tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30773866561878885812024-03-19T03:16:55.935-04:00fromtheeditrAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.comBlogger3420125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-23700243466382695912017-03-08T12:36:00.002-05:002017-05-18T16:45:00.877-04:00This Blog Has Moved to fromtheeditr.comAs of today, this blog will move down the street to WordPress because this one has been hacked and robbed of all posts in 2016 and 2015 (more than 1,200) with no solution available to retrieve them.<br />
<br />
My strong suspicion is that a former friend who had access to the blog erased the two years of posts in an act of spite and anger. I forgive her, but will admit the loss is painful--especially the posts that dealt with my young friend Sarabeth Hammond, who died in late December, and posts dealing with my grandkids. I have managed to retrieve many of them, thanks to another good friend, Arnette Crocker, bless her heart.<br />
<br />
I now have a website, <a href="http://fromtheeditr.com/">fromtheeditr.com</a>, that is host for the same blog as this, though it has a different look. Content will not change; I'll still write pretty much what I want and shoot a lot of photos. Those of you who like this blog will like the new one. And those who don't ... well, go somewhere else. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-8818779595888746852017-03-06T08:48:00.002-05:002017-03-06T10:38:39.857-05:00Don't Look Back in Regret: Get Busy!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxNIA4lLQBphzb3_GJu0NmRnVsCPJVMc-tn2_wEg8qQ0cVMK6FYMGEMUzMUiVGIDchhHp1Njq1k8FIyaM1JRiUpDEqZUpHR6Izny-p1-FRSz1B77tO5TDVCSqoaSZ5FKgHl1KQ0X1gYERB/s1600/take+chances.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxNIA4lLQBphzb3_GJu0NmRnVsCPJVMc-tn2_wEg8qQ0cVMK6FYMGEMUzMUiVGIDchhHp1Njq1k8FIyaM1JRiUpDEqZUpHR6Izny-p1-FRSz1B77tO5TDVCSqoaSZ5FKgHl1KQ0X1gYERB/s400/take+chances.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No. 6: Being scared to do things.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Facebook friend Sonya Chappelear posted a longer version of the following (<a href="http://educateinspirechange.org/inspirational/top-37-things-youll-regret-youre-old/" target="_blank">here</a>) this morning and I liked it, so I thought I'd run it by you in its basic form (without the running commentary; you can provide your own).<br />
<br />
It's 37 things you could regret in old age, unless you do them and it's good advice for anybody. You can rearrange the numbers to reflect your particular values (I would put No. 37 first, for example).<br />
<br />
1. Not traveling when you had the chance.<br />
2. Not learning another language.<br />
3. Staying in a bad relationship.<br />
4. Forgoing sunscreen.<br />
5. Missing the chance to see your favorite musicians.<br />
6. Being scared to do things.<br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="aswift_1_anchor"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="aswift_1_expand"></a>7.
Failing to make physical fitness a priority.<br />
8. Letting yourself be defined by gender roles.<br />
9. Not quitting a terrible job.<br />
10. Not trying harder in school.<br />
11. Not realizing how beautiful you were.<br />
12. Being afraid to say “I love you.”<br />
13. Not listening to your parents' advice.<br />
14. Spending your youth self-absorbed.<br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="aswift_2_anchor"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="aswift_2_expand"></a>15.
Caring too much about what other people think.<br />
16. Supporting others’ dreams over your own.<br />
18. Holding grudges, especially with those you love.<br />
19. Not standing up for yourself.<br />
20. Not volunteering enough.<br />
21. Neglecting your teeth.<br />
22. Missing the chance to ask your grandparents questions
before they die.<br />
23. Working too much.<br />
24. Not learning how to cook one awesome meal.<br />
25. Not stopping enough to appreciate the moment.<br />
26. Failing to finish what you start.<br />
27. Never mastering one awesome party trick.<br />
28. Letting yourself be defined by cultural expectations.<br />
29. Refusing to let friendships run their course.<br />
30. Not playing with your kids enough.<br />
31. Never taking a big risk (especially in love).<br />
32. Not taking the time to develop contacts and network.<br />
<b><span style="font-weight: normal;">33. Worrying too much.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-weight: normal;">34. Getting caught up in
needless drama</span></b><span style="font-weight: normal;">.</span><br />
<b><span style="font-weight: normal;">35. Not spending enough
time with loved ones.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-weight: normal;">36. Never performing in
front of others.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-weight: normal;">37. Not being grateful
sooner.</span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(Photo: theodysseyonline.com)</b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-59476274396586627562017-03-05T07:02:00.001-05:002017-03-05T07:02:28.476-05:00Another Year of My Blog Is ErasedYou will note that this is my first blog post since Dec. 31, 2014, although that is far from true. I wrote well over 1,000 posts in the time since then, but every post from Jan. 1, 2015 until yesterday is gone and there simply is no way to retrieve them.<br />
<br />
That, for me, is like losing a detailed journal of my life and Blogger, which hosts this blog, is completely unresponsive to queries or complaints. It offers no explanation and no way to replace the lost blog posts. I expect my entire 8.5 years of posts will soon be lost. That's well over 4,500 blog posts, millions of words, thousands of photos all gone.<br />
<br />
I have made the mistake of using this blog as an archive, one I will not continue to make. I will now set up a website, one I can control and one whose administrator will be a good friend who has web abilities (and a business doing it).<br />
<br />
Don't trust Blogger. It will break your heart.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-47465801309399245272014-12-31T16:11:00.000-05:002014-12-31T16:11:01.832-05:00Lunch with the Girls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTxz5Nvf22O5V_m3OUdacB9WgrfMVxoX41qlxdF-E_cndstmj5qztTPY_2UffoLgpKS_tnrkIQ1NzPXeanLKzLX3NIv-nKULHK5_rmJE20-Duf5hP7dd9bY7ZKBDeA7MAjvALpZ7NOg4/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgTxz5Nvf22O5V_m3OUdacB9WgrfMVxoX41qlxdF-E_cndstmj5qztTPY_2UffoLgpKS_tnrkIQ1NzPXeanLKzLX3NIv-nKULHK5_rmJE20-Duf5hP7dd9bY7ZKBDeA7MAjvALpZ7NOg4/s1600/1.jpg" height="390" width="400" /></a></div>
I had lunch and a photo shoot with my girls today at the Hotel Roanoke. That's Leah at the left with her niece Ann next to me and Ann's daughter Emily, who is about 14. Got some good pix. Hotel's a fine place to shoot. Food was right tasty in the Regency Room, too. Thanx, Leah. (You'll note that I dressed up.)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-71910570394199548952014-12-31T09:26:00.000-05:002014-12-31T09:26:50.534-05:00Tenacious Boots with Crud Protection<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPp_u3-BVI24JLh0IsQDICZh9oVaMDp5hy6P0jbBISiXfNC-gq-eFdmCx1rqH9Mjnr507cGD1cMSU8Gl8HGzt_RJb87khIdDIJ4_gGaSnJzQIODuCmDJh7fPtWkJ3X-RF1iD54VpCrhjI/s1600/boots.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPp_u3-BVI24JLh0IsQDICZh9oVaMDp5hy6P0jbBISiXfNC-gq-eFdmCx1rqH9Mjnr507cGD1cMSU8Gl8HGzt_RJb87khIdDIJ4_gGaSnJzQIODuCmDJh7fPtWkJ3X-RF1iD54VpCrhjI/s1600/boots.jpg" height="244" width="320" /></a>I just placed an order for what I hope will be the best hiking boots I've ever had. And maybe the last I'll ever need. They are Bergamo boots made in Italy for Hi-Tec and the retail price on them is $400. I paid $149 on a close-out.<br />
<br />
These are heavy-duty, waterproof boots that will be great for the feet winter and summer, on a greenway trail or a mountainside.<br />
<br />
I love this passage from the marketing material: "Built with a trail-dominating mix of agility, tenacity and unyielding
protection from the kind of crud lesser boots would succumb to." Hmmm. Tenacious boots with crud protection. Who'd-a thunk it? <br />
<br />
I had a pair of top-end Asolos a number of years ago and they were the best of mine until this point. The Asolos lasted 20 years with heavy use and they never wore out. I lost them in a move. Since then, I've mostly had second or third line boots or shoes because my knee became so dysfunctional that great shoes didn't make much difference to a guy who couldn't hike the way I used to. <br />
<br />
I got the knee replaced two years ago and the hiking has returned to me full scale in the past year, so the new boots are more a defensive mechanism than a luxury item. I've stubbed my toe and bruised the bottoms of my feet in recent hikes because my shoes weren't up to the trail. These Bergamos, I suspect, will be.<br />
<br />
My dad, who cooked for a living, once told me that "anybody with a good knife can cook." I suspect that applies equally to hiking and shoes.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-60568606910903654932014-12-28T13:06:00.002-05:002014-12-28T13:06:47.847-05:00The Devaluing of the Written Word<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwwxK1nlV-lYWZG3H9ei5TzxYBrmRp5c49uKKXhdN-Wr2OEoVGxt_fI5dODZdSMeKIaR66teCxzmewWIuiD2T73rsyXDDdn7o1TzWwDvfhAF8maRYjP8qK_-fNcmwFNS4DAMY03YbxnE/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwwxK1nlV-lYWZG3H9ei5TzxYBrmRp5c49uKKXhdN-Wr2OEoVGxt_fI5dODZdSMeKIaR66teCxzmewWIuiD2T73rsyXDDdn7o1TzWwDvfhAF8maRYjP8qK_-fNcmwFNS4DAMY03YbxnE/s1600/2.jpg" height="295" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shakespeare and Company bookstore in Paris: A dying breed?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i>"... the world has more stories than it needs or wants to pay for. In 2010,
