Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2018

Archive for the category “Throwback Thursday”

Throwback Thursday – From June 2015 – “I’m On A Mission From God”

I’m On A Mission From God

square donuts

WELL, NOT REALLY, BUT CLOSE. I was on a mission from my wife.

Last Friday was “National Donut Day.”

We’re talking about the pastry and not the parking lot maneuver done by drunken teenagers with the family car on Saturday night.

There is a fact little known outside of Terre Haute (That’s French for “Can I have some more.”), Indiana, but we produce the best donuts this side of everyplace else.

I’m talking about “Square Donuts” here. Not round. Not triangular, and certainly not Kremed and Krispy. I know that taste is subjective, so after an extensive fact finding mission I can “Objectively” state that I am right.

Anyway…

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Throwback Thursday from June 2015 – “Excuse Me If I Destroy Your World”

 

Excuse Me If I Destroy Your World

Dogs eat carTHIS MORNING AS I WALKED into the Friendly Confines of St. Arbucks for my morning coffee I saw that The Usual Suspects were already deep in prayer, or whatever you want to call all of them talking at once.

When I slid into my pew it became obvious that they were all worked up about the Kroger store – just a Molotov Cocktails throw across the parking lot.

It seems that a number of early shoppers had been parking in the Fire Lane and the Handicapped (Gimp) Parking spots illegally.

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Throwback Thursday from May 2015 – “Baaad, Baaad, LeeRoy Brown”

Throwback Thursday from May 2015 

 

Baaad, Baaad, LeeRoy Brown

manandgoat1WE HAD A VISITOR TO TERRE HAUTE (That’s French for “Care for a donut?”) a few days ago. Actually, it was two visitors – a fellow named Steve Westcott and LeeRoy (His spelling, not mine) Brown, his goat.

Mr. Westcott is from Seattle, undoubtedly heavily caffeinated and trying raise money to help build an orphanage in Kenya. He has the goal of walking all the way to Times Square in New York City. Why he is taking the goat with him remains unclear.

Making these treks across country to raise money for various charitable causes is not new. Taking a goat with you is a unique twist, however.

Mr. Westcott has a webpage about all of this:

http://www.needle2square.com/

He even has a blog running about it, but it looks like he hasn’t added to it for several months. The goat hasn’t said much either.

I looked at a number of his blog entries and my first reaction was, “Who’s crazier, the guy with the goat or the people he meets along the way?”

Blog date: 9/1/2014

Place: Denver, Co.

“Now, as I am walking down 16th Street about five blocks I was surrounded by four motorcycle cops.  No joke!  The first thing they said to me was, “Hey man you were told not to bring your llama down here.”  I said, “I am sorry, I don’t have a llama.” 

“You can’t walk on 16th Street.  You need to go over to 15th Street.”  

Now, I get towards the edge of 15th Street. There is a 7-11 and I want to get myself something to drink.  I tie LeeRoy to a flag pole out front, I come out and there are people all around. This lady comes out of nowhere in a full head to toe peach pant suit. She is yelling, walking up to me screaming about llamas.  She says, “You were told by the police not to bring your llamas down here!”

I start yelling back.  I say, “LADY, IT’S NOT A LLAMA!” I tell her, “I am trying to leave!  You are in my way! I am trying to leave!  It’s not a llama!”  I finally just start yelling, “IT’S NOT A LLAMA, IT’S A GOAT!  IT’S NOT A LLAMA!”

I would have thought that the people of Denver would have a better understanding of what a goat looks like. Obviously not.

Mr. Westcott has reported that he and the goat can cover anywhere from four to twenty miles a day – depending on the attitude of the goat.

What must the goat think of all this? They have been walking for more than two years. LeeRoy has to be wondering about Mr. Westcott’s sanity.

I really do doubt that the goat appreciates the goal of building an orphanage in Kenya. After walking across country for two years I doubt that I would appreciate anything but a hot tub and a cold drink. I know that I would NOT appreciate Mr. Westcott and as far as LeeRoy Brown is concerned – I’ve eaten goat before.

I do wish them both well on their journey. I am concerned that when they get to New York City things might get dicey for LeeRoy. The coyotes that live in Central Park might see Mr. Westcott leading LeeRoy up the street and say to themselves, “I didn’t know that we could get food delivered here.”

