For some unknown reason, my 13 year old daughter told me that I was just like the Dad of one of the characters in a book she was reading. Really I said, thinking that I was probably a dashing hero who had saved his daughter from some imminent peril. So she goes and gets the book to READ me the excerpt about 'what a great guy I am. I could hardly wait. Well here it is:
[I suppose I should set it up a bit. The book is called 'Animal Attraction' Slow down there people...its about a girl who gets a summer job at a theme park. Her job is to dress up in a beaver suit and entertain the kids.] Well, anyway, here is the excerpt that she read to me:
If this keeps up, I'll need a psychiatrist by Labor Day.
Today's my first day of swim lessons, so I'm going to hit the pool early and start on Coach Latham's workout routine.
I stumble into the kitchen and pour myself a bowl of Honeycombs. I'm so out of it, I don't even notice my Dad sitting at the table eating his breakfast.
"Look who's up," he says, all bright and cheery. "Aren't you a busy little beaver?"
My Dad lives to tell bad jokes. He considers it his gift to the world. I realize that I have to nip this in the bud or it will go on all summer long.
I wave my cereal spoon at him with as much menace as I can manage. "That's not funny, Dad."
"What? You don't like the little beaver wordplay?"
"No, I don't"
"Kind of gnaws at you, doesn't it?"
"Stop it, Dad."
"Maybe you should lodge a complaint."
That one almost gets me. I'm trying not to laugh on principle, but he doesn't make it easy. He's a very funny guy. I overcome the urge to give him my toughest look. "That's enough."
"So you're not going to laugh?" he asks.
"No, I'm not."
"Dam!" He says.
"Beaver dam. I get it, Dad. Still not funny." As I say this, I finally break and start to laugh. Some of my milk shoots up my nose, which is just what he wanted.
"Now I can go to work," he says as he finishes his last piece of toast. He gets up, leans over, and gives me a kiss on the forehead. I love you, Janey."
Well, so much for being the hero! I guess I'm the King of bad jokes. And though you may think I would be dejected about the reading, I was actually a little proud and amused. Nothing like tormenting a 13 year old with bad jokes and puns. And to most of you who know me...you can just imagine me filling those shoes. Glad to do it.
So if my tale seems a little flat to you, don't let it gnaw at your inside for too long. I'm sure I'll be able to sink my chompers into some funnier material soon.
Grins
Excerpt from: Animal Attraction by Jamie Ponti
Monday, December 29, 2008
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Dad's Birthday!
Would have been my Dad's Birthday today! Sad to lose your parents too soon. Love ya Dad - Arthur Don Gardner December 28th
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
My Momma's 88th
My mother would have been 88 today. Happy Birthday Mom! Eva Mae Coulson, Born December 24, 1920 in Kansas. Your family is thinking of you, and all the Birthday presents you missed out on cause your birthday was on Christmas Eve.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Being Old...ain't so bad!
In this age of new technology, it seems a person has a hard time keeping up with the ever-changing technology and the associated gadgets. And I would be on the list of those who had bought into a gadget or two. I'm as lazy as the next guy who likes something that will make a task easier, or a thing faster, or a movie more entertaining. There is a lot of cool stuff out there. Imagine, if you put the technology in contrast to what we have today compared to what they had say, 100 years ago in 1908...whoa!
So it seems to follow that 'newer is better'! Or that the old does not work as well as the new! Technology is moving so fast that manufacturers actual make electronic items cheap, actually designing things like cell phones to only last two years; because they know you'll want a newer model before two years is up. Try explaining that rational to your Grandparents.
Now it may be true that technology is changing so fast that it forces you to buy a new computer every few years in order to keep up. I'm not convinced its always better. Is Vista better than Windows for example? No... I'm not here to debate that issue. I can say that at my work, every time they update our software with some new application...it ain't always better. Sure we may gain some new gadget or functionality, but invariably we lose something also.
Ever heard the expression: 'They don't make em like they use to'? There is sound reasoning for that kind of thinking! They don't make anything like they use to; unless it's some old guy keeping a trade alive. Everything is thinner, or lighter, or done a different way these days..."Where you been old timer?"