Amazon had 600,000 e-books in its Kindle store. Today it has more than
three million. The number of books on Smashwords, which distributes
self-published writers, grew 20 percent last year. The number of free
books rose by one-third."</i><br />
<br />
That comes from a New York Times story today by Dan Streitfeld (<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/28/technology/amazon-offers-all-you-can-eat-books-authors-turn-up-noses.html?emc=edit_th_20141228&nl=todaysheadlines&nlid=66957502" target="_blank">here</a>) on the massive increase in the number of published books in the United States. The upside is that writers are getting their works circulated. The underbelly is that those same writers are seeing their earnings potential for their written work crash. Writers who have quit day jobs to assume full-time writing careers are hurrying back to the classroom or the office or the food stamp facility.<br />
<br />
At the center of the story--as usual--is amazon.com. This time it's Kindle Unlimited, which has dramatically increased the number of books available, while decreasing author royalties in an equally dramatic fashion. E-book revenue "leveled off in 2013 at $3 billion after increasing nearly 50 percent in 2012." But writers' checks got smaller along the way.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARbWyD9h2boXUNgSRNLlCmDAHy1nqh4ON2dkfHxbsNPqOO4B-8ip5tOuWeucCl2QSKIX9kfSlTdnvV4l7M-wElERXhDxzr2qHuxk_7lVv6wvzrEvmP3oilP2B3JdoRK3emyvc2GeICaI/s1600/books-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhARbWyD9h2boXUNgSRNLlCmDAHy1nqh4ON2dkfHxbsNPqOO4B-8ip5tOuWeucCl2QSKIX9kfSlTdnvV4l7M-wElERXhDxzr2qHuxk_7lVv6wvzrEvmP3oilP2B3JdoRK3emyvc2GeICaI/s1600/books-2.jpg" /></a></div>
We come away from this confusion with the distinct impression that Amazon has very little regard or respect for the people who earn their profits: the writers. And the writers are taking notice. If Amazon loses its stock of books, it will be hard-pressed to ... well, sell books.<br />
<br />
The explanation we get from the prime offender in the book world is this: "An Amazon spokesman declined to answer questions about Kindle Unlimited." Writer Kathryn Meyer Griffith explains it this way, according to the NYTimes: "They’re doing a good job of recreating that whole unfair bogus system
where they make the money and we authors survive on the pennies that are
left."<br />
<br />
The landscape is changing almost daily in publishing and we'll have to wait and see what shakes out of the blanket. A couple of big-time writers from our region will talk about "The Future of the Book" Jan. 23 at the opening session of the Roanoke Regional Writers Conference at Hollins University. Roland Lazenby and Keith Ferrell have had bestsellers in the past year and Roland has been at the center of a huge row with Amazon. They know what's going on. You can register for the conference <a href="http://www.hollins.edu/academics/roanoke-regional-writers-conference/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-83716327904939477282014-12-27T15:52:00.002-05:002014-12-27T15:53:06.486-05:00Come on Over: The Cabbage Stew's Ready<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWQWuAkRZIBKVLk_-JO-8vDYXEJNQ0iNmmIMDLtSx0rsaxJKIXO1sTQ2rqJTeKHdwyqHxg2XDrX2p3jtNGXzIUIZ8OUc6BHvEiyVGPpRC_qzHFgajAraPUGMqhXZ6KFPyJbTkhOpMr1Y/s1600/DSCN0404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaWQWuAkRZIBKVLk_-JO-8vDYXEJNQ0iNmmIMDLtSx0rsaxJKIXO1sTQ2rqJTeKHdwyqHxg2XDrX2p3jtNGXzIUIZ8OUc6BHvEiyVGPpRC_qzHFgajAraPUGMqhXZ6KFPyJbTkhOpMr1Y/s1600/DSCN0404.JPG" height="288" width="400" /></a></div>
Here it is, Mother Smith's World Famous Cabbage Stew with Ham (and celery, leeks, carrots, onions, potatoes, sea salt and bits of a baked ham). Simmered for hours with a ham bone. It's as tasty as it looks and with a side of cornbread, I suspect I'll take a winter's nap when I finish eating.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-35821956473181068472014-12-27T13:18:00.001-05:002014-12-27T14:06:20.248-05:00Alpha: Memory of a Heartbreak and a Career Break<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJGfDmMWeueOdnVLPUt1WTJaiysusfVuPi3lKDXsbNZSeKGJEcMrYhN55u0PkB4BGXL4LM-7SBU-XNU2Y7lmzqOX-MW8fBeyE63PjsSTkkIRbjHbJC5TL2dI3MuEaMeEdkKl2-SldiwnI/s1600/alpha.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJGfDmMWeueOdnVLPUt1WTJaiysusfVuPi3lKDXsbNZSeKGJEcMrYhN55u0PkB4BGXL4LM-7SBU-XNU2Y7lmzqOX-MW8fBeyE63PjsSTkkIRbjHbJC5TL2dI3MuEaMeEdkKl2-SldiwnI/s1600/alpha.jpeg" height="290" width="400" /></a></div>
This 1955 Alfa Romeo Giulietta Spider--actually one very much like it--sat on the lot, under a shed, at Ed Orr Motors on Biltmore Avenue in Asheville, N.C., for about six months in 1964. It was priced at $1,000 and I had to walk past it every day on the way to work at the Glidden Paint Company's warehouse on the other side of town.<br />
<br />
I lusted after the Alfa, standing transfixed each morning and afternoon as I strode briskly to work and paused for the moments I could. I earned $50 a week ($1.25 an hour, which was minimum wage) and was in a constant state of doing the math on being able to buy this beauty.<br />
<br />
I day-dreamed of somebody who looked distractingly like Audrey Hepburn in the passenger seat wearing a yellow sundress, white scarf and pearls. I wore my plaid newsboy cap and belted brown tweed jacket, tan turtleneck and calfskin driving gloves, and was driving with one hand on the steering wheel, an arm around Audrey. She was smiling. I was beaming.<br />
<br />
I fantasized day and night and during the day it got me in a lot of trouble at work because I didn't pay attention. I made a mistake shipping a large order of the wrong color of paint to a construction site downtown and was fired. It was a large bank building on Pack Square that still is prominent on the Asheville skyline.<br />
<br />
I got a job quickly with King Arthur's Roundtable barbecue shop and after a bit followed my mother's advice to show up at the newspaper and see if I could get a job there. I did and I did.<br />
<br />
This Alpha Romeo was just named one of "The 10 Most Beautiful Cars in History" and I have absolutely no argument with that assessment. I know that on the day I passed Ed Orr Motors and the shed no longer held the little red car, my heart was broken. A few months later, I bought a 1956 Ford Station Wagon, my friend Al Geremonte's fishing car. It was as distant from the Alpha as Jupiter from my house. The old Ford tank was my first car. Al taught me to drive it. He was my first newspaper mentor, a World War II platoon sergeant at Guadalcanal who "taught you everything you know, kid, but I didn't teach you everything I know."<br />
<br />
I got the job at the newspaper because I lost the job at Glidden because I daydreamed about Audrey and the Alpha. That was 50 years ago. I'm still writing and I still love that car. And Audrey shows up in my dreams occasionally, too.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-47126986401388052582014-12-26T14:31:00.003-05:002014-12-26T14:31:51.579-05:00Getting (Really) Close to Nature<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0p_9Tbme4zuC77DYIwL-kowWGFwponjSfGfMEkB1jkJWl1y4gAM1bhgVu3lxYxTgqFHKeVOUPaRBVnbzZuz0rhfdhZGRm0DPPVThQuiPVmyqFnUmgiRdZaveyQ1gLplEMLfeJbK_ml6s/s1600/h-hoofprint.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0p_9Tbme4zuC77DYIwL-kowWGFwponjSfGfMEkB1jkJWl1y4gAM1bhgVu3lxYxTgqFHKeVOUPaRBVnbzZuz0rhfdhZGRm0DPPVThQuiPVmyqFnUmgiRdZaveyQ1gLplEMLfeJbK_ml6s/s1600/h-hoofprint.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deer prints over hiking boot prints: Who's chasing whom?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVumngJSsJ6ZQQH9UQjdcDz5Huxl5g28HZqAHWZKd_XsoP_Eny8_1pWh4_oklljnju4k7PXWAXcuTGyVeaLqA3xfeT6fogX3FF2XHCjlIlXb4XNthddxoC39_jYkYRcppMeSntSZqC4U/s1600/h-moss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVumngJSsJ6ZQQH9UQjdcDz5Huxl5g28HZqAHWZKd_XsoP_Eny8_1pWh4_oklljnju4k7PXWAXcuTGyVeaLqA3xfeT6fogX3FF2XHCjlIlXb4XNthddxoC39_jYkYRcppMeSntSZqC4U/s1600/h-moss.jpg" height="177" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Moss, up close and personal.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
These closeups are from a little hike-ette I took a while ago out near Botetourt County. Funny how things look wildly different when you stick your nose right in them.<br />
<br />
Here's the bird's nose view of some common hike things.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vv5iMD-0Ijoz_0-jlRE5hNviPbQyf6JIUulgtarviOQ79NZS2ShKFXhG4HlGpQZdaimSDRRfc6EuP39eBukQPW9opLuQYiAoON8AKRB6afbVtKijaFmYKnLRW90yMpu2NNP3xmNPztU/s1600/h-lichens2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vv5iMD-0Ijoz_0-jlRE5hNviPbQyf6JIUulgtarviOQ79NZS2ShKFXhG4HlGpQZdaimSDRRfc6EuP39eBukQPW9opLuQYiAoON8AKRB6afbVtKijaFmYKnLRW90yMpu2NNP3xmNPztU/s1600/h-lichens2.jpg" height="350" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I would liken lichens to things I like. But I won't say that.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnXcqLW_vxUVAygNGzQm2roJFPzjxe_hwA-OSiAuuVNSN5KRkJ1tFtnCXgayXrhB6YkpStjGwotviD_9tMXSAxk2U5lwb3k_3j98gIAq_7f8dlsteWlTpTn1ZFAhXFulW6JJNL6v2u6E/s1600/h-lichens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOnXcqLW_vxUVAygNGzQm2roJFPzjxe_hwA-OSiAuuVNSN5KRkJ1tFtnCXgayXrhB6YkpStjGwotviD_9tMXSAxk2U5lwb3k_3j98gIAq_7f8dlsteWlTpTn1ZFAhXFulW6JJNL6v2u6E/s1600/h-lichens.jpg" height="292" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More lichens to like. (Oh, shut up!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-38497096503608859342014-12-26T14:21:00.001-05:002014-12-26T14:24:31.976-05:00The Pampettes and Their New Sweats<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7r2LYvbPNRbFFZPXlM_zj6DLGYlV4fHbn77E344sJvsH94aJtJXK1YMyWbGrNoQhFgyeNsgTBDQ19zSrCT6fwnB-YWFFjaCNYMwWxOVsgsljHFuu5C7hPlLp55Ho3iY2p6yHJJoBOpuU/s1600/christmas+2014+oz+maddie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7r2LYvbPNRbFFZPXlM_zj6DLGYlV4fHbn77E344sJvsH94aJtJXK1YMyWbGrNoQhFgyeNsgTBDQ19zSrCT6fwnB-YWFFjaCNYMwWxOVsgsljHFuu5C7hPlLp55Ho3iY2p6yHJJoBOpuU/s1600/christmas+2014+oz+maddie.jpg" height="640" width="403" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the straight view of the Pampettes.