tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70682190950527161822024-03-14T11:06:43.719-07:00Mayor of Chappell Hill, "Ex-Officio"Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-74564072458746566902010-09-01T20:08:00.000-07:002010-09-13T17:26:05.588-07:00A MOSQUE AT WHAT COST?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxqsqjQJzbwYg9nCuOL57UmF22K7hgHnowGy90HMAxarPIAS9g-cOU3JHHsBBepo00JHVY4-2duT9u2o9xhiFzohF9m5OaoPimtCVouR-iTY2XMq09WFVgszUItah9ZX4H6y24grm3Hv6/s1600/Capitol+mosque.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizxqsqjQJzbwYg9nCuOL57UmF22K7hgHnowGy90HMAxarPIAS9g-cOU3JHHsBBepo00JHVY4-2duT9u2o9xhiFzohF9m5OaoPimtCVouR-iTY2XMq09WFVgszUItah9ZX4H6y24grm3Hv6/s320/Capitol+mosque.jpg" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium';">Now, I know this is gonna be a tricky subject...Allah forbid we O-ffend anybody...but sombody's got to say something about this deal. Well, I'm willin' to walk the plank and see what comes up.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">New York City has never been my favorite place. I have not-so-fond memories of a brief trip there sponsored by my highly regarded prep school for students wishing to study Theater. Bein' from Texas and all, it was an extremely uncomfortable experience. The skyscrapers blocked the sky and created intense claustrophobia in me, bein' used to wide, open spaces; I was nearly run down by a yella cab, a near miss on the street by a Frito-Lay truck, and if that weren't enough, my fellow classmates and I were informed most shockingly by a group of pill-hat wearin' ladies at the matinee that us girls were lodged at a house of ill-repute...The Taft. I kinda figured something was weird about that Hotel. Our group was to gather in the lobby each evening and wait for our faculty chaparones to embark on our evening at the theater. We streamed into the lobby waiting area and waited. I noticed there were several men of Syrian descent pacing nervously and jingling the change in their pockets. Back and forth, back and forth and finally I commented to one of my friends, "Man, these guys up here in New York sure are kinda jumpy". I learned later that that whole change jingling thing was a pick-up signal for workin' gals.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">I feel no special need to return to NYC...Home on the Range works fine for me...but that's just me. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">I remember being awakened by a colleague on 9-11 at seven or so in the morning. My frantic friend screamed "Turn on the TV!!!, the Twin Towers !!! Planes!!! Oh my God!!!". Sure-'nuff, a tragedy of untold magnitude unfolded before my bloodshot eyes as I was gripped by what I was seeing. People diving out of skyscraper windows. Shocked, stunned masses covered in ash trying to walk home. Body count rising. Firefighters lost and dead. And in the devasting aftermath, family members posting pictures and descriptions of missing loved ones on a wall. My perspective on life in general changed and I felt as if I had to grow up all over again and fast; try to take away a deeper appreciation of what really matters and really, what doesn't. I remember one of my sisters calling me that same morning wanting to revisit some sarcastic remark I had made to her that still had her irked. I interrupted her rant and quietly said I would get back to her on that, just as soon as they recovered the 2,000 plus dead from the rubble. Her reply? "Oh, yeah, right, you're right".</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">Now, I really don't care what you pray to or for; I've made my individual choice on that matter and, frankly, its my business. But, I gotta say, the whole Mosque endeavor in the BIg Apple bothers me on several levels. First off, its too close to Ground Zero and while I understand the proposed site is private property and the whole freedom of religion thing, it just still doesn't sit right.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">A TV commentator said something that I think I kinda agree with. If Muslims are all about peace and gentleness and all that soft, passive Kleenex stuff, why are they belying that faith by infuriating other people? Should we consider parachuting the Pope off a plane into the wilds of Afghanistan? This is such a hot potatoe, frought with deep-felt controversy, not to mention the down-right resentment of the family members still mourning their lost ones. It smacks! It stinks! There's something wrong here.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">Some radical voices are going so far as to say under their breath Yeah! go ahead, build that thing, pack it full and once you're all in there, we'll blow it up!! A Holo-Mosque. Now that's just not right by any standard. The last thing Ground Zero needs is more bloodshed, more activism, more hate, more tears.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">We need some cooler heads to prevail here because so far it would appear that we, and I mean humanity, are sliding down a razor blade into a pool of rubbin' alcohol. Simple self-destruction. Collective, mass self-destruction. Who have we become, or rather, what have we become???</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">Is this country going to practce religious tolerance? Are the Muslims going to practice peace and passivity? I don't know. What I do know, is last time I checked, ya cut anyone of us open and we all bleed red, the same. I just can't find a comfortable, acceptable position on this. What do you think?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;">Where's John Wayne when we need him most.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f79646; font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #f79646; font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span style="color: red;"><strong><u>SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</u></strong></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f79646; font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f79646; font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">I'll be around.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f79646; font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">The Ex</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f79646; font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f79646; font-family: 'Franklin Gothic Medium'; font-size: small;"><strong><em><span style="color: black;">COPYRIGHT PENDING</span></em></strong></span></span>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-14554915088649951522010-08-21T20:29:00.000-07:002010-08-21T20:29:51.352-07:00BASEMENT WINDOW:<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYy9vOudqI-rmiFHG7Dbt8vE49hPl710bCU93t1WvahJeVdpmnNkGVb5B-KS66EkT-Fu7if3jz-VcTNOqwhw06zDGzBObCRp4mo-qv2TRQZIJU21yGqhhw6PsEO4Ta2YgMTnLirTI83oba/s1600/1111+Tooth+and+Strap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYy9vOudqI-rmiFHG7Dbt8vE49hPl710bCU93t1WvahJeVdpmnNkGVb5B-KS66EkT-Fu7if3jz-VcTNOqwhw06zDGzBObCRp4mo-qv2TRQZIJU21yGqhhw6PsEO4Ta2YgMTnLirTI83oba/s320/1111+Tooth+and+Strap.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">At the risk of dating myself, I am reminded of and old hit by the Fantasics. With appologies to the group, it went something like this:</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">Try to remember</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">The end of September</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">When we were young</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">And love was tender</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">Try to remember</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">And if you remember<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">I was just a callow fellow<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">and life was mellow...."</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: small;">Something like that anyway...but with a little poetic license I suggest we try to remember upcoming November! Life is certainly not mellow nor tender and there's no shortage of callow fellows in D.C.. But a great decision we must render. The Guvmint has been running amock like a bunch of crack-house rats caught in a maze of their own making, scrambling to steal that last piece of by now smelly cheese that was once the American Dream, Land of Opportunity, you know, Liberty and Justice for All and all that Tumbleweed stuff.</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">House and Senate could be on the rails and the fever of the Tea Party is still rising and looming large, rattling the cages of the likes of Pelosi, Reid, Boxer, Dodd, Bayh (or is it Bayh-Bayh?) and that woman from Arkansas whose name, among others, escapes me.<span style="color: #17365d;">But really, they have so much left to do with these baseball pitchers and and players and this whole steroid issue. If they have have time, maybe they can grill Tiger Woods over the coals as well. Your tax dollars at work folks! Used to be it was "throw back the little ones and pan-fry the big ones". Hmm.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: small;">And hopefully, eventually, the head chef at the White House will be polishing up his recipe for humble pie; although I can only visualize somebody trying to push a bite of the pie into the apprpriate mouths as they sit there, lips stubbornly persed and heads darting side to side to avoid the fork.</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">Or, rather, we could follow our illustrious Fair First Lady and just go to Spain! (Okay, so she's<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> not</span><em>exactly, technically "fair...</em>but since when has that had anything to do with anything...kinda like actual citizenship).</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">After all, "the rain in Spain stays mainly on the PLANE!" Presidential plane that is! Surely the taxpayers won't mind another international jaunt on their dime, so long as we appologize on behalf of America for the error of its ways. We got some 'Spainin to do Lucy! Hey! gotta a robe and a ring and some unpronounceable name/title? Well, shoot bang, let me just get down here and bow and fondly stroll with you, hand in hand, through the devilment of the world.</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: small;">One place we do need to go is to the polls in November and try to get this thing out of the ditch. Forget the Dems and Repubs, the donkey and elephant...what we need is an Ox! Hey! that would be a great mascot for the Constitutionalists and the Tea Party! A big strong Ox tp pull us out of the mire. We can at least try with our vote before that right is vaporized as well.</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">My beloved grandfather crawled out of a prison camp in Bataan during WWII, emaciated and terribley inferm with malaria. He survived and ws commisioned inthe field as Lt. Col. He used to sit in his favorite chair with a stoic calmness about him. As kids, we used to get up on his lap and try to get him to smile. He tried hard not to but his eyes always gave him away with a twinkle. Once we got him to smile, we devilishly double-crossed him and began a long if not potentially endless lament of all our troubles; how wrong life had been to us and slighted we felt. "So unfair!!" we wailed through crocodile tears, snickering under our breath all the while. He was on to us and in our mock disbeleif that he didn't care whatsoever, his reply was always the same. "You can't fall out of a basement window."</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: small;">Dare I say this country and our Constitution are most definitely in the basement. The only way out is the voting ballot. Make this a November to Remember. Buckle up, its gonna be a bumpy ride!</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<strong><em><u><span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</span></u></em></strong><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">I'll be around.</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;">The Ex.</span><br />
