Class and blog update

For anyone checking on this blog I have made a few changes.

• Member blogs listed on top right.  They are listed according to date posted.
• Below the blog list is list of articles posted by members.  Each title has the writers name attached.  If you are interested in a particular member's post just click on the title and that article will come up.
• If you want to post a story you can log in with your password and copy to the "new post" area.  Once you copy from your own writing program you may need to do some editing.  (i.e. - letter size, paragraphs. etc.)
• If you have any questions, you can email me (Stan) and I will try to help.

If you have a blog and want it listed please email me the blog dope and I will put on the member list.

If you would like to start a blog I can help you get one up and running.  It is free and can be fun.

I highly suggest you follow Amy's blog.  She is a great writer and just reading her writing can help us all be better writers.  She posted a great blog called "The Box" on this site and also on her own site.  It reads much easier on her site due to editing problems on this site.  (sorry about that Amy.  I haven't figured how to make the site easier to copy from word)

We begin anew on Jan 04, 2011. but unfortunately I will be out of town and to make it worse I cannot remember if we had a volunteer for the prompts.

for our last session (12-14-2010) LoRee furnished the prompts:

1. If I could speak in another language it would be________, because...
2. My favorite Christmas carol is __________, because it always makes me___
3. If I could live one day of my life over again it would be the day....
4. I'm looking forward to 2011 because....
5. The one thing that really scares me to death is.......

The session was attended by LoRee, Betty, Jim, Jim, Barbara, myself and Mary.

Hope everyone is having a great holiday season.

The Box - Amy

The box arrived and I let it sit there. I knew what it contained. Something hard earned. Something wrought. Something personal. Something lasting. It sat there waiting for me to open it. There in the upper left corner of the square box, oversized, I thought for its contents, but befitting its sender, was the return address sticker. His name simply printed. Mine, scrawled in black felt marker. An artist's hand. I didn't want to open it because I knew that with one slice of the knife I would unseal emotion I had boxed up in order to begin a new chapter in my own life. I didn't want to open it because I wanted to hold on to the moment to the memory to him. But there it was beckoning to me through its corrugated exterior something to be relished something to be cherished. I slid the knife along the taped edges until it neatly opened. A knowing anticipation. A tiny, monumental, private moment between the two of us. The box within the box, a highly polished, lacquered piece of art itself shining amidst tissue paper and bubble wrap bespoke the treasure within. The story of a life and the author's signature laying claim to it. An effort spanning over eighty years. In my hands I held the gift of a lifetime. Jim's autobiography. Volume 1. Its title, A Song of My Years. For me. His story, a reminder of the unfinished chapters of my own life. The files of starts, nearly dones, abandoned pages of then waiting to be opened. A Song of My Years reminds me it's never too late to begin again. Jim's song a sweet symphony of inspiration I will savor for the rest of my life.

Bringing Christmas Home - connie

This is the Christmas story I started but never finished, it's the story that needed to be told (as Amy would say).

Bringing Christmas Home
“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.” ~Dr Seuss

The Grinch was on to something, Christmas always comes, in times of plenty and in times of want, with bells and whistles or in the most silent of nights, Christmas comes. This is a truth I learned on Christmas Eve, 1976.

It was my first Christmas as a single parent and oh how I wished that Christmas wouldn’t come. It just couldn’t come, there was no money for gifts, my family all lived out of state, and I had no idea how I was going to get the lights on the roof top or buy and haul a Christmas tree. Scared, lonely and the mother of a seven year old girl, it just wasn’t going to happen. But, of course, it did happen.

Erin’s “big gift” that year was a used stereo bought from a co-worker. A girl friend helped me drag a small Douglas fir home from the market and we twirled lights around the porch posts, skipping the perilous climb to the roof. My parents sent me $20.00 to use for goodies for Erin’s stocking and another $20.00 for her to shop for me. I drove her to the local dime store and waited in the car while she shopped. I think she bought at least 35 gifts with that $20.00. It was enough to fill the bottom of our tree with awkwardly wrapped packages, each topped with a stick-on bow.

I bought a steak to broil for our Christmas dinner, just one to share and we baked and decorated sugar cookies. Our little house was decorated, the fragrance of cookies filled the air, and the presto log was ready to light in the fireplace.

On Christmas Eve her father picked her up to take her to his family’s home, the place I spent my last ten Christmas Eves. This year he had his new fiancée with him and she was bringing the dessert. The dessert had always been my responsibility, my contribution to the family dinner. I was glad Erin would be with the family, her Grandparents, her Aunt and Uncle, her cousins but I felt discarded and replaced and terribly, terribly alone. I volunteered to drive an extra shift that night; I drove the Airport Shuttle bringing passengers home from the airport. I wore a funny Christmas hat and a smile was pasted on my face. Truth be told, my stiff upper lip was starting to tremble by the time I left the bus in the transit yard and headed for home.