Well, Mr. Westcott and LeeRoy – Bon Voyage, bon appetite, and, remember, New York doesn’t want you bringing in any llamas either.

UPDATE

To bring everyone up to date on this saga – I have learned that the goat “LeeRoy” died before they got to New York. The cause of his death wasn’t reported, but I suspect it may have been a suicide.

John

Throwback Thursday from May 2015 – “The Cake That Wouldn’t Die”

Throwback Thursday from May 2015 

The Cake That Wouldn’t Die

Circus cake

IF YOU RECALL, about two weeks ago there was a posting here called

“Now THAT Was A Surprise Party”

https://johnkraft.wordpress.com/2015/05/09/now-that-was-a-surprise-party/

It all had to do with an effort to do something nice for someone. We should have known better.

For Newcomers and Amnesiacs I will give a brief reminder of the circumstances.

One of the baristas at our local Chapel of St. Arbucks was leaving to go be a circus performer – flying on the high trapeze to be exact. A few of us regulars here (AKA “The Usual Suspects”) decided it would be nice get her a cake for her last day on the job. One Suspect volunteered to assume the task of getting the cake from the nearby Kroger’s Supermarket. This is where it all began to fall apart.

He ordered a cake that was to be decorated with little plastic figures giving it a circus motif. He was to pick it up at 7:30 AM and bring it to the party.

At 7:30 AM he went to the Kroger’s and they told him it wasn’t going to be ready until 7:30 PM. Major Snafu. He showed them the receipt saying clearly “7:30 AM.” They panicked and told him to come back in 30 minutes.

Snafu Number Two

When I arrived at St. Arbucks I was informed that the young lady had decided to blow off her last day on the job. No cake, now no Guest of Honor.

Great. Just great.

Fast forward a few days. Kroger calls our Cake Orderer and says, “Come get your cake, Bucko!” He goes to the store and a confrontation ensues that results in the Bakery Manager chewing out the clerk, the clerk being upset, and Kroger tearing up our bill for the cake. Now the circus cake is THEIR PROBLEM.

Jump ahead to this past Wednesday when our innocent Cake Orderer goes into the Kroger to do his shopping. As he walks past the Bakery counter he clearly hears the same chewed out clerk tell a fellow clerk, “There’s that guy.”

He is now officially, “That guy.”

Unable to resist the chance to throw kerosene on a fire I went into the store yesterday afternoon. I browsed the cakes on display. The aforementioned clerk asks if she can be of assistance.

“Yes, thank you. Do you have any cakes with a circus theme?”

Her back got stiff and her eyes got skinny.

“Who is this for?” she asked.

I gave her a cock and bull story about a coworker leaving. It made no sense, but it seemed to satisfy her.

“”Well, we had a circus cake last week, but not anymore.”

“Can you make another one for me?”

“No.”

I didn’t push the issue. I never argue with someone who is skilled in using kitchen knives.

Last night our original Cake Orderer went back into the store. He spoke with someone else at the Bakery who gave him a behind the scenes glimpse at what had gone down.

It seems that this cake fiasco caused quite a furor inside their little frosting covered world. There is bad blood behind the counter now. I advised my fellow Suspect to do his shopping elsewhere.

All we wanted to do was to have a little going away party for a nice young lady who likes to hang upside down thirty feet in the air and who can make a good cup of coffee. What was wrong with that?

I guess this goes to prove that no good deed goes unpunished.

Throwback Thursday from May 2015 – “I’ve Never Had That Happen – Exactly”

Throwback Thursday from May 2015 

 

I’ve Never Had That Happen – Exactly

PerkinsLAST NIGHT, MY WIFE, the charming and lovely Dawn, and I were watching a show on Netflix where the two main characters in the story were thrown out of a bar. Dawn turned to me and asked, “Have you ever been thrown out of a bar?”

I quickly thought back over the decades of my life and answered her truthfully, “A bar? No, I’ve never been thrown out of a bar – exactly.”

That answer did, as you might expect, elicit a call for my definition of the word “Exactly” in this context.

Have I ever been thrown out of a bar? No.

Have I ever been asked to consider my continued presence an unsafe extension of privilege? Yes.