<span style="color: #17365d; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-size: small;"><strong><u>COPYRIGHT PENDING</u></strong></span></span>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-52661728685427862862010-06-06T19:31:00.000-07:002010-06-06T19:31:03.206-07:00OLD HAT!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrnLezAb1nRhFyoJmm_CiVDoNfpofrJ9hn2Qdx9gsm33r03gG-qSWYSDAkD7KMJawOgbPIYFc69wZBkP0gvNYybHNFGC1Tm2VmwiJyR_SaI-I8rDc5rJ07YN-SJAYz1fZ783G8jlANt8AB/s1600/i_have_a_crab_hat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrnLezAb1nRhFyoJmm_CiVDoNfpofrJ9hn2Qdx9gsm33r03gG-qSWYSDAkD7KMJawOgbPIYFc69wZBkP0gvNYybHNFGC1Tm2VmwiJyR_SaI-I8rDc5rJ07YN-SJAYz1fZ783G8jlANt8AB/s320/i_have_a_crab_hat.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<blockquote><div class="ecxecxecxecxecxhmmessage" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; text-decoration: underline;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></span></span></div><div class="ecxecxecxecxecxhmmessage" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"> </div></blockquote><blockquote><div class="ecxecxecxecxecxhmmessage" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
<strong><em><u><span style="color: #366092; font-size: medium;">GREETINGS FELLOW VILLAGERS!</span></u></em></strong><br />
<span style="color: #366092; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092; font-size: small;">By now, I'm sure the news has cozied up to your ears and you are aware that I am no longer the Mayor of Chappell Hill. (<em>Never fear, there's a twelve step program out there somewhere to help with the withdrawl).</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092; font-size: small;">However, I am most pleased and delighted by my succesor:</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-size: small;">************************************</span><br />
<strong><span style="color: red; font-size: small;">MARY TOM MIDDLEBROOKS</span><br />
<em><u><span style="color: #366092;">****************************************</span></u></em></strong><br />
<strong><em><u><span style="color: #366092;"></span></u></em></strong><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">She sports a vast resume, including President of the Chappell Hill Chamber of Commerce, high-up in the Historical Society, a prof at TAMU teaching teachers how to teach Aggies (a daunting task, to be sure, but that's just the<span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="color: #e36c09;">Longhorn</span><span style="color: #366092;"><span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span>in me...). She's dear person with a impish smile and a tireless spirit.</span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">Just before the bidding began and the folding chairs had finally stopped squealing across the floor to find their spot for the evening, a felt a little tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Mary Tom, twinkle in her eye and a friendly smile and she said to me,"I'm bidding against you, just so you know". Kinda like being warned by Glenda, The Good Witch of the South, smooth as silk, but very serious. I'm thinkin' "Bring it on!".</span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">I made my way to the podium and thanked the Fire Fighters,collectively and individually, and had these fine men stand in front of the podium facing the crowd. I gave my speech and at the shank said it was only proper the CHVFD have a mascot Dalmation Dawg to ride along. Chief began to sweat. Folks were lookin' around in great anticipation. So I asked, "In whose trustworthy hands may I place this precious mascot Dawg?". For fear of dragging the mystery out too long, I revealed the Dalmation Dawg; a mini-BeanieBaby Dalmation Dawg that will ride the dashboard in the new engine to keep our guys safe. Chief was relieved it wasn't a real Dalmation, but I had 'em goin' for a while.</span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">Auctioneer lit up like a Christmas tree! It became readily apparent that my friend<span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="color: red;">MTM</span><span style="color: #366092;"><span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span>was committed to this effort and her eyes literally had flames in them! Ready to leap out of my folding chair with my bidding paddle,<em>MY DEAR HUSBAND<span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span></em>tugged my skirt and pulled me off the track, dousing, extinguishing my competitive spirit. I stitched my lips together and sat on my hands. Just to be sure,<span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span><em>MY DEAR HUSBAND</em><span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span>would not turn a-lose of my skirt; that may have been an overture of a different kind, but I digress. The crowd got fired up and we all got behind<span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="color: red;">MTM</span><span style="color: #366092;"><span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span>and cheered her on!</span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">Once again, the gavel fell and a new Mayor was born. On the way home, I dabbed a tear and was all calf-eyed for a while, but yet I am pleased for<span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span><span style="color: #366092;">MT<span style="color: #366092;">M</span><span style="color: red;">.</span><span style="color: #366092;"><span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span>She really wanted it and everybody deserves their moment in the sun! (Remind her of that at the 4th of July parade!)<span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span></span>Expect</span><span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span>great things from your new Mayor. I, of course, am awaiting my appointment, purely an advisory position of course, to help with protocol etc... such as how to most gracefully board the big fire truck in the blazing July heat for the parade and so on.</span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">The cook-off was a big success, biggest turn out for contestants ever! I was a judge on the BBQ ribs challenge.<em><u><strong>21 samples!</strong></u></em><span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span>Now, I'm not one to turn down a good rack of ribs too often, but if I don't see one again any time soon, its okay. My colon was swollen.</span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">Moving on to Memorial Day weekend: Big shout-out to Kathy and Clay Parker for their incredible open house celebration! Outstanding food, breath-taking home and collections. Truly a special place. The Parkers are perfect hosts and not surprisiingly, their beautiful home was filled with happy, friendly, familiar faces. Another reminder of just how lucky we are to live in our<span class="ecxecxecxecxecxApple-converted-space"> </span><strong><em><u>MOST BEAUTIFUL VILLAGE.</u></em></strong></span></div><strong><em><u><span style="color: #366092;"></span></u></em></strong></blockquote><blockquote><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">Yes, it's true; I was sad to see the Mayor's hat go; but as they say,"to everything, there is a season". </span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">Like a grief-stricken widow, I sorted through my keepsakes and came upon my <strong><u>original </u></strong>hat. The Crab Hat. Born under the sign of Cancer the Crab and the simple fact that <strong><em>My Dear Husband </em></strong>can attest to my most rare and infrequent tendancy to being quite crabby, I surmised that now, with that lickity-split, oopsy-daisy oil spill in the gulf, I figure this hat will only increase in value due to the inevitable sky-rocketing price of sea food. The crab hat is not for sale, nor are the opinions expressed by the head that donns it. It is inarguable. Look forward to the "long arm of the claw". Don't let the crab-grass grow under your feet!</span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">The OL' Gray "Mayor" She Ain't What She Used To Be, but she is in sole possesion of the coveted Crab Hat.</span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #366092;">(Bidding opens at $2,500)</span><br />
<br />
<div class="ecxecxecxecxecxhmmessage" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
<span style="color: #366092;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #4f6128;">REMEMBER OUR MEN AND WOMEN IN UNIFORM.</span><br />
<strong><em><u><span style="color: red; font-size: small;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</span></u></em></strong><br />
<strong><em><u><span style="color: red; font-size: small;"></span></u></em></strong><br />
<span style="color: #0070c0;">I'll be around.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0070c0;">THE EX.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0070c0;"></span><br />
<strong><em><u><span style="color: black;">COPYRIGHT PENDING.</span></u></em></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #366092;"></span></strong> </div></blockquote>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-14402416359262331172010-04-17T12:23:00.000-07:002010-06-20T09:57:54.618-07:00GYPSIES, TRAMPS AND THEIVES!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKVfDNawKmdeOFLCLQpG9Jf8tjzxrBKwkB5hUr78776XJMMZRBdqMG6FAx9S1wh3lajoEvi6uS3qBGUeQh-hpWMN8BQT4ewBaM30mgwsFJhk7JG_Fi3APDQY1jP89tLTYR57S04YtrTiOj/s1600/fantasy-girl---cat-burgler-wallpapers_15008_1920x1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKVfDNawKmdeOFLCLQpG9Jf8tjzxrBKwkB5hUr78776XJMMZRBdqMG6FAx9S1wh3lajoEvi6uS3qBGUeQh-hpWMN8BQT4ewBaM30mgwsFJhk7JG_Fi3APDQY1jP89tLTYR57S04YtrTiOj/s320/fantasy-girl---cat-burgler-wallpapers_15008_1920x1200.jpg" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u>FELLOW VILLAGERS:</u></span></span></strong></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u></u><br />
<u></u></span></span></strong><span style="color: #c0504d;"><strong><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is with deep sadness I must inform you that I, my very mayoral self, have been victimized by a computer hacker. It started with a false email sent to me fro</span>m "windows live members services team" advising me that my email account would be permantly cancelled if I did not verify and confirm pertinent information. This hacker has hijacked my email and is puported to advance his sinister ambition towards my bank account and credit card. Being the ever gulible,trusting soul that I am, I responded. Needless to say, I am among the jaded, walking wounded.</strong> </span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #c0504d;"></span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #c0504d;">However, I persevere. Despite the impending demise of my stint as Mayor of Chappell Hill, and I do hope you all donate generously to the <span style="color: red;">CHVFD</span> for the cause, I will continue to provide you with humorous, if not sometimes meaningless entertainment.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #c0504d;"></span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #c0504d;">From here forth, you may reach me at this email address: <a href="mailto:gensbigstep@hotmail.com">gensbigstep@hotmail.com</a>. And the blog is still virginal and remains the same: <a href="mailto:chappellhillmayor@blogspot.com">chappellhillmayor.blogspot.com</a>. However, once I am de-throned, That address may have to be changed. </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #c0504d;"></span></strong><br />
<span style="color: #c0504d;"><strong>Unless, of course, there emerges a ground-swelling, grass-roots, tea party movement to invite me to a second term.</strong> </span><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>(HINT-HINT)!</strong></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #c0504d;"><strong>The <span style="color: blue;">Bluebonnet Festival</span> was, by all accounts, a huge success! And the vendors, patrons and wildflowers did not disappoint! Hot dogs, Kettle Corn, Lemonade...I was puffed up like a sea frog!</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #c0504d;"></span></strong><br />
