Oh, God-Help us all!

 What has happened, America?

Once upon a time I heard a quote from I do not even know who (or whom?):  "Send us your poor, your downtrodden, your heavy laden...etc,?"  

Who said this, and why, and when?  And when did our America cease to be anything like it once was?

What has happened, America?  Where did we go wrong?  Is there no comfort for those who need help, for those who have nothing, for those who are seeking something, anything, any single something that might allow them to pursue that one-time American dream?  

Today, this morning watching "GMA3, What you NEED to KNOW" on my local ABC channel 6-1WJBF Augusta, I am seeing people, real people wading across our border river with Mexico,  hoping to share in this one-time American dream, hoping against hope that the dream may still be alive.

Well, when the border patrol shows up, it is pretty much a done deal.  The American dream is, today, a pipe dream.  We no longer are a welcoming people.  We are. if anything, just the opposite,

The question I have is: "Is there anything that can be done for these very real and very needy people?"  Real people, at that, people just like you and me and our own children?

What can our America do for these poor, desperate people that come to us for whatever help we might be able to give. help that we are, obviously, denying?

Is this our America?  Where else can they go.  Where else can those of us who would hope the first sentence in this sad tale were still something to be hoped for, something that should be making us hate our own country for what we have, obviously, become?

Where can any of us go today?

Alzheimers a problem?

Plan, plan--who, me?

Ok, so I have this problem.  Doc says it's Alzheimers, and, having read just a bit (well, everything I could find on the subject), I totally agree with the Doc,  That's just what it is.  So, on sitting around for a number of months, getting little done (darn near nothing,) I am going to try to do just a bit to change all this.  Question is:  What to do?  And, how to do it? 

What to do is pretty simple.  I need to develop a plan for the rest of my life, regardless of how much, or how little time that may be.  That's what this is all about, and my hopes are that I will benefit and also that others who find themselves in my situation might benefit too.  So--where to go from here?  (Pretty obvious, right?  How about that part two, "how to do it?")  Much easier to ask the question than to come up with the answer here.

OK, so here goes.

    How about a list:

1)  The first thing is that list.  Start with "1" and continue (so, there is my "1.")

2)  Now for the questions:  Where am I today?  Well, with Alzheimers, I'm a bit bewildered.  This is something I would like to do, but can I?  (Assume "yes.") (May need quite a few "assumptions" here.)

3)  Of course, as we say, the Devil's in the details.  Devil time, I'd say!

4)  List continues with, well. what do I do now?  (I really don't know.)

Maybe this is what Alzheiners is all about.  Memory is gone.  If not gone, it is highly attenuated to the point of having difficulties doing what we really want to do.  Like writing a list, for instance.  If you don't believe me now, go back to the beginning of this short article and reread it.  Go ahead--do it now!

Charlie Brown said it best:  Good grief!

Any questions?

Comments?

  

VietNam remembrance

 A little something I sent to the newspaper, our AikenStandard.  Published May 10.  Thought I'd like to have it here, too.

Dear AikenStandard: 

 

Thank you for your article on the moving of the Vietnam war memorial that used to be in front of our police department and our main post office.  It was appropriately placed there at the time it was created, and now is, again, in an even more appropriate place for all to see and, for some, to understand.  TET of 1968 (TET being a local important holiday in Vietnam) was a difficult time for troops in Vietnam.  It was a time when North Vietnam’s leader, “Uncle Ho,” really “Ho Chi Minh”, decided to show us he could hit us anytime and anywhere he wished.  He decided to do it, and his troops, mostly part-timers from the civilians in the area who supported his hopes for their country, did it.  Those who were at one of our largest American bases, Tan Son Nhut, a facility collocated with the Saigon airport, along with most, if not all (I just don’t know) bases with American troops, were provided with a sample of what “Uncle Ho” wished us to see.  I was there as was, I believe, Kenny Lail, a friend and Aiken HS Graduate from my class who also was assigned to service in VietNam at the time. 

 

Twenty-six defenders of this base had the opportunity to return home a bit before their year was up.  They returned, as did many others, each in one of those aluminum containers provided for each and every one of those 29,000, +/- Americans who were killed in that war.  Many who were able to see the flatbed trucks taking their loads to the cargo planes designated to return these troops to their homeland gave them their last “in country” salute.  Not something they wanted, for sure, but the only thing “we the living” (thanks, Ayn Rand) were able to do for them at that time.  And, yes, I was able to give my salute to them as I walked to my duty assignment after that incident.  A few months later, I was able to join them with my return home, without that aluminum covering, though.  Glad I was able to return in the preferred manner, as were my parents, relatives, and friends.  This was the end of my full-time military duty.  I mustered out at a facility near, I think, San Francisco, or possibly Los Angeles, where the Tech-Sergeant who completed the necessary paperwork advised me to leave by a back gate, there being a crowd of protesters at the main gate.  I did as he said, and, afterward, wished I hadn’t.  I wish I had passed by those protesters, with or without the spit that was, seemingly, their thing for Americans who had been tasked with the assignment I, an Airman First Class, had been tasked with.  Oh, well, that’s just the way things were in those 1968 days.