I'm here, just trying to make sense of it all.
And its not just technology! They don't make families like they use to. Where everybody comes home and eats a family meal. Where children respect their parents, or teachers, or elders. Where a man's word was truthful and good. Where people waited to have sex till they were married. Where a boy would not dream of talking back to his father.
When you start looking at the big picture, perhaps the 'old is better than the new'!?
I recently became a father again at an age that is older than the age of most fathers these days. I know a lot more than most of them. I've learned a thing or two along the way. And I'll teach some better value's than most of them. I hope to raise a good man.
So...maybe being old ain't such a bad thing! Maybe being a little old fashioned is a good thing. I can say that in the old days, they built a better man. They built a better family. They built a better home, and they built a better car. The list is long. And had there been such a thing as a computer, they probably would have built a better computer. One that would last. And the very idea, the very idea, to create a virus that would go forth and maliciously destroy someone else's property...for no reason whatsoever...would never even cross the mind of a man.
Yes, I'm old. And damn proud to say so! There's a lot to be said for the good ole days!
"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."
Theodore Roosevelt
So it seems to follow that 'newer is better'! Or that the old does not work as well as the new! Technology is moving so fast that manufacturers actual make electronic items cheap, actually designing things like cell phones to only last two years; because they know you'll want a newer model before two years is up. Try explaining that rational to your Grandparents.
Now it may be true that technology is changing so fast that it forces you to buy a new computer every few years in order to keep up. I'm not convinced its always better. Is Vista better than Windows for example? No... I'm not here to debate that issue. I can say that at my work, every time they update our software with some new application...it ain't always better. Sure we may gain some new gadget or functionality, but invariably we lose something also.
Ever heard the expression: 'They don't make em like they use to'? There is sound reasoning for that kind of thinking! They don't make anything like they use to; unless it's some old guy keeping a trade alive. Everything is thinner, or lighter, or done a different way these days..."Where you been old timer?"
I'm here, just trying to make sense of it all.
And its not just technology! They don't make families like they use to. Where everybody comes home and eats a family meal. Where children respect their parents, or teachers, or elders. Where a man's word was truthful and good. Where people waited to have sex till they were married. Where a boy would not dream of talking back to his father.
When you start looking at the big picture, perhaps the 'old is better than the new'!?
I recently became a father again at an age that is older than the age of most fathers these days. I know a lot more than most of them. I've learned a thing or two along the way. And I'll teach some better value's than most of them. I hope to raise a good man.
So...maybe being old ain't such a bad thing! Maybe being a little old fashioned is a good thing. I can say that in the old days, they built a better man. They built a better family. They built a better home, and they built a better car. The list is long. And had there been such a thing as a computer, they probably would have built a better computer. One that would last. And the very idea, the very idea, to create a virus that would go forth and maliciously destroy someone else's property...for no reason whatsoever...would never even cross the mind of a man.
Yes, I'm old. And damn proud to say so! There's a lot to be said for the good ole days!
"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."
Theodore Roosevelt
Thursday, November 20, 2008
The Quaking Aspen
Once again we find the signs of Autumn all around us. I regret to say that I have not had the pleasure of driving up into the mountains this year to view the scenic discoloration, or coloration, depending on your point of view about the high country foliage. I truly miss the Colorado Aspen trees. To quietly hike through a stand of quaking Aspen trees in the Fall Season is a pleasure every soul should experience in their life. At least once! And if you partake that one time, I have no doubt, there will be another. To stand in the wild as the gentle mountain breeze passes over the skin on your face, and to hear the unique sound of the Aspen’s quaking all around you…It’s literally a gift from God. If you’ve never had the pleasure, I challenge you to treat yourself next Fall!
Of course, by next Fall you’ll have long since forgotten about the ramblings of Skinton Clinton and his crazy blog…still…the gift of the quaking Aspen trees will be out there none the less. The Quakies are not the only signs of Fall, though they are clearly at the top of my list. This years tranquil beauty was marred by the unending barrage of political rhetoric and campaign ads and media. It was like an airplane flying low over my house while I was watching my favorite TV show.
