It's like getting free lessons in how to act, write direct and produce a show.

I could go on but I suggest that for entertainment with a twist ie something to think about re human nature, check out Magnum.

Infidel

A much bandied word.

Unfaithful. Someone who is blind to faith. Faithless. And there are worse words -s-.

Used by both sides in the Crusades.

Before one uses the term one should look at oneself.

Otherwise, that is how Inquisitions start.

All religions can go to extremes, usually for pride and fear that someone else threatens a power base.

The socio-political replaces living faith. It becomes corrupt and inward, an inbred caricature, a nightmare cartoon.

You decide. Compare who is right.

The word today is bandied about by people who call good evil and evil good. Reveling in violance, they seem to have a blood god instead of a supposed god of compassion. Woe to those who shed the blood of innocents, willfully murdering.

Terrible things happen in war. Innocents do die even accidentally. Collateral damage, acceptable losses occur. that can be an excuse or the grim reality that war brings pain and death. War is hell.

But the willful murder such as terror bombing or shootings at schools, that is evil.

We'd better think twice about the cost of fighting. But remember that if we do not, the real infidels may win. Will win if we do not oppose them.

We do not go into war glorying in death, though it can be romanticized, thus taking the sting away.

Once committed, we must not stop til we are again Free.

There are indeed rough men who sacrifice much.

Remember Davy Crockett. Remember what he said.

'Be sure you're right, then go ahead.

Xylophone

I used to play with a xylophone at a friend of my Grandpa's home.

I say play with rather than play because I didn't learn to use it as a musical instrument. I was merely interested in its noise.

Perhaps I actually tinkled out a tune once in a while, but I was mainly interested in the sounds.

My curiosity has always been peaked. I never have been one with blinders on.

I never shuffle head down like a beaten slave or fearful subject. I look around and look people right in the eye.

I was a little shy as a kid. I got over it. Had good role models there.

It's why I knew certain people in showbiz and am meeting more. It's why I have lobbied so to speak at the State House for the rights of noncustodial parents and the 2nd Amendment.

It's why I have stood up for myself and then later my kids, teaching them the very same thing.

No matter the slings and arrows, I keep on keeping on.

I'm learning the guitar now and I used to play the 'jew's harp'. Who knows. Maybe I'll actually play some tunes on the xylophone before it's over. -s-

Hiding Behind

I'll never forget one particular New Year's Eve night.

The kid's Mom was out feeding the neighbor's dog, as they were away. She also was trying to comfort him because, being New Year's Eve, there were lots of booms, which sent ol Buzz into a panic.

The neighbors, one house down were whooping it up.

They happened to be illegals. We found this out through events that unfolded over a span of months.

Now illegal or not they had firearms. The man of the house, a capungo if there ever was one, looked at her and fired several rounds off in the air.

She didn't flinch and brought her 45 round and rested it on her front thigh.

His eyes got big, he blanched and hid behind his woman, then segued into the house.

The rest of the night was quiet at least there.

I loathe people who hide behind others either literally or figuratively.

Weasely, duplicitous and a host of other words of scorn come to mind. Think up some yourself -s-.

I've seen it in the form of a young guy who uses people. Particularly, without any positive male role models, he hides behind his aunt and mother. He lacks initiative and is not what he pretends to be. Sociopathy runs rampant.

Politicians often hide behind slogans instead of using them to provoke thought. They are all blow and no show.

Rather than take a stand, they and others rely on platitudes and waffle from pillar to post.

Most use scapegoats unless actually caught in a direct lie or compromise.

The time for hiding is over. The time for the masks to fall is here.

Let the chips fall where they may and stand up. There is no hiding for us. We must face will all candor the issues that destroy Freedom.

And for the hiding behinders, let's make sure we have a gun to defend ourselves for they may try to take us when our backs are turned.

Capungos indeed.

Bill Of Rights Day

Hope it doesn't become just another national commemorative.

People brush aside Independence Day, usually calling it the 4th of July. They forget the reason for the fireworks.

Christmas has become a crapfest of gimme for many.

Even Halloween is greed for candy instead of a reminder of the night before All Saints' Day.

A certain amount of fun is healthy and many of the evolved customs do not hurt unless they are an end in themselves.

