Personal

I got older last week.

Send presents!

Not to me, though.

To them:

Same reasons as ever:

Supporting the troops is an apolitical job... Remember: Don't Do Nothing. Showing support is important, but so is doing something in support.

There are many local and national programs for care packages, supporting military families with loved ones in harms way, and supporting veterans in need of assistance as well. A little time and money from everybody who can goes a long way.

Here's a handy link of various organizations that do care packages. I'm a big fan of the USO and Anysoldier.com myself... and definitely check out the local project, Toys-For-Troops.

"Until they all come home..."

If you needed an extra excuse... make it my birthday present.

The Bulls pulled off an upset and snagged the top pick in the NBA draft.  John Paxson may have wished that he got the second pick, which will come with less pressure.  Regardless, I hope the Bulls pick Beasley.  With Hinrich already on the team, the need for a point is not high.  Plus, you'd have to unload Hinrich if you picked Rose, and after Hinrich's last season, that's not going to be easy.  We've needed low post scoring for about a decade it seems, and Beasley is a 20/10 guy right out of the box.

SI did a fan survey and while by their own admission, the survey doesn't do justice to the older parks like Wrigley and Fenway, the internals are interesting, including the observation that Cardinal fans have the highest baseball IQ.  I wish I could say I disagree, but I can't.  I will argue with the Sox fans being ahead of the Cubs' fans however.  I guess it depends on how you rate eternal pessimism vs. eternal optimism.

I think I've probably been more obnoxious and more of jerk lately to our Obama fans.  My disappointment in the candidate has me getting into spirited debates with a lot of Obama supporters here and little quicker on the submit trigger than I probably should be.  Though I've probably deleted more than I've actually posted with second thoughts, I think I've been a bit more than unfair... especially with some of my favorite political sparring partners.

 

I've been too dismissive.  I've been hypercritical.  I've been overly presumptuous.  I've been hypocritical in lumping people together unfairly.  And I've been using way too much hyperbole.

 

So to everyone I've been an obnoxious jerk to lately, I apologize for all of the above.

 

[excludes the anti-McCain conspiracy theorist anonymous poster]

Summer is coming, and that means vacations for some people.  This year we're joining my sisters and mother on a trip to Colorado in June and then making another trip to see my mother in South Carolina later in August.  Two vacations in one summer is pretty luxurious by my standards and I truly feel blessed to have that opportunity.

Growing up, we only took three noteworthy trips as a family.  Once  to New York, via Niagara Falls for a wedding.  Another time for a few days to St. Louis.  And a third time to North Carolina to visit Grandma.  That was the vacation when we actually had a station wagon.  The first two were in a Chrysler Newport in the days when one of the four children sat in the middle of the front seat.  (Is any car made with a bench seat in front anymore?)  I'm still not sure how we got a week's worth of luggage (including three lime green leisure suits) and  a cooler (so we could save by avoiding restaurants) into that car. 

So that's my background going into the AP story I read this morning about the plight of Edward and Dena Brody.

The Brodys, like many Americans feeling economic strain, are spending their family vacation closer to home. The couple has rented a vacation home in Martha's Vineyard instead of a 12-day family vacation to Europe.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to feel sorry for the Brodys.  I'm not sure what the Brodys want me to feel about them after participating in this story.  This is at least the second trip to Martha's Vineyard for the Brodys.  I suspect for most people a trip to anywhere in Cape Cod is a once in a lifetime trip and a trip to the exclusive pricey Martha's Vineyard might never happen. 

I recall the '82 recession (the last big recession) pretty clearly.  High unemployment, high interest rates as the country tried to tackle inflation, farmers losing their land, people in the "Rust Belt" losing their jobs or the lucky ones like my father merely getting transferred to the "Sun Belt".  There was enough real misery at that time to fill the newspapers so I guess they didn't have to go out and write articles about people like the Brodys.  I don't recall any complaints in that recession about the price of arugula or the escalating cost of dance and piano lessons.  And I don't recall the plight of people losing their vacation homes to foreclosure. 

I know that there are plenty of  people having a tough time.  In fact, increased costs for basic necessities are hitting the working poor and middle class the hardest.  If the AP writers hung around in different circles, they might even find someone who's trip to Florida was cancelled and replaced by a camping trip to Turkey Run, or someone who's feeding their family macaroni and cheese for dinner instead of steak, or opting out of a dance class for their daughter and enrolling her in park district soccer instead.

