It OUGHT to be true...

This story came to me in my email this morning. I've seen it before, in both the incarnations mentioned by Snopes.com. If Honour means anything to you, if you have any gratitude in your heart for the gifts you've been given, read it in that spirit. And remember...

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I put my carry-on in the luggage compartment and sat down in my assigned seat. It was going to be a long flight. 'I'm glad I have a good book to read. Perhaps I will get a short nap,' I thought.

Just before take-off, a line of soldiers came down the aisle and filled all the vacant seats, totally surrounding me. I decided to start a conversation. 'Where are you headed?' I asked the soldier seated nearest to me.

'Petawawa. We'll be there for two weeks for special training, and then we're being deployed to Afghanistan.

After flying for about an hour, an announcement was made that sack lunches were available for five dollars. It would be several hours before we reached the east, and I Quickly decided a lunch would help pass the time...

As I reached for my wallet, I overheard a soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. 'No, that seems like a lot of money for just a sack lunch. Probably wouldn't be worth five bucks. I'll wait till we get to base'

His friend agreed. I looked around at the other soldiers. None were buying lunch. I walked to the back of the plane and handed the flight attendant a fifty dollar bill. 'Take a lunch to all those soldiers.' She grabbed my arms and squeezed tightly. Her eyes wet with tears, she thanked me. 'My son was a soldier in Iraq ; it's almost like you are doing it for him.'

Picking up ten sacks, she headed up the aisle to where the soldiers were seated. She stopped at my seat and asked, 'Which do you like best - beef or chicken?'

'Chicken,' I replied, wondering why she asked. She turned and went to the front of plane, returning a minute later with a dinner plate from first class. 'This is your thanks..'

After we finished eating, I went again to the back of the plane, heading for the rest room. A man stopped me. 'I saw what you did. I want to be part of it. Here, take this.' He handed me twenty-five dollars..

Soon after I returned to my seat, I saw the Flight Captain coming down the aisle, looking at the aisle numbers as he walked, I hoped he was not looking for me, but noticed he was looking at the numbers only on my side of the plane. When he got to my row he stopped, smiled, held out his hand, and said, 'I want to shake your hand.'

Quickly unfastening my seatbelt I stood and took the Captain's hand. With a booming voice he said, 'I was a soldier and I was a military pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I never forgot.' I was embarrassed when applause was heard from all of the passengers.

Later I walked to the front of the plane so I could stretch my legs. A man who was seated about six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine. He left another twenty-five dollars in my palm.

When we landed I gathered my belongings and started to deplane. Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man who stopped me, put something in my shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. Another twenty-five dollars!

Upon entering the terminal, I saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to the base. I walked over to them and handed them seventy-five dollars. 'It will take you some time to reach the base. It will be about time for a sandwich. God Bless You.'

Ten young men left that flight feeling the love and respect of their fellow travelers. As I walked briskly to my car, I whispered a prayer for their safe return. These soldiers were giving their all for our country. I could only give them a couple of meals..

It seemed so little...

A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to 'The United States of America' for an amount of 'up to and including my life.'

That is Honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand it.'



With many thanks to LTC John Chadbourne, PFC Heidi Gregory, SPC Ernesto Garcia and CSM Harry Jeffries of 703rd Brigade Support Battalion at Forward Operating Base Kalsu, Iraq. Picture from Iraq Pictures, a blog here on blogspot - also with thanks. It was taken in January of 2008, as far as I can tell.

No Pixie today, going to run and get supplies to make Hoppin' John. The Cousins will be here around 1030, My Chief is off today but has the flu, and I have 'stuff' to get done. Y'all have a FINE day, and thanks for stopping by!

Mark Ingram wins Heisman - Roll Tide! (Picture Update)

My favorite was the Ultimate Underdog, defensive tackle Ndamakong Suh of Nebraska. But this young man is every bit as deserving. From NCAA Football Fanhouse:

"Overcome by emotion, Ingram tearfully thanked his family and teammates, as well as his coaches."

Actually, his first thank you went to God. And he cried.



Good boy.


Couldn't happen to a better young man.

Snoopy's Christmas

Today is the start of the Christmas season for me. As a kid, this was the weekend we'd get the tree. Almost always the weekend closest to my mum's birthday, which is today. Happy Birthday, Mom. We love you!

One of my very favorite Christmas songs and some scenes from "A Charlie Brown Christmas." Glad it's chilly today, think I'll go make enchilada casserole like Grandma Elsie taught me. Y'all have a fine weekend, and thanks for stopping by.