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Throwback Thursday from May 2015 – “Remember – You Called Me”

Throwback Thursday from May 2015  

 

Remember – You Called Me

Not againWE HAVE PUT our home phone number on those “No-Call” lists for years, but it doesn’t seem to work. We still get several calls a week from organizations begging for money, “Canadian pharmacies” selling pills, and a variety of computer scams both foreign and domestic.  Since they called me I consider them fair game for a little verbal knee to the groin retaliation.

Here are a few of my favorite ways to yank their telephonic chains. Feel free to use any of them or simply use them as inspiration to create your own.

Let The Games Begin!!

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Throwback Thursday from May 2015 – “Walk A Mile In Her…Nevermind”

Throwback Thursday from May 2015

 

Walk A Mile In Her…Nevermind

BET AWARDS '14 - Show

ONE OF THOSE TRULY GREAT MOMENTS in Television history happened the other day.

On “The Price is Right” game show with Drew Carey a contestant won a prize that, chances are, she will not be using.

About ten years ago Ms. Danielle Perez was in an accident and lost both legs. She has used a wheelchair since then and has continued on with her life.

When she attended the taping of the game show she was selected to be a contestant. If you look at the video at this link http://www.thewrap.com/the-price-is-right-awards-a-treadmill-to-a-wheelchair-bound-contestant-video/  you will see that she played the game and won! Her prizes were a sauna and a treadmill.

Immediately a large “hoo-haw” about this erupted on the internet, calling it a “Cringing moment,”  “Embarrassing,” and similar comments.

Cringing for whom? Embarrassing for whom? It wasn’t either for Ms. Perez. She seemed quite happy about it all.

Those “Cringing moment” comments come from those people who look at Ms. Perez and see only a wheelchair. They are “Embarrassed” for her. They think that Ms. Perez is the disability, not someone with a disability.

The Politically Correct Vultures began to circle overhead immediately making demands on the game show producers to give Ms. Perez special treatment. They demand that she be offered the value of the prize in cash, even though that is not a standard practice.

The “PC’ers” are “Outraged” about this whole thing, but they are always “Outraged” at everything. Some people collect stamps for a hobby, the PC’ers get “Outraged.”

I’ve read several stories about Ms. Perez and her new treadmill. She is a woman who has her head screwed on quite nicely. She thinks the whole thing is funny.

IT IS FUNNY!

Because Ms.Perez is not fitting into the PC Bigots stereotype I would expect that they will shortly turn on her and begin to call her names.

As you may have picked up by now: this posting is not so much about Ms. Perez and her new treadmill as it is about the twisted world of Political Correctness.

The acolytes on the PC altar pretend that they care more about people’s feelings than the rest of us. I suppose that in a way they do. Of course they care because they want to control how people feel and behave. For them it is all about power and control. PC is a weapon to be used to force their perceived enemies (anyone who isn’t them) to conform and act as they demand.

They are nothing more than the schoolyard bullies who want to dictate how you must live and think.

And if you don’t think they are in it to see what money they can extort, you are very much mistaken. It’s a Con Game.

Ms Perez ain’t buying into it. She is a thinking adult who refuses to be used as a crowbar to intimidate the PC’ers latest target.

Someone asked me, “What is she supposed to do with a treadmill?”

The basic answer is, of course, “Whatever she damn well pleases.”

She can refuse the prize. All prize winning contestants can do that.

She can take the treadmill and give it to a friend or family member.

She can sell the darned thing on Ebay if she wants.

She can donate the treadmill to the charity of her choice and get one very nice tax deduction because it would be valued at what the game show said – Manufacturer’s Suggested Retail Price – which is usually higher than what it could be purchased for in a store.

Ms. Perez is going to do quite nicely, thank you.

I’m sorry if I come across as a bit caustic about this but I have had to deal with these idiots all my life. If it’s too much, don’t worry. You’ll get over it.

If you are “Outraged” – all I can say is

Bite Me.

***

Please tune in tomorrow for another chapter in our continuing soap opera, “Down The Hall On Your Left” brought to you by a couple cups of coffee and an attitude.

Throwback Thursday from April 2015 – “You Are Not Pizza”

Throwback Thursday from April 2015

 

You Are Not Pizza

 

 

 

Pizza you are not

I WENT TO SEE MY NUTRITIONIST yesterday morning. His task is to help me to change my eating habits, thereby losing weight, thereby lowering my blood pressure, thereby continuing to be alive.

So far so good.