<span style="color: #c0504d;"><strong>Also, I must add, the</strong> <em><span style="color: lime;"><strong>Kingfisher Ranch</strong></span></em> <strong>provided an additional festival of perfect proportion. My </strong><em><strong>DEAR HUSBAND</strong> </em><strong>and I participated in the armadillo race (of course I won, despite DEAR HUSBAND'S attempt to sabbotage and cripple my armadillo). </strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #c0504d;"></span></strong></span><span style="color: #c0504d;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>I passed on <em><span style="color: #274e13;">Larry the Camel Guy</span></em> ride, DEAR HUSBAND took a wild spin at break-neck speed on the souped-up, tricked-out ATV with His Most Gracious Former Royal Air Force Pilot, Sir Roger Imm and the curtain call was the indelible sight of <em>Sir Imm</em> spiraling his airboat across the place. It made me so nervous, I feared I might hurl my BBQ sandwich. But the</strong> <span style="color: magenta;"><strong><em>MOST </em></strong></span></span><strong><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: magenta;"><em>PLEASUARBLE Mrs. Paula Imm</em></span><span style="color: magenta;">,</span> said, "Ah! That's nothin'...He was one of the first pilots on the scene after the twin towers</span> <span style="font-size: large;">fell and landed on practically nothing but rubble!"</span></strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: #c0504d;"></span></strong><br />
<span style="color: #c0504d; font-size: large;"><strong>If you don't already know these folks, do so. Amazing, interesting people. Part of the reason our <span style="color: cyan;"><em>MOST BEAUTIFUL VILLAGE</em></span></strong><strong><em> </em>is so fascinating! And a great place to live and breathe freely.</strong></span></span><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">COPYRIGHT PENDING</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Verdana; font-size: large;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</span></strong>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-34942335102038620752010-04-09T20:16:00.000-07:002010-04-09T20:23:00.491-07:00ITS IN THE AIR!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdWbTKF7G6iZY-dVZzWYsTZiGaVQz_IKzR2VBue-KoZDHdu-T5ONwGjQyZBTMD5uuKnxczX0exyE2wRNLTXRtbT4QiHNFxlaGLt2_uiSgwOq-wymidAq5uZztifF5wpARJnrHAi3kA9n86/s1600/Pollen+CActus.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdWbTKF7G6iZY-dVZzWYsTZiGaVQz_IKzR2VBue-KoZDHdu-T5ONwGjQyZBTMD5uuKnxczX0exyE2wRNLTXRtbT4QiHNFxlaGLt2_uiSgwOq-wymidAq5uZztifF5wpARJnrHAi3kA9n86/s320/Pollen+CActus.gif" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Fellow villagers:</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span><span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><br />
</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #548dd4; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">The time is nye. Festivals, picnics, tourists brandishing cameras and</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #20124d;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #9fc5e8;">BLUEBONNETS!!!!</span></span></u><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Reach deeply into your compassionate hearts for the sadly overlooked and mostly disregarded</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span><span style="color: red;"><u>Indian Paint Brushes</u></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">; always the bridesmaid, never the bride but most beautiful,and this year we have extra.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #548dd4;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"></span> </span><span style="color: #4f81bd; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Also in the air, is a bumper crop of</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><span style="color: #e36c09;">Pollen</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">...cars, streets are covered with it and I have yet to have a conversation with anyone that's not interrupted by a few sneezes, a scratchy throat and watering eyes. I, myself, suffered severely swollen, watery, itchy eyes after an afternoon tending my garden, horses, goats, donkeys, cats and dogs. I looked like I'd been in a prize fight and didn't win the purse nor the belt. Fashionably disastrous!</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><span style="color: #4f81bd;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">The good news is that folks are out and about in this lovely weather and enjoying our</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><strong><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">MOST WONDERFUL VILLAGE</span></em></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">. Our Beloved </span><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">CHAPPELL</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;">HILL CAFE</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #274e13;"> </span></span></u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">will be buzzing, tending most cheerfully to the vast array of visitors, from bikers to beat-nicks, cowboys to cheerleaders and the unknown masses sporting jeweled flip-flops and wheeled suitcases to ferry their chosen </span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">arty-facts </span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">from the festival to the mini-van. And then back again.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span> </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Our dear friend Mike will have to do double time to crank out enough </span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">"Teckla Original" </span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">sausage. But don't feel sorry for him, he loves it and his most beautiful wife, Emily, </span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">will be there ever at his side with a sharp eye and focus on customer satisfaction</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">Also in the air, love. Our stallion, Moose, is loose and back with his 'wimmin', Amadeus "Goat-</span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">z</span></span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">art" is back out courting his herd of girly-goats. The mares are foaling precious babies, six or seven so far. My</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">DEAR HUSBAND</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> </span></span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">even has a small glint in his eye!</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"></span> </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">The only draw-back is my cat, Sweet Melissa, who is also effervescing in the season of love and keeps me up at night with her caterwauling plea for a mate.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444; font-family: Tahoma;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;"> "</span><em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #444444;">EVERYBODY NEEDS SOMEBODY SOMETIME".</span></em></span><br />
<em><span style="color: #4f81bd; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"></span></em></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD9KFWspis3dxyshDwsmr__dvocTzqzZAZLuG41z5ezAMH_FIg3UAQkENX_8PPUrf3U0yFUEZwx8_ZvT5aIfB5k2u4YWVjRpSXALACimi-tDlTQMlROeqf3Lo0gZc3byX0IZF3mYhrJo0W/s1600/Hot+Dog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD9KFWspis3dxyshDwsmr__dvocTzqzZAZLuG41z5ezAMH_FIg3UAQkENX_8PPUrf3U0yFUEZwx8_ZvT5aIfB5k2u4YWVjRpSXALACimi-tDlTQMlROeqf3Lo0gZc3byX0IZF3mYhrJo0W/s320/Hot+Dog.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"><br />
<em><span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">Enjoy this wonderful weekend at the festivals, the gatherings, the cafe...because, trust me on this, we'll be bitchin' in August!</span></span></em><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><br />
</span><span style="color: red; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"></span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"><strong><em><u>SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARMENT</u></em></strong></span><br />
<strong><em><u><span style="color: red; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;"></span></u></em></strong><br />
<strong><em><u><span style="color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: medium;">COPYRIGHT PENDING</span></u></em></strong></span>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-71389774719104489272010-03-28T21:06:00.000-07:002010-03-28T22:34:48.897-07:00HOW MUCH IS THAT BAND-AID IN THE WINDOW?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKy6tR-Z4rAvhrgWcmuzm-ti_9mC6rgaiEOVQLv4Nzi1u6__-vaE_wjBI_tbBTBy0pE5dzqPpMFVaGQgu8Ku7tDTlYtoCYXR5NKjV2W873T7nTxlPssvCOpdmmZx5AHgC1mZyxLZJ9Jb7e/s1600/pix88.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKy6tR-Z4rAvhrgWcmuzm-ti_9mC6rgaiEOVQLv4Nzi1u6__-vaE_wjBI_tbBTBy0pE5dzqPpMFVaGQgu8Ku7tDTlYtoCYXR5NKjV2W873T7nTxlPssvCOpdmmZx5AHgC1mZyxLZJ9Jb7e/s320/pix88.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong><em><span style="color: blue;">HOW MUCH IS THAT BAND-AID IN THE WINDOW?</span></em></strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong><em><span style="color: red;">FELLOW VILLAGERS:</span></em></strong></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today I hitched a ride to town to get my hair cut and buy some band-aids. Since I have been a-foot of late, I've got myself a couple of blisters. Long story, another time.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, with a little salve and band-aids these little abrasions will heal rapidly.<br />
<br />
The bigger blisters require bandages and salve not readily available. And they reside, most uncomfortably, not on my body, but on my mind, a collective mind, from the chaffing and rubbing that has occurred in our Nation. I guess we could try to stitch the wounds up, but I suspect it require surgical staples instead.<br />
<br />
N-Kay. So here we are. I still at least still have the <strong>"<span style="color: red;">FREEDOM"</span></strong><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span>to choose from the variety of band-aids. The salve is, of course, optional. At least, so far. Am I soon to be<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span><strong><u>required</u></strong><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span>to purchase salve in addition to my band-aids? Oh, and should I happen to pass some uncertain, unfortunate, hapless stranger with a paper cut on his/her finger on my way out, am I<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span><strong>required by law<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span></strong>to freely distribute and share my band-aids? And what about the salve? The salve might be considered a luxury, probably falls into the category of Specialist Medical Treatment, preserved only for the affluent. The good folks at Neo-Sporin must be bitin' their nails!<br />
<br />
Just what in Jimmeny Crickets is going on!? Well, that's really a rhetorical question. The Right Reverend Al Sharpton and the unfortunately afflicted with perennial<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> <strong><em><span style="color: red;">FOOT-IN-MOUTH DISEASE</span></em></strong></span><strong>..(</strong>is that covered or pre-existing?) VP Joe Biden both answered that question for us. And poor Nancy Pelosi, will we have to pay for her inevitable Carpal Tunnel Syndrome from waving and wielding that lumber jack gavel in her moment of fame. Is Tunnel Vision covered?<br />
<br />
Speaking of insurance coverage; is anybody taking out a life insurance policy on the Constitution Its on a respirator and somebody's got their foot on the hose. If you take a quiet moment you can hear its final gasps for breath and life. The skeleton staff at the guv-ment run hospital are scrambling and responding to<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span><span style="color: #0070c0;"><strong><em>"CODE BLUE".</em></strong><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span></span>But before they can break out the defibrillator paddles and gun 'em up, they have to stop and wait for Guvmint approval. Meanwhile the patient lies dying from lack of oxygen and cardiac arrest.<br />
<br />
