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When a disaster hits…Please think of us!

 

This is just a reminder note to all you pet owners. Please, please, please see to all dogs, cats, birds, rabbits, and all your other non-human friends safety, when disaster knocks on the door. Aren’t we your buddies? Just because many of us have four legs, not two, doesn’t make us any less loyal. Most of us provide you with unconditional love. Should you do less for your friends? Locking us in a room with a few bowls of food doesn’t get it. Would you do that to Aunt Pamela? Or your neighbor Fred? Take us with you and provide for us. Do you really thing we can survive something like you see below?

Rarely can a pet survive this!

Do you want your friend to end up like the ones below?

A welcome helping hand.

 

Stranded! Be better than __________!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please take care of us when disaster strikes!

Get out and vote!

VOTE !

VOTE! If you’ve never done it before, do it now! This election will determine the future of the country…that’s NOT hyperbole, hype, or exaggeration. Many people see politics and are repulsed by them. In the past, a significant percentage of the US population has told themselves, “Why bother? Things just stay the same.” This time that won’t happen. The citizens of this country are faced with a formative decision. Shall we continue on the path we have followed for over 200 years, that of focus on individual freedom or shall we proceed down a path trod by others, that of the collective state. History tells us, when it’s allowed, the outcome of both forms. It’s a simple choice. Do what you WANT, or do what you’re TOLD. What makes this election different is that one course may make it nearly impossible to return to the other.

ūüėí Twitter had originally censored this post!!

Humans, humans, go away…come back after election day.

Sometimes humans make me sick!

 

Does anyone know where I can hide until after the month of November?

 

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I just don’t understand humans…

I wonder if I’ll ever understand humans!

 

The more I see of humans, the more I wonder about them being the dominant species on earth.

An example comes to my canine mind.

Have you thought about the way the species has approached the Covid-19 virus? It seems the most important thing to accomplish is to find something or someone to blame. Solutions are of secondary importance. Who is to blame! Really, that should be, ‘Who can we blame!’ The lists to choose from are long, and most are politically inspired. Let’s see…Republicans…Democrats…the Chinese…the Americans…eating wildlife…a lab…immigration…the Wall…the WHO…the CDC…Fox News…CNN…Bob Hope…Mickey Mouse. Most of the headlines are centered on things that don’t help solve the problem. If you watch that institution that laughingly calls itself the news media, you might get a thirty-second update on progress on the vaccine. Of course, that’s after hours of political wrangling over masks or no masks, gatherings are taboo or race riots are fine, open up or stay closed, three feet or six feet, inside or outside, etc.

This?

or this?

Have you seen the first call for volunteers to test vaccines on national news? No, no, no, that would be constructive. How about a detailed report on how many efforts are being made to find the ‘cure?’ What the detailed progress is? Naaaa! That would be informative. How about pushing the use of ultra-violet light to kill as much of the virus as possible in crowded, high-risk areas? Restrooms… reception areas… public transportation? Hell no, that’s common sense, it isn’t supported by a computer model that was produced by a college. You know like the one that predicted we’d have 2,500,000 people die of the corona virus…of course reality tells us it was a little off. Only about 2,400,000 minus a few. That would offend the academic and medical elites who have all eggs in the vaccine basket.¬†

Though the stupidity of the species is elevating to new heights it isn’t a recent phenomenon. Slavery in Egypt and Africa, the Spanish Inquisition, Slavery in the US, a couple of World Wars, they are species that does not learn. Nero fiddled while Rome burned. What are you folks doing? Humans, YUK!

 

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Cabin Fever!! TV makes it worse.

As close as I’m getting to the out side, A ride in the car

 

I don’t know about you, but I think life inside walls stinks!¬† My humans are doing the social distancing thing…religiously.

Before the Chinese Crud, taking a bathroom break was not a big deal. I hunt up the most convenient human, (usually Mrs. G – the Geezer is usually chained to the computer), give them a pathetic look, head for the door, wham…open Sesame…we go out for my relief. Not now. Before they exit they get the binoculars, check the road in both directions, wind direction, fan the air to chase away any clouds of virus laden droplets coughed or sneezed by the isolated giant who happened to stomp over the neighborhood. I expect them to fly a barge balloon over the house to discourage low flying aircraft.¬†

The Geezer and Mrs. G. stay entombed in the house, venturing out only to get groceries. My outdoor time is limited to potty breaks and riding shotgun in the car on my human’s grocery excursions.