No matter your faith, no matter just about anything else, Bill of Rights Day is for All Americans .

It serves as a reminder about the restraint on government. It reminds those we hire that we are the boss.

Or it is ignored or at best is a chance for compromising posers to huff and puff out their chests to show they believe in 'fill in the blank'. Example: 'I believe and endorse the Second Amendment.' Then they qualify it.

Don't let Bill of Rights Day be anything but a reminder of Freedom and what the cost could well be again.

Wanted Dead Or Alive

One of my all time favorite Western shows.

Recently, my daughter and I have been watching it again, as well as the James Bond Series and what else but Danger Man/Secret Agent and The Prisoner.

Anyhow, there was a particular ep of Wanted that struck a chord.

Josh Randall (Steve McQueen's role), the bounty hunter comes into a town looking for stolen Army horses.

He happens on the thief who is behind bars. The guy pleads for Randall to help him.

All seems quiet, too quiet. Actually, it's run by a Marshal who rules with an iron hand.

He was brought there ostensibly to clean the town up. It apparently had been raucous and lawless. The citizens, passing the buck, hired this moke.

He clened it up and cleaned it out. No one was to wear a gun within the town limits. There was to be no consumption of liquor except at the local bar the owner of which had a deal for this exclusivity at the price of a cut of course.

Josh tries to get the leaders such as they are to fire the Marshal. They try but he and his bully boys (Brown Shirts?) kill one of the town council and declare a curfew immediately.

Josh organizes a revolt and they get the upper hand, Josh killing the Marshal in a gunfight.

Randall tells the moke he doesn't want to kill him,though he has the drop on the Marshal.

The moke's response was to say either he would kill Josh or Josh would kill the Marshal. Of course Randall shoots him dead, freeing the town.

In the aftermath, the grateful townsfolk want Josh to be the new Marshal. He did most of the work ridding them of the previous guy. And I noted these townies still were not wearing guns even when they had gotten them back.

Josh refused, leaving them to whatever fate they decided for themselves.

What can I say? The analogy is obvious. It's just like the attitude of many today.

Let the other guy do it. We have cops and military supposedly qualified to protect us. Many have forgotten just as the townie shad , that the resposibility is in their hands, in spite of the fact many were 'family men'. That was a prime excuse on the show when action needed to be taken.

Good God! I'm a father. My responsibility, though the kids areone grown and the other nearly, is to protect and teach them to protect themselves.

Well to those who buy protection I say get out of the frakking way. Leave me to do my part. And by God, don't you dare try to disarm me.

The rest is obvious to real men and women who know we must take up the security of ourselves and band with others to secure it for the US.

They don't make shows like that anymore.

But we can show our kids the way.

And hey, get em to watch shows that are thought provoking. Boy did my girl lambast the townies, realizing the situation as it has devolved.

For those who choose to go unarmed and not defend themselves, they have chosen their path. Good luck.

Surprises

When I was a kid, I loved surprises. Of course, I tried to find out what I was getting for my birthday and Christmas. But something out of the blue, a new toy or Vernors Ginger Ale, whatever, made my day. I was pleased and grateful. None of this 'world owes me a living' crappola.

There are bad surprises that could range from anywhere to somewhere. Am I grateful for those? In a way. I believe we can learn from everything that happens to us.

Just the other day, I learned Aaron Zelman died. That was a very bad surprise. Of course, it led me to remember my talks with him and advice etc. It also reenforces my commitment to Freedom and speaking out. That's the gist of surprises that rock your world. You get past it and go on, no matter the adversity.

And the surprise attack at Pearl Harbor stunned us, but that day many fought back and the resolve that galvanized us saw us through to victory.

There is a real school of hard knocks that many of us are taking post graduate courses in, that people always have endured.

I remember another trinket of a surprise from what were dime stores when I was a kid. They were the 'dollar' stores of their day, with greater and better variety, including some with lunch counters which, at least where I grew up, were pretty good.

There were 'surprise balls' for sale near the door. These were simple balls of paper and sometimes a little cardboard wrapped in twists. Every so often, there was a trinket, cheap toy etc that would be uncovered. For the preschooler, it was a cute little treat. Now I guess, the jaded gimme attitude would laugh and scoff at such simplicity.