The retail ‘signs of the times’ are quite visible wherever one travels about town (With the exception of the afore mentioned Quakie’s; another excellent reason to take the trip). Halloween and Christmas decorations are on display in stores and yards in every community. These two opposites of holidays are in such competition for the almighty (devalued) dollar that Thanksgiving seems to get lost in the flurry. I suppose it’s a good thing we like to eat, or we might forget to be thankful altogether. I plan to eat, and I will be thankful.
So, whether you’re thankful for the food, or the holidays, or the Quakie’s…take the time to enjoy some of the ‘best things in life’! They will be different for each of us. I will miss not getting to see my son, my daughter in-law, and my grand daughters for Thanksgiving. I have not seen them since October 2007. The commercialism of the holidays seems so trivial when weighted next to our family. But I will enjoy a relaxing day with my wife, my daughter, and my son. So if a gentle mountain breeze should cross your path this week; imagine that nature’s calling out…to you…on an Autumn day. A grove of trees is tightly bound, on the side of a mountain steep. And you hear the quaking leaves…converse, in a quiet mountain peace. Like a family gathered for Thanksgiving feast…may the breezes of the Quakie’s bring you happiness and peace.
Happy Thanksgiving
Thursday, October 23, 2008
October 23rd
Grace was bored the other day, and decided (though I declined the offer) to read to me the things that had happened throughout history on October 23rd (My Birthday). I had heard some of it before... So, as she read, I listened to the list as she read along...listing numerous bad things that had happened on that day in history. I kept thinking, wow, a lot of bad stuff happened on my birthday. Lots of battles began on this day, rebellions, beheadings, etc etc. Gloom and doom, Great. She continued...the beginning of the great depression in 1929. Nice timing. Oh, and you'll love this, in 1940 Walt Disney released the movie 'Dumbo'! How appropriate for my birthday! Ha. She kept reading, and I kept saying "Great, That's Great, Great". Then, out of the blue, I heard one I have never heard before: Zane Gray died in 1939.
"What?" I said.
Zane Gray died on October 23rd, 1939. Ouch. That one really hit me below the belt. My mother's favorite author died on my Birthday. I'm surprised I never heard that tidbit before. Perhaps Mom never knew. If she did she never said anything. My Mother loved Zane Gray books. I don't exaggerate when I say she read every one of his books a hundred times. She loved to read them. She owned most of them and would always talk about how descriptive his writing was. How she could just picture what he was describing. On one vacation, she drove through Oak Creek Canyon in Arizona or New Mexico, just so she could see one of the area's he often wrote about. I knew a lot about Zane Gray from listening to my Mom all those years. They even have a motel on Catalina Island called the Zane Gray Motel. He evidently liked Catalina. Each room in the motel was named after a book...in place of room numbers. So, the avid reader could stay in the 'Riders of the Purple Sage' Room. Interesting, but it was still a slap in the face that he died on my Birthday. It left me kind of sad, thinking of my Mother. On the other hand, my Mother loved Zane Gray, and I have no doubt she loved me too. And if she ever even knew that he died on October 23rd, she never mentioned that to me...but of course, she wouldn't. I'm not sure the listings of 'Things that happened on this Day in History' is such a good record to read. All the stuff that makes history is the bad stuff. I guess that is the nature of man. Anyway, Happy Birthday self! And though I could never really get into reading Zane Gray books (and I tried), I can tell you my Mother enjoyed countless hours of entertainment reading his novels. Ironic that I always aspired to being a writer...but my brain don't work good nuff to put that miny salyiabbles together in one place. But I can dream. Zane Gray: May you rest in peace. And for all of you out there...read a Zane Gray book, and think of my Mother Eva Mae as you read it. She would like that.
"What?" I said.