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kUA8Ey9nC5igDMTDNWpJHe8gdMq7SrzJ4yoOjAWXbbsJgcg90Qftwu4pWdM0sZiyppkoxeqLipuv-4XFrFimAFPrWpMPZM9ZAyxE4yF81IKfVlHzS8SV4ME45pMgSUZFC8sTTRaKGvI/s1600/christmas+2014+oz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kUA8Ey9nC5igDMTDNWpJHe8gdMq7SrzJ4yoOjAWXbbsJgcg90Qftwu4pWdM0sZiyppkoxeqLipuv-4XFrFimAFPrWpMPZM9ZAyxE4yF81IKfVlHzS8SV4ME45pMgSUZFC8sTTRaKGvI/s1600/christmas+2014+oz.jpg" height="320" width="199" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Oz being Oz.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEIDD7kVF_-2GliTOBAFAFi03sckZMOQ2aTwcu2z6fNa4ozsclyreU4Npsfro-NanHm79YhOwbAUKU26Rfmczvne0Cw63SmG2S-ZJc8qSPxPNLi7W6eVnOCABQHI70Ol9m-3oyW_n1GE/s1600/christmas+2014+oz2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEIDD7kVF_-2GliTOBAFAFi03sckZMOQ2aTwcu2z6fNa4ozsclyreU4Npsfro-NanHm79YhOwbAUKU26Rfmczvne0Cw63SmG2S-ZJc8qSPxPNLi7W6eVnOCABQHI70Ol9m-3oyW_n1GE/s1600/christmas+2014+oz2.jpg" height="320" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Oz being Dr. Cool Dude.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfrRthjkftOTWDkBidfYbXAOU1bK7GQtENpJI20u_VptIkDkHkUdWe4hB_bmGBRLQvJSnpH6uZobncWqzudFumqGRV8i8khiKRh9yeb_y8JU6KGhsbHwhKptQNPJXBplBAOR5jRuHa8Y/s1600/christmas+2014+maddie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfrRthjkftOTWDkBidfYbXAOU1bK7GQtENpJI20u_VptIkDkHkUdWe4hB_bmGBRLQvJSnpH6uZobncWqzudFumqGRV8i8khiKRh9yeb_y8JU6KGhsbHwhKptQNPJXBplBAOR5jRuHa8Y/s1600/christmas+2014+maddie.jpg" height="400" width="178" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sophisticated Madeline.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
I asked my grandkids' (the Pampettes) Mom to get a couple of photos of Madeline and Oz in their Pampa-generated sweatshirts that I sent them for Christmas and this is what she came up with. Oz's shirt, of course, says "OZ" and Maddie's is the title of my novel, <i>CLOG!. </i>They seem to like the hoodies, so I guess I get a passing grade in Pampa-ing.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBA1A9BAYRJcQe3tpCig2XZ-HPz1ksEwo_xMQ8ZJGzZp6yvamR2gZSH-8Ka-NzmoK594mKRIeqV7ISlrFSh2zhSo7acS-WuqG38VlE60JvKtbtIzLfwSlGUJ7k9FGQU2sUS679LmhINPA/s1600/christmas+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBA1A9BAYRJcQe3tpCig2XZ-HPz1ksEwo_xMQ8ZJGzZp6yvamR2gZSH-8Ka-NzmoK594mKRIeqV7ISlrFSh2zhSo7acS-WuqG38VlE60JvKtbtIzLfwSlGUJ7k9FGQU2sUS679LmhINPA/s1600/christmas+2014.jpg" height="326" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pop Quiz: Which is the real Santa?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-3127771608472317392014-12-26T14:07:00.003-05:002014-12-26T14:07:22.090-05:00New Glasses and I Can See! (for Now)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhxmRzuf5SISJPuUQEtn7FLzed363xxX7THLdL-g3oILNOdbArhSJzSDzbif6GeCmhfI4fs8vcHsMc1gEw2tUDI-eo8IFVvenQFgwmdFssyUx8yJyn5XemUQJcQHJVQfFYoLLr5R3m-g/s1600/new+glasses+xmas+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhxmRzuf5SISJPuUQEtn7FLzed363xxX7THLdL-g3oILNOdbArhSJzSDzbif6GeCmhfI4fs8vcHsMc1gEw2tUDI-eo8IFVvenQFgwmdFssyUx8yJyn5XemUQJcQHJVQfFYoLLr5R3m-g/s1600/new+glasses+xmas+2014.jpg" height="400" width="295" /></a></div>
OK, so here are the new glasses, picked up a couple of hours ago at the glasses shop. They seem to be working well, unlike their previous half dozen or so predecessors.<br />
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I went for the bigger lenses this time because the only pair of glasses I had prior to these that I could see out of with any degree of consistency is a pair I bought maybe 15 years ago. They're big "old man" glasses.<br />
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More recently, I have preferred the slim, horizontal dealies that are trendy and damn near useless if seeing is the goal.<br />
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I like these. I hope I like them two days from now.<br />
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What do you think?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-76924894390398208902014-12-25T19:23:00.003-05:002014-12-25T19:40:56.542-05:00Christmas on the Trail: Crabtree Falls, Beauty and Mystery<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDx28U2CMQwgkivaA1U-6oqSb0gn4Fxi-eC4_Ue3Jdxk_9s23FvyceAZ2IwFd40xgIHA0Iph4wyF0jnn26j7Mlaf6p_GVytZV3YqaqoimJYQ2CYHUCrGAGCKBppIgvAHukSpGxY0gW3sU/s1600/11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDx28U2CMQwgkivaA1U-6oqSb0gn4Fxi-eC4_Ue3Jdxk_9s23FvyceAZ2IwFd40xgIHA0Iph4wyF0jnn26j7Mlaf6p_GVytZV3YqaqoimJYQ2CYHUCrGAGCKBppIgvAHukSpGxY0gW3sU/s1600/11.jpg" height="425" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 1,000-foot-high falls overlooks Leah as she climbs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2RH3q56cpQF7iKHNltpSaVSraVelb5Gs9bSL5jXVeWIiJoLglbmgxKAGD0tZttHRpZVQXapHTA2WkfDecp71xQxHk1arykLU-m-N5KCCc8XZ-8l8YRDz247ns-Gt9FF4qM555UQ8OA7M/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2RH3q56cpQF7iKHNltpSaVSraVelb5Gs9bSL5jXVeWIiJoLglbmgxKAGD0tZttHRpZVQXapHTA2WkfDecp71xQxHk1arykLU-m-N5KCCc8XZ-8l8YRDz247ns-Gt9FF4qM555UQ8OA7M/s1600/9.jpg" height="400" width="217" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even in winter, it's gorgeous.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My friend Leah Weiss and I began what I hope is a Christmas tradition today with a hike into one of the wondrous corners of our mountains: Crabtree Falls in Nelson County. This is a string of waterfalls, counting 1,000 feet ultimately and the hike is almost straight up the side of the mountain.<br />
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It's 3.4 miles and I don't know whether it's more tiring going up or coming down, but it is breathtakingly beautiful either way.<br />
<br />
Here is some of what we saw today. I look forward to a series of Christmas hikes in the future--if I get to live that long. What a wondrous way to spend one of my favorite days of the year.<br />
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We ran into some delightful people with the same idea we had, and also a couple of mysteries. Leah rested in a bench dedicated to a man named Bill Christmas, who died in 1978 at 22. Did he fall into the waterfall at this dangerous junction?<br />
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A bit further up, I discovered a bunch of roses and a photograph of a pretty young blonde. What's the story there?<br />
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The falls are quite dangerous in many places, but far less dangerous today with all the build-up than in the past. It's worth your time to walk it. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpzBubrxbvPdlkjTKfo97Z2fS7L0APD6QtpxQCSYrZ_OBgBEo0-ndVUOQW2q8co3hheBJNlUVfUD_RYmBs9ILzP570LYOC4lPau99oLOpL3fNiJZ-GV2bnIBtoZiilvfLfHn_7JW258g/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTpzBubrxbvPdlkjTKfo97Z2fS7L0APD6QtpxQCSYrZ_OBgBEo0-ndVUOQW2q8co3hheBJNlUVfUD_RYmBs9ILzP570LYOC4lPau99oLOpL3fNiJZ-GV2bnIBtoZiilvfLfHn_7JW258g/s1600/12.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The water is powerful and beautiful, the colors vivid.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqQ0soD1sicKt7o0_FAwCuqHwZN5zRo9cLDXuQrESE7Nl3eJmuAlxU0YUIV-nDL0MMikhmL-TLovnEWkbWlU6K3M960OBrULbecIarl_pmvXc1JebB17N97Gw1QHs_vuUyW-6F1DiYQ0/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqQ0soD1sicKt7o0_FAwCuqHwZN5zRo9cLDXuQrESE7Nl3eJmuAlxU0YUIV-nDL0MMikhmL-TLovnEWkbWlU6K3M960OBrULbecIarl_pmvXc1JebB17N97Gw1QHs_vuUyW-6F1DiYQ0/s1600/1.jpg" height="270" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leah at the entrance to the trail, ready to hike.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfu6l_K21zkxk78d2XDKliCjrQzzKyz5abJiqaeWLpssWOs6Tw4PkwAB5AuARIx6yPwjqAT82ZLqh_xtc8t6Nfs7aBnzflie3S1U9H6xBXaA3HI5FhNHCc4kKRhUHRWilt646GnsIhpbU/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfu6l_K21zkxk78d2XDKliCjrQzzKyz5abJiqaeWLpssWOs6Tw4PkwAB5AuARIx6yPwjqAT82ZLqh_xtc8t6Nfs7aBnzflie3S1U9H6xBXaA3HI5FhNHCc4kKRhUHRWilt646GnsIhpbU/s1600/6.jpg" height="400" width="291" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steps are steep and today they were wet.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZlYaOEweWHXMPESPZF5WLl93rRaLwCxJYDEdFyIT1yftjbM8PArsNSkY26scb7h5sscQPb84muYPaTMpVaQkNAdMZv_b5WM_vJ2Got5MWicG1Pz6hRryRtoPKZT6dvuUw1Mf_4Rh1Ds/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZlYaOEweWHXMPESPZF5WLl93rRaLwCxJYDEdFyIT1yftjbM8PArsNSkY26scb7h5sscQPb84muYPaTMpVaQkNAdMZv_b5WM_vJ2Got5MWicG1Pz6hRryRtoPKZT6dvuUw1Mf_4Rh1Ds/s1600/4.jpg" height="400" width="353" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy? Yep. Doing what I love to do.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgacmhd-r4BRZD3kwaOlXz4KbC4Xb-cSpu_pZog3XiTyWRZPYCPv-N6_yEKNSz8lQBBj_qnbx3xXaVS7N8kl-EMIAzXU7mJ7tdt9bR5v6BR-s7HUs8CHerbPSn2DThjsVx-JgdTK6KL29k/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgacmhd-r4BRZD3kwaOlXz4KbC4Xb-cSpu_pZog3XiTyWRZPYCPv-N6_yEKNSz8lQBBj_qnbx3xXaVS7N8kl-EMIAzXU7mJ7tdt9bR5v6BR-s7HUs8CHerbPSn2DThjsVx-JgdTK6KL29k/s1600/3.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The prettiest girl in the room, even the big room.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1GBMI_5xe25imv695zNkTLXm2_D2u1v4MsxJdekdUUrOVvF_ooJy-T6FDQUKmGMN7kNkV3VghnmYUWG3oQ0gR9Rqp6vd33-E5Fp-xFV3lka2V-4Vg2xLMgD5bHqxQap1AKSfiKRkMlvI/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1GBMI_5xe25imv695zNkTLXm2_D2u1v4MsxJdekdUUrOVvF_ooJy-T6FDQUKmGMN7kNkV3VghnmYUWG3oQ0gR9Rqp6vd33-E5Fp-xFV3lka2V-4Vg2xLMgD5bHqxQap1AKSfiKRkMlvI/s1600/10.jpg" height="400" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meandering nicely.