Instead we get the sob story of the Brodys.  Perhaps next week we'll find out about yacht owners who can't afford the high cost of boat fuel.

Just about at this moment, exactly six months ago, this little fellow was born.

:-)

 

My heart is heavy today. A dear friend of many years died suddenly on Tuesday. Ben Louis was a wonderful guy and well respected in the community. He was an outstanding Illini basketball player in the days of Harv Schmidt. We’ve known Ben and Judy since the late 70’s…church, school, kids, sports. They helped celebrate our son’s wedding last September with us. Their son, Ryan, was a groomsman.

Judy, Wade, Kara, Ryan, and Jared have endured more hardships than any family should be allowed, and with grace and faith. One of Ben’s best friends, Tim Johnson, will be a speaker tomorrow. Our prayers and love go out to you, Judy.

It's amazing how quickly our lives and an entire generation can be thrust into chaos in a single, excruciating day...

infamy: evil reputation brought about by something grossly criminal, shocking, or brutal

For me, both days live in infamy. I never really understood the impact of 12/7 until 9/11. Within two weeks I had enlisted. Within a few months it was 12/7 again and I was reflecting upon both days from a naval base.

The two days are now forever intertwined in my heart.

appreciation: an expression of admiration, approval, or gratitude

But as we remember those lost, we should never forget those who carry on after these horrific events. Those who finish the fight at great personal cost and injury. We cannot simply build memorials to remember the dead... we must care for those who picked up the banner from the ashes and carried on.

Sen. Daniel Inouye, D-Hawaii, who witnessed the Pearl Harbor attack as a 17-year-old high school senior and who later received the Medal of Honor for fighting in Europe, said he hoped the ceremony would prompt people to think of those serving today.

"There are over 1.4 million in many countries, not just Iraq and Afghanistan, serving us, ready to stand in harms way for us," Inouye told The Associated Press this week. "And there are an equal number of families, children and wives and husbands spending time at home thinking about them." - AP

This part of the Baltimore Sun's article on a local Pearl Harbor veteran also struck me as relevant to this point:

Having spent the war in Hawaii or overseas, he was interested in seeing filmmaker Ken Burns' World War II documentary on PBS this fall to see the scenes from the home front during those years when he was away. The contrast to today struck him.

"All the civilians got out, and they did something to support the cause," he said. "We don't have that anymore."

This is unfortunately generally true. And it's a shame. Fortunately there are many people who try to make up for the general complacency and work tirelessly for our men and women in uniform, their families, and the veterans who often have great need for a helping hand or just sincere appreciation.

If you have not donated or helped with getting care packages out for the troops, please do. If you know any military families who might need some help, give it. If you know any vets who could use a hand, lend it. Heck, drop off a cake at the VFW or something. Anything.

Christmas time is coming... and we're at war (or whatever term floats your political boat). This is probably one of, if not the, hardest times of the year for military members and military families. Remembering the past is it critical, but should not be at the expense of forgetting the present.

.

Here's one way to say thanks:

That's a good start.

Here's more ways to give thanks:

Anysoldier.com.

USO

Toys for Troops

And ways to demand thanks:

Contact your US Rep and Senators (you might want to tell them to have a pen and paper handy):

• Demand that they stop the military branches from discharging soldiers for purely pre-existing conditions when they have service connected injuries and ailments... cutting them off from their earned benefits and often resulting in them getting a bill for their earned bonuses.

• Demand they review cases where this is believed to have already occurred.

• Demand that they standardize the DoD disability rating system so that service connected injuries deserving of retaining military benefits earn at least a 30% rating so our wounded vets get them.

• Demand that they do more to staff the VA bureaucracy so that claims of disabled vets can be decided faster and more accurately... no more skimming do to meet quotas while short on staff.

• Demand they address States with historically low ratings for veterans claims to ensure no more vets get told their shrapnel isn't service connected or other absurd excuses for low ratings.

• Demand they make mental health care more accessible to vets with appropriate staffing and allowing private care when VA facilities aren't nearby.

• Demand they do more to facilitate claims by homeless veterans with a claims process that is almost entirely done through the mail and taking a more pro-active role with shelters and other homeless advocates to ensure they are both aware of and able to get to the services available to them.