Being relegated to life inside the walls means a steady diet of manure servings from the tube. TV is bad enough, but having to endure the steady parade of politicians, bureaucrats, and medical “experts” who are so self-impressed they need lead weights to keep their helium filled big heads from caring them up to the top of the stratosphere, is unbearable. My humans agree on that.

The Geezer has a good idea for raising money to pay for some of the costs. His idea is simple and he calls them potty pals. The picture of the politician you love to hate is placed on a plastic sheet with a ring around it. The ring is the same shape and size as a standard toilet. A star-burst is cut in the center. Place the potty pal in the pooper and shazaammmm…It will make a trip to the toilet more enjoyable. There’s no end to the potential targets. The Geezer’s favorite potty pal would be WHO Director General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus. He calls him Sheisskopf for short.

Watching the endless parade of politicians vomit the same manure hour after hour on podiums is nauseating. The interesting thing is many simple inexpensive things could be done to attack the virus. It seems that anything that does not genuflect to the elitist academic egg heads is branded chafe before its reviewed.

The only redeeming portion of the whole TV spectacle is the recognition the on the front medical personnel are so rightfully receiving. They deserve all the praise they’re getting plus!

Let’s hope this ends soon. If the virus doesn’t wipe out society, TV and the elitist will.

 

WOOF  WOOF

 

“What’s in my head is what I’ve read!”

Reading makes me a better bear.

As you probably know, my human is an author. I call him the Geezer. I usually don’t talk much about his writing, because he does enough of that. However, one of the things the old boy does is really pretty cool. Why? Because he wants kids to develop an interest and love for reading. Even though he’s not a children’s author, he wrote and produces a short book for kids from preschool through 4th grade. The book’s title is, “Why reading makes me a better bear.”

I have to take part of the credit for “Better Bear.” The Geezer would often mutter and complain to me after making one of his many, many historical presentations. His standard complaint was as follows:¬†It drives me crazy! Parents and grandparents bring their young ones up after I speak. I ask the kids what the last book they read is, and they look at me like I’m a Martian! Don’t the parents and kids understand reading is the foundation for all learning? I got tired of listening to it, so I told him, “Stop talking and start doing.”

One of the unique things about this children’s book are the last two pages. They don’t finish this book, they are what the Geezer hopes will be the beginning of adults working with, and encouraging their loved ones to read! Giving a child the gift of love for, and appreciation of, reading, is one of the greatest acts a parent or grandparent can perform to insure the youths success in life. It doesn’t cost the adult a thing! A friend who has a doctorate in education helped him with those two pages. That friend’s specialty is reading retention.

What he does with the the book, is what I consider the best part. He gives them away to libraries and elementary schools. When he makes public appearances, he sells a few…all the funds collected from these sales are used to print more “Better Bears.” He has distributed close to 1500 to schools, libraries, and teachers to date.

One page from the book.

When I told the Geezer I was going to write about “Why reading makes me a better bear,” he said I could offer a free book to individuals who’d like a copy for their personal use. So I can send up to 200 out on a first-come-first-serve basis, after September 30th, 2019. Here’s how to get one:

Go to his web page at     www.dlhavlin.com

Under Inside the World (right side) – click on Contact

Complete the form required information –

Write in the comments section – “Send me a copy of Better Bear.”¬† Write the address to where you want it shipped.

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A day at the fair …

Englewood Florida’s “Cracker Fair” was a great event. Heavily attended, its organizers deserve to take a bow.

 

Wow! The event I attended over the weekend gets a five bone award on a five bone scale. It had something that all who attended could enjoy. Woof-woof for the “Lemon Bay Historical Society Cracker Fair.” Everything from demonstrations of pioneer living, to the wildlife that Florida’s early settlers had for neighbors entertained and educated. You couldn’t help but be impressed by the folks who made up the very large crowd. I spoke to men and women from nine different countries. (Count ’em – England, Canada, India, France, Denmark, Germany, Columbia, Switzerland, and South Africa.) Like you’d expect, many canines took their humans to the cultural event. I had a chance to bark with breeds from – Boxers to Yorkies – with Chihuahuas, Bull dogs, German Sheperds, and many others mixed in. Of course, other Goldens were well represented. I distributed my canine cookie recipe to so many, I almost ran out of the cards it’s printed on. Below are some interesting pics from the fair.

 

This hawk checked out the spectators. Old talons was part of the wildlife exhibit.

“Who dat?” The wise old owl asked about an admirer. Wildlife was there courtesy of a wildlife rescue/refuge group. They do great work!