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirdgW6v7e1S_piWSTOJKmJxA315fz8B0QIZTBJ6BccLHiztvpJfrhEV_20VLob2zHR_538e-XOVHKre4pP3rb7yppZf94KYjzwu6ZGuVXEl_0RnxeCRC-v3BvlyCMiMu7ZZLsWRmLhtNE/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirdgW6v7e1S_piWSTOJKmJxA315fz8B0QIZTBJ6BccLHiztvpJfrhEV_20VLob2zHR_538e-XOVHKre4pP3rb7yppZf94KYjzwu6ZGuVXEl_0RnxeCRC-v3BvlyCMiMu7ZZLsWRmLhtNE/s1600/7.jpg" height="482" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The falls fall in pieces.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjseWzoHhSoQWsbB5p7Es40oSA9rit9ox0druClWIegC02BidWmZvRtpDyUFYX_a3-54p0182lDzo87miGYWbcQjhbRYQmRj7PzVsxBzLaXNKECyHH4IivB5KCu0zI5Fy8XlLTdb0GWGHU/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjseWzoHhSoQWsbB5p7Es40oSA9rit9ox0druClWIegC02BidWmZvRtpDyUFYX_a3-54p0182lDzo87miGYWbcQjhbRYQmRj7PzVsxBzLaXNKECyHH4IivB5KCu0zI5Fy8XlLTdb0GWGHU/s1600/13.jpg" height="400" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And here's another piece.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxorTTbcmF3rcDPOt95J-s3NqWgabHeEia9lnfGm8sCaX7sSvb4fRxj7w8XpbfC_RHmIMIaFC0by1k2YinhaBgILeo4LX3UM00qJCZEdSKPVFITJHFO2IPUDR0n0xefN_Rd2RSSNYRq5Q/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxorTTbcmF3rcDPOt95J-s3NqWgabHeEia9lnfGm8sCaX7sSvb4fRxj7w8XpbfC_RHmIMIaFC0by1k2YinhaBgILeo4LX3UM00qJCZEdSKPVFITJHFO2IPUDR0n0xefN_Rd2RSSNYRq5Q/s1600/14.jpg" height="400" width="187" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The trail was wet, dangerous.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjglHyL5cjtvH4YPRYP2fdntO3bu3nTk7yraHgXWzkD34zMsuTwhaeN5qrbs9t1zdCCIEDplzAeM7f7pkXqQ3NCSxaYjheYtl5REjqCQDX13IUCYBgiTL0l8-uFUaQbcDfBvG3ZfC13Sd4/s1600/15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjglHyL5cjtvH4YPRYP2fdntO3bu3nTk7yraHgXWzkD34zMsuTwhaeN5qrbs9t1zdCCIEDplzAeM7f7pkXqQ3NCSxaYjheYtl5REjqCQDX13IUCYBgiTL0l8-uFUaQbcDfBvG3ZfC13Sd4/s1600/15.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More steep steps.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5u68c02gHR8sBnc4WWJV0xJ9NpCLY-cIPi-2JR1lkgLHSRAQ8Q4adkv16LvUgIIcmjtHZhnxJm58F96icwlZeooRKQFkglgX7cj4cCfKRFoD2XXfX9AxpbgQa03V2H3gfqX9_FWJWX6k/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5u68c02gHR8sBnc4WWJV0xJ9NpCLY-cIPi-2JR1lkgLHSRAQ8Q4adkv16LvUgIIcmjtHZhnxJm58F96icwlZeooRKQFkglgX7cj4cCfKRFoD2XXfX9AxpbgQa03V2H3gfqX9_FWJWX6k/s1600/16.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pampa the hikerman at the halfway point.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaIFauQ0RPhRnqqit0xgb0IB17jfJqLvUKDxBYRqndsQaPZd8AWL4oP3EF0gPCGlVq6aTP92w5effjw6r3h3E79bPLtIQWxSmX5FEH8_CWn7Zme3VhgQCAzpTwg27E0q1m8q_QI1nR2k/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaIFauQ0RPhRnqqit0xgb0IB17jfJqLvUKDxBYRqndsQaPZd8AWL4oP3EF0gPCGlVq6aTP92w5effjw6r3h3E79bPLtIQWxSmX5FEH8_CWn7Zme3VhgQCAzpTwg27E0q1m8q_QI1nR2k/s1600/17.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These guys grow on the logs and catch my eye every time.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuYT7Ysdec6fDD4y9odeBaj34-ihtEWZ7N5cpFXS351ScS0iwC-FGHBXdDWJtBiXps7R6kWER9EZ84JYbR_M06bhlAjsrsE8NPNVpnk8g_lOsyQYPzPRGB36leEWYeTKoPTc2zlHZwsc/s1600/18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcuYT7Ysdec6fDD4y9odeBaj34-ihtEWZ7N5cpFXS351ScS0iwC-FGHBXdDWJtBiXps7R6kWER9EZ84JYbR_M06bhlAjsrsE8NPNVpnk8g_lOsyQYPzPRGB36leEWYeTKoPTc2zlHZwsc/s1600/18.jpg" height="524" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This bench is a memorial to Bill Christmas, who died at 22 in 1978, perhaps on the trail. I don't know.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyM_upKj9eU-XSeXik-dVTKhQ0WDGk6lCwIyp0QKwiIMDOZQVZ2_DVb5xgMezNzjLHF27cbX2ah9Tlz2Ymm18_9Y_3BiSez9aFqkxTNiALMstUerudRETLsJmQrS9utBUHPdIU0wLFHoY/s1600/19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyM_upKj9eU-XSeXik-dVTKhQ0WDGk6lCwIyp0QKwiIMDOZQVZ2_DVb5xgMezNzjLHF27cbX2ah9Tlz2Ymm18_9Y_3BiSez9aFqkxTNiALMstUerudRETLsJmQrS9utBUHPdIU0wLFHoY/s1600/19.jpg" height="640" width="416" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Red Leah-hood: Black and white and color.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1IHDaUMr34M0Z9YwowcFHksfiW4S8UOmRs0YZYo9H1pKJRouayGmEHAab4JY2e8SUTIuSvo3Uic19lVkqLO0TSq1jnzOsn1m2HkIJT5QlNHdwCrXc9hFDPJxzWAd2RMGQTJihT539oEQ/s1600/24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1IHDaUMr34M0Z9YwowcFHksfiW4S8UOmRs0YZYo9H1pKJRouayGmEHAab4JY2e8SUTIuSvo3Uic19lVkqLO0TSq1jnzOsn1m2HkIJT5QlNHdwCrXc9hFDPJxzWAd2RMGQTJihT539oEQ/s1600/24.jpg" height="207" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pampa in red.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Ts6M9SnX44tf8BVPYq-JIIxIXyZ1avoywK7kGqnbWjxqCOzpyRL9pASR7p6zumlmNBxh2I3NEDi20Z78JUmHljzIwLh3xH11uCyG64uLh8xsnYWJt9fp9Od2PTZJ_Qb8SX53atfcTeo/s1600/23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Ts6M9SnX44tf8BVPYq-JIIxIXyZ1avoywK7kGqnbWjxqCOzpyRL9pASR7p6zumlmNBxh2I3NEDi20Z78JUmHljzIwLh3xH11uCyG64uLh8xsnYWJt9fp9Od2PTZJ_Qb8SX53atfcTeo/s1600/23.jpg" height="320" width="189" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Top of the falls.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6p3dhwI2vBtU-WWfgbmb_tFh6wClClmIcFNtbwg7hBOfuV9ihscF-SVx-NOb2NBlVOUALA8hOl9E1Y76Xewvsp0n91WiKTuEPkx163pZviMqx0B4TyzkQCctgSyMKL6K9dBkFsXCmPU/s1600/22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6p3dhwI2vBtU-WWfgbmb_tFh6wClClmIcFNtbwg7hBOfuV9ihscF-SVx-NOb2NBlVOUALA8hOl9E1Y76Xewvsp0n91WiKTuEPkx163pZviMqx0B4TyzkQCctgSyMKL6K9dBkFsXCmPU/s1600/22.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the view from the top of the falls. Can't see the water.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlO8iMMH_UczoP-lfzFnkQ698NdW2b1HIBPtWtsFqE4PbN9P3QA1aDzeHVGzqcSxWTT11MIq93XoBpGbhWkArpnFHt2chBAfCBmqxosTqaTtGtef3Zu8KgTOLc_IDpIA_txKt6njP_tYA/s1600/26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlO8iMMH_UczoP-lfzFnkQ698NdW2b1HIBPtWtsFqE4PbN9P3QA1aDzeHVGzqcSxWTT11MIq93XoBpGbhWkArpnFHt2chBAfCBmqxosTqaTtGtef3Zu8KgTOLc_IDpIA_txKt6njP_tYA/s1600/26.jpg" height="400" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roses and a photo and a lot of questions why.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhthiqJRkIpZWjRZtH8DzM41lulYByNDleQdKkCfqnb_TPzM_FItclEzfb21Eysf9jyCq0qgNvy0k366ACM8c4nO72EzaYpCnXOMJHqyRQBCtDaK0aLihVesoTdKJPNfW4GmK3qhFjSGhE/s1600/27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhthiqJRkIpZWjRZtH8DzM41lulYByNDleQdKkCfqnb_TPzM_FItclEzfb21Eysf9jyCq0qgNvy0k366ACM8c4nO72EzaYpCnXOMJHqyRQBCtDaK0aLihVesoTdKJPNfW4GmK3qhFjSGhE/s1600/27.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leah coming down ...</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAX2VBE9Qd3z4dVMxaK6FRmo7CehsCgMUPZdCYgUmzc6enPPJs3xCAjSJWHNCxrlE4hd6GUmYT_D2ZKEvmgzdjLSDLMkW2bMLZewUUJaGj9u2ZGSYtVjqtlVrOnqpyyUCbR8FEP68ZxR8/s1600/28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAX2VBE9Qd3z4dVMxaK6FRmo7CehsCgMUPZdCYgUmzc6enPPJs3xCAjSJWHNCxrlE4hd6GUmYT_D2ZKEvmgzdjLSDLMkW2bMLZewUUJaGj9u2ZGSYtVjqtlVrOnqpyyUCbR8FEP68ZxR8/s1600/28.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">... and down and down and down ...</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-87968661749225725752014-12-25T17:59:00.000-05:002014-12-25T19:42:42.237-05:00Lynchburg Through the Years<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpabK26ot1VlVm_SyJGjnisd93MOllZ8jvjy7kTXtWIcRxckw8ELCQd0KF78mBMFYqxrBvPtKGVtdAnYAlpfCYTSlsKS9JB1hAf9lvCC5g7gupINipyPwjq7_ln39TwhiinLQaZlQrNBw/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpabK26ot1VlVm_SyJGjnisd93MOllZ8jvjy7kTXtWIcRxckw8ELCQd0KF78mBMFYqxrBvPtKGVtdAnYAlpfCYTSlsKS9JB1hAf9lvCC5g7gupINipyPwjq7_ln39TwhiinLQaZlQrNBw/s1600/1.jpg" height="547" width="640" /></a></div>
This is a new installation by my artist friend Paul Clements in Lynchburg, downtown near the river.<br />
<br />
The metal silhouettes represent the skylines of Lynchburg at different times in the city's history and they are backlit metal on concrete. Just gorgeous. A powerful statement on the Hill City's growth over the years. Gorgeous piece.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-73719524160817167242014-12-25T17:55:00.002-05:002014-12-25T17:55:51.473-05:00A Very Gaudy Christmas To You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVFgrwRb8jfSe5Hm_mAv_SO1yXfQpWJmaOo_Hr-du39qraWT9DzsK_CM9s2TKkjNziEnKhvjx5_wM8F3n2ZsoO-wg7JHk4Zzmhq8JjfQ6itj63sBg7sIFlCwm-jIXGQ1FmdebiroCF2g/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitVFgrwRb8jfSe5Hm_mAv_SO1yXfQpWJmaOo_Hr-du39qraWT9DzsK_CM9s2TKkjNziEnKhvjx5_wM8F3n2ZsoO-wg7JHk4Zzmhq8JjfQ6itj63sBg7sIFlCwm-jIXGQ1FmdebiroCF2g/s1600/5.jpg" height="338" width="640" /></a></div>
This was the scene in Lynchburg last night. Can't 'splain it, Lucy, but I could sit there for a goodly while and gawk at it. Hmmmmm. The real meaning of Christmas? Who the hell knows?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-11709967367116752042014-12-24T09:43:00.000-05:002014-12-24T09:43:06.309-05:00In Florida, Football Has Priority Over Rape<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDtcS6QRYoqVVDgwYMCu15d6Jb3S5ds13Qoy7QjH4lkDcJxzOO2DWLJ9-aftzvAzyKLAvtVOJxfZ-0AXr_ORIRVvPgE0kUKQpXFu4iUSKZnDzVV0_9PltYjb6Df1rCSHhR1XUW228mQwo/s1600/rape4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDtcS6QRYoqVVDgwYMCu15d6Jb3S5ds13Qoy7QjH4lkDcJxzOO2DWLJ9-aftzvAzyKLAvtVOJxfZ-0AXr_ORIRVvPgE0kUKQpXFu4iUSKZnDzVV0_9PltYjb6Df1rCSHhR1XUW228mQwo/s1600/rape4.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Women in Florida might as well yell at the wall.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As Juliet Macur writes in her indictment of Florida State football in this morning's NYTimes (<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/24/sports/ncaafootball/transcript-of-jameis-winston-hearing-reveals-accusers-words-and-florida-states-complicity.html?emc=edit_th_20141224&nl=todaysheadlines&nlid=66957502&_r=0" target="_blank">here</a>), Seminole fans, graduates and followers probably need to take a shower after Heismann winner Jameis Winston's student conduct trial recently.<br />
<br />