• Demand that if they're going to continue our operations in Iraq, whether they support it or not, that they increase the size of the military so our men and women in uniform do not have to endure extended and multiple tours with little leave. For both them and their families.

• Demand they thank the troops in more than words... but with actual support.

Don't just say thanks. Give thanks. Demand thanks.

My nams is Doug Welch and I blog at Stix Blog. I am also the Governmor of Illinois at  Grizzly Groundswell.  I live in Belleville, Il, St Clair County.

Come on by and check it out.  And I will try and come by here and post a littel about what is happening in Down State Illinois.

 

Links to the various stops in my road trip below (in order):

Smoky Mountain National Park


Charleston Harbor on Veterans Day

Capitol Square in Richmond, Virginia

Appomattox Court House

Harpers Ferry

Antietam

Walked in a lot of big footsteps... Jefferson, Marshall, General Lee, Grant, Eisenhower, Churchill, Lincoln, John Brown, W.E.B DuBois, FDR and countless others...

One of hell of a week.

(Note: Click any of the images below to make them larger)

What better way to spend Veteran's Day than in Charleston... a city with a rich military history dating back to our Revolutionary roots! While exploring the harbor I saw dozens of both current and former military in their various uniforms or hats/shirts/etc noting their service. I spent the day visiting the forts of the harbor.

Once again getting an early start, "by the dawn's early light" if you will:

Which soon became a blinding light as I headed straight for the sunrise:

In spite of some minor ocular damage I made it to Liberty Square, home of the Ft. Sumter Monument and the Charleston Aquarium:

It was nice to see they had the right flag waving:

That's not meant to be a cheap shot. The State of Alabama was still a bit confused earlier this year. I didn't have the heart to correct them (especially while driving around with my "Land of Lincoln" plates):

Back to Charleston...

Palm Trees! I feel like I'm officially on vacation now:

The Arthur Ravenel, Jr. Bridge, which according to wikipedia is "the longest cable-stayed bridge in the Western Hemisphere" and just dern impressive you ask me!

This big-ass cargo ship seemed almost too big as it went by...

But it cleared the bridge by a mile... that bridge is huge!

At the Fort Sumter Museum...

This one is for my Boston Buddy... the infamous caning of a Massachusetts liberal by a South Carolina conservative!

It wasn't too long ago that a poster gave credit to Christianity for the civil rights movement. It made me wonder at the time if he'd give it equal credit for justifying slavery and segregation back in the day. This part of the Ft. Sumter exhibit mentioned the religious and "natural law" arguments of the antebellum United States.

A fairly short ferry boat trip to Ft. Sumter... Charleston Harbor is amazing, by the way... and soon the distant blur starts coming into focus:

Most of the original Ft. Sumter looks a lot like this:

And this:

With some of the old "toys" strewn about:

And the usual dedications:

The fort was used after the Civil War and on up through WWII though, with a large dug-in battery installed at the center, known as Battery Huger:

A view from one of the old towers of Battery Huger:

Also on the island is a flag-based tribute to the fort's history. A collection of the flags that have flown over it and now fly over it today:

It was more than a bit eerie to walk around where the Civil War began. Not just because of the immense historical significance but also the human element. Imagine barricading yourself behind these thick brick walls... that are soon to be pelted with literally tons of cannon and artillery fire from both land and sea.

The long narrow entrances seem more like a tomb than an entryway:

Once inside and at your station, your window to the outside and angry world is around the edges of your cannon:

Behind a shadowy porthole, you await the enemy's barrage of projectiles... or in this case, second-hand smoke:

Inside the fort's island museum they had flags on display that had flown over the fort...

This was the union flag, but I had to attempt another panorama shot to get it all... it was both huge and there wasn't any room for me to back up to get it all in one or even two shots:

They frowned upon flash photography so I wasn't able to get a very good shot of the South Carolina militia flag that few over the fort upon its seizure:

All in all, well worth the twenty bucks I spent on the boat ride, and a couple trinkets.

On the way back I got a good look at the USS Yorkshire, an aircraft carrier turned into a museum at Patriot's Point:

Got another view of the Arthur Ravenel, Jr. Bridge too:

But nothing beats the view of the bridge through my dirty/dusty road-trip coated windshield while crossing it:

On to Ft. Moultrie, a fort who's history stretches from the Revolutionary War on through World War II:

Out in the distance is Ft. Sumter (the forts could be used to establish a cross fire against enemy ships attempting to enter the harbor):

All sorts of artillery are set up for viewing:

The monument tries to encompass as much as possible of the long history of the fort, so old guns...