Of course this is a metaphor. But what if it were you, your wife, husband, father, mother child? Perhaps your toddler made its way mistakenly into the swimmin' pool at your apartment complex, not breathing and turning blue, will you have to wait for some foot soldier to answer the "Bat Phone" to give the go ahead to instigate life saving measures? Or might that just be too costly, best to send in the<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span><strong><span style="color: #00b050;">END OF LIFE COUNSELORS; THE CZARS OF EVERGREEN..</span></strong>And at that point, hypothetically, does this<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span><span style="color: #00b050;">EOL</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span>Task Force counsel the dead one or are the surviving family members just collateral damage? Oooh!~<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span><em><u><span style="color: red;"><strong>An opportunity</strong></span></u></em>:<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span><strong><span style="color: #00b050;">The Czar of After-Life Counseling. Chief Czar of Post Mortem</span>.</strong>..Now accepting applications. Commission based salary, no benefits.<br />
<br />
Make no mistake...I am not without compassion for those cannot afford insurance. However, as the old saying goes:" You<span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span><u>give</u><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span>a man a fish, he'll eat for a day,<u>TEACH</u><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"> </span>a man to fish and he can eat forever"....(well, that is, unless if we let those little minnows suffer) And, of course, let us not overlook those amongus who'd 'just a-ssune' NOT carry insurance, stay beneath the radar and avail themselves to the rensentful </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">charity of Mercy Hospital ER.</span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">My guess is we're headin' for lock-step, lock-up or Loch Ness Monster. Buckle -up friends, the ride's gonna get bumpier, as in the words of our wise law enforment officials "Click it or Ticket". Drive safely and be careful in them waters! And remember, a small blister can be a painful thorn in a mighty lion's paw.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">And what about those pesky Polar Bears? Not only are their glacier pods melting, they're grabbin' up all the salmon!! And the Penguins are now morphing as well! They've shed their normal tuxedo attire and now are sporting all black feathers. True story. They look rather funerial. Talk about lock-step!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">Everything's gonna be okay.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: red; font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"><strong>SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTEMNT</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<strong><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">COPYRIGHT PENDING</span></strong>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-2529394228202872332010-01-24T11:32:00.000-08:002010-01-24T13:36:27.549-08:00TAKE A WALK ON THE WILDLIFE SIDE<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcnit0ME5Az4hNyOfW3sxPnXQ1XY7aMdTHqbxnOjsvE7-3OHFJ8AP5Nfz9yjeF6gGUO7bSsmxXyAjvd9ALLjAGfQO7muRxHWbX6r3pHJ3WrlGUuCGstIkgl6Be0Yy0FdWUHXpTCK_pJUoX/s1600-h/quail.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430392492560529698" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcnit0ME5Az4hNyOfW3sxPnXQ1XY7aMdTHqbxnOjsvE7-3OHFJ8AP5Nfz9yjeF6gGUO7bSsmxXyAjvd9ALLjAGfQO7muRxHWbX6r3pHJ3WrlGUuCGstIkgl6Be0Yy0FdWUHXpTCK_pJUoX/s400/quail.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 272px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /><br />
</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px;"></span><br />
<blockquote><span class="ecxApple-style-span" style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font: medium Helvetica; letter-spacing: normal; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"></span><br />
<div class="ecxhmmessage" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 10pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><b></b></span><br />
</div><br />
</blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>Fellow Villagers:</em></strong></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #009900;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande';"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span></span></span><br />
Somebody go run and fetch us a big, ten-gallon,</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">white</span></u><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">hat for</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Mr. Charles McDaniel</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">and a sporty, more fashionable one for his beautiful wife</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Lana!</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Outstanding host and hostess for the Wildlife Conservation Committee of the Chappe</span><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">l</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">l Hill Chamber of Commerce meeting,</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">"Partners, Parcels and Persist</span><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">e</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">nce: Keys in Restoring Quail Habitat"</span></u></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> on Saturday at their ranch, High Meadows, in Chappell Hill, a place that can only be described as heavenly.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Nice, large turn out, close to 100 good folks with one goal in mind, to regenerate the wildlife in Washington County, particulary the the Bobwhite quail. </span><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">The Committee was formed to promote responsible land stewardship with regard to complimentary agricultural and conservation practices. A core Committee goal is the retention and reintroduction of native wildlife species including Bobwhite Quail, the Eastern Turkey and species of migratory waterfowl. The Committee hopes to bring together like minded people in a collaborative effort. This seminar was one of a series of seminars that will be hosted by the Committee during 2010. Attendees were asked at registration to express their interest in a number of potential seminar topics and the Committee is very pleased to see that there indeed is interest in a number of the Committee's proposed topics for 2010. The next Committee meeting will be held on February 16th at 6:30 PM at the Chappell Hill Volunteer Fire Department.</span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">The guest speakers</span><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">did a fine job in their presentations, which included dissecting previously frozen quail with latex gloves and surgical scissors. Special mention to </span><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Dr. James C. Cathay</span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">, Biologist, Texas A&M, "Quail Biology & Management", </span><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Mr. Larry Pierce,</span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> Washington County Extension Agent, "Understanding Quail Inside and Out Necropsy,</span><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Mrs. Stephanie Damron,</span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> Texas Parks & Wildlife, "Working With Neighbors and Wildlife Associations".I admit I had to skip the necropsy part. Just bring me mine cooked, on a plate, with green beans and mashed potatoes and a large tea. I really don't need quite that level of intimate knowledge of a quail but there were plenty in the crowd who participated in the experience and now I know who to call if I ever need a quail cleaned and who not to give a pair of scissors to. For a brief moment, the place looked like a triage unit, each with their dead quail and scissoring away. In the corner, there was a cage with several live quail...they seemed kinda nervous.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Special thanks to</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Johnny and Carolyn Kopycinski, David and Geneva Smith, Chappell Hill Bank, Becky and Rodney Hanath, Lana and Charlie McDaniel, Barbara and Howard Schultz, Tom and Dixie Stevens and the Washington County Wildlife Association</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span></u></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">for their generous donations and sponsorship and all the volunteers for such a well organized, educational event. </span><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">The Committee's one regret was the inability to trap a wild hog for "Chef Donna" to prepare for the seminar lunch. That shortcoming has been promised to be rectified for the next event! Long as we don't have to skin it!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Also a big thank-ya to</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Mr. David Chisholm</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span></u></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">of</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Rocking C Ranches</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span></u></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">for providing his out-of this-world, all natural beef from choice cuts of Black Angus; no hormones, no antibiotics, 100% native grass fed. As a former cheeseburger aficionado, I can tell you there</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">IS</span></u></strong><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">a difference! Fast food burgers rapidly evaporated from my memory after one bite of Mr. Chisholms's all natural hamburger meat. What was I ever thinking, let alone putting in my body, from those drive-thru joints? Mr. Chisholm is readily available at</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><a href="http://www.rockingcranches.com/"><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">www.RockingCRanches.com</span></strong></a></strong><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">.</span></strong><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Our own beloved</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Bever's</span></strong><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Kitchen</span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">features his top quality beef as well as other dining establishments. Our dear friend</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Alejandra Ray,</span></strong><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">head Chef and Owner of Bever's Kitchen, swears by Mr. Chisholm's beef and it is now featured in all her beef dishes. At the risk of dating myself, a while back there was a TV commercial featuring a cranky grandma complaining about a burger chain and her quote was "Where's the Beef"?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Well, to old granny and to everyone else, I can tell you </span><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">exactlly</span></u><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">where the beef is: David Chisholm's 100% natural black angus choice cuts, double ground. I urge you to contact him and place your order. Once you taste it, you will never think about beef the same way. In an attempt to lower cholesterol, my Dr. said, "Lay off the cheeseburgers!" But this beef has about as much cholesterol as chicken! I could even have one for breakfast, but I guess that's overboard.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">It is so heartening to see neighbors and friends in a collective effort, and this is a really good one. That's one the best things about living in our</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Beautiful Village.</span></strong><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">We really can pull together for a good cause and I, for one, treasure the friends and neighbors I have out here. I strongly urge you to support this effort. You'll make some great friends and you won't be be disappointed.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Once again, big thanks to the McDaniels and the committee members and all the volunteers for a great event.