Zane Gray died on October 23rd, 1939. Ouch. That one really hit me below the belt. My mother's favorite author died on my Birthday. I'm surprised I never heard that tidbit before. Perhaps Mom never knew. If she did she never said anything. My Mother loved Zane Gray books. I don't exaggerate when I say she read every one of his books a hundred times. She loved to read them. She owned most of them and would always talk about how descriptive his writing was. How she could just picture what he was describing. On one vacation, she drove through Oak Creek Canyon in Arizona or New Mexico, just so she could see one of the area's he often wrote about. I knew a lot about Zane Gray from listening to my Mom all those years. They even have a motel on Catalina Island called the Zane Gray Motel. He evidently liked Catalina. Each room in the motel was named after a book...in place of room numbers. So, the avid reader could stay in the 'Riders of the Purple Sage' Room. Interesting, but it was still a slap in the face that he died on my Birthday. It left me kind of sad, thinking of my Mother. On the other hand, my Mother loved Zane Gray, and I have no doubt she loved me too. And if she ever even knew that he died on October 23rd, she never mentioned that to me...but of course, she wouldn't. I'm not sure the listings of 'Things that happened on this Day in History' is such a good record to read. All the stuff that makes history is the bad stuff. I guess that is the nature of man. Anyway, Happy Birthday self! And though I could never really get into reading Zane Gray books (and I tried), I can tell you my Mother enjoyed countless hours of entertainment reading his novels. Ironic that I always aspired to being a writer...but my brain don't work good nuff to put that miny salyiabbles together in one place. But I can dream. Zane Gray: May you rest in peace. And for all of you out there...read a Zane Gray book, and think of my Mother Eva Mae as you read it. She would like that.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Our Family Lullaby
All the kids in our family grew up hearing our Mom sing us a lullaby. I doubt if any of us could sing all the words, but we knew the tune, we knew many of the lyrics, and we could, and did, sing it to our children.
My brother Jim and I were talking about how we had each looked on the internet for the song and were unable to find the song or the lyrics. Rose got on the internet and found it in about 5 minutes. What a treasure it was for me to hear it and to see all the words. Thank you Rose.
Turns out it was a #1 hit for Perry Como in 1947. It makes since that this was a lullaby that Mom would sing. You see, she became a mother in 1947. This was a #1 song at the time. Then came Carole etc. Regardless, I wish it was possible for you to enjoy hearing it...as much as I enjoyed it. The only thing better would have been to hear my Mother sing it one more time.
Chi-Baba, Chi-Baba (My Bambino Go to Sleep)
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
"Chi-Baba, Chi-Baba (My Bambino Go to Sleep)" is a popular song.
It was written by Mack David, Jerry Livingston, and Al Hoffman and published in 1947.
The song was popularized by Perry Como in 1947. The recording was released by RCA Victor Records as catalog number 20-2259. The record first reached the Billboard magazine charts on May 30, 1947 and lasted 12 weeks on the chart, peaking at #1. The flip side of the record, "When You Were Sweet Sixteen," was also a big hit, reaching #2 on the chart. [1]
Other recordings were made by Peggy Lee, by Blue Barron, and by The Charioteers about the same time.
Many a year ago in old Sorrento
a certain ditty was quite the thing
Whenever a mother rocked her baby in Sorrento
this little ditty she used to sing:
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
All the stars are in the skies ready to say "goodnight"
can't you see your doll is sleepy, too?
Close your drowsy little eyes, mama will hold you tight
while she sings a lullaby to you:
Oh, chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
( Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa, and chi-lawa )
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah ( la goombah! )
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
( Chi, chi, chi-baba! )
Chi, chi, chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah ( la goombah! )
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
All the stars are in the skies ready to say "goodnight, goodnight"
can't you see your doll is sleepy, too?
Close your drowsy little eyes, mama will hold you tight
while she sings a lullaby to you, ever so sweetly!
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah ( la la goombah! chi-baba! )
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino . . .
go to sleep!
(I took the audio off...If you want the audio let me know.)
My brother Jim and I were talking about how we had each looked on the internet for the song and were unable to find the song or the lyrics. Rose got on the internet and found it in about 5 minutes. What a treasure it was for me to hear it and to see all the words. Thank you Rose.
Turns out it was a #1 hit for Perry Como in 1947. It makes since that this was a lullaby that Mom would sing. You see, she became a mother in 1947. This was a #1 song at the time. Then came Carole etc. Regardless, I wish it was possible for you to enjoy hearing it...as much as I enjoyed it. The only thing better would have been to hear my Mother sing it one more time.
