I am going to see Meredith tomorrow, figuring it will be the last time in a while I will see her, and of course I don't want Grandma to go off without my making contact, hoping she will make the trip smoothly.

Leah mentioned her letters home to mom, and how they reflected a chatty side, not delving into real life. My letters in the same way were superficial, but I can't believe I wrote so many. The ones from college were more like little duty reports, but the ones from Vietnam were interesting, and reflected the really interesting circumstances that I found myself. I suppose we all get more invigorated and interested when the things going on around us are stimulating. I wonder why I often find myself shunning everyday situations that have unpredictable or exciting sides to them, rather than seeking them out, since it gives me such pleasure when I get there?

1940 was a little before my time in LeRoy, New York, and a little before my time anywhere, but here are two images from the archives:

Heim & McHardy Service Station, 55 Main St. Est. 1931

LeRoy Hardware Co. 12 Main St. Est. 1870

In fiddling with this Talcottville web site and getting interested in the people and history of the town, many interesting things have popped up. One of note is the story of Samuel Huntington, the first president of the United States.


Yes, you heard me. the first president of the United States. Let me tell you . . . .The rest . . . of the story.

Blackie Huntington , who lived in Talcottville in the 1930's I think, was a contractor, a house builder and apparently an all around "I can do it" guy who could do anything he set out to. He built several sturdy and lasting houses in the area that I know of. Anyhow, Blackie had two daughters, one is 79 year old Jean Monaghan, whom we know, and her late sister, who is the mother of Jennifer, a lawyer friend here in town. So much for the present.

Up the family tree, Blackie's father or grandfather,(not sure) was the brother of my subject character, Samuel Huntingon, of Windham CT., the first president . yadda yadda yadda. Samuel Huntington had no children, but he had many siblings.most of them had children. I bet the genealogy books are quite thick.

Samuel Huntington was a politician and an aristocrat, but he had come from modest beginnings on a rural farm as a boy. He was Governor of Connecticut something like 10 times, and was involved in the early colonial efforts to get free of English rule, back when the Boston Tea Party was going on an all that. On July 4, 1776, he was one of Connecticut's signers of the Declaration of Independence. The esteem with which he was held by Congress was evidenced by his election in 1779 to the first of two terms as president of the Continental Congress.

He proponents argue:.
1. He negotiated the signing of The Articles of Confederation,
2. While he was president of the Continental Congress in 1781, the Articles of Confederation went into effect
3. This was the first official time the words "these United States" appears in print.

Therefore, he was, technically, the first president of The United States.

Do you buy that?

Gordon got married July 20.
Gordon seems to be turning things around (I say tentatively and hopefully).
It's tough, but they both are working hard to make things work.
Sherry is great and has two cute boys that get along amazingly well with Gordon, too.
After 1200 or so miles, we're back home.
And miles to go before we sleep.

Martha and I just participated in the wedding of my friend Mike. I met mike in a computer class the first year I was here. He was then a 40+ bachelor, maybe even resigned to stay that way for a while. Mike is a great guy, and his friendship has meant a lot to me. In the last year miracles did happen. He met a girl (quite by chance) from Florida, visiting in his neighborhood. She had been a childhood friend of his until about 12 years old, then moved away, and was just back there looking at her old house. She also is a great girl. They hit it off, each made several trips and endless phone calls back and forth from and to Florida, then she moved here, and the rest is history.

It was a Catholic church wedding in a quite plain church, but the priest, out of retirement for this, was such a pleasant and fetching man, it was a wonderful rehearsal and wedding service. We were both in the wedding party, tuxed and dolled up for the first time in a while, and I'm biased, but we looked pretty good, and weren't the oldest nor the oldest looking. Mike is the embodiment of Felix in the odd couple in his neatnik behavior. He used to photograph weddings himself, and had been active in planning this thing. He produced the CD's of mp3's (napster style) for the reception, planning the timing down to the minute. He had printed instructions to the photographer, the caterer, and others. My best picture of the whole day, I think, that will be funnier to others than to him, was when we were rushing, getting in the car at his house to go to the church, at the last minute, he had to delay one more time to empty the tiny bit of trash in the kitchen basket, and put in a new plastic liner, of course.

Felix

Mike and Mona - (women in back corner were great singers - reminded me of Leah's voice)

Here's Martha in a silly picture of girls and mike

I cleverly got no pictures of myself.