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">Oh, and by the way, that spectacular German Shepherd puppy at the McDaniel's....If her precious self should turn up missing; "I</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span><strong><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">swear</span><span class="ecxApple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"> </span></span></u></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;">it wasn't me (bark, bark), "What dog?, Hush, puppy...(bark, bark).."oh, no, that's my parrot, he mimics German Shepherds. I'll sure keep an eye out for her, (wink, wink)". I guess I'll have to make do with the Glamour Shot I took of her! Just beautiful!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><strong>Thanks again to all involved.</strong></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="ecxApple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330033; font-style: normal;">COPYRIGHT PENDING</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-31479153167904478642010-01-03T10:27:00.000-08:002010-01-08T11:57:10.452-08:00TOP TEN: 2010!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEievQlevfZPPiAZ83XykdqH_n37yC1Zjfhqg7e_L3I7s89PwnqSCRipHGTaOJj9QWoah3956yG2_iC7PfoQDDMfv9L28fmLP-mzBbPT7PgcvM84qTfUbT_h6zlQgZTPl4GxFC2ZfT4dM9T9/s1600-h/image_preview.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422593217911405250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEievQlevfZPPiAZ83XykdqH_n37yC1Zjfhqg7e_L3I7s89PwnqSCRipHGTaOJj9QWoah3956yG2_iC7PfoQDDMfv9L28fmLP-mzBbPT7PgcvM84qTfUbT_h6zlQgZTPl4GxFC2ZfT4dM9T9/s320/image_preview.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:0;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ff0000;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><br /></span></b></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff0000;"><b><br /></b></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana, serif;color:#ff0000;"><b><br /></b></span><br /><span style="font-size:0;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ff0000;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Fellow Villagers:<br /></span></b></span></span></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Remember when we used to belly-laugh at David Letterman's <strong>Top Ten</strong> List before we got too old to stay up that late and before his recent scoundrel escapade with sorted staff members? And how 'bout that Tiger Woods! Nine wasn't enough, so he played somewhere close to eighteen holes! (Decorum prevents me from the obvious punchline). Sponsors droppin' like flies; perhaps he can pick a new sponsor: Tiagra! Perhaps Mr. Woods could find opportunity in China, it, after all, is ,the Year of the Tiger over there. Although, I think it would be wise for him to avoid restaurants, Chinese or otherwise. Maybe we should send the soon-to-be former Mrs. Woods to DC and make her the <strong>Czar of Pig Patrol</strong>. She could speak softly and carry a driver to help eradicate pigs!</span></span> <div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13;"><br /></span></span>And ladies, who among us can ever erase the indelible tattoo of Bo Derek jogging near naked, in slow motion, on the beach in the movie "<b>TEN</b>" that sticks in our husbands' minds. What was up with those hair beads and feathers and Ravel's Bolero? Hollywood created the feeling of instant inadequacy in us regular girls with that flick!<br /><br />Then there was that once famous country music star, David Allen Coe, a renegade and round-about known for very rowdy concerts, who sung to sold out crowds and lamented he once was so mad he "could eat a <b>Ten</b> penny nail and spit out a barbed wire fence". I remember nearly being arrested at one of his concerts in North Carolina because I needed to visit the bathroom and dared to try to walk up the aisle during the performance. My friend and I were escorted back to our seats and told to stay there until the concert ended. The badges on the sheriffs glistened in the bank of the stage lights, so we crossed our legs, tightly, and toughed it out. Our back teeth were about to float, but we made it without incident and eventually got back home to our scholastic residence in Virginia.<br /><br />The <b>TEN</b> Commandments! Poor ol' Charlton Heston, wherever his soul resides, must be grateful that Alzheimer's claimed his memory and his life so even if he did witness all this hullabaloo over displaying the <b>TEN</b> Commandments, he wouldn't remember it. 'Course, if you grew up like me, you know we had the <b>TEN</b> Commandments memorized by First grade and occasionally abandoned one or two of them in the <b>TENTH</b> grade. (Yes, I went to prep school and even college(s). Just didn't get that <b>TEN</b> Commandments thing nailed back down until a few bumps and spills later.) At the Mount Calvary Baptist Church, where my dear departed nanny attended every Sunday with a big, loud hat, they used to say,"Now, Child, Remember, 'Moses Knowses' and he's good friends with God!". Used to scare the daylights out of us young, white kids. Oh, in case you forgot, the <b>TENTH</b> Commandment forbidds coveting your neighbor's house, wife, male servant, female servant, ox, donkey, new carpeting, lawn mower, BBQ pit, potholders, secret family recipes, health insurance and so forth. In short, don't leer wantingly at anything you don't have. Could be important as many are already doing with less than others.<br /><br />Be <b>glad</b> your babies came out with all <b>TEN</b> toes and <b>TEN</b> fingers. And nevermind that awful chainsaw accident, at least they started out in tact.<br /><br /><div>The <b>TENTH</b> state to join the Union was Vermont. The <b>TENTH</b> President of The United States was William Henry Harrison. The <b>TEN</b> dollar bill features Alexander Hamilton. Next time you need to break a twenty, ask for two Lincolns and a Hamilton and watch the confused expression on your young, pubescent server's face.<br /><br />And now today, in 20<b>10</b> what's even scarier is the battle over our Constitutional rights. Of particular note, the <b>TENTH</b> Amendment, which declares that:<br /><br />“The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people”.<br /><br />With over 30 States affirming their rights under the 10th Amendment, the original intent of which was to limit the size and power of the Federal government (AKA Feral Guvmint), a showdown is brewing between the Fed and the States and the People. While a few “Rino” scallywags debate whether it is constitutional for one State, Nebraska via Senator Nelson, to receive a disproportionate “share” of the Feral Guvmint’s “largesse”, AKA taxpayer debt, a much broader question looms large!<br /><br />Does the Feral Guvmint have the authority to force sovereign citizens to buy anything but of immediate great importance, health insurance?<br /><br />From the August Senator’s website biography it states:<br /><br /><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">“As a young man at the University of Nebraska - Lincoln, Ben Nelson spent his Sundays serving as a lay minister to rural Nebraska congregations. Foreshadowing </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">his future in public service, Nelson chose law school over the ministry. He earned a bachelor’s degree in 1963, a master’s degree in 1965 and a law degree from the University of Nebraska in 1970.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br />Following his time as a student, Nelson enjoyed a successful career in insurance law. He served as CEO of the Central National Insurance Group, as chief of staff and executive vice president of the National Association of Insurance Commissioners, and as director of the Nebraska Department of Insurance.”</span></span></i> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span><br />Now that’s where the rubber meets the road, another attorney turned “Law-Maker” representing the insurance cartel plucking the low hanging fruit of political cronyism. Maybe just another case of political “<b>Pigs get fat, hogs get slaughtered</b>”.<br /><br />Any wonder why we are seeing more bumper stickers advocating Secession messages in plain view of the apparent rapid elimination of our rights? Think about it.<br /><br />Honestly, I am happy to wave goodbye to 2009. It was not a good year on many levels, both personally and nationally. But I have high hopes for 20<b>10</b>. It may get worse before it gets better but at least we know what we're made of and can pull through. 2009 was about bad luck and mistaken ideals. Think about ol' Moses and everything he endured! He treked up the mountain for that stone tablet and then dropped it. Who knows, maybe there were thirteen Commandments and they were edited out! He survived that bizarre Burning 'Bush' thing, (so did we), His staff turned into a snake, (Hello Congress!) and he had to deal with that terrible Red Sea. Is it safe to say we can hear the waves of our own Red Sea in the not-too-distant future? Tune up your Jet-Ski friends, its gonna be a bumpy ride!<br /><br />Perhaps Obama was unintentionally right. We do need CHANGE, and not the Lincoln or Hamilton kind, sadly that is becoming almost worthless as well. It is my personal view that his call for "change we can believe in" may come back to bite him, in the end, so to speak, because many folks indeed want things to change, but believe it will have to start with a deep house cleaning project/movement in Washington, DC. and a stiff drink with the backbone of our Constitutional rights.<br /><br />So, here's to you all. Have a Happy New Year! Be safe and sound. Love your family and remember your neighbors, you never know when we might need each other. And if you find yourself frustrated, red-faced and angry and out of patience with the whole thing, do as my <em>Treasured Mother</em> says," Sit down and count to <b>TEN</b>". Keep your ears to the ground. The <b>10th</b> <strong>Amendment </strong>is rumored to be the Big Issue in 20<b>10</b> and the rumbling has already begun, particularly if that lawsuit goes foward in South Carolina.<br /><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ugh! my <em>Treasured Mother</em> is right! I gotta sit down and count to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><strong>10!</strong> I in<strong>TENd</strong>to stay positive.</span></span></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"></span></strong></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana, serif;font-size:100%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:13;"><b><br /></b></span></span><b><i>SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT.<br /></i></b><br /><b><i>COPYRIGHT PENDING</i></b></div></div>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-40823300698184676852009-12-06T19:13:00.000-08:002009-12-19T08:19:29.833-08:00Santa Claus is Comin' to Town!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQ6lDXlMCTFa_tBzskWkOuRWmEJKVlAlpaSB6qYWS1FFP0K0LO-T2EhtOaHdZr2Hfz-S2k62bmGklpEq_pYE5QsvysUwYyoR1zaZ26Tl9DPfksR3ma3ygrBAr4nECK5GO1dNXVv_Gmnb9/s1600-h/SurfingSanta1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 283px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTQ6lDXlMCTFa_tBzskWkOuRWmEJKVlAlpaSB6qYWS1FFP0K0LO-T2EhtOaHdZr2Hfz-S2k62bmGklpEq_pYE5QsvysUwYyoR1zaZ26Tl9DPfksR3ma3ygrBAr4nECK5GO1dNXVv_Gmnb9/s320/SurfingSanta1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412328680828899330" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Dear Fellow Villagers:<br /> <br />Well, we barely gulped down the last of the left-over Thanksgiving turkey sandwiches, when we became urgently aware that the <span style="font-style:italic;">Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanza/Ubangi Stomp/Rahmadan/Merry Merry Mistletoe</span> and all that is in full swing! I, myself, fell into the hypnotic, holiday haze and, within a blink of an eye, I brought home a wonderful Noble Fir Christmas Tree, lit it, decorated it and basked in its beauty.<br /> <br />And then, as if scripted by Holly-wood, the snow came and the pastures were covered in white...(mostly sleet really, but that's a minor detail). <span style="font-weight:bold;">NO GLOBAL WARMING</span> in my immediate view.