To Gyre and Gambol: July 2012

31 July, 2012

Mighty Finn - Update #4

Holy onesies, fans - it's been a month since the last update! Time to see what's happening.

The Mighty Finn has been visiting his grandparents the past few days on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. It's been wonderful, of course, and this follows a week at his home for his Christening. He likes to squeal in happiness, is geting pretty good at sitting with some stability - at least until he gets excited and gravity sort of takes over.

Maybe a few photos to update you further and in his own words:

TGB

You've heard of Joe Cool - well, I'm Finn Cool.
And I'm lookin' for some action.

Auntie is always available for a swing. Swoosh.

Toes, giraffes, pacifiers ... doesn't matter.

I'll find away to suck on it.

They took me to this pretty church last week where

they had a very big bowl of water. After some pretty songs,

this guy in a way fancy outfit started pouring water on my head.

Once, twice, three times. Then he dried me off.
Can you say affusion? 'Cause I can't.

Here we are after the drying - auntie and mommy.

Come on. Admit it. I'm just cute.

Waiting for our table at a really sweeeet dining establishment.

Frasca in Boulder, CO.

I'm learning to sit by the table so no one has to hold me,

Mommy got this new backpack. I can't wait for our first hike.

On the Outer Banks -

and Finn Cool is checking out the chicks.

Life is good.

30 July, 2012

{picture perfect} Asylum

Inmate's view from within Old Main at the

1843 New York State Lunatic Asylum at Utica

Digital photograph. ©Thomas G. Brown. 2005

29 July, 2012

God Made Us

A little girl was sitting on her grandfather's lap as he read her a bedtime story. From time to time, she would take her eyes off the book and reach up to touch his wrinkled cheek.

She was alternately stroking her own cheek and then his again. Finally she spoke up, "Grandpa, did God make you?" "Yes, sweetheart," he answered, "God made me a long time ago."

"Oh," she paused, "Grandpa, did God make me too?" "Yes, indeed, honey," he said, "God made you just a little while ago."

Feeling their respective faces again, she observed, "God's getting better at it, isn't he?"

Author Unknown

28 July, 2012

Tree

Almost every day I photograph this tree near my office window - always from the same angle, the same zoom, and about the same time of day. This is my favorite image from the past week.

TGB

To view a video set to music that contains 135 images taken over 12 months, click here.

For the 2010 collection of images, click here.
For the 2011 collection of images, click here.
For the 2012 collection of images, click here.

27 July, 2012

{What He Said} 1: Cosby

Cosby Chides Again

Dr. Cosby is speaking about one particular segment of America, but I think his words can be applied appropriately regardless of race.

TGB

They're standing on the corner, and they can't speak English. I can't even talk the way these people talk: Why you ain't, Where you is, What he drive, Where he stay, Where he work, Who you be ...

And I blamed the kid until I heard the mother talk. And then I heard the father talk. Everybody knows it's important to speak English except these knuckleheads. You can't be a doctor with that kind of crap coming out of your mouth. In fact, you will never get any kind of job making a decent living.

People marched and were hit in the face with rocks to get an Education, and now we've got these knuckleheads walking around. The lower economic people are not holding up their end in this deal. These people are not parenting. They are buying things for kids. $500 sneakers. For what? And they won't spend $200 for Hooked on Phonics.

I am talking about these people who cry when their son is standing there in an orange suit. Where were you when he was 2? Where were you when he was 12? Where were you when he was 18? And how come you didn't know that he had a pistol? And where is the father? Or who is his father?

People putting their clothes on backward. Isn't that a sign of something gone wrong? People with their hats on backward. Pants down around the crack. Isn't that a sign of something? Isn't it a sign of something when she has her dress all the way up and got all type of piercings going through her body?

What part of Africa did this come from? We are not Africans. Those people are not Africans. They don't know a thing about Africa ... With names like Shaniqua, Taliqua, and Mohammed and all of that crap. And all of them are in jail.

Brown or black versus the Board of Education is no longer the white person's problem. We have got to take the neighborhood back. People used to be ashamed. Today a woman has eight children with eight different 'husbands' -- or men or whatever you call them now.

We have millionaire football players who cannot read. We have million-dollar basketball players who can't write two paragraphs. We, as black folks, have to do a better job. Someone working at Wal-Mart with seven kids, you are hurting us. We have to start holding each other to a higher standard. We cannot blame the white people any longer.

Dr. William Henry 'Bill' Cosby, Jr., Ed.D.