This might not be good news for Yours Truly

12/10/2009, MIDNIGHT UPDATE (from Binyamin's trusty assistant): In a few hours, Binyamin will send out a letter to his friends and supporters about his condition and JWR's future. He has no intention of placing semi-private info on the JWR front page. We had orginally considered recording his words but soon realised it would be impossible, as he is too weak. So we are instead sending his note via e-mail to those who are subscribed to the daily JWR update. (To be added, please click here.).

Binyamin is afraid that his writing skills will fall short. I assured him that the message he wished to convey will come through loud and clear.

Here are seven columns for your reading pleasure: Victor Davis Hanson, Bob Tyrrell, Larry Elder, Dick Morris, Ann Coulter, Cal Thomas. and George Will.

Messages can be sent to schmooze@jewishworldreview.com

I do hope Binyamin gets well and strong soon. I miss him - and I don't even know him. His kindness and integrity come through in his work, though, and I wish him and his family and friends all the best during this time.

I get great pleasure from reading JewishWorldReview.com. I've learned SO much over the years since my friend 'Red' (now expatriate in Texas) sent me a link to the site. Seems a long time ago now... I use Binyamin's material almost daily to post links on this blog. Will keep you posted.

Got all three crumb-crunchers again today, then taking a friend to my favorite meeting. Busy day. Cloudy, might rain s'more. Glad I'm here for it. Thanks for stopping by!

Please pray for Binyamin L. Jolkovsky - updated Monday (7Dec09)

UPDATE from yesterday and today, on Binyamin L. Jolkovsky:

JWR UPDATE

12/6/2009, 7:10pm update (from Binyamin's trusty assistant): Binyamin has finally made it home! It's been a long and grueling hospital stay for him. While his keep-fighting-the-good-fight spirit is intact, he is physically exhausted. It is still very hard for him to hold conversations of more than a couple of minutes. He's convinced that he will publish by week's end. (I'm not so certain).

PLEASE continue your prayers for: Binyamin Leib ben (Hebrew: son of) Pesha

12/7/2009, 12:30pm update (from Binyamin's trusty assistant):Binyamin has decided that he will write a letter to his friends and supporters explaining his health condition and discussing his plans for JWR's future. He has no intention of placing semi-private info on the JWR front page. To receive the note, please click here., which will add you to the JWR daily update list.

Messages can be sent to schmooze@jewishworldreview.com

*************************************************************************************
Binyamin is the heart, soul and hands-on man behind JewishWorldReview.com. I link to the articles and columns he posts nearly every day. Binyamin is a kind and humble man, though I haven't met him personally - I know him only through emails and his columns and articles. He was taken to hospital on Tuesday, though he may be released as early as today, in time for Sabbath. Please add him to your prayers. Thank you.

The notice at JewishWorldReview.com, with yesterday's update:


JWR for the remainder of the week

Binyamin L. Jolkovsky was taken by ambulance to the hospital on December 1st 2009, and he may be there for a couple of days. He apologizes for not being able to publish during that time.

He asks for your patience and that you pray for him with his Hebrew name: Binyamin Leib ben (Hebrew: son of) Pesha.

Messages can be sent to schmooze@jewishworldreview.com

12/3/2009, 12:15am update (from Binyamin's trusty assistant): OK ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, quick update. Just off the phone with your fearless leader from his "suite" at the hospital. He's doing a lot better. If all goes according to plan, he anticipates being home on Friday before the Sabbath, but that's just an estimate. He did ask me to update two important stories for you though: George Will and Cal Thomas.

Binyamin is astounded, humbled, grateful and thankful by the volume of kind words wishing him well, and it's sure to help him on the road to recovery and back to his keyboard.

Please continue to have patience. He is very sorry to keep you waiting.

TODAY'S UPDATE from his Loyal Assistant:

12/4/2009, 8:30am update (from Binyamin's trusty assistant): Good morning all. Binyamin is still recuperating. I spoke with him only very briefly last night. The docs are still running some tests. Many of you have been asking me what's going on. I don't know much as BLJ hasn't been too specific. I don't like to pry as it isn't my place to be nosy. I, like the rest of you, am continuing to pray for his full recovery.

Messages can be sent to schmooze@jewishworldreview.com

LAST UPDATE before Sabbath begins:

12/4/2009, 3:00pm update (from Binyamin's trusty assistant): The Sabbath in Brooklyn rapidly approaches (the earliest of the year, by the way:4:06pm), and Binyamin will remain in the hospital. Have a good weekend, everyone.

Messages can be sent to schmooze@jewishworldreview.com

Some American History

My first love wasn't motorcycles. It was airplanes.