According to him I have lost four pounds since my last visit – and I did so without amputating any body parts or pretending I was a prisoner in a Northern Ireland jail. I have tried to alter my food choices – that means cutting back on pizza and eating more fruits and veggies.

I can do that.

He told me that if I can lose seven more pounds I will officially move from being considered “Obese” into a category labeled “Overweight.” He said the difference is that as an “Overweight” category resident it becomes conjecture about whether my excess weight is fat or muscle. I assured him that it isn’t muscle and hasn’t been for about forty years. After he stopped giggling he gave me that seven pound weight loss as a goal for our next appointment which is set for late July. In essence, he has given me the go-ahead to stay alive for another three months.

I’m jiggy with it.

I didn’t use that phrase with him. Not only is it about ten years passé, but he is also from India and I doubt that he was a “Fresh Prince” fan. With him I just mumbled an “OK.”

Since I started seeing him I have lost about 45 pounds. At first it was easy – “at first” lasting about three weeks. After that it became more difficult. At one point I considered having all of my internal organs removed. My wife discouraged me from doing that saying that “Zsa Zsa Gabor did that and look what happened to her.” I haven’t been able to discover what actually did happen to her, but it probably wasn’t good from the sound of it.

Instead I have lost the weight the old fashioned way: eating lots of fruits and veggies and implementing “Portion Control.” I can now spot a 3 oz. piece of chicken from across the room. I’ve always used potion control but just with different parameters that my Nutritionist has in mind. In one frame of reference half of a large pepperoni pizza is portion control. In a different frame it is – Oh, how shall I say it – NOT!

You can’t make everyone happy.

He asked me the same question my other doctors have asked me lately: “What are you doing for exercise?”

I gave him the same answer I’ve given them: “I stumble.”

You see, when I walk, I honestly have no idea what my left leg is going to do. There have been times when I want to go straight ahead, but my left leg decides on its own to go left. Why? I don’t know. It’s just being rebellious perhaps. Or it does those wacky things in retribution for two early childhood surgeries on the leg. Or maybe it just saw something more interesting off to the left. So, when I walk I do so carefully. Not too fast, not with steps larger than the distance I am prepared to fall face first into the pavement.

I honestly think, along with my wife, the Wonderful and Understanding Rev. Dawn, that I get most of my exercise pushing the shopping cart up and down the aisles at the Kroger store. I can put in some mileage there depending on how long the shopping list is that day. And the cart offers support and something to hold onto in case “Lefty” decides to wander off.

Ergo!

I chalk up yesterday’s trip to see the Nutritionist a success. He was happy. I was happy. My wife was happy. And remember:

You can’t make everyone happy. You are not pizza.

Throwback Thursday from April 2015 – “Support Your Local Kool-Aid Stand”

Throwback Thursday from April 2015

Support Your Local Kool-Aid Stand

kool_aid_stand

The other day the temperature got into the 70s and I was actually able to go out wearing one of my Hawaiian shirts (Wal-Mart Wonders) without feeling cold or having people stare. They do that anyway, but we’ll save that for another day.

The warm air made me think of my youth. By youth I mean age six to twelve or so – those years when you do stuff just because it is fun and not because you think it will fool your parents.

I grew up in a small steel mill town near Pittsburgh. Back then there were five mills operating. We lived two blocks away from one of them.

Every summer my brother Jimmy and I would try to come up with some way to earn some money to cover our vital needs (Candy, Baseball Cards, Soft Drinks – aka “Pop,” and miscellaneous inexpensive toys).

One scheme we used almost every summer was the Sidewalk Kool-Aid Stand. Our house was situated at the top of a hill, a two block walk up from the steel mill. The workers would finish their shift, walk uphill, and encounter our oasis of ice cold Kool-Aid. What a racket we had going there. It was like shooting fish in a barrel. These guys were dead tired and we were there with cold drinks that had enough sugar in them to kill a diabetic.

“Ten cents a glass! Get your ice cold Kool-Aid right here!”

We did alright with that little enterprise. Our secret weapon to increase the profit margin was to look innocent and pretend that we couldn’t make change for anything above a Quarter.

“Aw, keep the change, kids.”

That Kool-Aid stand was our tried and true operation for several summers, but it was not the only thing we had going. Not by a long shot.

Just up the block was what would today be called a “Senior Citizen Community.” We called it an, “Old Folks Home.” On those hot and sultry summer days their front porch would be packed with people trying to cool off. I saw them as an opportunity.