Below I linked to some pictures of things, not people. Just to show you I do have a people side, here are 15 of my favorite people pictures, not all taken by me. I know the family has seen most of these, but the things didn't complain, so I hope the people are as forgiving.

http://members.localnet.com/~rgb2000/log/people/page_03.htm

I have always gravitatied to taking pictures of things,
not people. Martha would come back from a family thing and would have pictures
of the relatives, and I would have pictures of the trees or something. So naturally
in my few years of taking digital pictures, I have leaned the same way. I put
a link here to some of my pictures I have taken of designs and scenes that just
sort of yelled to me to take the shot. I should have ignored the call in many
cases, but I keep thinking I will do something with the images. Well here are
two pages of them, but PLEASE don't waste the time to look at all of them, just
let the thumbnails load, then laugh with me or at me at some of the pictures
I thought were worth taking .http://members.localnet.com/~rgb2000/log/page_01.htm

 

I am starting a website for our community group, Historic Talcottville Association that is more interesting so far for the residents, since I got started when I took pictures of the whole town to help with our Historic District designation. If you want to check it out, it is www.talcottville.org.

Roger Miller once had an album called "Sorry I Haven't Written for so Long" (or something like that), when he had been silent in songwriting for quite a few years. Well, I feel like I should say,"Sorry I haven't blogged for so long"

To make up for it, I bring you the latest hot news. I swear this came right off the AP wire! No kidding. Well, yes, kidding, but no kidding . . . oh, you know what I mean.

---

Saturday, June 15, 2002
Buddhist Funeral Rites Held for Ape

BANGKOK, Thailand (AP) - They flocked to his extravagant wedding, avidly followed his spicy love life and on Saturday came to bid farewell to Mike, Thailand's celebrity ape.

Thai fans by the hundreds arrived to take part in Buddhist funeral rites for the gentle orangutan who died Thursday at the age of 17 of complications from water in the lungs.

He is to be buried Sunday beneath his own statue in the Sa Kaew Zoo at Lopburi, 70 miles north of Bangkok, where he and his family were the star attractions for years.

``Mike has helped the province's economy a great deal. He attracted millions of baht (hundreds of thousands of dollars) and created lots of jobs for local residents. This is the best we can do for him to ensure his happy life after death,'' said Yongyuth Kitwatananuson, a local businessman who has promoted Lopburi as a haven for free-roaming monkeys.

Buddhist chants and a bathing ceremony, in which holy water is poured over the hands of the deceased, are to be held in the zoo.

Mike's wife Susu and offspring Lamyai will be present at the funeral, wearing black outfits provided by the zoo staff.

Every year, Yongyuth offers the monkeys a feast of their favorite foods laid out on tables. The event is popular with Thai and foreign tourists.

---

An Item I saw on townhall.com got me thinking again:

'Carnivore' at center of FBI email glitch.
Critics of the Carnivore program were vindicated yesterday when the FBI released a memo acknowledging that the Carnivore email wiretapping system was capturing emails of innocent citizens. Washington Post: FBI spokesman John Collingwood said yesterday that the case was a rare mistake that resulted from technical problems encountered by an Internet service provider, not by the FBI.

If you haven't focused on this subject, here it is. For a while, previously without public knowledge, the internet e-mail servers, chat servers, and much trunk traffic on the internet has been silently filtered and harvested by cryptic invasive software by big brother, aptly dubbed Carnivore. This is the way they have routed out predatory pedophiles and child pornographers, etc. certainly a goal that you can't argue with. But at what price to the rest of us? I lose faith in humanity periodically, but really, what percentage of Americans, or internet users, for that matter, are in that class? Just imagine the guy who e-mails his brother, let's say, and innocently types, "Bring the baby when you come to Phoenix, I want to get some photos. I can't wait!" This could light a big alarm at spook central, and he could get an unexpected visit from the FBI! Do we want this? (Honey, come down and bail me out! Don't worry, it was a mistake by the ISP, not the FBI so it's O.K.)

I guess we have to watch out that the institutions that we need to keep us civilized don't become a threat to ourselves.

Thomas Jefferson said: "When the government fears the people, there is liberty. When the people fear the government, there is tyranny."