THIS airplane, in particular.


If you read the comments, disregard skipjack's opinions - anyone who considers being on an airliner to be 'flying' isn't worth listening to. In my opinion, that is.

An old home movie...


The sound of the engine and the wind in these just about breaks my heart...

Wakko Wednesday

I stayed out later than usual last night, though it was great fun and so rewarding. But I'm a little blah today, moving easy, with lots to do. Hanging out with the Pixie, cooking supper for her grandpa and parents, while she colours and watches Little Einsteins.

I loved this show when Lovely Daughter was a little girl.


The Schoolhouse Rock 30th Anniversary Edition is on my Christmas list.


I've been trying to remember the name of this show for months now. Solved! Just go to YouTube's search engine, enter Ben Vereen Children's Show and VOILA! Here it is!

Veteran's Day 2009

Veteran’s Day Tribute

When America had an urgent need,
These brave ones raised a hand;
No hesitation held them back;
They were proud to take a stand.

They left their friends and family;
They gave up normal life;
To serve their country and their God,
They plowed into the strife.

They fought for freedom and for peace
On strange and foreign shores;
Some lost new friends; some lost their lives
In long and brutal wars.

Other veterans answered a call
To support the ones who fought;
Their country had requirements for
The essential skills they brought.

We salute each and every one of them,
The noble and the brave,
The ones still with us here today,
And those who rest in a grave.

So here’s to our country’s heroes;
They’re a cut above the rest;
Let’s give the honor that is due
To our country’s very best.

By Joanna Fuchs
Reprinted from Patriotic Poems

Veteran's Day/ Remembrance Day 2009

The Things That Make a Soldier Great
Edgar Guest

The things that make a soldier great and send him out to die,
To face the flaming cannon's mouth nor ever question why,
Are lilacs by a little porch, the row of tulips red,
The peonies and pansies, too, the old petunia bed,
The grass plot where his children play, the roses on the wall:
'Tis these that make a soldier great.
He's fighting for them all.

'Tis not the pomp and pride of kings that make a soldier brave;
'Tis not allegiance to the flag that over him may wave;
For soldiers never fight so well on land or on the foam
As when behind the cause they see the little place called home.
Endanger but that humble street whereon his children run,
You make a soldier of the man who never bore a gun.
What is it through the battle smoke the valiant soldier sees?

The little garden far away, the budding apple trees,
The little patch of ground back there, the children at their play,
Perhaps a tiny mound behind the simple church of gray.
The golden thread of courage isn't linked to castle dome
But to the spot, where'er it be — the humblest spot called home.
And now the lilacs bud again and all is lovely there
And homesick soldiers far away know spring is in the air;
The tulips come to bloom again, the grass once more is green,
And every man can see the spot where all his joys have been.

He sees his children smile at him, he hears the bugle call,
And only death can stop him now -- he's fighting for them all.

Reprinted from The Holiday Zone: Poetry for Veterans Day

Semper Fi

The United States Marine Corps celebrates 234 years today.

To all Marines, everywhere, serving or past serving, I extend my heartfelt thanks. We are better and safer as a Nation, because of you.

This video is long, but so worth your time. Happy Birthday, USMC - ooh rah!

Warms my heart...

Tebow leads No. 1 Florida over Georgia

Tebow leads No. 1 Florida over Georgia 41-17.

It was a BEEootiful day for football!

Applebee's ROCKS!

I may not be crazy about the food - well, they do have Triple Chocolate Meltdown - but I cannot criticise their heart. This link was in my email this morning from my brother, the Old Retired Petty Officer.

Veteran's eat FREE at Applebee's on Veteran's Day.

If you know of any other establishments doing this, please let me know and I'll post 'em.

Lead Balloon

Lovely Daughter asked me last week if I'd like to go to a Jaguars game for my birthday. They're playing Kansas City (kc!) and Matt Cassel is quarterback...such a nice name for such a nice boy ( /cheek-pinching old lady ). But I don't think I really do want to go, at least not enough to overcome the ambivalence I feel. While I certainly appreciate the offer, please let me explain why I hesitate.

First, we're all kinda short on cash. Expensive hobbies are not on my "gotta spend this money" list. My dryer just crapped out, repair of which is a necessary expense. Second, my birthday is just another day for me - I didn't DO anything that evening so many years ago, it's MY mother who should get the gifts and accolades, in my opinion. Third, I injured my back a few years ago...well, more than once and the first time was much more than "a few" years ago. Sitting in the stadium for several hours seems to cause spasms when I just THINK about it. And finally, I don't drink anymore, and I don't like being around drunk drunks. I don't do well in crowds in the best of conditions, and drunk, obnoxious crowds are surely going to be worse than I remember from when I DID drink. Much as I'd love to spend the day with Lovely Daughter and Handsome Son-in-law, I just don't think I'd have much fun...