We didn’t make Kool-Aid deliveries, so we came up with another business plan.

What do hot, sweating people want -To not be hot and sweating, of course? A quick trip uptown to the store that sold Art supplies, back to our big dining room table, and presto!

“Don’t Sweat – Get Cool! Get your own personal, handmade fans, right here! Only ten cents!”

Just about everything we sold was “ten cents,” and, of course, we had that same problem making change.

The fans were made from heavy duty construction paper and really did work quite well. The Old Folks cooled off and we had enough cash to buy some cheap balsa wood airplanes to throw around until they either crashed and broke or got run over by one of the steel hauler trucks that drove past the house every day.

I also tried selling newspapers to the Old Folks, but that fell apart once they realized I was selling them yesterday’s papers.

Not every idea can be a winner.

These businesses faded away as I got older and started spending my money on things like girls and Aqua Velva. When you are eight years old and kinda cute you can get away with things that just don’t work when you look like you need a shave.

Throwback Thursday from April 2015 – “In An Effort To Be Fair.”

Throwback Thursday from April 2015 – “In An Effort To Be Fair.”

In An Effort To Be Fair

Ridgeback

I’VE BEEN CATCHING SOME FLAK about a recent posting where I spoke about the hairstyle of the female baristas at St. Arbucks. I can handle the flak – I’m used to it.

Someone said to me, “Why do you even care about how they wear their hair?”

Caring is not a factor here. It is something I see in front of me and, having the gift of sight, I can see it. There are many things I see that I do not blog about – the lack of good manners by the person who criticized me about this, for example. See – I’m being nice about it, right?

But, to butter the other side of this slice of life, I will now comment about male hairstyles – specifically the hairstyle I noticed on the head of a fellow who came into the Chapel at St. Arbucks this morning.

I’ve seen this particular style on others before and my first thought was, “I wonder if they meant that to happen?”

Imagine if you will, a teeny-tiny crest of a wave, frozen in time on the middle of a human head. Going from front to back on the skull it appears that all of the longer hairs have been pushed toward the center – a continental divide, if you will. And there it sits, like a median strip between lobes.

I’m sure that some sort of “product” is used to keep all of the hairs going in the desired directions. Gel, perhaps, or hairspray, or Qwik-Crete. It’s not going to lie down like that on its own. Human intervention is required. Kind of like laboratory cloning those rabbits that glow in the dark (look it up).

As this fellow with the small tsunami on his head moved around the Chapel one other comparative image came to mind. Have you ever seen a breed of dogs known as Rhodesian Ridgebacks? That is them in the above picture. They are an African hunting dog that, through a genetic crapshoot, has a dense hairy ridge running down its back. It serves no function, does no harm, and causes no discomfort. It’s just there. See it? Like this dude’s hair or the female barista’s “do’s.”

I’m not saying any of this in a way to imply that I disapprove of this guy’s head. It is his head, he can do with it as he sees fit, as long as he doesn’t scare the horses or foul the footpath. Lord knows, I have seen people eyeballing me with quizzical looks on their faces. I just choose to interpret their gaze as admiration and awe, not pity or bemusement.

There. I have engaged in gender equality. Nobody got hurt. The economy didn’t crash, and cats and dogs are not lying down together.

Not even the Rhodesian Ridgebacks of the world.

Throwback Thursday From March of 2015 – “Reality! What A Concept.”

mr_t

Throwback Thursday From March of 2015 –

“Reality! What A Concept.”

I heard something on TV last night that, at first, I thought was a gag, but after a minute or so, I realized was for real.

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Throwback Thursday From March Of 2015 – “Congratulations, You’re Still Alive!”

Doctor visit

Throwback Thursday From March Of 2015 – “Congratulations, You’re Still Alive!”

I WENT TO SEE MY DOCTOR this morning. I see him about every three months. He likes to keep tabs on me because of my high blood pressure and the veritable buffet of meds that I take.

The last time I saw him my BP was 120/60 – which is pretty darn near perfect for a human being. This morning it was 110/60 – a tad low. Compared to what it was a few years ago when I first went to see him, he is happy. Back then it was something like 180/170 – not bad if you are a cheetah chasing down a springbok, after having had a half dozen espressos and a pound of licorice.