...and newer guns... are on display (yeah, I want one of these):

Also some recreations, such as a powder keg magazine (no smoking):

And WWII era offices, restored to how they might have looked in that era:

Map room:

And radio room:

Afterwards I decided to take a stroll down to the beach... it was t-shirt weather by this point in the day, and I was elated to have driven until I ran out of road again.

On the way there, this little view over Ft. Moultrie struck me: Guns, God, and Glory...

The view from the beach:

Towards Charleston Harbor to the right:

Ft. Sumter out straight ahead:

And the Atlantic Ocean to the left:

One hell of a road trip so far.

One hell of a way to spend Veteran's Day.

A big thanks to all who served. Hopefully today's battlefields will soon be turned into solemn reminders to the next generation so that they may not have to repeat the ugliest side of history.

Now it's time for some VA pills and a long-ass nap...

10 Holiday Rules for my family**

**Signature to abide by rules required to enter and partake in the festivities!!

1.  Everyone must check their tiara at the door.  We are not your lowly subjects to pander to your every whim and fancy.  If you want something, get off your butt and go get it yourself!!

2.  No one, not even royalty, may have control of the TV or remote control for more than 30 minutes.  Football is on, for goodness sakes!  We don't care about the damn parade anyway!

3.  If you, your child, or spouse is deemed to be in need of mind-altering drugs as evaluated by me, those will be administered by me personally.  Herbs and bran do not effect behavior and mood--no matter how much you believe it to be true.

4.  If your IQ is below 110 or you don't agree with my religious, political, or educational beliefs, you need to leave now or risk bodily harm.  I don't have the time or patience to explain my big words and sophisticated ideas.

5.  If you are a size 6 or below, you may not whine and complain about how fat and out of shape you are.  If you do open your mouth to utter such nonsense, you will be forcibly fed 6 pieces of cheesecake.  Deal!

6.  Please sleep in your designated sleep area.  If you choose to fall asleep in the common living areas and expect everyone to whisper and tiptoe around you, you will find all of your hair cut off when you wake. 

7.  Do not expect your mother to wash, dry, and fold your clothes or your family's clothes.  This is not the dry cleaners.  Any clothes left on the floor or in wadded up piles in corners will be burned in a sacrificial pyre on the driveway and used to make s'mores.

8.  If you eat the food, you help wash the dishes and clean up.  Eating and then walking away to "watch" the 2 year old will be license for others to put the dirty dishes in your suitcase for you to take home and wash your own damn dishes.

9.  I don't care if you drive 2 miles or 200 miles, you are expected to walk in with 2 side dishes to share.  Make sure it's enough to feed 20 people and portion sizes will not be controlled or enforced.  Most people do not eat the bird food you seem to like, so make sure it has butter, salt, and heavy cream in the ingredients.  Splenda and Olestra will not be tolerated.  Any dishes not up to specs will be put down the garbage disposal.  No questions asked.

10.  DO NOT under ANY circumstances touch the thermostat!!! We are not stick figures that must enshroud ourselves in polar fleece from toes to nose to maintain normal body temperature.  We like to be comfortable and not sit in a sweat box.  Raising the temp. to above 68 degrees will be construed as an act of war and will be dealt with accordingly.  All windows and doors will be flung wide open and everyone will be required to dance around in their underwear.  Think about it.  Do you really want to see me in my grannie panties????  I didn't think so!

________________________________________________

signature, date, blood type, and name of beneficiary are required, should I be forced to kill you.  Your assistance is appreciated but not required.  Thank you for your support!!

Got bit by a dog today while walking home from breakfast. Fortunately I was wearing combat boots so my foot only got a bit crushed instead of torn up... but, "Ow!!!" nonetheless.

Some dark beefy dog just comes running down somebody's driveway barking and carrying on like I just kicked its puppy or something... "Easy easy easy!" I cried, but to no avail.

CHOMP!!!

Ow ow ow...

Wasn't too awful bad until I started walking on it... then it really started killing me. Hobbled and limped the rest of the way home after that. Stairs really suck sometimes. Ow... step... ow... step... ow...