Chi-Baba, Chi-Baba (My Bambino Go to Sleep)
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
"Chi-Baba, Chi-Baba (My Bambino Go to Sleep)" is a popular song.
It was written by Mack David, Jerry Livingston, and Al Hoffman and published in 1947.
The song was popularized by Perry Como in 1947. The recording was released by RCA Victor Records as catalog number 20-2259. The record first reached the Billboard magazine charts on May 30, 1947 and lasted 12 weeks on the chart, peaking at #1. The flip side of the record, "When You Were Sweet Sixteen," was also a big hit, reaching #2 on the chart. [1]
Other recordings were made by Peggy Lee, by Blue Barron, and by The Charioteers about the same time.
Many a year ago in old Sorrento
a certain ditty was quite the thing
Whenever a mother rocked her baby in Sorrento
this little ditty she used to sing:
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
All the stars are in the skies ready to say "goodnight"
can't you see your doll is sleepy, too?
Close your drowsy little eyes, mama will hold you tight
while she sings a lullaby to you:
Oh, chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
( Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa, and chi-lawa )
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah ( la goombah! )
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
( Chi, chi, chi-baba! )
Chi, chi, chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah ( la goombah! )
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
All the stars are in the skies ready to say "goodnight, goodnight"
can't you see your doll is sleepy, too?
Close your drowsy little eyes, mama will hold you tight
while she sings a lullaby to you, ever so sweetly!
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
An' chi-lawa kook-a la goombah ( la la goombah! chi-baba! )
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino go to sleep!
Chi-baba, chi-baba, chi-wawa
my bambino . . .
go to sleep!
(I took the audio off...If you want the audio let me know.)
Thursday, October 2, 2008
What is the manly thing to do?
We went to town the other day. The Big City of Boise. The wife and daughter are avid readers. Me? Not so much! But they wanted to stop at Barnes and Noble and look for some books. So we did. Now, they wanted to go and search for their books, and so I said go ahead, I'll just take the baby and his car seat and find a place to sit and wait for you all to find your books. So I headed toward the back, hoping to find a less populated area to sit in case Ethan decided to start squawking...as he is sometimes known to do. And, sure enough, I found a bench at the back of the store by the magazine rack and it was perfect as there was hardly anybody around. I sat Ethan on the bench and straddled the bench facing him and was browsing a book I seen sitting on a nearby rack. I would occassionally check Ethan, but he was being good and not making any noise. Well, after a while, I looked up and scanned the area and noticed that several men had entered the magazine area and were looking at the magazines. Well, there I was sitting on the bench with a baby and all the other men were looking at Sports Illustrated and American Hunter and Motorcross etc. Suddenly I felt a little out of place. There were no women in the area, and certainly no infants. There I was sitting on the bench reading a poetry book and watching the baby. At first I felt a little out of place...thinking I should be up there looking at the newest edition of Macho Man Monthly. But I didn't. I just looked at my handsome little man and threw him a kiss and went about my business. Really, what could be more Macho than being a father to your son. Knowing that he is totally dependent on his mother and father to take care of him and meet his needs.
Ethan is an awesome little man. I love him.
Ethan is an awesome little man. I love him.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
My Good Friend Jim Hartman
PUBLISHED: Thursday, July 27, 2006
James Christian Peter Hartman
Dec. 2, 1956-July 19, 2006
James Christian Peter Hartman, age 49, of Gulfport, MS, formerly of Mt. Pleasant, died July 19, 2006, in a plane crash.A memorial service will be held Sunday,
July 30th at 2 p.m. at Sacred Heart Catholic Church with Father Robert Byrne and Father Thomas McNamara co-officiating.
Visitation will be Saturday from 5 to 8 p.m. at Lux Funeral Home with a remembrance
service beginning at 7 p.m. Visitation continues at the church on Sunday from 1 p.m.
until the service begins.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations be made in Jims memory to Sacred Heart Church, 302 S Kinney, Mt. Pleasant, MI 48858. Jim was born Dec. 2, 1956, in Mt. Pleasant, the son of Earl and Caroline (Millar) Hartman.