And maybe it wasn't the cheap toys as much as it was the thought that counted. Also, appreciation for what you had counted a great deal then.

I can also tell you that though we lived well and I received good toys including a bunch of toy guns etc, I knew my Dad worked hard for the money that paid for them. Another thing that seems to be lacking from the gimme bunch. There was no playing with a toy then tossing it aside. Nope. Each was well used and some were given to kids who didn't have as much.

Giving then was in the spirit of helping hand. There was no false sense of entitlement, nor at least with us and many others we knew, there was no superior pat on the head to the poor.

A lot of people had pulled through the Depression and appreciated work and its benefits. Then a surprise might have been an extra apple or orange now and then or at Christmas.

I've spoken of 'sticktoitiveness'. Seeing things through to the possibly bitter end can be like those surprise balls. It might not seem like much, but you know what you get and can go from there.

You might take the plunge and think it will not go well, then be surprised how well it actually went. Same for writing this blog lol!

Don't settle for what some would call 'their lot'. America is all about getting better.

Then you might just make your own surprise ball and supply it with something better than you started.

Each person might actually have the chance again to make it better.

What a surprise awaits the enemies of that idea.

Apology

What it really means.

Words have lost meaning or gained. They have been deemphasized and overdone.

As collectivists strive to rewrite the matrix of the Republic til it is no longer one, words always play a great part. How and when they are used.

Here's the straight dope on apology

It has become an instrument to admit error as when the prof apologized after using the word niggardly. It is a means to be pc and kowtow to whatever loonie leftie crappola flavors the day.

It can be used that way. But it also has more meaning.

Martin Luther, the Protestant Reformationist, 'apologized' to Rome. He didn't use the aforementioned method. He merely made clear what he was saying re faith etc.

Must have been quite a surprise when he defended his stand and then let the interp of Scripture stand for itself.

Mike Vanderboegh, David Codrea and the now sadly deceased Aaron Zelman (still tough to take), have been apologists for Second Amendment rights. Of course they delineated the reasons we are Free and all that many of us know. If you happen on this and don't, then go toa search engine and type in there names. You'll see what apology is all about.

We needn't be sorry for our stand for Freedom.

We might have to make excuses though if we wait or stand by and do nothing.

And re Aaron Zelman. He had a way of getting people to think.

So, carry the torch. Your turn!

Blocks In A Wagon

One of my favorite all time toys was a set of building blocks I inherited from my brother.

They were very solid and durable and stained with years of handling.

They came in a wooden wagon complete with wheels.

Man, my imagination took flight with those things and I made a lot of things happen. Mostly of course, they contributed to building walls and forts.

From the Alamo, to cavalry forts, to castles, the blocks were tools fueled by my imagination.

Legions of plastic soldiers fought and died in and outside those block walls, reenacting actual history and a lot of fictional encounters.

I played with em all my childhood.

I guess I was a storyteller with my toys.

I'd think up scenarios, even plots, including backstories and bios, assigning 'parts' to kids I knew.

With a huge collection of toy guns, I devised plenty of play that was never dull.

toys should be tools for the imagination. They are props for plays, stories that unfold perhaps simply early on but with more sophistication as I got older.

It's one of those things I passed on to my kids, who had some magnificent scenarios. Will had a huge bunch of oatmeal boxes and there was quite a parade of things made from them. Same for Erica as they built with Duplos and other next generations of blocks.

Blocks can represent thoughts that can be carefully constructed into ideas.

I'll leave it with the 'gentle readers' of this missive to figure out where we can go.

The only limitation is indeed on oneself.

In The Still Of The Night

In the still of the night, all is so quiet, one could hear an angel breathe.

In the still of the night, cold makes us gather more closely.

In the still of the night, you can hear yourself think.

In the still of the night, doubts come to haunt the mind.

In the still of the night, cheer comes and warms away the doubts.

In the still of the night, time seems suspended like a pocket of hope.

In the still of the night, hope seems to vanish like a broken promise.

In the still of the night, promise is born anew to break the silence.

In the still of the night, they like to come and steal.

In the still of the night, one little light times many shines on them.

In the still of the night, time runs out.

In the still of the night, there is still time still.