There wasn’t a negative about the fair. The result on the Geezer … that’s another thing. It will take a month for the swelling to go down. He was the featured speaker during the town’s history week at Charlotte/Englewood library a few days before and many people stopped by to tell him they really enjoyed his presentation. (At that point, an air-compressor hose was attached to his cranium) A couple individuals asked him to speak to their organizations. If that wasn’t bad enough, four people who have read his books stopped by to buy more and tell him how much they loved his stuff. That last part, the loved his stuff, was bad! The compressor fired off. Putt, putt, putt, putt……… Next, two placed orders for a book he’s in the process of finishing. Compressor. Faster. ¬†Buttabuttabuttabutta……….. Finally, one person left her name with a standing order for each new book when it comes out. Compressor. Race. Bbbbrrrruuuummmmmmmm………. The old turkey will be hard to live with for a while. If I can find a large pin, I’ll puncture that balloon – that is if I can find a way to shelter from the gush of hot air that will rush out at hurricane force.

The Geezer loves history and the culture of ALL of our past. He believes that choosing to ignore history insures the same mistakes will be relived. Ignoring or “deleting” what’s happened won’t change one thing and only drastically increases the probability of an instant replay.

The Cracker Fair is all about history. Some intrepid re-enactors sweated and sweltered in the Florida sun so the visitors could get the flavor of the times. Below are a couple of gentlemen who were walking, talking history books. They added mystic and ambiance besides answering questions about the time period.

Infantryman Gene, a friendly fellow from the Florida militia, circa 1860s

Here comes the cavalry! An officer from the same period. One neat guy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Worse, the Geezer will be speaking at the Helen B. Hoffman Library, located at 501 N Fig Tree Lane, in Plantation, Florida, Monday 2/12 at 10 AM. He’ll be speaking about “The loyal 14th colony: Florida in the Revolutionary War.”

I may need a blimp tender to hold him down after that.

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“I speak to you from hallowed ground.”

 

“I am speaking to you today from hallowed ground.”

Just for the period of time it takes to read this post, I’d like you to imagine the words are being read to you by Charles Kuralt. All of you under forty are probably asking, “Who in the hell is Charles Kuralt?” Charles Kuralt was “the voice” of a CBS program that aired for years. It was titled On The Road. His distinctive voice was the signature for this show … a show that was all his. ¬†On The Road was¬†just that, Charlie nosed around the nooks, crannies, highways, and byways of the US. I know it may be hard for the younger folks who read this post¬†to believe, but once upon a time their were actual journalists on national television that were true to their vocation, not their political beliefs. It was a time before we were divided into blocks for political opportunism. Kuralt found and touched the heart and the soul of his viewers. As you read my words, hear them through his voice.

The historical marker for Camp Blanding. Though it tries to tell the story it can only hint at the brave people who traveled through history here.

I’m speaking to you today from a few hundred yards off of Florida Highway 16. It’s about midway between two places you probably never heard of, the towns of Starke to the west and Green Cove Springs which lies eastward. The grass field I’m sitting in the middle of, is part of the Camp Blanding Museum. Around me are the tools of wars past. They’re reminders of what this place was, one of the important training areas for a war that would engulf the world. What remains of this site as an active military center is behind the entrance south of the museum. It’s only a token of what was once arguably the largest city in Florida. Over 300,000 men and women trained or worked here. Look around and you see what young men came to this place to learn to use. They had to do this to help win a war we could have lost and as importantly to give them their best chance of surviving it.

One of the artillery pieces on display. An artillery barrage was an infantryman’s worst nightmare.

This 1 1/2 ton truck was a World War II workhorse. Men road in it and supplies it carried kept them fighting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Sherman. This M4A1 version was a medium tank. Shermans were the primary battle armor used by US forces in WWII. Its numbers offset the German armors superiority.

Looking inside the drivers compartments of these vehicles is a shock to some. The levers, switches, and mechanisms are crude by 2017 standards. A young man asked, “Did they really fight in these things?” An old man answered, “We sure did and we did a damned good job of it!” There was more in his voice than pride in having served and survived. In his eye and tone there was that reverence those who have experienced combat have for those they knew who did not return to stand here today.

The lawn around the museum is home to many vehicles. Half-tracks, DUKWs, ambulances, trucks, field pieces, all are pages of a book that tell us a story. Even a C-47 transport plane with D-day markings graces a concrete pad, a reminder of 508th Paratroop Regiment who trained in the sands beyond the guard gate.