26 July, 2012

{this memory} 59

This is the story behind last Monday's {this moment}.

Canastota, New York - in the living room of a small A-frame I rented for a year, my first year as a professor. The little girl is Genie, my goddaughter. Her father was one of my best friends from high school, and her mom joined our circle sometime during college although we all went to different universities.

This was in the winter of 1975-76, and the trio had come for a visit. Lots of prompts here. The coffee table was an antique oak round dining table that my father had shortened and refinished. The coffee mugs were purchased from a favorite potter while I was in graduate school in Maine. Betsy's laughter was everpresent and most infectious. Charlie, the engineer, is clearly giving way to much thought to the construction of the Mouse Trap. My two dogs are nowhere in sight - probably banished for interfering in the game.

I still have the 8 foot toboggan I purchased so we could all fly down the hill across the street. We did, and I think we all may still have bruises.

So many wonderful memories - I am a fortunate man.

TGB

24 July, 2012

Reaping What We've Sown

Last Thursday night, I flew into Denver International Airport just before midnight. It's a beautiful airport, fairly new, and about eight miles northwest of Aurora.

It took us a bit to make our way to baggage, gather our belongings, and meet the limo we had arranged for our late night 30 minute run into Denver. We were probably on the road by by 12:30 am, if not a bit earlier.

Easy ride. The traffic was very light, and I was enjoying watching the lights of stores and streets as our eagerness to see the Mighty Finn intensified.

At some point we passed about four miles north of the now famous theater. What would never have occurred to me was that at very moment, James E. Holmes would have already donned his gas mask and toted his AR-15 assault rifle, his Remington 12-gauge shotgun, and his 40-caliber Glock handgun into the theater. Now a dozen are dead and another fifty-nine are wounded with eleven still in critical condition.

At some point one simply runs out of words. In Little Glock-ers, I reacted to the Arizona shootings in January 2011 of Gabby Giffords and many others, a post I republished last January. There was a related post They Shoot New Yorkers, Don't They? in early 2011.

In sanity's not included, I attacked the same issue from a different perspective.

When will we grow up? When will we learn that the answer to violence is not to get even more guns out there? When will there have finally been sufficient killing?

TGB

23 July, 2012

{this moment} 59

A Monday ritual. A single image - no words - capturing a moment from the past - sometimes a place with many moments - but somewhere along my life's Journey over which I wish to linger a bit and savor each treasured aspect of the memories it evokes. If you are moved or intrigued by my {this moment}, please leave a comment. On Thursday in a companion ritual called {this memory}, I'll share the story of this moment.

{this moment}

{this moment} is a ritual copied and adapted from cath's wonderful blog ~just my thoughts. She, in turn, borrowed it from Pamanner's Blog. Check out their blogs, and if you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your {this moment} in the comments for each of us to find and see.

TGB

22 July, 2012

The Substitute Organist

The minister was preoccupied with thoughts of how he was going to ask the congregation to come up with more money than they were expecting for repairs to the church building. He was, therefore, annoyed to find that the regular organist was sick and a substitute had been brought in at the last minute.

The substitute wanted to know what to play. "Here's a copy of the service," he said impatiently. "but you'll have to think of something to play after I make the announcement about the finances."

During the service, the minister paused and said, "Brothers and Sisters, we are in great difficulty. The roof repairs cost twice as much as we expected, and we need $4,000 more. Any of you who can pledge $100 or more, please stand up."

At that moment, the substitute organist played the National Anthem ...

... and that is how the substitute became the permanent organist!

Author Unknown

21 July, 2012

Tree

Almost every day I photograph this tree near my office window - always from the same angle, the same zoom, and about the same time of day. This is my favorite image from the past week.

TGB

19 July, 2012

{poetically plagiarized} 5: Frost

Hoping this cools you off a bit.

TGB

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

   Whose woods these are I think I know.
   His house is in the village, though;
   He will not see me stopping here
   To watch his woods fill up with snow.

   My little horse must think it queer
   To stop without a farmhouse near
   Between the woods and frozen lake
   The darkest evening of the year.

   He gives his harness bells a shake
   To ask if there's some mistake.
   The only other sound's the sweep
   Of easy wind and downy flake.

   The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
   But I have promises to keep,
   And miles to go before I sleep,
   And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost, 1922

New Hampshire

17 July, 2012

Missing Extremities

Sprinkled throughout my various posts are references to a rather remarkable medical history. Those references are sometimes quite specific but are just as likely to be vague. I am not the least bit reluctant to share that history, but when doing so, I hope there is something for my readers to learn. Other than learning a bit about me, I'm not sure there is a life lesson for you today.