<br /> <br />Our wonderful Main Street in <span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">Our Beautiful Village</span></span>, is adorned with wreaths and bows and you can catch the glimmer of Christmas tree lights through the windows of the houses as you drive by. You can sense the anticipation in the eyes of the children, curious and excited over what Santa will bring this year. (In some cases, if anything...).<br /> <br />Even if Santa does arrive, no need to be fast asleep as he comes down the chimney. You won't recognize him. As I am told, he will arrive, sporting some beach shorts and tank top. Oh, and that big, fluffy, white beard, gone. Just too hot! Ya might not want to stand in line for your little ones to sit on his lap this year because he's gonna be all sweaty and probably not smell too good. And really, why traumatize any child to sit on Ol' St. Nick's hairy legs! All this <span style="font-weight:bold;">GLOBAL WARMING</span> has altered the North pole and Christmas as we know it may well be in jeopardy, on many levels.<br /> <br />First off, I hear tell Santa availed himself to the Cash for Clunkers deal and swapped out the old sleigh for a new <span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">SUV</span><span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></span>; (<span style="font-weight:bold;">S</span>anta's <span style="font-weight:bold;">U</span>ltimate <span style="font-weight:bold;">V</span>ehicle). No ice, no sleigh. The reindeer are out to pasture, hoping for a bail-out. Even Rudolph's nose has gone "green". Isn't there a Czar out there somewhere that can turn this thing around? Poor old Bing Crosby must be twisting in his grave at the thought of his eternal treasure of a Christmas song being changed into "I'm Dreaming of a Green Christmas"! <br /> <br />Just who do we think we are that we can question the forces of nature, let alone substantially alter them? The planet Earth has been around longer than all of us, except that old man that hit my car, and it seems to have taken care of itself without help. I don't recycle and waste my time with bottles and cans and paper; that's what dumpster divers are for. Besides, if I were going to recycle, it would involve a plastic surgeon and anesthesia.<br /> <br />Well, I suppose I have sufficiently stuffed my stocking with enough cynicism for now. I'm going to go back and stare at my Noble fir, have some hot chocolate and pet my Dawg.<br /> <br />Have a wonderful Holiday season! And even though they say we are afflicted with Global Warming, where I come from,<span style="font-style:italic;"> you can leave your hat on!</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</span><br /></span> <br />COPYRIGHT PENDINGMayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-58898907827093330832009-11-16T19:04:00.000-08:002009-11-18T13:36:36.610-08:00FINGER LICKIN' GOOD:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijWR7jsX9InL6Tj_1gV3vyheoZyH2s1EVR-3ebXRQoS9kByyicCKTF5aUdUzSsVpIqNmjIogpaUwrZOKcHG0wgtkvqodg3P2lTBXwrYqRM-yBI2_tMplJzhcEg_xYhSLB9Q3OKFKOJG1A/s1600/dino-chick.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijWR7jsX9InL6Tj_1gV3vyheoZyH2s1EVR-3ebXRQoS9kByyicCKTF5aUdUzSsVpIqNmjIogpaUwrZOKcHG0wgtkvqodg3P2lTBXwrYqRM-yBI2_tMplJzhcEg_xYhSLB9Q3OKFKOJG1A/s320/dino-chick.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405560758472648226" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Now, I've been around a while. I've seen things I can't even begin to describe. But here now, I am flat out struck back and am truly considering that the collective insanity going on is my cue to exit.<br /> <br /><br /><br /><br />EXHIBIT 1: There is actually a movement to re-invent the dinosaurs, by way of the supposed genetic creatures, found through DNA, with chickens. <br /> <br />First off, we are a <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Village of People Respecting Chickens</span></span>. I would prefer that they not be scientifically morphed into Dinosaurs. Imagine the horror of the sweet Main Street Chickens, for which we all paused as they crossed, turned into repro-dinos! Not Happy!<br /> <br />They say they can alter the chicken gene to avail them to larger claws and a substantial tail; larger teeth and a most unpleasant nature. Talk about <span style="font-weight:bold;">FOWL PLAY</span>!<br /> <br />Not to put too fine a point on it, but might we consider:<br /> <br />Are these <span style="font-weight:bold;">DYNO-MITE Chickens/Dinosaurs</span> gonna eat us and our little pets, or can we get creative and figure out how to BBQ these queer beasts. <br /> <br />Think of the crossing signs on Main Street; <span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-weight:bold;">CAUTION: DYNO-CHICKEN CROSSING</span></span>. And God help the poor soul hired to feed these creatures. You'll have to search far and wide to find a Vet to tend these beasts. What if they multiply? Who will risk their life to neuter such a creature?<br /> <br />This is a mistake. And folks need to stop monkeyin' around with this kind of thing.<br /> <br />What's next? Bringing the dead back to life? No.<br /> <br />Let sleeping Dinosaurs lie. And leave those poor chickens alone. It's like " Here Chicky -Chicky, Come meet Herman, your Monster, He's gonna change your life!"<br /> <br />I'm square out going vegetarian.<br /> <br />Enough.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</span><br />COPYRIGHT PENDINGMayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-75198923851167234902009-10-27T20:41:00.000-07:002009-10-28T18:38:00.002-07:00SPOOKED!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWVGAduqwKyxcMDOcstD1f8BTAYADgDcUs0fWKnMeU0ePT06-3IUJ867ptAXs_8zPNSlz6t-7Qo_THLiX_GOXh9mdnWLv-l7uyx7jLSjVrOSf_xrzrE6rcmLYB676tS7Nq_lLv5bHjfnE/s1600-h/1+casper.JPG.jpeg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 285px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVWVGAduqwKyxcMDOcstD1f8BTAYADgDcUs0fWKnMeU0ePT06-3IUJ867ptAXs_8zPNSlz6t-7Qo_THLiX_GOXh9mdnWLv-l7uyx7jLSjVrOSf_xrzrE6rcmLYB676tS7Nq_lLv5bHjfnE/s320/1+casper.JPG.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397830166331198146" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />"Knock,Knock!" "Who's there?" "Boo!"... "Boo who?"... "Oh quit cryin' or I'm not playing this game anymore!"<br /> <br />Well,<span style="font-weight:bold;"> <span style="font-style:italic;">FELLOW VILLAGERS</span></span>:<br /> <br />The time is nigh. Halloween is upon us and folks are figurin' out what to wear to the costume party. So, in the "spirit" of the season, might we bow and recall that on this occasion, it is <span style="font-weight:bold;">70</span> years ago that our beloved <span style="font-weight:bold;">CHAPPELL HILL CAFE</span> came to be and has provided our <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">LOVELY VILLAGE</span> </span>with cheerful smiles, good food and the small town barometer of who's good and who's bad! If ever in doubt, "Are you a Good Witch or a Bad Witch?" take a seat at <span style="font-weight:bold;">70</span> our beloved <span style="font-weight:bold;">CHAPPELL HILL CAFE</span> and you will soon know. It will be apparent by the temperature of your coffee and how high the waitresses have arched their backs.<br /> <br />Now, I'm informed that <span style="font-weight:bold;">70</span> our beloved <span style="font-weight:bold;">CHAPPELL HILL CAFE</span> ,is, in fact, <span style="font-weight:bold;">HAUNTED!</span> A ghost's movements are captured in a framed picture that is hung on a wall of the Cafe wandering the restaurant. A friendly ghost, called "Floyd", fondly so it would seem, making sure Mikey was tending the books properly and keepin' customers satisfied. Meanwhile Floyd's keepin' the waitresses somewhat nervous. Our <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">DEAR FRIEND EMILY</span></span> (AKA Sissy) has made peace with this phantom and they have come to an understanding as to the mutual beneficial interest in the continuing success of the Cafe and marking Big Mike's behavior.<br /> <br />When all this came to light last Sunday after church, our collective souls proportionally saved, all things considered, the scutter began. <br /> <br />"Pass the salt, and we need more butter" could be heard around the nearby tables as the tales were told. Turns out, there are more than a few haunted places in <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">OUR LOVELY VILLAGE</span></span>. Eyes began to dart downwards and people were speaking in whisper. Some claim to have video surveillance tape of a ghost haunting a well known bank, and a house of fine repute, graced with TLC and refinement but sports a ghost.<br /> <br />I can't blame the dead. I love it here in our <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Lovely Village </span></span><span style="font-weight:bold;">Respecting Chickens</span>. We have more churches per capita than most towns and no shortage of cemeteries. Fertile grounds for those who prefer sheets to a pair of Wranglers. If I were a ghost, rather than a ghost writer, I'd stick around and would dang sure be rattling chains in somebody's attic. I even wrote, as a ghost writer, for a time for two retired OSHA attorneys with several publications including Chain Link Fence Monthly. It took every bit of my creativity to make that subject interesting. You could say I was the "<span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">GHOSTESS WITH THE MOSTESS</span></span>".<br /> <br />There's a difference between being haunted and hosting a ghost. One just follows you around and the other makes you crazy for your Dirty Deeds. Either way, its a ghost and you have to come to terms with your own special spector. Its not enough to throw a white sheet over it and call it Casper. <br /> <br />Stop in at the <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">CHAPPELL HILL CAFE</span></span> next time your around; say hello to Sissy, Sandra and Kathy and tip your hat to "Floyd". As long as he's around, nobody will be spittin' in your tea, least not out loud! And he's keepin' Mike in line, maybe even a straight one on occasion. Emily has a friend in poor old Floyd and in spite of claims of the "super"-"natural", she is loved by all.<br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO CHAPPELL HILL CAFE! 70 YEARS AND STILL GOIN'!</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARMENT<br /></span> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">COPYRIGHT PENDING<br /></span>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-56305753805563877602009-10-24T05:03:00.000-07:002009-10-24T09:09:27.840-07:00SOY SAUCE!!! Mao Tse Tung-in-Cheek<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBmmWU2ENot-o8EP6DPCt5EZrW79HnehhQUs-xkwAtC6fdzCNr3GhyphenhyphenbPF71JRFB8os2Sg1gJEilAIONAPOYlABX1eZi5ORa-aUQ9lfgkelRFHpIwCHsktUhjRqBNMsCJT9HgjW1oEnaIMp/s1600-h/Mao+red+faced.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBmmWU2ENot-o8EP6DPCt5EZrW79HnehhQUs-xkwAtC6fdzCNr3GhyphenhyphenbPF71JRFB8os2Sg1gJEilAIONAPOYlABX1eZi5ORa-aUQ9lfgkelRFHpIwCHsktUhjRqBNMsCJT9HgjW1oEnaIMp/s320/Mao+red+faced.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396196669600089666" /></a><br /><strong>FELLOW VILLAGERS:</strong><br /><br />A few days ago I contacted <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">MY DEAR HUSBAND</span></span> just before he embarked on his journey home from the wilds of the work force and nearly frightened him with those dreaded words, "Hey! I've got an idea!"<br /> <br />I had this intense craving for Chinese food, real Chinese food, of which <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Our Lovely Village</span></span> is glaringly without. Pot stickers!, Fried Rice!, Kung Pao Chicken! Spicy Orange Beef! Egg Rolls! Hot and Sour Soup! Won Tons! YUM! So, panting and salivating like a pregnant woman in dire need of pickles and pistachio ice cream, I prevailed upon him to bring home some Chinese take-out. I anxiously honed and whittled our chopsticks in anticipation of the taste and aroma. Checking to make sure we had plenty of Soy Sauce, it occured to me; Yeah, Perfect! The old Robbies could be a Chinese food restaurant! Surely, <strong>"Sum Yung Guy"</strong> could make a go of it and Hey! They could even <strong>"Wok Around the Block"</strong> for delivery to us Villagers who've been deprived of the Asian fare. It seems almost fool proof!