When we were having so much trouble with Gordon in his teens, There was a point when we feared the social worker whom WE called to help, because they told us they were bound to report us in certain cases (implying that we were child abusers or something). Some help they were. {insert sarcastic emoticon here}

I need some help from the minds of the internet. I bought this thing at a yard sale - they call them tag sales here in CT. I only paid a buck for it, but it was marked " OLD TOOL" I puzzled over it for a while, then told the seller that I give up - please give me a clue. He said he thought he got it from his father, but he wasn't sure what it was! Dern. It is made of wood, clearly hand made for a very specific purpose. It was well-made from a single piece of maple, and the center piece was jigsawed free, and rivited so that it can pivot only an angle a little wider than 90. A spike-like thing is on a beveled surface on the but end, maybe a scribe or a centering point?
Here is my (very) rough sketch and a couple of pictures.

---

You may already have won the $25,000 prize for identifying it, if anyone has offered such a prize. I know I haven't.

Please e-mail me with me any guesses to the origin or use, however far out.

~~~I Gotta Guess~~~

<>--------------------------------------------------------------<>

No one to talk with; all by myself,
No one to walk with, but I'm happy on the shelf.
Ain't Misbehavin', I'm savin' my love for you.

I know for certain, the one I love,
I'm through with flirtin', it's just you I'm thinkin' of.
Ain't Misbehavin', I'm savin' my love for you.

Like Jack Horner, in the corner
Don't go nowhere, what do I care?
Your kisses are worth waitin' for ....
... Believe me ...

I don't stay out late, don't care to go,
I'm home about eight; just me and my radio,
Ain't misbehavin', I'm savin' my love for you!

<>------<> <>--------------------------<>

Do you dare to click here?

<>------<> ~ rgb ~ <>--------------------------<>

Raster is to Vector

as

MP3 is to MIDI.

~ rgb ~

Well, Meredith did it. I was blown away by a post of hers. Crepuscular Garden This one was a gentle story, told is such a way to seem like she was whispering it in my ear. What a concept! Your experience is to absorb and observe and participate to the maximum of your awareness at the time. But night turns silently into day in a secret process each day, whether you are there to take it in or not.

In a way, it is the proof to the age old debate about the tree in the forest on the desert island. Of course the scene is played out . . . at the dawn and in the forest. . It may be played in slo-mo due to your perception of it, or with the backdrop of your sighs or gasps, or all by itself in a natural process, getting along just fine without you, thanks.

I have additional thoughts of her use of the word crepuscular. This takes me back to high school to a friend who was my close friend but nobody knew how deep it went (but that's another story) . Mike had just come back from a special summer science program in Texas, showing me a bunch of fossils he had found there, and telling me all about his great time. I don't know why it stuck with me, but he told me that he had learned this new word crepuscular, that he told me, or I interpreted what he told me to be the look of the sun's rays bursting through the clouds - it was like that in the sky that day - sort of like the Sunday school books showed when god was beaming from the clouds. Years after, I looked up the word, but never found that meaning listed, so I had sort of thought I had remembered it wrong for all that time. But today, when I looked it up from Merry's post, I dug further. Crepuscular itself means 1. of, pertaining to, or resembling twilight; dim; indistinct. 2. Zool.appearing or active in the twilight, as certain bats and insects. But . . . crepuscular RAY was listed as "a twilight ray of sunlight shining through breaks in high clouds and illuminating dust particles in the air". Wow,1963 revisited.


I have to finish the Mike story - hey this is my blog - I can go on an on and on if I want to. Mike was Michael Pridgeon, my classmate who killed himself in a shocking way during senior year. As I said before, I was his close friend, but in a cruel twist of society nonsense, nobody seemed to care or know about that. I was mainly a loner. Mike was basketball star, class president, scholar, in the "in crowd" dated who he pleased, all that crap that evidently didn't matter to him in the end. We had been at the football game the night before, had been in the Marching Band, and we had some disturbing conversations that I can't go into. We talked about doing some harmless mischief, the worst of which was we almost got on the bus to the other school, Victor or somewhere - we didn't care where. We were very close to doing it, even though we would have been in trouble, and the adventure seemed a tempting thing. I kicked myself for not letting him talk me into it, because he shot himself the next morning. Of course I had no idea he would do anything like that, it was not even on my radar screen, as they say, but in retrospect, I know that he was desperate and unhappy, and knew things that would be at least interesting to his parents. Did anyone ask me if I knew anything about Mike? No. Did I even get invited to the funeral? As an afterthought. His big basketball buddies and self-appointed friends all were anointed as pall bearers and all that, and I was in the shadows. Please don't take this as a jealous or self-pity thing. I was then, and am now actually proud of my independence and separation from the mainstream, and it helped my character to be less dependent on the whims of others. But it is a strange thing how things play out, and you can't help but wonder about things that might have been.