In Minority Report I described my left arm and hand as hanging "limp without movement, without sensation, without even kinesthetic awareness of existence." This is no exaggeration, but neither is it the result of a stroke, the belief of most who notice. At Christmas of 1969, I was diagnosed with Stage II Hodgkin's Disease and in January and February of 1970 underwent radiation therapy.

A year later I had a swollen lymph node surgically removed only to find the disease had rebounded. That was followed with more radiation therapy in the fall of 1971. I also had more radiation therapy in the spring of 1972, the fall of 1972, and the spring of 1973 as I chased that damned illness around my body. I never had chemotherapy.

That's a lot of radiation, and most of it was delivered to my upper left quadrant, especially the left axilla. Although I have been disease free since 1973 (yay), in the early 1980s I began to notice some weakness in my left arm. All that radiation had scarred the nerves of my left brachial plexus, and additional scar tissue was slowly accreting. It became a vicious circle. As I lost sensation, I would do less with my left arm and hand which in turn accelerated the loss of muscle - so I could do less and less. Today my left arm isn't good for much other than filling in my sleeve and rather poorly maintaining my sense of symmetry.

I had already achieved at the highest levels in my profession before this disability became very noticeable. I never encountered the barriers and discrimination others often do, but as the atrophy has become more obvious, others are today more likely to offer assistance, usually awkwardly, and almost always assume I have had a stroke.

People, however, are funny about what they say or do. When I have off-handedly commented that no one touches my left hand - literally or by reference, those close to me have reminded me that I do. I usually agree but then add I don't really notice when my right hand reaches to help my left complete what it cannot. For example, if I want to reposition my left hand from wherever gravity has held it, I must pick it up with my right and move it. Such motions have become automatic and unconscious.

It is as if my hand is missing, and I no longer miss it. It doesn't exist for me. If I awaken during the night, I must feel around with my right to find my left. Is it uninjured? Is it under the covers? Is it on top of the covers? Did the dog take it?

I am left at this point to wonder if I actually do touch my hand. Really. Normally when we touch ourselves, there are two points of sensation. When I touch my left arm or hand, there is only one - that of my right hand. So can one ever touch that which seems no to exist? It's probably a question I should try to answer someday, but it's not a simple question. Some days, I am not even certain exactly what the question is.

TGB

16 July, 2012

{picture perfect} 2: Gateway Arch

Early morning in late May, 2005.

Rising sun reflected on the eastern side.

If you can see a thin dark line near the upper edge but on the western side and opposite the sun, you're looking at the observation windows at the top.

The ride up is just weird, by the way. It's like riding in a dryer without the spin. You're seated in a small round car that is free to rotate as you ascend; that way your feet and the floor they are on remain underneath you - a good thing.

TGB

15 July, 2012

More Children And The Bible

"The following statements about the Bible were written by children and have not been retouched or corrected (i.e., bad spelling has been left in.)"

In the first book of the Bible, Guinesses, God got tired of creating the world, so he took the Sabbath off.

Adam and Eve were created from an apple tree.

Noah's wife was called Joan of Ark because Noah built the ark, which the animals came to in pears.

Lot's wife was a pillar of salt by day, but a ball of fire by night.

The Jews were a proud people and throughout history they had trouble with unsympathetic Genitals.

Samson was a strong man who let himself be led astray by a Jezebel like Delilah.

Samson slew the Philistines with the axe of the Apostles.

Moses led the Hebrews to the Red Sea, where they made unleavened bread, which is bread without any ingredients.

The Egyptians were all drowned in the dessert.

Afterwards, Moses went up to Mount Cyanide to find the ten commendments.

The first commandment was when Eve told Adam to eat the apple.

The seventh commandment is "Thou shalt not admit adultery".

Moses died before he ever reached Canada.

Then Joshua led the Hebrews in the battle of Geritol.

The greatest miracle in the Bible is when Joshua told his son to stand still and he obeyed him.

David was a Hebrew king skilled at playing the liar. He fought with the Finkelsteins, a race of people who lived in Biblical times.

Solomon, one of David's sons, had 300 wives and 700 porcupines.

When Mary heard that she was the mother of Jesus, she sang the Magna Carta.

Then the three Wise Guys from the east arrived and found Jesus in the manager.

Jesus was born because Mary had an Immaculate Contraption.

St. John, the blacksmith, dumped water on his head.