He was a real-estate developer, an accountant by trade, and an entrepreneur. He was known for his honesty, integrity, sense of adventure and his love of music, flying, and traveling. He lived his creed of getting the most of every day. He will be greatly missed by his family and many friends.
Jim was the beloved husband of Amanda Baucum Hartman and the adoptive father of their boxer, Sophie. He is also survived by his brother, Earl (Sharon) Hartman of Mt. Pleasant; sisters, Julie (Don) Klein of Grand Rapids, Linda Hartman of Allegan, Jessica (Bill) Janego of Owosso, and Marjorie (Doug) Kik of East Lansing; his mother-in-law, Margaret Martin Baucum; and brothers and sisters-in law, Karen Scholdberg, Perry (Lisa) Baucum, Malinda (Dan) Lammon, and Leslie Johnson; 23 nieces and nephews and their spouses; and 26 grand-nieces and grand-nephews.
He was preceded in death by his parents, Earl and Caroline Hartman, to whom he was
devoted.
I didn't find out about his death until two years after it happened. I will miss him, and it's a little strange to think that he is no longer out there to contact. Jim was a good friend.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Time Decimater
Wow. One of the bad things about going through an old box of pictures is that you find old pictures of yourself. Ahh, the days when I was thin and handsome, and yes, had a moustache. And Troy...younger, thinner, and more handsome, and taller too. (He couldn't grow a moustache) He just had to beat me at everything. Truth known...I was a better basketball player...I just couldn't spell HORSE. Anyway, here is a little photo I found for ya'alls amusement. Grins!
Hoop Machine! Bah Humbug
Hoop Machine! Bah Humbug
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Deep abandoned well
Well, If you've checked...you've noticed that Clint really doesn't have any deep thoughts. The 'well of deep thoughts' is evidently dry (for me anyway). Actually, I've been kinda busy with the baby thing. Perhaps I will find the time to start adding some shallow thoughts to this blog one day soon. Perhaps... work my way up to a deep thought.......get it? Up vs. deep? Oh never mind!
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Painful Poem for Graciela
Our daughter Grace, went in today,
To have four teeth removed.
'Twas something that she needed done
To have her smile improved.
There was no doubt she was concerned,
Yet she tried to be so strong.
Though deep inside I'm sure she felt...
The Doctor must be wrong.
Though she was scared and dreading it,
She tried not to be weak.
But now and then most quietly...
Her eyes would sometimes leak.
The deed was done with cruelty
By a Doctor 'Old and Mean'!
And a sadder face on Graciela...
Had never yet been seen.
We brought her home and laid her down,
She was in sooo much pain.
We hoped the blood that she would drip...
Would fail to leave a stain.
Dad would try to make her laugh,
And then her smile would show.
But not too long - we'd see again...
Her tears begin to flow.
It was a sad day for us all
We each put forth a tear.
When we were forced to see the pain...
Of our poor daughter dear.
But one day we will look at her
And see a perfect smile...
Then, we'll know that it was worth,
This sad and painful trial!
Love, Dad
To have four teeth removed.
'Twas something that she needed done
To have her smile improved.
There was no doubt she was concerned,
Yet she tried to be so strong.
Though deep inside I'm sure she felt...
The Doctor must be wrong.
Though she was scared and dreading it,
She tried not to be weak.
But now and then most quietly...
Her eyes would sometimes leak.
The deed was done with cruelty
By a Doctor 'Old and Mean'!
And a sadder face on Graciela...
Had never yet been seen.
We brought her home and laid her down,
She was in sooo much pain.
We hoped the blood that she would drip...
Would fail to leave a stain.
Dad would try to make her laugh,
And then her smile would show.
But not too long - we'd see again...
Her tears begin to flow.
It was a sad day for us all
We each put forth a tear.
When we were forced to see the pain...
Of our poor daughter dear.
But one day we will look at her
And see a perfect smile...
Then, we'll know that it was worth,
This sad and painful trial!
Love, Dad
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