I don't have the heart to call animal control about it, but god damn that was a bit unnerving. And it wasn't all that far away from a couple schools where kids walk by on their way to and from.

From the local municipal code:

Sec. 7-1. Definitions.

The following words and phrases, when used in this chapter, shall have the meanings respectively ascribed to them:
...
(5) Dangerous animal shall mean any individual animal which when either unmuzzled, unleashed, or unattended by its owner, or a member of the owner's family, in a vicious or terrorizing manner, approaches any person in an apparent attitude of attack upon streets, sidewalks, or any other public place.
...
(12) Vicious animal means:

a. Any individual animal that, unprovoked, inflicts bites or attacks a human being or other animal either on public or private property; or
b. Any individual animal with a known propensity, tendency or disposition to attack, without provocation, to cause injury or to otherwise endanger the safety of human beings or domestic animals; or
c. Any individual animal that has as a trait or characteristic and a generally known reputation for being vicious or dangerous, or for making unprovoked attacks upon human beings or other animals, unless handled in a particular manner or with special equipment; or
d. Any individual animal which attacks a human being or domestic animal without provocation; or
e. Any individual animal which has been found to be a "dangerous animal" upon two (2) separate occasions; or
f. Any individual animal that has been trained as an attack or guard dog and is found off the owner's property; or
g. Any individual animal that has been trained for fighting or is owned, kept or used for the purpose of fighting.

(C.B. 97-33, § 1, 3-4-97; C.B. No. 2005-134, § 1, 5-17-05)
Cross references: Definitions and rules of construction generally, § 1-3.

Sec. 7-6. Keeping of dangerous animals.

(a) No person shall keep or harbor any dangerous animal in violation of this section within the City. Such animals are hereby declared nuisances and are subject to impoundment.
(b) All owners or keepers of dogs found to be dangerous must post in clear view at all times, and in the most conspicuous or prominent point of entry to the premises, a sign indicating dangerous dog on the premises. Such sign shall be at least eight and one-half (8 1/2) inches by eleven (11) inches in size, and shall contain in words and pictures, a clear indication that a dangerous dog is on the premises. Signs meeting the requirements of this paragraph shall be made available at the Champaign Police Department for purchase by the public for a fee of five dollars ($5.00).
(c) All dogs found to be dangerous must be controlled by a leash whenever the dog is not contained within an enclosed area or structure located on the owner's or keeper's property from which the dog could not voluntarily leave.
(d) It is not the intent of this chapter to prohibit law enforcement officers from using any trained dog that may attack on command, provided that each such dog must be in the presence of its handler or confined in accordance with police department policy at all times.

(C.B. 97-33, § 1, 3-4-97)

Sec. 7-7. Keeping of vicious animals prohibited.

(a) No person shall keep, harbor, sell or give away any vicious animal within the City, whether or not owned by such person. Such animals are hereby declared nuisances and are subject to impoundment.
(b) An animal impounded under this section will not be returned to the owner unless the animal is not found to be vicious. Animals subsequently found to be vicious will be turned over by the city to an appropriate agent or agency for humane destruction.
(c) No landlord or landlord's agent shall knowingly permit any tenant to move a vicious dog into or keep a vicious dog in any building or premises owned or controlled by such landlord or agent. No landlord or landlord's agent shall knowingly permit any tenant to keep a vicious dog in any building or premises owned or controlled by such landlord or agent. Any landlord or agent thereof learning of any vicious dog in any building or premises owned or controlled by such a landlord or agent thereof shall notify theperson having such dog to remove the dog from the premises immediately.
(d) It is not the intent of this chapter to prohibit the police department from using any trained dog that may attack on command, provided that each such dog must be in the presence of its handler or confined in accordance with police department policy at all times.

(C.B. 97-33, § 1, 3-4-97)
Cross references: Animal Control Act, 510 ILCS 5/1 et seq.

If your dog has a habit of chomping on people walking on the sidewalk, keep the damn thing on a leash before it mangles some kid or bites somebody who doesn't care if your dog gets taken away.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go back to hobbling. Ow!

---Update 10/30/2007 - 11:06AM

Made a report with animal control about the incident and they're going to talk to the owners to make sure they keep a closer watch on the dog and keep it secure. The dog isn't in any danger so my worries about the dog getting punished for irresponsible owners aren't an issue either. Hopefully nobody else gets chomped while walking by. Thanks to all for your input, no matter how blunt.