Jesus enunciated the Golden Rule, which says do one to others before they do one to you.

He also explained that "Man does not live by sweat alone".

It was a miricle when Jesus rose from the dead and managed to get the tombstone off the entrance.

The people who followed Jesus were called the 12 decibles.

The epistles were the wives of the apostles.

One of the opossums was St. Matthew who was also a taximan.

St. Paul cavorted to Christianity. He preached the holy acrimony, which is another name for marriage.

A Christian should have only one spouse. This is called monotony.

Authors Unknown

from THE LAUGHLINE RELIGIOUS JOKES INDEX

14 July, 2012

Tree

Almost every day I photograph this tree near my office window - always from the same angle, the same zoom, and about the same time of day. This is my favorite image from the past week.

TGB

13 July, 2012

Helter Swelter

It’s hot - in Central New York, mind you. Yesterday it was 90. Today it supposed to be 91. They’re predicting 90 for tomorrow. That’s well above average (80˚F) for us, but I don’t mind.

I grew up in weather like this. And without air conditioning, thank you. I’m no longer used to it though, and it certainly puts a strain on my already weakened cardio-vascular system. That I did feel today. So what! I dislike the cold even more (see As Cold As It Gets). You’ll never hear me complain about the heat – not very loudly anyway - although I might whimper a tad as it beats my body into submission.

It may be because of the summer of 1969. I had been assigned to a guided missile frigate that was completing what was known as refresher or underway training. This was an extended period of training used to get a crew back up to speed after an long period (about a year) in the shipyard for overhaul. So I flew south to join my ship, the USS Belknap, DLG-26 (later CG-26) - 547 feet and 8957 tons of United States Navy steel. And, yes, there are some things you never forget. We practiced this response in case we were ever asked a particular question: "While it's true we have the capability to carry nuclear weapons, I can neither confirm nor deny their presence on board." Speaking of heat!!!

I arrived in June and spent the next two months with her in wonderful Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. Yes, that's the same place of today's current events. Other than the Officers' Club, it doesn’t have much going for it. It’s also on the desert end of the island, and what I promise you is that it is the last place you want to be during the weeks that surround the summer solstice.

If my memory serves me well, you could count on the temperature being well over 100 every day, and the humidity was not far behind. I suppose even then you could have secluded yourself in some air conditioned space – except for one thing, the training runs. Many of them were designed to simulate warfare situations during which ventilation systems are shut down. Nooooooooooo. Pretend you're in a sealed tin can sitting in the sun and you'll get the idea.

So … do I complain about the heat? Nope. It’s positively balmy here.

Not long after I left the ship, she joined the US 7th Fleet for duty off the coast of Viet Nam. If you want to visit her, she’s at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean about 250 miles east of Norfolk, Virginia where she was ingloriously sunk after being used for target practice.

TGB

12 July, 2012

{poetically plagiarized} 4: Silverstein

Where The Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

Shel Silverstein, 1974

11 July, 2012

White Buffalo

Rod MacDonald is a wonderfully talented American folksinger and songwriter - and a fraternity brother from our University of Virginia days in the late1960s. Described by one critic as "… one of the most politically and socially aware lyricists of our time, Rod MacDonald has been entertaining audiences worldwide for over 30 years with his timeless ballads, modern folk songs, satirical commentaries, wry humor, and diverse music genres.” In 2012, he released his latest and ninth album entitled Songs of Freedom.

White buffalo are considered sacred signs by several Native American tribes and have great spiritual importance to them. They are frequently used in prayer and other religious ceremonies. Rod spent a period of time with the Oglala Sioux Indians and developed a close friendship with Frank Fool's Crow, a ceremonial chief and medicine healer. The album "White Buffalo" is a tribute to the chief's influence on Rod's thinking.

TGB

They say you've got to lose before you can win.
They say you've got to choose before you can give in.
And you've got to cut loose to get back again.
And it's a long way back home.

They say you've got to fall before you can land.
They say you've got to crawl before you can stand.
And you've got to lose it all to get what you planned.
And it's a long way back home.

And it's a long way, a long way back home
When you're standing on some place you've never known.
And I might see you where the rivers flow.
Like me you're looking for White Buffalo.

They say you've got to die before you can live.
They say you've got to cry before you can give.
And you've got to say goodbye to get back again.
And it's a long way back home.

They say you've got to seed what you're going to grow.
They say you've got to need what you're going to let go.
And you've got to believe what you're going to know.
And it's a long way back home.