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Throwback Thursday From 2015 “One Person’s Trivia Is Another Person’s McRib”

Throwback Thursday From 2015

“One Person’s Trivia Is Another Person’s McRib”

SOMETIMES THERE IS A BENEFIT when the conversation takes a turn to something boring. This morning over coffee one of the Usual Suspects started to talk politics. My brain glazed over and my eyes began to wander. It was then that I saw a teeny-tiny online mention of no import.

“McDonald’s opens restaurant in 120th country.”

Sonovagun. I never would have guessed it was that many.

While voices muffled by politics faded in the background I read on.

The newest nation to allow Ronald the Clown to cross their borders is – (Fanfare!)

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Throwback Thursday From March 2015 – “I Have A Question”

From March 2015

I Have A Question

 

mushroom-cloud

 

I HAVE NOTICED SOMETHING in the last few months that, while not disturbing or earthshaking, I do find curious.

I am about to tread on dangerous ground here.

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Throwback Thursday From Feb. 2015 – “Stop The Freakin’ Presses!!”

monk mummy 2

Throwback Thursday From Feb. 2015 – “Stop The Freakin’ Presses!!”

“THE AMAZINGLY INTACT REMAINS of a meditating monk have been discovered in the Songinokhairkhan province of Mongolia, according to a report in Mongolia’s Morning News.”

I can’t speak for anyone else, but when I want news from Songinokhairkhan province, I turn to the Mongolia’s Morning News.

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Throwback Thursday From Feb. 2015 – “But Wait! There’s More!”

As Seen on TV 2

Throwback Thursday From Feb. 2015 – “But Wait! There’s More!”

IS IT ALMOST CHRISTMAS AGAIN?”

It must be because our mailbox is crammed with catalogs every day. Catalogs from places we’ve never heard of are arriving at a dizzying pace and almost all of them go straight into the recycle bin.

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Throwback Thursday From Feb. 2015 – “And The Award Goes To…”

darwin_awards

Throwback Thursday From Feb. 2015 – “And The Award Goes To…”

I WAS JUST RANDOMLY TIPTOEING through the Internet the other day when I came across a news item that made me stop.

Police say a 55-year-old southwestern Michigan woman who died after accidentally shooting herself in the head in January was adjusting a handgun in her bra holster at the time.”

I’m familiar with the practice of carrying a concealed weapon, but I would think that you would want the gun to be easily accessible. But, then again, I wasn’t there to see just how accessible things were with her. I’m glad I wasn’t there. I would have called the 911 emergency line, but I think I might have had trouble explaining what happened.

Read more…

Throwback Thursday From Feb. 2015 – “People are SO Suspicious”

squinting jack-elam

Throwback Thursday From Feb. 2015 – “People are SO Suspicious”

 

 

 

I’VE BEEN WORKING on a sequel of a novel I wrote a couple years ago and I’m trying to gather some technical information about cell phones to use as a plot device. You’d think I was asking for info on how to construct my own H-bomb.

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Throwback Thursday from 2016 – “Flying To Texas Can Be Fun”

 

Throwback Thursday from 2016 – “Flying To Texas Can Be Fun”

monorail catA LONG TIME AGO in a galaxy far, far away I grew up in Western Pennsylvania on the edges of Pennsylvania Dutch Country. Most people refer to them as the Amish. That is an oversimplification of course. There are a large variety of “Amish” communities and sects – each with their own set of rules.

The date of the community’s founding determines some of the rules. Many will not use a technology that came about after the founding date. That is why some groups will not use motorized vehicles while other will. Some will use telephones, others will not.

Last week while we flew to Texas I saw something new. Passing through the Indianapolis airport I saw an Amish family heading toward baggage claim. This was the first time I had heard of Amish flying. “Must be a new community.”

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Throwback Thursday from Jan. 2016 – “I’m Not As Dumb As Some People”

 

Throwback Thursday from Jan. 2016 – “I’m Not As Dumb As Some People”

 

MY BRAIN IS UP ON BLOCKS. The weather is dreary – rain with a promise of Arctic temperatures by Sunday, and it is still a month before Baseball Spring Training begins. Everything is gray. Even my Green Tea looks dusty.

About the only thing going on around town this week is that three Jiffy Mart gas stations have been robbed. Two on one evening – ten minutes apart, and the third one got knocked over last night.

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