RGB

This may not be ready for prime time, but it's strange what goes into these peaches.

If you want to gasp and ooooh and aahhh and cry, check out this image from space at night.

Click here for: Who left the lights on?

~ rgb ~

..

Both of my sisters have started posting on blogs. This is such a neat way to add to our communications. I guess it is a better forum to have open thinking since we are thinking of putting thoughts "out there", not to a specific person. I find it more natural to put posts of interesting stuff, rather than just a text message, but I am trying to do both, and I hope I don't run out of ideas.

I have always thought and observed that people have more ideas and creativity in them than they think they have. Or a better way to say it is that if an ordinary person is put into a think-tank mode, or is challenged by someone else to come up with something, they will do extraordinary things. The creative spot in the brain probably needs a goose every now and then. I suppose really creative people have that switch turned on by default.

I wasn't going to get fancy on this post, but I had to experiment a little.

Here's something that makes me laugh, but I don't know why.

I saw these mentioned on Conan's ( O'brien) show. These are REAL figurines, about the size of GI Joe or something, with Jesus helping kids at sports. There is Jesus Baseball, Jesus Soccer, Jesus Football, basketball, Ballet, Golf, Martial Arts, Hockey, Track, Biking/Rollerblading, Gymnastics, & Skiing. Conan's writers had actually made fake new ones. Now I am sure the intentions of these are fine, but Jesus! The site: http://www.catholicshopper.com/products/inspirational_sport_statues.html

By the way, I saw some old clips of Johnnie Carson the other day, at the award show he refused to do, and remembered how great he was. How did a guy like Conan make it? He would be a funny next door neighbor, but not the caliber of a Carson.

Pun alert, pun alert!

They were sorry the human cannonball at the circus quit because they couldn't find another man of his caliber. (or calibre for you Canadians and British)

My brother sent me a clip of some lyrics from a bluegrass song:
It proves that sometimes a few words are worth a thousand pictures.

The rocking chairs on the old front porch
Move from a sudden wind
It's almost like my Mom and Dad
Are sitting there again
My brother's voice is calling
From his fav'rite climbing tree...
. . .

The Legend of Andrew McCrew

by Don McLean

There was a mummy at the fair,
All crumpled in a folding chair.
The people passed, but didn't care
That the mummy was a man,

so tell me if you can

Chorus:
Who are you? Who are you?
Where have you been, where are you going to?
Well, Andrew McCrew must have lost his way
'Cause though he died long ago he was buried today.

Down on nightmare alley, where the shady people sway
a hobo came a-hikin' on a salty summer day
Well he hopped a freight in Dallas, and he rode out of sight
But on a turn he slipped, and he lost his grip
and he fell in-to the night.

Repeat Chorus

Well, Andrew had one leg of wood, the other leg was small.
And when he fell off the train that night he found he had no legs at all.
Well they found him in the thicket, and the undertaker came.
And they mummified his body for a relative to claim.

Repeat Chorus

But no one came to claim him, until the carnival passed through.
The carnies took him to their tent and they decided what to do.
Well they dressed him in a worn-out tux and they put him on a stand.
And millions saw the legend called the `famous mummy man'.

Repeat Chorus

Well, what a way to live a life and what a way to die.
Left to live a living death with no one left to cry.
Petrified amazement, and wonder beyond words,
A man who found more life in death than life gave him at birth.

Repeat Chorus

But what about the ones who live and wish that they could go.
Whose lives are lost to living and performing for the show.
Well at least you got the best of life until it got the best of you,
So from all of us to what's left of you
Farewell, Andrew McCrew.

Notes:
The song is based on an authentic case. Andrew McCrew toured with the carnival, posthumously, for about 35 years. He was buried in 1973.That was when Don McLean read an article about him and wrote the song. When the song came out, someone stepped forward and donated a headstone on McCrew's previously unmarked grave. The fourth verse of the song is carved on the headstone.