And it's a long way, a long way back home
When you're standing on some place you've never known.
And I might see you where the rivers flow.
Like me you're looking for White Buffalo.

So I say to you farewell for we will meet again.
In the hottest flames of hell I could only call you friend.
And when you hear that final bell, do not ask whose round you're in.
Till you've found your way back home.

10 July, 2012

Poetically Playful

I wrote this as a young man growing up in Virginia Beach and have always liked the imagery. Overlaying it on this image (not mine) is more recent.

TGB

09 July, 2012

{picture perfect} عرق الشبي

Today I begin a new series promoting photographic images of high quality from my family, from close friends, or more typically myself. These will alternate somewhat randomly with the {this moment} images I usually post on Mondays.

TGB

The dunes are عرق الشبي (Erg Chebbi)
in the Western Sahara of Morocco.

08 July, 2012

Through the Eyes of a Child

Bible stories - as a child might tell them.

Creation
In the beginning, which was close to the start, there wasn't anything except God, darkness, and some gas. The Bible says, "The Lord, thy God, is one," but I think He has to be much older than that.

Anyway, God made the world, and then He said, "Give me some light." Somebody gave it to Him. He split an atom and made Eve. Adam and Eve didn't wear any clothes, but they weren't embarrassed because God hadn't invented mirrors yet.

Adam and Eve sinned by eating one bad apple, and they were driven out of the Garden of Eden. I'm not sure what God drove them in because He hadn't invented cars yet either.

Adam and Eve's son, Cain, hated his brother as long as he was Abel. After a while, all of the first people died, except Methuselah who lived to be like a million years old.

Noah
The next important person was Noah. He was a really good guy, but one of his kids was a Ham. Noah built a big boat in his back yard and put his family and a lot of animals in it. He asked his neighbors to join them, but they said they would have to take a rain check.

Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph
Next were Abraham, his son Isaac, and his grandson Jacob. Esau was Jacob's brother, but Jacob was more famous because Esau sold him his birthmark for some pot roast. Jacob had a son, Joseph. Joseph wore a really loud sports coat.

Moses
Moses was the next important man. His real name was Charlton Heston. Moses led the Israel lights out of Egypt because of the bad Pharaoh. God sent ten plagues on the Egyptians. Some of the plagues were mice, frogs, bugs, lice, and no cable.

Every day in the desert, God fed the Israel lights some manicotti. He gave them His "Top Ten" commandments. They were things like: don't lie, don't cheat, don't dance, don't smoke, and don't covet your neighbor's stuff (whatever that means). He also told them to humor their fathers and mothers.

Joshua
Moses' best helper was Joshua. He was the first person to use spies. He fought the battle of Geritol. That's when the fence fell down on the town.

David
David came after Joshua. They made him king after he killed a giant with a slingshot.

Solomon
One of David's sons was called Solomon. He had like 300 wives and 500 porcupines. They told us in Sunday School that he was a really wise man, but that doesn't sound too wise to me.

Author Unknown

07 July, 2012

Tree

Almost every day I photograph this tree near my office window - always from the same angle, the same zoom, and about the same time of day. This is my favorite image from the past week.

TGB

06 July, 2012

Gentle Intentions

Henri Nouwen has suggested that only once in a while do we meet a gentle person - one who is attentive to our strengths and weaknesses, who delights in simply being with us, who listens carefully, looks tenderly, and touches with reverence, and who knows that true growth requires the warmth that is the nature of nurture.

I must be fortunate for I have known several who were as he describes. I'd like to believe that in their presence I became the same, but I won’t presume to think I am always a gentle person. They taught me, however, that to be so is the Way. It's active, holistic, and worthy of our embrace.

How genuinely remarkable it would be if more of us could become reliably gentle people - how much better the Journey would be. I want to believe it is possible and definitely hope that I can be so. The sincere delight and profound gratitude I have felt as the recipient encourages me to be that way for others. It's a goal to which we should all aspire.

TGB

05 July, 2012

{this memory} 58

This is the story behind last Monday's {this moment}.

Ah ... Orono, Maine - in front of the small home I rented for four years while earning a doctorate in psychology. These are my parents who visited me twice in those years although my father came up from Virginia one other time.

This time was in November of 1971. You can tell it's early in winter because the snow has yet to accumulate significantly. You could count on snow on the ground from early November to April, and once it fell, it did not melt - no January thaw.

Their other visit was in August of 1975 when I was hooded and graduated from UMO.

So many wonderful memories - I am a fortunate man.