He was cleared of raping a young student--who since has left the university and gets to live with a rape for the rest of her life--by a kangaroo court in which his only defense was to hesitatingly say the young victim "moaned" while he violated her. The judge took that to mean she approved.<br />
<br />
I have been working a story on rape for the past three weeks and the testimony and the treatment by the justice system in this case is a classic example of why women don't report rape. They believe with some justification that little will be done, that the police simply don't believe them (police officials tell me this) and that they have little or no chance of doing anything but embarrassing themselves publicly. In the Florida State case, for example, the perpetrator's lawyer released the name of the victim. At the very, very best that is unethical and deserving of action by the Florida bar. But, hey, this is Florida and football is football. You know, boys will be boys.<br />
<br />
An investigation by The Times has found just about everything wrong with the pursuit of Winston as a rapist and the clear suggestion is that Florida law enforcement officials believe football success to be far more important than a young woman's safety on a college campus.<br />
<br />
Florida is and has been a Third World nation for some time now in many respects, but this pushes it even deeper into that netherworld of greed and misplaced priorities. Somebody somewhere along the line needs to make some serious changes and I don't think anybody in Florida has that capacity. It took the NYTimes, for example, to investigate both the case and the investigation of the case, both shoddy and criminally negligent.<br />
<br />
I will not watch the Florida State playoff game coming up on New Year's, but I will openly hope that Oregon and its outrageous uniforms treat the Seminoles as the (in)justice system in Florida has treated the young woman and as Winston treated her, as well.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-62195034371483442062014-12-24T09:08:00.001-05:002014-12-24T09:08:33.601-05:00Christmas Eve: Tick, Tick, Tick ...<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFQGuN1hFxk03YVTix4_Y8aaxhzhjZdSXLT6Vj7s78jJ5DYfZ5Y5XJxlPRNe_YpdRcCb3paQ7p2lxXR465uywEcH6a6-TQD8CTLwlrrKlnPYGocWPcC-w2auTe573cehA1THSEGpr5L8/s1600/christmas+2014-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOFQGuN1hFxk03YVTix4_Y8aaxhzhjZdSXLT6Vj7s78jJ5DYfZ5Y5XJxlPRNe_YpdRcCb3paQ7p2lxXR465uywEcH6a6-TQD8CTLwlrrKlnPYGocWPcC-w2auTe573cehA1THSEGpr5L8/s1600/christmas+2014-2.jpg" height="305" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who gets hathead at 8 a.m.? Hint: me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
OK, so now the Santa wait begins. It's rainy and warmish in Virginia and it feels like neither Wednesday, nor Christmas eve, but I see by the calendar on the lower right of my screen that it is both and computers don't lie.<br />
<br />
Most of the gift-giving/getting is done and the visits have been full, rich and overflowing with calories. I have spent a pretty good bit of time in front of the stove, baking, cooking soups and stews and closing my eyes at the frightening number of calories staring me in the face. I didn't eat the baked goods because of the dang diabetes, but the soups and stews? Yep. Ate them and invited others to share.<br />
<br />
This is the part of Christmas I like best: the anticipation, preparation and sharing of moments. It's like trout fishing, I suspect. I have, for example, finished Christmas shopping 11 times since August. Promised not to buy another thing. <br />
<br />
This year, the Pampettes (Oz and Maddie, my grandkids) are spending their first yule in Spain and my only visit with them will come via FaceTime tomorrow. It will be morning my time, afternoon--and well past the excitement of pre-dawn--for them. I love seeing those little faces in the fullness of the moment, though I'm not especially taken with the overwhelming amount of goods we foist upon our children these days. But that's for another time. Right now, I think I'll just enjoy it.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-51972998052591518682014-12-23T08:53:00.001-05:002014-12-23T08:53:26.750-05:00The Sad, Sad State of News Consumption in America<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGRJUy0pX1rxT9yJ9lzrmqqlX9B7eZ93ZVhKwTrjuDvDhy9xX6g89L11D0ZYGs5nV2dG_y-y5t6lzusARjjQBW7k7c4fvVWqGlXDaFWgGkeoJesUAhFE7jMFkdOUREdV36-6ew4Tf6WlQ/s1600/tv+news.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGRJUy0pX1rxT9yJ9lzrmqqlX9B7eZ93ZVhKwTrjuDvDhy9xX6g89L11D0ZYGs5nV2dG_y-y5t6lzusARjjQBW7k7c4fvVWqGlXDaFWgGkeoJesUAhFE7jMFkdOUREdV36-6ew4Tf6WlQ/s1600/tv+news.jpg" height="261" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time was when TV watching didn't involve political statements.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
"America’s dominant news source is television, and the disparity between
heavy viewers of TV news and everyone else is as startling as the gap
between the plutocrats and the people."<br />
<br />
That is from a Salon Magazine piece today (<a href="http://www.salon.com/2013/11/06/you_will_be_shocked_at_how_ignorant_americans_are_partner/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=socialflow" target="_blank">here</a>) about just how ill informed Americans are. <br />
<br />
Most of us understand that while TV news is awful in general, cable news is the nadir. TV news is so bad, in fact, that it makes the declining state of newspapers look positively sunny by comparison. With that in mind, consider this: "A heavy local news viewer watches about 22 minutes of it a day at home,
and a heavy network news viewer watches about 32 minutes a day. But a
heavy cable news consumer averages 72 minutes of it a day."<br />
<br />
As to those who only watch one philosophically-friendly channel: "about one-quarter of American adults watch only Fox News, another
quarter watch only CNN and 15 percent watch only MSNBC. But 28 percent
of Fox News viewers also watch MSNBC, and 34 percent of MSNBC viewers
watch Fox. More than half of MSNBC viewers, and nearly half of Fox
viewers, watch CNN, and of CNN’s viewers, about 4 out of 10 also watch
Fox, and 4 out of 10 also watch MSNBC."<br />
<br />
Marty Kaplan's story, noting the Pew Research, adds, "The top third of the country does 88 percent of the day’s TV news
viewing; the middle third watches only 10 percent of the total time; the
bottom third sees just 2 percent of the minutes of news consumed. Two-thirds of Americans live in an information underclass as
journalistically impoverished as the minuscule bazillionaire class is
triumphant." <br />
<br />
Writer Marty Kaplan concludes, "The danger democracy faces isn’t so much that different segments of our
country inhabit alternative realities constructed from different data
delivered by different news sources. It’s that a minority of the
country watches a fair amount of news, and a majority may as well be
living on the moon."<br />
<br />
My only dispute with Kaplan is that the Americans who watch a lot of cable news are better off for it. A couple of years ago, a study concluded that those who watch Fox News knew less about what was going on in the country/world than those who consumed no news at all.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-65180024128444057702014-12-22T08:44:00.002-05:002014-12-22T08:44:51.968-05:00Sexual Assault: 'Women at the Edges' Most Vulnerable<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4he9nn_ldtCOiE4IuocWzRjAGtjklCNBjmH3r51gZJIQWgnt32HNntBT7gxJjgvHklmotXn6eazk0Vj95lSgPvrX-cFWLoy_tc1gFodTLbW6gqX5c_LXWL6D4tC2rgNvnDlRelmqgTV0/s1600/rape3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4he9nn_ldtCOiE4IuocWzRjAGtjklCNBjmH3r51gZJIQWgnt32HNntBT7gxJjgvHklmotXn6eazk0Vj95lSgPvrX-cFWLoy_tc1gFodTLbW6gqX5c_LXWL6D4tC2rgNvnDlRelmqgTV0/s1600/rape3.jpg" height="280" width="320" /></a></div>
"Women at the margins are the ones who bear the brunt of the harshest
realities, including sexual violence, and they do so with the least
resources."<br />
<br />
The heavy emphasis of late has been on sexual assault on college campuses, but that emphasis may be misplaced. The previous quote is from a study at American University by Callie Rennison and Lynn Addington on the vulnerability of women in our society to sexual assault. It is, of course, the poor and uneducated who are most frequently the victims.<br />
<br />
Consider these study findings:<br />
<ul>
<li>College students between 18 and 24 years old are raped at a rate of 6.1 per 1,000, while other women are at 8 per 1,000, 30 percent higher.</li>
<li>Poor women are victims of sex crimes at a rate that is 3.7 percent higher than middle income women and a jaw-dropping six times that of high income women.</li>
<li>Women in rental housing are assaulted at a rate of 3.2 times that of women in homes they own.</li>
<li>Single women with children have the highest rate of sexual assault, nine times that of married women with no children, 3.6 times that of married women with children and 3.2 times the rate of single women with no children.</li>
<li>Women without a high school diploma are sexually assaulted at four times the rate of women with a bachelor's degree. </li>
</ul>
Rennison, writing in the New York Times (<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2014/12/22/opinion/who-suffers-most-from-rape-and-sexual-assault-in-america.html?emc=edit_th_20141222&nl=todaysheadlines&nlid=66957502&_r=0" target="_blank">here</a>), notes, "The one risk factor that remains consistent whether women are
advantaged or disadvantaged is age, and women ages 16 to 20 are sexually