<br /> <br />As we casually dined on our Chinese take-out, our momentary bliss was blown by the stunning appearance on television of Anita Dunn, the 'acting' Chief White House Communications Advisor giving an address at some sort of commencement. Now I will tell you that its just darn near impossible to get between me and my pot stickers. In fact, I love them so much <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">MY DEAR HUSBAND</span></span> and I once lured the children to our favorite Chinese haunt and we challenged them to see who could eat the most of them. Great fun! The jury is still out on who actually won, depending on who you ask.<br /> <br />But on this night, as we watched Anita Dunn drooling over her favorite philosophers, Mao and Mother Theresa, I must confess, I dropped my dumpling. ( much to the delight of my beloved Dawg).<br /> <br />First off, that is, at the very least, a really weird combination. I doubt there's a Chinese restaurant, or any other for that matter, hawking such a combo platter. Lemme see; okay, first we torture them, kill off the ones we can and then minister to them and tell them God loves them and they are precious creatures. Ms. Dunn is, shall we say, confused, at best. But because her idiocy cost me a dumpling, I am thinking more along the lines of a psychological disorder. Not only what she said was strange but her delivery was suspicious. Talk about <em>"Take-Out"!</em><br /> <br />Now we learn that <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Our Fearless Leader and Champion of Change</span></span> will soon be heading to Asia. There is a fierce debate over what type of souvenir there will be for this trip. Talk swirling about Mao-Bama T-shirts and posters of Obama in a communist uniform. I suppose the possibilities are endless and a few folks will most likely make a few bucks on the whole thing. But if you come across a T-shirt that suits you just right, check the tag and see if it says Made in China, it might sway your decision.<br /> <br />As far as the idea for a Chinese Food Restaurant at the old Robbies site, I still think it could work. They'll have to get creative with the menu<em>..."The Mao-Bama </em><em>Special", "The Mao/Mother Deluxe", "Socialism Soup with a Side of Tender Theresa". </em>And at the end of your meal, they could provide the complimentary <em>"Mis-Fortune"</em> cookies.<br /> <br />I can't wait! But then I grew up in town where some of the best BBQ was found at a joint called Gingus Khan BBQ. No kidding. I think its still there.<br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</span><br /> <br /><strong>COPYRIGHT PENDING</strong>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-30365296726242201802009-10-08T20:40:00.000-07:002009-10-08T20:56:28.437-07:00WHITE-WASH<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuruXN06Z1Ybgy4GdVngMb0SBvDabsBSPBNbtZQKF7tWAdu1S5wwVugXaMS_5GmkdS-NjWqUyxDtQiXn6dmc3knjYmNrVQVe3uLa2jsdUm_oVr75nWsQew6eVLU1D1hft84GqpEm88BmgU/s1600-h/White-Crested+Black+Polish.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 238px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuruXN06Z1Ybgy4GdVngMb0SBvDabsBSPBNbtZQKF7tWAdu1S5wwVugXaMS_5GmkdS-NjWqUyxDtQiXn6dmc3knjYmNrVQVe3uLa2jsdUm_oVr75nWsQew6eVLU1D1hft84GqpEm88BmgU/s320/White-Crested+Black+Polish.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390440964742120818" /></a><br /><br />Recently, my <span style="font-weight:bold;">DEAR HUSBAND<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> and I had our humble abode repainted. A nice, fresh coat of white paint, It really spruced the place up...a relatively inexpensive improvement with a simple case of white washing. <br /> <br />Speaking of improvements, hats off to the new owners of the former <span style="font-weight:bold;">Wichita House</span> on <span style="font-weight:bold;">Main Street</span>. A really nice job! The rest of us <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">VILLAGERS</span><span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> are hoping for an Open House soon, crested jacket required of course to visit House of Im! (Just kidding!) Besides, I checked with JC Penny, Palaise Royal and even Wal-Mart in our friendly, nearby town of Brenham and there apparently has been a run on those jackets.They were all out.<br /> <br />I suspect there are quite a few health care providers, pharmacists, doctors, PA's, LVN's and so on who must be finding themselves a little short on Lab Coats, given the boundless yet insulting latest effort by Our <span style="font-weight:bold;">Fearless Champion of CHANGE </span>providing Dr.'s Lab Coats to any and all attending the press conference on the Sacred Lawn in our Nation's Capital in support of Obama-Care.<br /> <br />This man has no shame and an unprecendented kind of arrogance thinking we could be fooled by this stunt. First off, he was flanked by two Docs in lab coats who are known to be among his largest campaign contributors. Over the top obvious in my view. Might he have considered spreading his "message" by giving out free flu shots instead? I mean, we're All For One and One For All!, right? It reminds me of when your friends or family go to some dream vacation spot and were thoughtful enough to bring you a souvenir T-shirt. Imagine its slogan:<span style="font-weight:bold;"> "ShakIraqADillyac went to the Press Conference for Obama-Care and all I got was a lousy lab coat". </span><br /> <br />See, now I'm feeling confused. Is it the Green House or the White House? Or are we supposed to wear a (lab)coat of many colors and try to blend in. Maybe its my bent mind, but I'm watching the coverage of this press conference and I see Mr. Obama, head held high in what seemed too close to a sea of white lab coats; KKK's minus the hoods and burning stakes.<span style="font-weight:bold;"> "Come on in folks! Get your free lab coat, right here! Lab coats for Lab Rats!" </span>Of course, based on recent revelations regarding the Czarahhrea in the not-so-white house, reviewing the white jackets abounding near the rose garden, there doesn't appear to be a "straight jacket" in the bunch.<br /> <br />My father practiced real medicine for 55 years; often it cost him more to treat his patients than he could earn due to the Guvmint medalling in health-care. He never minded, he often accepted a crate of home grown grapefruit or tomatoes or something else that came off the patient's farm. Instead of Pro-duce, today, he might be offered an iPod loaded with "Rap Sheeets" or something. I can feel him spinning in his grave.<br /> <br />Some of you might remember the old TV commercial for cold medicine or aspirin or something featuring a nice looking actor, popular at the time, and he opens the ad by saying, <span style="font-weight:bold;">"I'm not a doctor, but I play one on TV".<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> Might've been Marcus Welby or something, but I'll go no further as to avoid dating myself other than to speak longingly towards stethoscopes, of all colors.<br /> <br />White paint should be reserved for picket fences and old houses, not for walk-ins on the D.C. set. I have to believe this will all come out in "the wash" in time. Then we can concentrate on stain removal.<br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">SUPPORT YOURLOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT!</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-style:italic;">COPYRIGHT PENDING</span><span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-9952523726011128272009-10-03T19:06:00.000-07:002009-10-04T11:41:33.337-07:00AS THE CROW FLIES<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbAWGgGTcDOmc-P3X563vSQ6THVjjYGyT1LMx3M96icyAtiRcWrHD79y0xNUDUnDbJ8f8bIp5-bEM_xedHeA5SFJCZXQxhkkInxAq3etY1k6oc4Q5WJop2ktF49S4AgKleZukbwND0UZT/s1600-h/Entry.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbAWGgGTcDOmc-P3X563vSQ6THVjjYGyT1LMx3M96icyAtiRcWrHD79y0xNUDUnDbJ8f8bIp5-bEM_xedHeA5SFJCZXQxhkkInxAq3etY1k6oc4Q5WJop2ktF49S4AgKleZukbwND0UZT/s320/Entry.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388561536329800594" /></a><br />As a child, I can remember being afraid of certain things, mostly imaginary and did not actually reside beneath the bed or lurk within the closet. <br /> <br />As I aged, ungracefully I might add, I found a new fear. <span style="font-weight:bold;">CROWS-FEET!<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> Those little lines around the eyes that tell the tale of not only your years but your experience. Some call them wisdom lines, others call them laugh lines...well-earned.<br /> <br />Thankfully, we, in our <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">MOST LOVELY VILLAGE Respecting Chickens</span></span>, have an annual opportunity to celebrate and enjoy <span style="font-weight:bold;">THE SCARECROW FESTIVAL!</span><br /> <br />How happy to see the Scarecrows stuffed and propped along <span style="font-weight:bold;">Main Street </span>in anticipation and welcome for visitors; Vendors hawking their wares and goods, folks milling about, enjoying the advent of Autumn.<br /> <br />However, amongst our celebration and joy of our ScareCrow Festival...Might we remember that the <span style="font-weight:bold;">ScareCrow</span> is intended to <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">'SHOOOO'</span> </span>the black crows that seek to pillage the seeds gracious farmers have sown for another year's harvest. Thus, the necessity of the <span style="font-weight:bold;">SCARECROW</span>. <span style="font-weight:bold;"> The Scarecrow's</span> job was to ward off the invasion of crops by black birds. Adorned in old and colorful clothing, stuffed with hay, propped and poised to stand vigilant against these errant fowls. Our dear departed friend, Alfred Hitchcock, can remind us all of "birds pissed off".<br /> <br />One must wonder, how our latest "Regulatory" <span style="font-weight:bold;">Czar</span> with a faux fur Disneyesque animal rights agenda will reconcile this issue while advocating all animals must have the right to an attorney and representation in cases of alleged abuse and horrifically, the opportunity to defend and defy euthanasia. Without opposable thumbs, how will these blessed creatures be able to invoke their right to one phone call? For that matter, lacking the funds to travel to court they even lack the requisite limb to hitchhike their way to the halls of justice. Only to be tarred and feathered.<br /> <br />And if required to testify, will these poor creatures be tied to an interpretor that might just collapse claiming ,"I can't take it (fake it) anymore!" What will we do if we need to provide 'End of Life' Counseling in Barkology or Meowism? Further, will the sufferers of a "simian cleft" be denied treatment for reasons of genus or species?<br /> <br /> Finally, there remains the question whether a <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Village Respecting Chickens</span></span> can coexist with scardy crows or will there only be room for one rooster in the new regulatory regime? Just exactly who is the cock of the walk?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Make no mistake</span>, I love the <span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-style:italic;">SCARECROW FESTIVAL!!! </span></span> And<br /> I intend to be there with bells on! Come along and enjoy! These wonderful Fall days are fleeting and we need to notice its visitation. See Ya There!<br /> <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">COPYRIGHT PENDING<br /></span>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-55538685778100675192009-09-20T09:08:00.000-07:002009-09-21T10:01:54.461-07:00THE ORDER OF THE ARROW<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGOKeUTTuqcvQ_3SaWXvJtIXkVnldUD2ssr57EiTbDZaRA25z42fHGScjGY8wz-y1Nl13E33_p8yKmrQhru8mECjoZP8y6FysF5GUcJJOpdvHUDvnNgnPshRXD-cVr4RW23NfxDRcMY0C/s1600-h/The+Order.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaGOKeUTTuqcvQ_3SaWXvJtIXkVnldUD2ssr57EiTbDZaRA25z42fHGScjGY8wz-y1Nl13E33_p8yKmrQhru8mECjoZP8y6FysF5GUcJJOpdvHUDvnNgnPshRXD-cVr4RW23NfxDRcMY0C/s320/The+Order.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383583637859710354" /></a><br />Not much in this life is more wonderful than a good night's sleep. It slips between our fingers as we age and we sleeplessly worry over a myriad of circumstances and concerns that occupy our lives and our minds. We toss and turn and finally surrender to the break of day and trudge forth again through our somewhat regular routine looking forward to the soft pillow to rest our heads upon when the day is done, and then, again move forward with an odd <span style="font-style:italic;">Blue Plate Special Combo of Optimism with a Side of Grim Palor</span>.