I see from Mitch Albom's column at JewishWorldReview.com (updated BEFORE Yom Kippur began) that I'm not the only one avoiding such things for such reasons...

So, Lovely Daughter...can we just go eat like gluttons at Sticky Fingers instead? And if you go to the game that day, we can wait till the next week to go eat...I can wait!

You might be from Florida if...

Number 4 is my favorite, followed closely by #16 and #19.

1. You smirk when a game show's "Grand Prize" is a trip to Florida
2. You think a mountain is any hill 100 feet above sea level.
3. You think everyone from a bigger city has a northern accent.
4. You know the four seasons really are: almost summer, summer, not summer but really hot, and February.
5. You don't know what soda, cola, or pop is, "What kinda coke you want?"... regardless of brand or flavor
6. Anything under 95 is just warm.
7. You've hosted hurricane parties.
8. You understand the futility of exterminating cockroaches.
9. You can pronounce Okeechobee, Kissimmee , Ichnatucknee and Withlacoochee
10. You understand why it's better to have a friend with a boat, than have a boat yourself.
11. You get angry when people say " Florida isn't really part of the SOUTH."
12. You wear shorts and use the A/C on Christmas.
13. You recognize Miami-Dade as " Northern Cuba."
14. It's a perfect 72 degrees outside, but you run the A/C just to keep mildew from growing on your shoes.
15. You actually see someone from last nights episode of America's Most Wanted
16. Deer are smaller than your labrador
17. You're more scared of the freaks who live down the street than gators
18. You know someone who's been struck by lightning
19. You consider plywood a window treatment.
20. The term "huge fan" has nothing to do with sports.

UPDATE: In reference to yesterday's college football game, there's a player named Tyrod Taylor on one of the teams I was listening to. We were wondering...does he have a sister named Wheel Bearing?

New Addition on My Blogroll

My brother has a post at Parrothead Jeff - Las Vegas Latitude, Parrothead Attitude.

In case you don't know, Glenn was recently discovered to have a 'mass' on one of his kidneys. Throws the whole world into a bit of a spin, and I had funds standing by in case they wanted me to fly up there. Thankfully for all of us, my presence was not required (or wanted), as surgery was a resounding success and recovery is proceeding at a brisk pace. I suppose I could've gone just to get in the way and feel important, but I'm glad it worked out so well. For all of us. Glenn's Lovely Bride and Beautiful Daughter kept me in the loop, and I'm so grateful to them for that. (I am, however, disappointed I didn't get a trip West...dammit)

Now, go read Glenn's 'new' perspective - when the going gets tough, Navy Wives get tougher. Thanks, Sharon!

"...we females want to talk all the time about everything. Conflict is just another excuse to gab."

Betsy Hart at JewishWorldReview.com:

One of my own best women friends recently sent to me a piece that her husband (without comment, it turns out!) had e-mailed to her: "How to Improve Your Marriage Without Talking About It" by Barbara Graham from O, the Oprah Magazine. Its subtitle says it all: "Forget everything you've heard about frankness, sharing your feelings, getting him to express his. Research into the functions of the male mind makes it clear that discussion may be the fastest way to shut down communication. (Oh, you noticed that, have you?)"

Graham sat down with psychotherapists Patricia Love and Steven Stosny. They teach extensively on gender differences, and last year co-wrote "How to Improve Your Marriage Without Talking About It."

Stosny explains that "talking about feelings, which is soothing to women, makes men physically uncomfortable. There's literally more blood flow to the muscles. They get fidgety and women think they're not listening."

"Durh!" Any woman worth her salt knows men are different than women and should NEVER be required to replace the women who are close to her in her life, just as any man worth his salt will not expect his woman to be his 'buddy.'

Now, if we could convince the super-intellectuals that there are deeply ingrained differences in the genders, that each of us is part of the Whole, not The Same, we'd be MUCH better off as a Society...not to mention that we'd have MUCH happier marriages AND children.

Chick fil A Giveaway!

Wear your favorite team logo to Chick-fil-A on Monday from 10:30am to closing time, get a FREE Original Chicken Sandwich...that would be the one buttered...with a pickle. The BEST!

Sounds good, I'll have to find my Hawai'i shirt again...or Navy...or borrow a Gator shirt from Handsome Son-in-law! Don't have one for the Northern Lights, which is MY alma mater...*sigh*

Well, I'm outta here for now, we're going for an overnight stay-cation in the camper...in the front yard. Needed to move it and open it and clean it, don't feel like fighting crowds, traffic, and drunk drivers, so here we are. Gotta love it!