Mixed in with the vehicles are monuments to the Army units that trained here and the people that were flesh and bone that gave them life. Among them was the Big Red One – the first army division. Nine infantry divisions lived here and learned about war on these grounds. There are monuments to the extra brave who began their journey into hell at this place. One honors distinguished service cross recipients and another the nations highest award, The Medal of Honor. Both have a significant number of names chiseled into stone to remind us of sacrifice and that sometimes forgotten word – honor.

Going inside the museum is like stepping through a time portal on Star Trek. We see what we were. What we did. Right and wrong.

A D-day newspaper. This sealed Hitler’s fate.

A GI dressed for battle

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The pictures and exhibits show us what a base for a quarter of a million men looked like. Row upon row of small cabins, barracks like the one the museum is housed in, hospitals, theaters, commissary¬†buildings, maintenance facilities, everything that a city of that size needed to exist was built in Florida’s wilderness. Work on Blanding was a seven day a week, three shift schedule in 1940-1941. Today, most of the 150,000 acres that is Camp Blanding has been reclaimed by the pine barrens and swamps from which it was hacked. Concrete foundations, weathered and hidden by nature, dot the ground and are the ghosts that haunt these woods.

Reminders of the past always bring bitter to go with sweet. Exhibits remind us of where we’ve been, some of them telling us of what we did wrong. The Army of 1940 was one that was still segregated. Separate facilities, living areas, even swimming lakes are indictments of what just one of our societies mistakes has been.

It tells us of things we did correctly. Few know that many German POWs were transported to the USA. Camp Blanding hosted around 2,000. They lived in the same type facilities as our GIs. They were given jobs and paid to do them. Contrast that to the fate of POWs in German or Russian hands. Less than 10% survived the war and literally this amounted to millions of deaths. More than 15% of Germans elected to stay in the US and become citizens and over 98% survived.

Places like this, Camp Blanding, are places that should bring us together. We can attempt to change history, there are those who do, but it really won’t change. Camp Blanding is a string tied around our finger, like ones used by our country men before computers, to remind them of something they had to do. If we forget the good and bad that history teaches, we’ll neither continue our virtues or avoid our mistakes. Humans are on a long voyage of discovery. That discovery is how imperfect we really are. We have to embrace what we have become, not languish in what we were, but learn from where we’ve been.

The Medal of Honor.

 

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Saaaa-lute!

My salute to all U.S. veterans and our current military. To the living and especially to those who gave their all, God bless you!

 

Thank you!

 

Thank you, Thank you, Thank You!

Words aren’t always enough. We owe so much to those who have fought for our freedom, gained it and have protected it ever since. But since this is the best we can do … THANK YOU from my heart … and the Geezer’s.

 

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21st Century Torture … Political Conventions

 

Enough already. I'm weary of politics. Won't somebody flush?

Enough already. I’m weary of politics. Won’t somebody flush?

 

Water Boarding? Child’s play. The Rack? A stretching experience. Iron Maiden? Pin cushion in a case. Glowing hot pokers? Localized sun tans. All these tortures pale when compared to being exposed to the political conventions my human has on the tube.

I’ve compiled some of my thoughts after listening to the verbal vomit for the last two weeks.

  1. I wonder if many of the commentators prefer not to think before speaking because they like to be surprised by what their tongue produces.
  2. Humans are great examples of Darwin’s theory of evolution. Homo sapiens must have evolved from lemmings – they’re dumb enough to follow their leaders off of cliffs.
  3. Many convention speakers have the attitude that, “I could explain things to you, but I doubt you’d understand since you’re not elite like me.”
  4. Watching the protesters outside the conventions it’s plain these folk’s weren’t born with that little thing inside human brain’s that keeps them from saying or doing something they shouldn’t.
  5. As a canine, I have developed my understanding for normal human behavior to an acceptable level. It’s my tolerance for idiots that must be improved.
  6. Listening to many speakers, protesters, and commentators at these events you have to wonder if they use toilet paper with printed instructions on every sheet.
  7. Hey protesters: When is “old enough to know better” supposed to kick in?
  8. I couldn’t help wondering if all the human mental asylum’s in the nation had be shut and their inhabitants shipped to Philly and Cleveland.
  9. Let me get this straight humans – You humans lecture us on how love is the universal answer then follow that with¬†how much you hate and despise the other 50% in the country. I’ve seen two rival wolf packs fighting over a kill that have more understanding of the other group.
  10. These events verify the saying, “When you’re stupid, you don’t know you’re stupid – It’s only difficult for others!”

November can’t come quick enough.

 

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