I usually keep my personal stuff off of here and on my other site, but I'm going to post one picture just because I can.  :-)

Both Mom and Will are doing very well.

Thank you to everyone for the well wishes.  It was really an unexpected and pleasant surprise to check in here and see the nice comments.  Thank you very much for that.

According to recent polling:

33 percent of all Americans, including 40 percent of Republicans and 27 percent of Democrats, say Saddam Hussein was personally involved in the attacks on Sept. 11, 2001.

What the hell?

Where are these people?

And where are the people who are supposed to be slapping them?

Honestly!

My Labor Day weekend began yesterday afternoon when I took one last phone call before I turned off my office lights and walked out the door 45 minutes past closing time. As expected, it was a taxpayer wanting to discuss property tax issues. Given the fact that the deadline to file a property tax appeal is September 10, we’ve been getting a lot of calls and a lot of people coming through our offices.
 
This woman wanted an appeal form mailed out. I explained that we could fill that form in for her when she comes in—that we don’t require that the taxpayers provide evidence. She responded that she would be mailing in her appeal. I then tell her that she can download the form off the County website, and she says she doesn’t have Internet access. 
 
I go on to explain that County mail has already been picked up and this will go out in Tuesday’s mail, As I am getting ready to get her address, she starts screaming that she knows the deadline is September Ten and she will not be prevented from filing a complaint. At that point she declares that I should personally take this envelope to a post office and mail it on my way home so that she will have “enough” time to file this complaint.
 
I explain to her that the next time mail will be picked up at our office is on Tuesday and that I will not be going to a post office on my way home. She blows up and starts SCREAMING into the phone, “You LAZY g** d**n government types just don’t GET it! You can’t even be bothered to help out a Senior citizen…”
 
We got disconnected at that point in time. Our conversation was over as soon as the swearing began. Just like the under assessed woman last year that called me a “F***ing heartless bitch,” this senior citizen forfeited her access to my ear by directing profanity at me.
 
I am acutely aware that as a government employee I work for the taxpayers—every one of them. I will (and do) work at my desk while eating my lunch, I will stay late to accommodate their schedules, and I will do all I can to make them feel comfortable while they are in my offices. I regularly supply my own pens and candy for the candy dishes because I like doing it—I enjoy watching people take advantage of these small frills. 
 
I will even work overtime or at home just to get the job done timely and right because I think I owe you all that in return for what you pay me. I take that check every two weeks and I think you are entitled to these small things. I see it as a part of the employer / employee relationship.
 
What you are NOT entitled to do, however, is abuse me. I will show you every courtesy and I will do the best I can to provide good service and high quality work, and in return you will not swear at me or abuse my good will. I think that is fair, and I expect that in most civilized settings this expectation of mine is not an unreasonable one. 
 
 
As I head off to celebrate the working men and women of our nation and the accomplishments of the Labor Movement, I intend to celebrate all the people who do go to work every day in spite of the stones and arrows they endure. I celebrate the professionals who show up every day in spite of the abusive bosses and abrasive people they encounter.  I also celebrate the people who band together to demand their rights in the workplace. We should all be able to work in places that are safe, civilized and fair in the treatment of all the employees.
 
In solidarity!
 
 
Laura

I've always wished that an irresponsible billionaire would buy the Chicago Cubs from the eminently responsible corporation that currently owns them.  Maybe I'll get my wish.

On a beautiful September 1985 Fall day, I arrived at the Fairgrounds to fulfill my daily double dose of horse chores and noticed a one year old stray cat that someone had tossed aside as having no more value than a McDonalds wrapper. A couple of things about him caught my attention. First he had lion paws which were much larger and shaped differently than most cat paws and second, he was amazingly athletic and very personable for a stray cat. He followed me to the tack room and after I decided to give him a hand out of cat food, I started to do my chores. But as soon as he finished his treat, he laid down outside the stall I was cleaning and he only moved to follow me to the next stall and so on and so forth. As I was leaving, he even followed me to the truck and I glanced in the mirror to see him go to the tack room door and lay down again.