I remember pulling into the drive way of my dark lonely little house and looking around our usually quiet little cul-de-sac. I could see that every house was lit up and my neighbor’s guests were parked along every square inch of curb. As I opened my screen door to insert my house key, a bottle of cheap red wine fell to the porch shattering upon contact with the concrete. An eager real estate agent that had been after me to list my house had put it between the door and the screen, where I saw a crumbled life and a ruined marriage, he saw dollar signs. The shattered bottle was my proverbial last straw. As I swept and hosed my porch I cried, not silent tears but great gulping sobs as I loudly repeated, “HO, HO, HO, Merry Christmas”. Looking back, I think I’m fortunate that none of the neighbors called the police.

I got the porch cleaned up just in time for my daughter to come home. She came through the front door and into my arms, hugging my neck and saying “I missed you Mommy” and Papa and Nah whispered and told me that they missed you too”. In that moment Christmas came, without ribbons and bows, cookies or carols, Christmas for me was my little girl walking through that door. She brought Christmas home.

U-2 - stan

This morning Connie sent an email about the U-2 Spy Plane.  It is a wonderful video that takes you too 70,000 feet and you fly above the clouds inside the U-2..  Watching the video was my first flight inside of the U-2 and actually I was amazed that it is still flying and that it is still flying spy missions.

I was aware of the U-2 program way back in the early 60's when it first used to fly over Russia.  I belonged to the Air force and Air Intelligence was my specialty.  However, I was only the flunky that filed the papers and emptied the waste baskets.

The U-2 used to take off from Barksdale AFB and I was privileged to see it take off on a few occasions.  The U-2 was not part of the program that I was involved with but when the Russians shot  the U-2 and Gary Powers down I was able to read all of the inside info on the flight.

Normally the U-2 flew way above the altitude the Russians were able to get to but they knew it was there and tried everything in their power to shoot it down.  They were not able to even come close until the plane had an engine burn-out and Powers couldn't get it restarted.  When if dropped to 30,000 feet the Russians were waiting and shot it down.

Theoretically Powers was supposed to take the "off" pill but he opted to live and bailed out.  His capture caused an international incident at the time.

When you watch the video notice that the plane is not marked in any way with the normal markings of a US war plane.  The pilot and the passenger have some kind of US patches pinned to their left shoulders.  They are not sewn on.  I assume they were there only for the publicity.

The reason the plane is not marked is that if it should crash in "enemy" territory the US can claim that it "knows nothing".

One final note.  The U-2 that I saw taking off would only hold one pilot.  After it left the run way it would begin a vertical flight that would take out of sight with in seconds.  It is basically a glider plane built around a huge jet engine.

To view the video go to the following link:

http://www.wimp.com/breathtakingfootage/

potatos, jellybeans and google - stan

just some thoughts on potatoes and jellybeans without out the use of google.  have no idea why.  they are just there and I need to regurgitate them.  the thoughts not the potatoes and jellybeans but maybe google.

there is a reason why i'm thinking along the lines of potatoes and jellybeans.  these thoughts were instigated by news stories.

sometime not to long ago, someplace in the USA, someone or somebody or some government bureaucracy banned potatoes from someplace claiming that we americans were getting to fat and potatoes were the cause (i think).

so a man that grows or sells potatoes protested by eating nothing but potatoes for 3 months or a similar period of time.  he ate potatoes for every meal.  he ate nothing but potatoes.  he lost weight.  not bad.  i like potatoes maybe it would work for me but I have a better idea.

jellybeans. 

pres. obama is going to sign a law that bans jellybeans in school lunches. the law will allow skittles but not jellybeans.  i am not even going to try and figure that one out but it may be because pres reagan loved jellybeans.  however, i do not want to accuse obama of being political when it comes to school lunches so maybe it is because he does not like jellybeans.

I have decided that I need to go on a jelly bean diet to protest the banning of jellybeans.
lets see, now I weigh  235.  check me out in three months

Meeting - 12-07-10

Small meeting today.  Judy was not feeling good, Barbara had car problems, LoRee went to see the Rockets.  I didn't hear from Diohne or Glory but assume they were baking cookies for next week.
Connie furnished the prompts.  They were excellent and based on Christmas.

Connie wrote on A Christmas that almost didn't come.  Excellent on her first Christmas after her divorce.

Betty used the "words" prompt and wrote an excellent story on an open house for Christmas

Jim Hunter wrote about "The best gift" and made a great case for family togetherness

Jim Haddad wrote about Ghost of Christmas past and the great Christmas decorations they used to put into store windows.  He ended it on a funny note about all you see now are manikins with only bras and panties.