Y'all stay safe. Thanks for stopping by.

UPDATE: What a yummy lunch with hubby! TONS of Gator gear and Jaguar jerseys, with a smattering of Georgia and Florida State University. Saw one Clemson, a Navy Hockey, and one Florida State College at Jacksonville (formerly Florida Community College - Jacksonville). I had the only Hawai'i shirt and My Chief was wearing the only Padres shirt I saw.

from Patriot Guard Riders website

...we stand in flag lines

...we stand for hours in silence

So we can see one moment like this.............


(tip of my cap to My Chief, who sent this in an email this morning)

"Drunks" by Jack McCarthy

We died of pneumonia in furnished rooms where they found us three days later when somebody complained about the smell.

We died against bridge abutments and nobody knew if it was suicide

and we probably didn’t know either except in the sense that it was always suicide.

We died in hospitals, our stomachs huge, distended and there was nothing they could do.

We died in cells, never knowing whether we were guilty or not.

We went to priests, they gave us pledges, they told us to pray, they told us to go and sin no more, but go. We tried and we died.

We died of overdoses, we died in bed (but usually not the Big Bed)

We died in straitjackets, in the DT’s seeing God knows what, creeping skittering slithering shuffling things.

And you know what the worst thing was? The worst thing was that nobody ever believed how hard we tried.

We went to doctors and they gave us stuff to take that would make us sick when we drank on the principle of so crazy, it just might work, I guess, or maybe they just shook their heads and sent us to places like Dropkick Murphy’s.

And when we got out we were hooked on paraldehyde or maybe we lied to the doctors and they told us not to drink so much, just drink like me.

And we tried, and we died.

We drowned in our own vomit or choked on it, our broken jaws wired shut. We died playing Russian roulette and people thought we’d lost, but we knew better.

We died under the hoofs of horses, under the wheels of vehicles, under the knives and boot heels of our brother drunks.

We died in shame.

And you know what was even worse, was that we couldn’t believe it ourselves, that we had tried.

We figured we just thought we tried and we died believing that we hadn’t tried, believing that we didn’t know what it meant to try.

When we were desperate enough or hopeful or deluded or embattled enough to go for help we went to people with letters after their names

and prayed that they might have read the right books that had the right words in them, never suspecting the terrifying truth, that the right words, as simple as they were, had not been written yet.

We died falling off girders on high buildings, because of course ironworkers drink, of course they do.

We died with a shotgun in our mouth, or jumping off a bridge, and everybody knew it was suicide.

We died under the Southeast Expressway, with our hands tied behind us and a bullet in the back of our head, because this time the people that we disappointed were the wrong people.

We died in convulsions, or of “insult to the brain”, we died incontinent, and in disgrace, abandoned .

If we were women, we died degraded, because women have so much more to live up to.

We tried and we died and nobody cried. And the very worst thing was that for every one of us that died, there were another hundred of us, or another thousand, who wished that we could die, who went to sleep praying we would not have to wake up because what we were enduring was intolerable and we knew in our hearts it wasn’t ever gonna change.

One day in a hospital room in New York City, one of us had what the books call a transforming spiritual experience, and he said to himself “I’ve got it .” (no, you haven’t you’ve only got part of it) ” and I have to share it.” (now you’ve ALMOST got it) and he kept trying to give it away, but we couldn’t hear it. We tried and we died.

We died of one last cigarette, the comfort of its glowing in the dark.

We passed out and the bed caught fire. They said we suffocated before our body burned, they said we never felt a thing , that was the best way maybe that we died, except sometimes we took our family with us.

And the man in New York was so sure he had it, he tried to love us into sobriety, but that didn’t work either, love confuses drunks and he tried and we still died.

One after another we got his hopes up and we broke his heart,

Because that’s what we do.

And the worst thing was that every time we thought we knew what the worst thing was something happened that was worse.

Until a day came in a hotel lobby and it wasn’t in Rome, or Jerusalem,

Or Mecca or even Dublin, or South Boston, it was in Akron, Ohio, for Christ’s sake.

A day came when the man said I have to find a drunk because I need him As much as he needs me (NOW you’ve got it).

And the transmission line, after all those years, was open, the transmission line was open. And now we don’t go to priests, and we don’t go to doctors and people with letters after their names.

We come to people who have been there, we come to each other. We come to try and we don’t have to die………

Because another one died Friday...that's three this year that we know personally...