I arrived the next day and, to my surprise, he had recognized the truck and walked out to greet me. We did the same routine of him following me and waiting for me up to my leaving only to repeat the same thing for the evening chores and the chores for the next day. I had been adopted by him. So, on the third day, when he followed me to the truck after my evening chores, I figured such devotion couldn’t be all bad, picked him up in my arms and adopted him. After all, turn about was fair play, and whoever had discarded him might, just might, have made a big mistake. Even though his cat curiosity and personality was not angelic by any stretch, certainly his devotion to me was unmistakably that of an Angel, so Angel he was, for the rest of his life.

For the next 17 years, and seemingly knowing a good deal, he never left the house, except for a few one minute escapes, just to prove he could. Without fail, every day of his life with me, he would follow me room to room or to the door out and then meet me at the door when he heard the garage door announce my arrival. He slept at the head of our bed during the summer and at the foot of our bed during the cooler months, never leaving me. Masquerading as a dog, he continually and successfully mooched table scraps from me, much to my wife’s dismay. He even tolerated the occasional bath without holding a grudge, although his athleticism and lion’s paws certainly produced some very unfashionable and necessary apparel to get him washed. To all ends, he was my devoted friend.

But every day we spent together was also one less day that we would have together. Half way though our 17th year and his 18th year, Angel’s health began to fail. His muscular body was getting slender, his wonderful paws more normal and his athleticism also began to fail. I even had to start feeding him different food, because his bite, just wasn’t a bite anymore. But what did not fail, was his Angelic devotion. For even though it took him longer to follow, he was always in the same room, even though he could not jump onto the bed, he slept beside me on the floor all night, even though he was unable to jump to my lap, he laid his head on my feet while I watched TV or worked and every time the garage door announced me, he was there.

But on Sunday July 15, 2002, his legs gave out on him and he laid himself at my feet. So, just as I had picked him up 17 years ago, I picked him up and held him on my lap. A short hour passed and he laid his head back into my arms, looked at me and managed a meow that sounded much like “Good-bye”, sighed a long, deep sigh and left me. Angel, my devoted friend for 17 years, is now with the Angels and is probably listening for the Pearly Gates to announce my arrival so he can be by my side again. I do and will miss him.

But I write this blog for another reason, namely that of celebrating the devotion Angel or any other stray animal can give, if only given the chance, only a chance. There are many people at the Humane Society, that care and know this devotion is there, if only animals are given the chance. So with the mailing of this letter, I am also mailing, or will personally give, a donation to the Humane Society, in Angel’s name, to help these individuals give lost animals that chance of devotion. So if anyone who reads this letter, has suffered, or will suffer the loss of a devoted animal friend, simply will do the same and donate a “chance” to the Humane Society in that animal’s honor, then the only thing discarded on the streets will be McDonalds wrappers and not Angelic devotion.

To that end, I am, and shall always remain

Angel’s devoted friend,

As the result of an investigation spanning just over two months, we now have indisputable proof that bloggers do, indeed, exist in three dimensions. After years of general acceptance by the scientific community that bloggers were entities created solely of bits and existing only in the realm of cyberspace, our investigators have accumulated sufficient evidence to turn that long-accepted theory upside down.
 
The following bloggers, commenters, and readers have actually materialized as real, live human beings and have been spotted at least once at Memphis on Main since April 3, 2007 (in alphabetical order):
 

A Bartender You Know
And now for something completely different
Anonymous
Dan Fielding
Eggs Ackley
Former UC IMC Junkie
Gamera
Glock21
IlliniPundit
James Mortland
Karen Foster
Kevin Sandefur
Laura Sandefur
Matt Gladney
Ractivist
Run4cvrlib
Wandervogel
Wayward
Xian
A couple of folks whose names I don’t remember (apologies!)
And of course, yours truly.

 
While these elusive creatures may venture in at any time, the period with the highest frequency of blogger-spotting occurs on Tuesday evenings starting around 4:45-5 p.m. and generally lasting around 3-4 hours. They tend not to arrive or leave in groups, but do have a tendency to gather together while on the premises, and have even been observed rearranging furniture in order to promote their social rituals.
 
It really is fun. And as Eggs said in a now-put-to-bed thread, it’d be fun to see if we can get a better showing next Tuesday. So this is just me trying to stir things up a little to see if we can’t get on a few more calendars. Hey, where else are you going to hear phrases like “thread necrophilia” spoken out loud?