victimized at the highest rates." Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-49403140964951296312014-12-21T17:03:00.001-05:002014-12-23T08:58:45.197-05:00My Friends Get Hitched in a Viking Wedding<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjIB8g1Fhh-Hgt2FC6X0VnLCE7IsAw0VhKQ5JStnmEsCrpc_j-IJ5eWwWiYMqXdmtXXJpiT1aHI3Ov3PEyLDbJnMWdxSWwkNKQvKmbjOewQhIp5wh3muvKSRHQZa7gxuA-PkbUvf0SYoc/s1600/38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjIB8g1Fhh-Hgt2FC6X0VnLCE7IsAw0VhKQ5JStnmEsCrpc_j-IJ5eWwWiYMqXdmtXXJpiT1aHI3Ov3PEyLDbJnMWdxSWwkNKQvKmbjOewQhIp5wh3muvKSRHQZa7gxuA-PkbUvf0SYoc/s1600/38.jpg" height="305" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The newlyweds: Charisse and Jeff</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="fbPhotoCaptionText">My friends Jeffrey Rigdon and Charisse Asvor<a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100006843613307" href="https://www.facebook.com/asvor.alfsinsbarn" id="js_6"></a> had a Viking wedding on Mill Mountain in Roanoke today. These are two of the very best people I know. They recently had a lovely girl baby and decided to tie the knot on this longest day of the year (longest ever, Jeff says).</span><br />
<span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"><br /></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIVjU9RQDWHuyYvbA1zB7PNWJ5nyi3vefMEnwyXmUbml9s7q6H6HwHXcLLmaz0RYvRwM8yBv9_4nFlofydpIRk3VTrRYLGDn5_p09wV6_suNEiMc7Fh88a6woYKrrzLjXN4Kabxl89b58/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIVjU9RQDWHuyYvbA1zB7PNWJ5nyi3vefMEnwyXmUbml9s7q6H6HwHXcLLmaz0RYvRwM8yBv9_4nFlofydpIRk3VTrRYLGDn5_p09wV6_suNEiMc7Fh88a6woYKrrzLjXN4Kabxl89b58/s1600/2.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Their little one.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="fbPhotoCaptionText">It is the solstice and a good time for Vikings to get married. Wedding days for Vikings are normally on Friday, but the equinox is a pretty good incentive to change it to Sunday. Viking weddings most often last a week, but this one will likely be over late tonight, since work awaits. </span><br />
<span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"><br /></span>
<span class="fbPhotoCaptionText">They were boiling mead on the mountain. Mead is a honey-based drink and with the wedding officially lasting a month, we get the term "honeymoon." This was a lovely wedding of two people of wildly different ages (Jeff's in his 60s, Charisse in her 20s); different ethnicities and different ... well, who cares? They are suited. You could tell from the smiles, the cracked jokes during the solemn moment, the quiet touches and glances.</span><br />
<span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"><br /></span>
<span class="fbPhotoCaptionText">I'm happy for both of them and for their little girl and all the grandkids and kids. It's a great blended and extended family.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAikl7IBFl2B_LUJiXFa8baaYxB0vM897qAGQShwlL0NRuESGZJIVXY4o5uvPoaq8ckraB98nuQFpolhPvVUlrUADwouv7CGO2RqK5ENXJsrRC0wm8WbmtnTJMl5p-lot1u3XWD_JWraM/s1600/40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAikl7IBFl2B_LUJiXFa8baaYxB0vM897qAGQShwlL0NRuESGZJIVXY4o5uvPoaq8ckraB98nuQFpolhPvVUlrUADwouv7CGO2RqK5ENXJsrRC0wm8WbmtnTJMl5p-lot1u3XWD_JWraM/s1600/40.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jeff with the mother of us all, Pearlie Mae Fu.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcwvQ7MbKfVgkgQCgoyy9_dRsvb7Wx1jcW2hkQtSdB7-jV8-PQNFRPy-RK66qnXrdSusJ5pafAoE9hRbXv-JgNvONhyphenhyphenrYn7d-OCKwB4DC3_HeSqmUP9THTCDPpQbmh6isfU_xDOl-xLk/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEcwvQ7MbKfVgkgQCgoyy9_dRsvb7Wx1jcW2hkQtSdB7-jV8-PQNFRPy-RK66qnXrdSusJ5pafAoE9hRbXv-JgNvONhyphenhyphenrYn7d-OCKwB4DC3_HeSqmUP9THTCDPpQbmh6isfU_xDOl-xLk/s1600/4.jpg" height="301" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jeff and his grandgirl.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOn1MmRnKI5zfC88-5B6zXV45zAFLI1d_F7eCruLylMZXriqY8HJT6Q7EDKKgKY0r-qYwk4QoBN19tFYejGBnnLlRQZNlRratlJmB3mUZFPPb0CE7jlFtgmPS5W53VQZGPHOGXRpoPD8/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOn1MmRnKI5zfC88-5B6zXV45zAFLI1d_F7eCruLylMZXriqY8HJT6Q7EDKKgKY0r-qYwk4QoBN19tFYejGBnnLlRQZNlRratlJmB3mUZFPPb0CE7jlFtgmPS5W53VQZGPHOGXRpoPD8/s1600/7.jpg" height="362" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking for diversity? Try this.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT8lmsE7c5rVQmPzDw8uejJtu-fv87ObH_9ZJWSQGcUeTT1lS9AxqefcqS4Jb8mN3gBQxcoFC23vQh2-uoe4tlfchJ-WQQxNAVlfrVk-S0jBQXEx6Osk4iyGXmRjJvLX4I-JlWrWWX-H0/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT8lmsE7c5rVQmPzDw8uejJtu-fv87ObH_9ZJWSQGcUeTT1lS9AxqefcqS4Jb8mN3gBQxcoFC23vQh2-uoe4tlfchJ-WQQxNAVlfrVk-S0jBQXEx6Osk4iyGXmRjJvLX4I-JlWrWWX-H0/s1600/10.jpg" height="351" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My friend Anne Sampson shoots the details.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk0KbyTyg8frXXIdUvAVSNwGElNxbE8nuylTJ-Iymh1VuEpQHF0FdF5BzpQZsK1MHGWNpJj1GpjstjV0rydInN23580dbimh9Zi2i8nC7kG4N7ho78X-6XMO1HbedY7gZX5Lvv1oX9Bvo/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk0KbyTyg8frXXIdUvAVSNwGElNxbE8nuylTJ-Iymh1VuEpQHF0FdF5BzpQZsK1MHGWNpJj1GpjstjV0rydInN23580dbimh9Zi2i8nC7kG4N7ho78X-6XMO1HbedY7gZX5Lvv1oX9Bvo/s1600/12.jpg" height="269" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anne shoots me shooting her.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6PHZXlU9dBd79My6m5nmH8_m1ZUpA-6tkCMPWD15UjK56KvvYXUnrCIhAR0PkcAqMk64dZ5psjZHaQOs4apCrtAzlGod8OCr5wglXQnNu62Rc62nx42h43tpBxVjxzjyeKDGRGUeAXF8/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6PHZXlU9dBd79My6m5nmH8_m1ZUpA-6tkCMPWD15UjK56KvvYXUnrCIhAR0PkcAqMk64dZ5psjZHaQOs4apCrtAzlGod8OCr5wglXQnNu62Rc62nx42h43tpBxVjxzjyeKDGRGUeAXF8/s1600/16.jpg" height="273" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ceremony.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguf2fToSP-JYmdRBZWgGyAzl831vfACLSLIrC9p2rqcNrLJEh0SMbnq992mOBVTv1Z_cw4fhwBi2SuWIn4gKA4y9c8QhWwj6G4ETQgTEjQ7MaZ6OGAwLrgOFq0GlDsphYgoM40nSSGA-s/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguf2fToSP-JYmdRBZWgGyAzl831vfACLSLIrC9p2rqcNrLJEh0SMbnq992mOBVTv1Z_cw4fhwBi2SuWIn4gKA4y9c8QhWwj6G4ETQgTEjQ7MaZ6OGAwLrgOFq0GlDsphYgoM40nSSGA-s/s1600/17.jpg" height="295" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More ceremony (that's Charisse's dad on the left).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJSVDxbNoo7IjsAYltz7Aw1HLjor4H3k0UHJ3VzE0XaJhNFWB0QTqiMvM-Du7LBrETqpXJ52RG7m6mbydhiKl9L5yQJkEF4ceXGecMVuGejFyOGZuHjf4ykqydJsJw1ehCkv3jd-qnxxA/s1600/19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJSVDxbNoo7IjsAYltz7Aw1HLjor4H3k0UHJ3VzE0XaJhNFWB0QTqiMvM-Du7LBrETqpXJ52RG7m6mbydhiKl9L5yQJkEF4ceXGecMVuGejFyOGZuHjf4ykqydJsJw1ehCkv3jd-qnxxA/s1600/19.jpg" height="272" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking the pledge with a sword.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga6N51_HVQpfNFG3kzMnp1yQwOo83CdMV5UaX_Xb_ufV2gePr3sZjInoZ6JMB49iwYHL-JqSPTJq4fZz1sEyVK0oYrNDq5YpYW3c9zn6qG1q8yroqEb4LKKxwSK71-lfR1aG8kG99ISPw/s1600/23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga6N51_HVQpfNFG3kzMnp1yQwOo83CdMV5UaX_Xb_ufV2gePr3sZjInoZ6JMB49iwYHL-JqSPTJq4fZz1sEyVK0oYrNDq5YpYW3c9zn6qG1q8yroqEb4LKKxwSK71-lfR1aG8kG99ISPw/s1600/23.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The new family.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLeMOr_9vClg8RpY815UyvfH1KmX0IFc_WxX8Y3rikniAdFnR73k_ydsmgFqs97W2-c2ux0zEAQYncpSQXMdCBJcHHrEgNYQqrbCts2OX-oZ3s3zWhYgJ3FlYcA7JroTrTNLI29Mu1U4c/s1600/26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLeMOr_9vClg8RpY815UyvfH1KmX0IFc_WxX8Y3rikniAdFnR73k_ydsmgFqs97W2-c2ux0zEAQYncpSQXMdCBJcHHrEgNYQqrbCts2OX-oZ3s3zWhYgJ3FlYcA7JroTrTNLI29Mu1U4c/s1600/26.jpg" height="400" width="363" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A procession of Vikings.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYexWc6N5MA-oBBotj9hzx6qwapzjLJ18BIRjJgAf_qHG2OcBaxrOBNvmaIq-M5qxxR6KqZ48gvCZdXaLeB8o3xd__-mB0nAJ3AKjT88WkJezwc3z1SornKPuU31Ys49pzdCUSjqGM_Z0/s1600/24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYexWc6N5MA-oBBotj9hzx6qwapzjLJ18BIRjJgAf_qHG2OcBaxrOBNvmaIq-M5qxxR6KqZ48gvCZdXaLeB8o3xd__-mB0nAJ3AKjT88WkJezwc3z1SornKPuU31Ys49pzdCUSjqGM_Z0/s1600/24.jpg" height="380" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating their friends.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbHT1kKM_68On1tQUi9-3CKQpY0_AhGh4MfQ2M93gg-m6gzcqJkDe6FkhUznMitTXv1VFaTaTYVgkN4Q-YqXm8SXTdu7rLlICu6yzoRijHCxHPq_Qo29sGsdL-OQh8YiV0e8DE8hYO_OY/s1600/28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbHT1kKM_68On1tQUi9-3CKQpY0_AhGh4MfQ2M93gg-m6gzcqJkDe6FkhUznMitTXv1VFaTaTYVgkN4Q-YqXm8SXTdu7rLlICu6yzoRijHCxHPq_Qo29sGsdL-OQh8YiV0e8DE8hYO_OY/s1600/28.jpg" height="400" width="257" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The exotic bride.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLzt2Y4N3pX4oCkXtMsjnshKjuLFvVw6NqBMFweHWV5gxkaHk1L20fnqNHjqIA13bOuZtCtn4I3YW8BMAEDkXQ1bmX84OjVoNMTCP-anWmwAuIRJO6bY8wFceB9Eo1xtc6AdL8SX8sr-4/s1600/29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLzt2Y4N3pX4oCkXtMsjnshKjuLFvVw6NqBMFweHWV5gxkaHk1L20fnqNHjqIA13bOuZtCtn4I3YW8BMAEDkXQ1bmX84OjVoNMTCP-anWmwAuIRJO6bY8wFceB9Eo1xtc6AdL8SX8sr-4/s1600/29.jpg" height="398" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The noble groom.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMVxUbSYD3q4w1pk0RrIKYn9EzMC7rXrlzRi7dp7fzMINvy6AxWP6pTRMsalD09lC9PSgZpRNvCBv6-pCmUpn_DIqdHwjfh0P-_g5C7VKBWBLyVbaExalah5pdEzfzgKiHt2rursxzd3k/s1600/33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMVxUbSYD3q4w1pk0RrIKYn9EzMC7rXrlzRi7dp7fzMINvy6AxWP6pTRMsalD09lC9PSgZpRNvCBv6-pCmUpn_DIqdHwjfh0P-_g5C7VKBWBLyVbaExalah5pdEzfzgKiHt2rursxzd3k/s1600/33.jpg" height="400" width="231" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charisse takes a moment for herself.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMNfDxAoMvcGu11doozElHs9GspUWn8cm73ydcVlQ6iFUsTSHXWHXn6l7eyc5GFYjoE1bylBaCQKb7pVgnSDrB1AgM1gPPBfqkwhcXSEiCWw7rIXGj2owmXR-2cmqwF9xE58DB-_etulk/s1600/39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMNfDxAoMvcGu11doozElHs9GspUWn8cm73ydcVlQ6iFUsTSHXWHXn6l7eyc5GFYjoE1bylBaCQKb7pVgnSDrB1AgM1gPPBfqkwhcXSEiCWw7rIXGj2owmXR-2cmqwF9xE58DB-_etulk/s1600/39.jpg" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anne looking all pretty.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="fbPhotoCaptionText"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-36816437051485466502014-12-20T18:18:00.002-05:002014-12-20T20:42:00.420-05:00Photo: Frosty and Santa and Leah and Meah on the Market<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9JGIMeHB51yyZM0D3nCEhuhLoLbsASHhNtobFp1Fvw85VE1uAtXsskUb1K73Lo_6CgiYaP_a1VdabKcDQFjXHtf_i8T5PT8P7t_E4J1CL9zTr_hik6A4Si8JlbA1GJztQi3YCXK-KzU/s1600/christmas-leah-meah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9JGIMeHB51yyZM0D3nCEhuhLoLbsASHhNtobFp1Fvw85VE1uAtXsskUb1K73Lo_6CgiYaP_a1VdabKcDQFjXHtf_i8T5PT8P7t_E4J1CL9zTr_hik6A4Si8JlbA1GJztQi3YCXK-KzU/s1600/christmas-leah-meah.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