I wrote a smartalec piece about the ghost of Christmas past drinking my Christmas spirit.

Mary wrote a nice piece about the best gift.

It would be fun if everyone typed them up and posted them on the blog (all I want for Christmas)

The stories that came from home were great.

Betty wrote an excellent tribute to her dad "Buddy"

Jim Hunter wrote a fun piece about a "Ronald Regan rose bush".

Jim Haddad wrote about his memories "Pearl Harbor" bombing as he listened to the radio that fateful morning.

I wrote a story about "Eddy" that seemed to be well received.  I put that up on my blog
"Taters, Maters, Words and Water" if anyone would like to read it.

Mary wrote a great piece on her first teaching assignment.  She is really beginning to blossom with her writing

Connie wrote a fun piece ranting about the butchering of "A Christmas Story" and a list of her favorite movies. 

Next week posts by LoRee so bring your funny shoes.  She needs material for her show.

Horse Meat and Ants by stan

The power of the mind is awesome and sometimes strange.

Sometimes it doesn't matter what something really is. What really matters is what your mind perceives it to be.

Take for example the day I got a great buy on ribs. They were 45 cents a pound (remember my name is Old Grizz).  I bought about 20 lbs for the week end cook out. The normal price in those days was around 1.75 per lb so you know I got a great deal,

 But that is where the mind thing comes in.

About the time I got  those ribs half way home I began to wonder why they were so cheap and of course my mind naturally got around to "horse meat". The more I thought about those ribs the more I could see some poor ass horse in a slaughter house and the more my stomach began to churn.

I wasn't about to eat "horse meat" so I threw the ribs out. I knew I would never be able to eat them.

Fast forward to my life in the here and now.

We just paid big bucks to have a new kitchen put in and my wife had to have "granite" counter tops.  She chose the color.  It is dark Brown or black with beige mixed in.

The other night I was fixing a snack on her pretty new counter and I was attacked by ants.  They were everywhere but I didn't even see them when I started the snack.

Seemed like there were millions of the little thugs and I couldn't see them. They blended in with the counter top very nicely. Of course I sprayed and sprayed and washed and washed and sent all their little bodies into the sewer.

Now my problem is this "ants in the mind"...my mind. I see ants every time I go into the kitchen.

My wife has never been so happy. I wash the dam counter at least 3 times every night and twice before my coffee in the morning. I can't get them out of my mind.

God how I wish I was an Aardvark.

the road to hell

One of the most recent fads to hit America is the GPS system.  Everyone has to have one. They do not need one but they have to have one.  They need to keep up with the neighbors. 

I have not felt the need to buy one.  I have figured out how to maneuver through the cities of Los Angeles, New York, San Francisco, Seattle, Salt Lake City, Atlanta and the ugly city of Buffalo, New York.

I accomplished this by having a map and some common sense.

Oh yes, I have been lost and I have hovered  around my destination for long periods of time.  However, I have always felt that the lost and hovering times were my adventures.  I've seen places that I would have never thought of visiting.  I have seen the barrios and the ghettos of several major cities and believe it or not I am glad that I have.  (probably more glad to be alive)

When I am alone, being lost is not a problem.  I just keep searching until I find what I am looking for.
My troubles start when my wife is with me.  She has a lot of trouble controlling the car when I am driving.  That does not stop her from trying. 

She has a habit of telling me where to turn and adds to the problem by using her finger as a turn signal.  I used to get mad as hell but over the years I have learned to accept her directions and not pay attention.

But now  she has acquired a "Droid" phone.  When she acquired the "Droid" she discovered that it has a built in GPS system.  I can thank my techie son for that little tidbit of information.

"Oh goody," she said.  "We will never get lost again."  I just rolled my eyes wondering what I was in for.

It is really ugly.  I mean the whole scenario of my wife and me driving to new destinations is ugly.  At least it is ugly for me.  When we get into the car out comes the "Droid". 

"Turn left", says the "Droid."

"Turn left here," my wife says,  with her finger pointing left as if I don't know which way left is.

The really excruciating thing is the damned "Droid" has to tell me how to get out of my own neighborhood.

Sometimes, just to stir the pot, I will not turn or I will turn the wrong way.  They both start jabbering a mile a minute.  The "Droid" wants me to turn at the first street I come to.  It seems very paranoid that I am going to get lost.

My wife is upset because I "don't listen" and wants me to make a U turn at the next corner. 

If I am lucky we are on a street with miles and miles of no U turn intersections.  Then I can go into the back neighborhoods where even the "Droid" can't find its way out.

I keep my mouth shut and smile inwardly.  A guy has to have some fun.