TGB

04 July, 2012

Mighty Finn - Update #3

Holy pacifier, kids - it's been a month since the last update! That's almost a quarter of his life.

The Mighty Finn has been visiting his grandparents the past few days. It's been wonderful, of course. The changes are so obvious - especially as his personality begins to emerge. Nothing compares to eliciting that sustained laugh of which he is now capable. I laugh - he laughs - we laugh.

Maybe a few photos to update you further and in his own words:

TGB

Here I am with my paci. I'm finally gaining
some control of this marvelous bit of plastic.
Whoever invented this little thing is a genius.

And I'm really getting into literature. Go figure.
I'm kind of partial to the classics - like Brown Bear here

Of course, sometimes I just like to think about life.
It's hard though - the last 19 weeks have been quite a whirlwind.

I enjoy going to cookouts, but all the
ladies at this one were too old for me.

I really like it when Mom takes me to some
tony little bistro for al fresco dining. She's the best.

That's about it for now, but I'm putting a spell
on you so you come back and visit again. Okay?

03 July, 2012

A Second Anniversary Of Sorts

It still seems quick. It's been a two years and two days since I started this blog. My first post was on July 1 of 2010.

I had begun writing these sorts of posts in the fall of 2009 simply as a way of thinking as I attempted to sort through some of life's intricacies. Most of those were shared with only a very few people. As they accumulated, however, I decided to compile them for easier access using Blogger, but that effort was kept relatively private as well.

Readers (and listeners) convinced me I had something worthwhile to share, especially as it related to health and disability but also about the value of a positive attitude on life. To Gyre and Gambol was born out of that, and most of the typically much briefer posts of the private blog have been reworked, combined, or simply expanded for this blog. My first four posts, however, derived from things I had written for other purposes. In fact, the oldest was composed when I was a teenager.

By the numbers, it strikes me as a quite a ride, but I have no comparison. I have posted about 600 times although I have since deleted some and republished some after revision. The blog has almost passed the 80,000 page view mark (The first year saw only 13,000), and those visits have come from 165 (71 after Year 1) countries across all of the continents but Antarctica. This includes all of the US states, all of the Australian states and territories, and most of Canada (no sign of Yukon or Nunavut yet).

When I shared those numbers with a friend, I was asked what my goal was when I started. I didn't have one. I was writing primarily for myself and for the expected small handful of friends and family who might read my musings. That was it.

Today, however, I think what is most important to me are the fellow bloggers whose friendship and encouragement I have enjoyed immensely. Having become thoroughly discouraged by the writing ability of the average American college undergraduate, I am positively thrilled to be in the company of so many talented authors, especially my two dozen colleagues at Personal Bloggers Are Us. They are, for the most part, hesitant to call themselves writers or authors, but that's what they are. They should embrace the labels.

Do yourself a favor and check out their sites. I assure you that you will find more than a few to which you will eagerly return, repeatedly.

TGB

02 July, 2012

{this moment} 58

{this moment}

TGB

01 July, 2012

A Star in the East?

A woman took her 16-year-old daughter to the doctor. The doctor said, "Okay, Mrs. Jones, what's the problem?"

The mother replied, "It's my daughter, Debbie. She keeps getting these cravings, and she's putting on weight. Plus, she is sick most mornings."

The doctor gave Debbie a good examination, then turned to the mother and said, "Well, I don't know how to tell you this, but your Debbie is pregnant - about 4 months, would be my guess."

The mother said, "Pregnant?! She can't be. She has never ever been left alone with a man! Have you, Debbie?"

Debbie said, "No mother! I've never even kissed a man!"

The doctor walked over to the window and just stared out. About five minutes passed, and finally the mother said, "Is there something wrong out there doctor?"

The doctor replied, "No, not really. It's just that the last time anything like this happened, a star appeared in the east and three wise men came over the hill. And I'll be darned if I'm going to miss it this time!"

Author Unknown

31 July, 2012

30 July, 2012

29 July, 2012

28 July, 2012

27 July, 2012

26 July, 2012

24 July, 2012

23 July, 2012

22 July, 2012

21 July, 2012

19 July, 2012

17 July, 2012

16 July, 2012

15 July, 2012

14 July, 2012

13 July, 2012

12 July, 2012

11 July, 2012

10 July, 2012

09 July, 2012

08 July, 2012

07 July, 2012

06 July, 2012

05 July, 2012

04 July, 2012

03 July, 2012

02 July, 2012

01 July, 2012

Most Viewed Posts of the Last 30 Days

Most Viewed Posts - All Time