 

Glad to be home today.  Thanks, again, for the memories, AikenStandard.  And thanks to all who created and finalized this remembrance to those of our military, some of whom preceded me in my return, one of whom was a personal friend of my daughter.

 

And, I, of course, do appreciate the monument that we have to those we lost in that war.  They were good people, doing a thankless job.  They deserve the monument, even if many of the rest of us do not deserve one single thing for what we did, or were doing, at the time.  And, as for those spitters, I, personally, would be happy to return the favor to one and all of them.  They, not we, our country’s military assignees to the war, they are the ones who should have been spit on, by damn near every other proud American.  We might have been wrong to have supported some of the VietNamese who were running their country at the time, but our military personnel were not to blame for that—not one bit!

 

Stephen Vaughn Geddes

A1C, at the time, SMSGT, Ret’d, SC Air National Guard

Aiken

WJBF--WHY?

 Watching my channel 6 (WJBF- Augusta, in my viewing area) this morning, I find when they go to their commercial blah blah's, they, the station controllers, often (?) increase their volume transmission.  Guess what, stupes?  I set my volume to where I want it.  Tell your commercial people what they do by increasing your volume is me changing my volume from whatever you might be sending to "OFF!"  And, everyone I know will read this and maybe emulate this TV user by doing the same.  If that is what your commercial payers want, that is what they will get--from more and more of us users.  Like it?  Try it!

It's a dog's life

 

Nighttime is a time to remember things.  Tonight I’m remembering things like those oversized chairs they had in the movie theater in Orangeburg when I was growing up there.  John Quincy Duke chairs, (or John Henry Duke chairs, not really sure here,) after a pretty large man who could go to the movies and have a seat that would fit him.  At least that’s the way I remember it.  Could be that middle name and the death of a beloved dog of a friend of mine who lives a couple of streets away and who writes very well for our paper, among other things, brought back a memory from my youth—the memory of that chair in the movie theatre in Orangeburg.  And why, pray tell, is that?  I haven't the slightest!

Her best friend, perhaps, she called “Q” for Quincy.  He left us so suddenly—I remember hearing him bark at Stella and me as we were taking our walk a couple of days ago.  I, too, am sorry to see him go.  His leaving reminded me of our sweet dog Tobi—or TobiJuan, you see!  I remember how we loved TobiJuan and sometimes would call him by his full name, TobiJuan Kenobi (Geddes.)  I wonder how many people today would recognize that name—part of it, anyway!  Tobi left unexpectedly one day a little over two years ago.  It took us a year to even consider replacing him with another, and then darling daughter Lara brought Stella by and suddenly we were no longer dogless.  Strange how things happen sometimes, and how that change changes much in our lives.  While we did so miss Tobi, we are so very happy to have Stella.  Sorry about Q, though.  Sorry for our friend, too.  So very sorry!

Shark Tank proposal? Sure!

 OK, so here it is:  I'm lying in my bed watching ABC's "Shark Tank" program and giving myself a little laugh, thinking "sure, they probably might invite you to drop by, if they might like to give the show, and their viewers, a little laugh!"  Their guests bring their businesses to the "sharks" to see what they might offer them to get a percentage of their businesses.  

So I think, I am an author, and I am selling a bit over Amazon (my book,) so what do you think a piece of that "pie" might be worth to one of these entrepreneurs?  I mean, just getting on their show is bound to bring in a good bit of interest in the book, and, who knows, given a few million sales, the winning "shark" just might be interested in raking in (say what?) a dollar a book, perhaps?  Well, that would be some pretty easy money for whomever won the prize of the night to participate in your book sale!

No doubt about it, I just might have to send them a proposal.

And why not?  I could end up with a TV appearance, and a pocket full of money to boot after a million or so of the viewers decide they just could not pass up the opportunity to read about the life of this little South Carolina boy!  All I need to do now is think about this a bit and develop a really great proposal to send to the folks at "Shark Tank!"

It's on every Saturday night, on ABC, and you really need to watch to join in on the fun!

And a big "Thank you" to all of you who can afford the eleven bucks for the book!

"Thank You!!!"

We, wee, oui, perhaps?

 

Which “we-“ isit ?

Dog and I went for our usual walk this morning, and all was well.  All is usually well on our walks, and generally the only thing that is needed is taken care of by one or the other of us rather simply.  You see, the main thing we need to do is generally done with a brief pause by the side of the road.  Or, really what I should have said is, a wee pause by the side of the road?  

This, though, is a bit ill-defined in that a wee pause, or a wee break can mean one of a couple of things.  The main question is “is that wee a noun, or an adjective?”  In one case a bit of material is left for the grass to enjoy.  In the other case there is just a slight pause and nothing else need be considered.  So, as one’s English teacher might say, which is it:  a noun or an adjective?  What is the difference here?

Well, it is something that is not particularly difficult, you see. And in knowing which “wee” we are talking about is just a bit necessary, in any case. 

One thing’s for sure:  We all wee just a wee bit too—right? 

Take that to your English teacher.  I don't suspect Ms. Carr is still with us, but if she were, I know she would appreciate this!

(😊)