This is Leah Weiss, Frosty the Taubman Showman and me(ah) downtown on Roanoke City Market today. Leah was over from Lynchburg and we had a grand time running all over the city. That's my ever-present camera in my left hand. I left the photo disk at home, so we had to use Leah's iPhone for the pix. Damn.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AFk2OL7Eo4PFfVvmsa0lrDp3jQxxy8Za02vvoW4g9YknAYtepCiCIpzhwpXBSqv4TQIEZ2fVKEi83EJ2ff6sWUWzVUFGWfenTZSK0o2s2veyOsTZ6Zfv1_SiHnh_cP6n2S9x7T2NUak/s1600/christmas+2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AFk2OL7Eo4PFfVvmsa0lrDp3jQxxy8Za02vvoW4g9YknAYtepCiCIpzhwpXBSqv4TQIEZ2fVKEi83EJ2ff6sWUWzVUFGWfenTZSK0o2s2veyOsTZ6Zfv1_SiHnh_cP6n2S9x7T2NUak/s1600/christmas+2014.jpg" height="326" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my buddy the Saint.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-45676950505400641102014-12-20T09:46:00.001-05:002014-12-20T09:46:41.905-05:00Gratitude: Looking for Confederate Flag Compromise<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjETrg_z7_bIO8IL4Me_Bg3GK2H2Di6CAjeLtbg3-Ati-tjBhjyMHr1D7NEVhWU0m3zxt4Opa5mkuGZaIsxcQmrL09Um98HDHM3LBem0EWj_YRO5-_Kw0_OgeQ39RZ8M2vaDg8Grybhj8/s1600/flag+confederate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjETrg_z7_bIO8IL4Me_Bg3GK2H2Di6CAjeLtbg3-Ati-tjBhjyMHr1D7NEVhWU0m3zxt4Opa5mkuGZaIsxcQmrL09Um98HDHM3LBem0EWj_YRO5-_Kw0_OgeQ39RZ8M2vaDg8Grybhj8/s1600/flag+confederate.jpg" height="222" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of several similar flags of the Confederacy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Today, I am grateful for:<br />
<br />
Efforts to reach a compromise on the Christmas parade flap that I wrote about last week. City Manager Chris Morrill and Downtown Roanoke Inc. Executive Director Tina Workman, along with Roanoke's city attorney have been studying ways to solve the complex dilemma.<br />
<br />
In this case, the primary problem is freedom of speech/expression vs. a citizen's right not to be assaulted with insulting symbols--among other things.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX2CP-K4BoevZYJMEyL1nNSmhM8aOKRZccOlHHFh02wEsBQuLg1Y0fzlgPIgCj8PahCuLe7SHPLrBK1x8S3wDbine0UKHwDuAwVQsfJEoi3gRNFTARXVohxC9-w01Lgx698zv3TMt2yDI/s1600/flag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX2CP-K4BoevZYJMEyL1nNSmhM8aOKRZccOlHHFh02wEsBQuLg1Y0fzlgPIgCj8PahCuLe7SHPLrBK1x8S3wDbine0UKHwDuAwVQsfJEoi3gRNFTARXVohxC9-w01Lgx698zv3TMt2yDI/s1600/flag.jpg" height="320" width="206" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Southern Cross: Confederate battle flag.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This came up because the Sons of Confederate Veterans displayed their Southern battle flag with unnecessary (in my opinion) prominence during the recent Roanoke Christmas Parade. There were other issues with the parade, as well (overt militarism in a Christmas parade and a shocking display of overt commercialism, especially by sponsor Haley Toyota), but the SCV Confederate battle flag display is probably the most serious and the most difficult to solve.<br />
<br />
My suggestion to the organizers was for DRI to make the parade by invitation only and to set up a series of standards for entries that would be in keeping with the season of peace and joy--and not of guns, war and commercialism. DRI is a private entity and can do that. If the city ran the parade, it could not.<br />
<br />
SCV would be invited to take part, but its display would need to be about Christmas, and not fighting. Christmas was celebrated by lonely, young, homesick
soldiers in both camps during the Civil War and it would be historically
accurate to portray the soldiers--with their wives and girlfriends, who often visited them in camp, sitting at a fire singing and perhaps enjoying a meal. There would need be no flags and no guns.<br />
<br />
The display of the Stars and Bars is the most controversial issue and the one the SCV has battled localities over for years. It is the equivalent of the Swastika to many in our culture and its public display--and tacit approval by the organizers--is a slap in the face of those who believe it to be a symbol of the approval of slavery. Sons can tell us all they want that the Civil War had nothing to do with slavery, but that is simply not true on any level (a look at the various articles of secession by states will verify this), but even if it were, the symbol has made its mark, especially for our African-American citizens who have the right not to be insulted in a Christmas parade.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6PW5tJ7V9OMOLsIH-vNKPkmQlr9gwhkKjcLX43yZyOldbKU6eDNpaAKcVD8b6Tap5vQpIaYsNvwGKuJYhTUMA0WR4gIc6AvFnxmklSGH_jSippcsB9rfImie3CZC7V8GlVPITZjUpjGI/s1600/confed+christmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6PW5tJ7V9OMOLsIH-vNKPkmQlr9gwhkKjcLX43yZyOldbKU6eDNpaAKcVD8b6Tap5vQpIaYsNvwGKuJYhTUMA0WR4gIc6AvFnxmklSGH_jSippcsB9rfImie3CZC7V8GlVPITZjUpjGI/s1600/confed+christmas.jpg" height="400" width="330" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stonewall Jackson's army's Christmas.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I would suggest that the Sons of Confederate Veterans have a very good alternative to the Southern Cross in the Flag of the Confederacy (which is the Stars and Bars, though the Cross is often incorrectly referred to as such), the official flag of that temporary nation. The Southern Cross was an impromptu creation (leading eventually to 180 different designs for various armies), drawn up to differentiate between two armies whose flags looked alike.<br />
<br />
The Southern Cross came out of the First Battle of Manassas when Southern Gen. Pierre G.T. Beauregard (a flamboyant figure and noted actor before the war), cited the confusion in the similar flags. In a letter to Gen. Joseph Johnston, Beauregard said that "we should have <i>two</i> flags — a <i>peace</i> or parade flag, and a <i>war</i>
flag to be used only on the field of battle — but congress having
adjourned no action will be taken on the matter — How would it do us to
address the War Dept. on the subject of Regimental or badge flags made
of red with two blue bars crossing each other diagonally on which shall
be introduced the stars ... We would then on the field of battle know
our friends from our Enemies."<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-autogenerated2_3-2"><a href="http://www.civilwar.com/resources/313-flags/150182-confederate-flag-history.html#cite_note-autogenerated2-3"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span></span></span></a></sup> <br />
<br />
The Flag of the Confederacy is not dramatically different from the American flag, as you can see in the top photo. The fact, though, is that the Flag of the Confederacy does not come with the baggage of the Stars and Bars. Many people who are not Civil War buffs don't know its importance. Flying this flag--like a Christmas campfire float--would give the SCV historical accuracy and a Christmas theme all at the same time. It makes sense unless they are so entrenched and unwilling to accommodate the needs of others that they simply won't agree to compromise. And, of course, that would bring up another whole set of problems.<br />
<br />
But let's hope they will agree to a small compromise to show how grown up they are in an increasingly divided country. That would truly be a cause for gratitude. An effort is being made to find an acceptable solution and for that, at least, I am grateful.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b></b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTB-DZ3S1iaGeHl1qhWoTwhf1BQNA9-BQCeKP9IxLsqeHy2BLQL-f0Ikj3j0nFbCMfNoWHNf4uBqrc01FtIVUbY3wxz1FxeEJk-vtInl1Dyk-KuXw9GQd-GFwB-40Kxt2WVdvODnnhdyo/s1600/flag+confederacy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTB-DZ3S1iaGeHl1qhWoTwhf1BQNA9-BQCeKP9IxLsqeHy2BLQL-f0Ikj3j0nFbCMfNoWHNf4uBqrc01FtIVUbY3wxz1FxeEJk-vtInl1Dyk-KuXw9GQd-GFwB-40Kxt2WVdvODnnhdyo/s1600/flag+confederacy.jpg" height="400" width="384" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Confederate soldiers riding under the national flag.<b><br /></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(Drawing: <a class="site" href="http://r.search.yahoo.com/_ylt=AwrB8piLiJVUiioAceijzbkF;_ylu=X3oDMTBxNG1oMmE2BHNlYwNmcC1hdHRyaWIEc2xrA3J1cmwEaXQD/RV=2/RE=1419114764/RO=11/RU=http%3a%2f%2fcivilwardailygazette.com%2f2011%2f12%2f25%2fno-rest-and-little-celebration-for-christmas-1861%2f/RK=0/RS=O0hnX6prZYRji0Yb0BDgdfbtohY-">civilwardailygazette.com</a>; painting: </b></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><a class="site" href="http://r.search.yahoo.com/_ylt=AwrB8o8.iZVUKX8AwCejzbkF;_ylu=X3oDMTBxNG1oMmE2BHNlYwNmcC1hdHRyaWIEc2xrA3J1cmwEaXQD/RV=2/RE=1419114942/RO=11/RU=http%3a%2f%2fwww.jenrand.com%2f%3fp%3d415/RK=0/RS=82OB0u1nW2gAEj4tV5lwJRxIHEI-">www.jenrand.com</a>)</b></span><br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-88168503150656619262014-12-19T10:47:00.002-05:002014-12-19T10:47:54.094-05:00Executions Declining in the U.S.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIv13l2EjNdiOtcA4Szcc1Ua-gG6A2CrykmxOYGc_r7ojl6ZeUIkL5qJTJVnGKiUWmVL1z96f-TwIRNX8ffNiY8r38sH7Me0n4LFOgp9j8bLmeJgsUhU3XTx-VdT5t3PyD3Vr1e92uhY/s1600/death+penalty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidIv13l2EjNdiOtcA4Szcc1Ua-gG6A2CrykmxOYGc_r7ojl6ZeUIkL5qJTJVnGKiUWmVL1z96f-TwIRNX8ffNiY8r38sH7Me0n4LFOgp9j8bLmeJgsUhU3XTx-VdT5t3PyD3Vr1e92uhY/s1600/death+penalty.jpg" height="192" width="400" /></a></div>
"When almost all of the executions are in so few of the states, you have
to question the relevancy of the death penalty in the country whole." -- Richard Dieter, Death Penalty Information Center.<br />
<br />
A new report from the center (story <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/12/18/dpic-report_n_6347688.html" target="_blank">here</a>) tells us that the number of executions in the U.S. is dramatically reduced with just seven states carrying out state-sponsored murder during the past year and three of those--Texas, Missouri and Florida, all bright Republican red--responsible for 85 percent of them. That's the lowest number in 40 years.<br />
<br />
In 1999 there were 98 U.S. executions and in 2014, there were 35.<br />
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A Pew Research Center poll shows 55 percent of Americans favoring the death penalty (when life in prison without parole was not presented as an alternative), down from 67 percent in 2011. Opposition was 37 percent. When life without parole is figured in, most Americans oppose execution. Republicans, the "pro life party," heavily favors public killing.<br />
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The story reports, "Exonerations of people who were wrongly convicted, the availability of
prison terms of life without parole and the cost of capital trials and
the appeals process also are factors in the persistent decline." There were seven exonerations and some high-profile cases where deaths were so gruesome that even hardcore death penalty advocates flinched.<br />
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California has 745 prisoners with death sentences hanging over their heads, by far the most of any state, including Texas where the death penalty seems to rank only behind football as public entertainment. California, despite the sentences, has killed three people since 2006 and 13 in the past 35 years. The land of fruits and nuts seems to have little stomach for sanctioned murder.<br />
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Virginia first killed a citizen by execution in 1608 and has carried out a national-high of more than 1,380 since, according to Wikipedia. In February, 1951, Virginia mass murdered five black convicts, four of them for allegedly raping and killing a white woman (the Martinsville Seven) and another in an unrelated murder. Two more of the rape convicts were killed later. The last execution for rape in Virginia took place in 1961.<br />
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Virginia killed eight inmates between 2009 and 2013 and none in 2014. It killed one in 2013.<br />
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The least amount of time between conviction and execution occurred in Texas where a woman was killed after eight years and the longest took place in Florida, as well, where a 62-year-old man was murdered after waiting 30 years.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-45982284019106030112014-12-19T08:51:00.001-05:002014-12-19T08:51:38.242-05:00A Few Small Suggestions for the Jock Interview<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiayk_iegpBzpmrCV_WDTK2EKv6ll7GUD2pdmlacU0Tk_mpdWwMjYpyaAz7MnjVOLqmjM3R-Wna7wazyYhQRxDDLxS5N8VSzOz8zRqC2W2A1yxDaAy8dX8C3rtKkx4z6Pkdipw5q1VO258/s1600/josh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiayk_iegpBzpmrCV_WDTK2EKv6ll7GUD2pdmlacU0Tk_mpdWwMjYpyaAz7MnjVOLqmjM3R-Wna7wazyYhQRxDDLxS5N8VSzOz8zRqC2W2A1yxDaAy8dX8C3rtKkx4z6Pkdipw5q1VO258/s1600/josh.jpg" height="224" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Josh Dobbs being interviewed: "The ball's not that heavy."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I left sports writing a long time after 17 years of banging it out it because, frankly, I was bored. After leaving, it was five years before I could go to a sports event and enjoy it. I had sat stone-faced and glass-eyed for a long time, watching the same people do the same things, interviewing marginally intelligent coaches and man-child athletes who gave the same answers to my stupid questions.<br />
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The only real respite in the last few years of that gig was placing an emphasis on girls and women playing sports. They were smarter, fresher, more enthusiastic and much less predictable than their male counterparts. Title IX had not yet been passed, so their games remained on the margins and their numbers were small. They weren't playing for publicity because there was little to be had. They played because they loved it and that was refreshing to see.<br />
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I still follow some sports for reasons that are not clear to me and I still read sports stories that glaze my eyes and respond to those stories like I was watching "Mystery Science Theater."<br />
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I just finished watching a video interview with the University of Tennessee's quarterback, Josh Dobbs, an intelligent young man who majors in aerospace engineering and has close to a 4.0 average. Still, he has the sports interview disease. He is a running quarterback, so when he was asked if the large number of carries of the ball he had at the end of the season wore him out, he gave the same tired answer half the QBs in the country would have given.<br />
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I would much prefer he had said, "No, I didn't get tired. The ball isn't heavy. Now, if you'd been carrying the ball--with that gut you're wearing--my guess is it would have been a chore, but I'm 22 years old and in peak physical condition, which is why <i>you</i> are interviewing <i>me</i> instead of the other way around."<br />
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He was asked about his bowl opponent, Iowa, a team with a mediocre record from a mediocre conference and after deeming the Hawkeyes "a great team," said it "plays downhill." A good reporter would have followed that response with a probing question: "How does the playing downhill thing work? The field has always looked pretty level to me. Is somebody bending a rule by bending the field here?"<br />
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UT has injuries among its receivers and when asked about those, Dobbs reported that several players had "stepped up" and I couldn't quite figure what they'd stepped up to. My guess is that they're doing what they're supposed to do: catching passes. "Stepped up" was used by the sports writers asking questions seven times during the interview. "You guys" was used so often by the writers that I lost count at 14. "Guys" by itself seemed to be in nearly every sentence.<br />
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So, I'm still sitting here watching, hoping to find some gem somewhere and, as always, I don't. But I keep watching. That's a disease. A 12-step program--Sports Interview Anonymous--may be next.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-55804321990226615302014-12-17T17:56:00.002-05:002014-12-17T17:56:52.831-05:00Long, Tall Walkin' Man<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8baua7qKCzG3Gl2tek-07xAMHyPBGitVEzR4P0CMkFC2I63AYpDIOcTPsFTLh5tNGwDbQ_GN3ifg_Fl9l3NTrynT7VcNbJ1Al98KnxgGdgNw2mozB1n2w_UT7DPxNbpxvWriKaIgXTVc/s1600/IMG_6309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8baua7qKCzG3Gl2tek-07xAMHyPBGitVEzR4P0CMkFC2I63AYpDIOcTPsFTLh5tNGwDbQ_GN3ifg_Fl9l3NTrynT7VcNbJ1Al98KnxgGdgNw2mozB1n2w_UT7DPxNbpxvWriKaIgXTVc/s1600/IMG_6309.JPG" height="400" width="271" /></a></div>
Long winter walks take on a new meaning in the late afternoon when the longest part of the walk is the shadow of the walker. That's me at the left, shooting a photo as I approach the Wasena Bridge from Vic Thomas Park in Roanoke. Took it just before sundown today.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3077386656187888581.post-49859032241491278532014-12-16T15:05:00.003-05:002014-12-16T15:08:08.074-05:00Lunch with the Boys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKzMoADI-Dx5exU_o9rSPxM47MTtlHRkMVwzSPf2dA7jnvjpQuwcvBAEvrxIgcpUvDK_a6mqIlcPqIAPRUh4_pbIDIg5F8TjARkMz3mLNmiTM5-RFGO1ST9-3S24_1_bHYuAqI2ofdOE/s1600/boys+lunching+color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKzMoADI-Dx5exU_o9rSPxM47MTtlHRkMVwzSPf2dA7jnvjpQuwcvBAEvrxIgcpUvDK_a6mqIlcPqIAPRUh4_pbIDIg5F8TjARkMz3mLNmiTM5-RFGO1ST9-3S24_1_bHYuAqI2ofdOE/s1600/boys+lunching+color.jpg" height="312" width="640" /></a></div>
This was lunch over in Salem today with some of my favorite people, almost all of them writers, editors or both.<br />
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Front center and far left are Roland Lazenby and Mike Ashley, who have just collaborated on a fine book (which got a few signings at lunch today) titled 'Best Regrets,' about a VMI football coach who made Keydet football matter in the '50s and '60s.<br />
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I'm to Mike's right and to the right of me are John Montgomery, who was the GM of the Blue Ridge Business Journal when I was editor, and two down (in blue) is Rob Fries, who designed the BRBJ. Howard Wimmer, at the right, is a former Roanoke Times sportswriter. Jim Bain is the good looking guy in the middle/back.<br />
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When you eat with these guys three things are guaranteed: You get enough food (OK, yes, I'm eating salad); you laugh a lot; Mike has some kind of sports trivia challenge. Today is was naming ex-athletes who had continuing parts on television series.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04217963475185024609noreply@blogger.com0