<br /> <br />This past Saturday night, I slept so very well, it was almost a crime. Slumber, peaceful sleep and an overall feeling of well-being when I awakened. What, I wondered, was the key to this peaceful sleep!, Can I bottle it, market it and make a fortune? My brow was less furrowed and my teeth less gritted. What was the source of this feeling?, this feeling of that long-gone stranger <span style="font-weight:bold;">"<span style="font-style:italic;">HOPE"!</span></span><br /> <br />The source was, in a way, the Fountain of Youth. I had the privilege of spending some time with the Boy Scout Troop # 652, bravely camping out in our <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Lovely Village</span></span> at the Most Admired Estate of our Neighbor and friend, in an effort to earn their bicycling badge by cycling 25 miles in one day. Also scheduled was an Archery Event, but the inclimate weather shut that part down. <br /> <br />Given the interruption in the programmed events, I figured it would be interesting to visit with these <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Future Bearers of the Torch Of Freedom</span></span> about the state of our Nation. Certainly, we can make no mistake how the Boomers and Seniors feel about all this, but the Town Halls and the Tea Parties don't often put their ear to the ground on what the young folks have to say. With all the talk about 'Its about the Children' and 'The Children are our Future', and 'It takes a Village...' Has anybody bothered to ask these fine young kids what they think?! I dusted off the crystal ball and gazed into the minds of the <span style="font-weight:bold;">Future Leaders To- Be- In Training</span>. After all, the Boy Scouts is a renowned organization promoting leardership,honesty and responsibility and it would appear that those qualities will be vital to our country.<br /> <br />At first, I paused, and figured I would get a bunch of "I dunno" and "WHATEVER"...BOY was I wrong!<br /> <br />These boys, aged 12-15 years old,( actually on average 13.5 years old, as I was corrected) were not only delightful,well-mannered, informed and well-educated; but more than anxious to be heard about the condition of our country and where its going.<br /> <br />When I began to ask the group some non-leading questions, their individual and collective personalties emerged. None were overly influenced by the others and all seemed to have their feet squarely planted on the ground.<br /> <br />I queried, "What do you like best about coming out to <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Our Lovely Village?</span></span> It was a close tie between the scenery, the hills, the variety of road-kill and, oh yeah, the Bluebonnets!<br /> <br />When the topic of discussion focused on more serious issues, I was frankly amazed. These kids KNOW what they're up against. When I asked, "How do you feel about how our goverment system works?" One future torch bearer and his friend gave a friendly punch in the arm to each other and said "Hey, look at us!, We're from different schools. We're rivals! I'm wearing my school shirt and he's wearing his, but we're friends! Why can't the Government work that way?" My heart swelled with the notion that these two can compete and yet find a commonality without rancor.<br /> <br />Daring into deeper issues, the question was how did they forsee themselves repaying the debt accrued by the government, left and waiting for the time when they are young adults and are saddled with the whole mess. How did they feel about the government mortgaging their future with about as much care as a bunch of louts leaving the cracked peanut shells on the bar room floor while feeding themselves on the free pick-up peanuts and washing it down with a cold one. Somebody else will clean it up, right? Some of the scouts were staggered by the numbers but each had a response. Some were very witty and some were rather serious...a range of ideas from "killing all the politicians", "overthrowing the Government", "Texas seceeding" and one comment from no doubt a budding young lawyer who's answer to repaying the debt was,"Simple. Sue the Government". And then there was the scout who clearly had given these topics alot of thought. His facts were correct and he had answers that were cogent and well-delivered. Not surprisingly, this scout is a leader among the troop. Tall, easy on the eye, and an air of professionalism. For a moment I wondered if we had a soon-to-be politician on our hands. So well spoken, and he gave a very straight-foward minor discertation on the evils of Socialism. His position was to stop all government spending and had an expanded view on why Socialism, or in his words, Communism won't work. He said,"A free market can solve problems the government can't". I couldn't resist asking him what he wanted to be when he got through with school. Certain I would hear him placing dubs on some public office, he surpised me. He aims to become a Vegetarian Veternarian. In a confusing way, I felt a little relieved although sharp, bright minds infused into the political arena may be necessary, particulary if the politicians are all killed. I wondered silently how he would cope with the inevitable euthenasia of an animal too badly injured or terminally ill to survive. I surmised he would not indulge in a Death Panel.<br /> <br />We moved on to the topic of End of Life Counseling, and the response was unaminous: "Oh my God, that is SOOO stupid". One young scout of local note declared it wasn't fair for everbody else to pay for "Some bum sitting around watching TV". (I double checked the zipper on my purse to make sure my copy of TV Guide was out of sight!).<br /> <br />We talked about the Cash for Clunkers program, most thought it was a failure, scoffed and laughed at the Cash for Appliances idea and one even suggested a Bucks for Blenders program.<br /> <br />On the issue of the 2nd Amendment, the group became more animated. They were talking mostly all at once on this point but I did catch something about the difference between a bear with a baseball bat and a baby with a spoon. Your guess is as good as mine on that one. And a comparison was made between the innocents having the right to protect and/or defend themselves but that there will always be "malfactors" and banning something only makes it more desirable and will create a dangerous underground market. One pointed out and challenged the others to remember Prohibition and what a huge rebellion it created. I asked if any had read or heard about Speakeasys. One of the younger ones said, "Speakeasy...Yeah that's when your Mom's not yellin' at you". A literal translation, I suppose, but maybe the simple truth in his world.<br /> <br />Anyway, the dicussion trailed off at this point but these young minds were invigorated and they began to bounce their ideas off each other. That made me happy. Its the only place to start with this generation and I hope they will continue to think and exchange ideas and formulate potential solutions for the future that awaits them.<br /> <br />It had been raining most the day and the day before but these guys didn't seem to mind, ankle deep in mud and short of an archery event and no bon-fire. I asked one the adults how they all made it through the rain storms. I was told the young scouts jumped on it and set up camp despite the weather.That's the spirit! As I was leaving, they got back on their bikes for another ride down Old Chappell Hill Road. The 700 or so big-time cyclists attending the annual annual <span style="font-weight:bold;">Chappell Hill Bike Ride </span>sponsored by <span style="font-weight:bold;">Chappell Hill Bank</span> were gone with their fancy bicycle stuff and their sea of spandex and brightly colored helmets that sort of make them look like a carton of Easter eggs. These young scouts didn't mind, even the one in second-hand tennis shoes with the 25 cent price tag still stuck to the toe. They carried on beaming smiles and echoing laughter and jokes and a little bit of "What's for supper?". Knowing the Host of this event, I'm sure it had something to do with Fajitas, and alot of it, painstakingly grilled, in the rain, in his lean-to smokehouse. A round of applause for the tireless Host and his fellow Troop Leaders/Volunteers!<br /> <br />I really did sleep well that night. With a deep sigh of relaxation I thought, ya know?...there is hope for our civilzation, society, especially with such bright, intellegent and strong young boys like the ones I met from <span style="font-weight:bold;">Troop 652</span>, poised to inherit the future. Us older ones should have confidence and reassurance in the eventual passing of the Torch of Freedom and Protection of our Constitutional Rights to individuals such as these. Far as I could see, these are capable hands, thinking, paying attention and straight as an arrow. When they do get that archery badge, we can proudly call them Arrowheads!<br /> <br />Oh, and if I ever have to pitch a tent in the rain, I want these guys on my side, or at least on my speed dial. I'm sorry their archery match was rained out, but make no mistake about these guys; their <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">AIM</span></span> is true! And in my book, that's a <strong><em>Bull's Eye!</strong></em> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT<br /></span> <br />COPYRIGHT PENDING<span style="font-weight:bold;"></span>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-27045591892066734552009-09-04T20:24:00.000-07:002009-09-08T16:30:36.677-07:00GREENSLEEVES:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVm4FExT8b5knHuKmMHVTqBDlCkde-KQII72R3dsxrLY-J0m6K2BNoDlFmZH3ViKVYHUDV3kejqzcgNIkoEnW53DqLl6ZsdaOuyfblQVIWWl7J-SJLnYgfd1TFBHWoekJXQnA8NBOyP3r_/s1600-h/1391-11-being-kermit-the-frog.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVm4FExT8b5knHuKmMHVTqBDlCkde-KQII72R3dsxrLY-J0m6K2BNoDlFmZH3ViKVYHUDV3kejqzcgNIkoEnW53DqLl6ZsdaOuyfblQVIWWl7J-SJLnYgfd1TFBHWoekJXQnA8NBOyP3r_/s320/1391-11-being-kermit-the-frog.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377825077141579954" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Once upon a time, '<span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">green</span></span>' was a simple idea. When most of us were comin' up, there was only <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">one</span></span> green in the Crayola box. We were spared from the confusion, frustration and anxiety of having to discern the difference between <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Blue Green, Hunter Green, Fir Green, Olive Green, Lime Green, Grass Green, Green Shoots and so on. </span></span><br /> <br />Back then, the only words of warning and wisdom about '<span style="font-weight:bold;">green</span>' were delivered in terms like <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Green with Envy, The Green Eyed Monster, "Don't get on that horse, he's only Green Broke</span></span> ( which is a couple of bucks short of being broke) and that slimy stuff on whatever it was in the refrigerator that was too old to eat.<br /> <br />Then things changed. Plopped down in front of the color TV, us kids found a deep and abiding affection for <span style="font-style:italic;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Kermit the Frog</span></span>, a charming, yet woe-begone little <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">green</span></span> frog with a heart frought with unrequited love for Miss Piggy (a diva-bankster, truly a Material Pig), through Sesame Street and sang along to the sit-com music of <span style="font-weight:bold;">Green Acres</span>. And who can forget that first or second guitar lesson where we learned the first few chords of <span style="font-weight:bold;">GreenSleeves</span>, which endures even today.<br /> <br />And while some of us felt empathy for poor little Kermit when he crooned "<span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">It's Not Easy Being Green</span></span>" little did we know, or could even imagine, just how true his lament was to become in the case of the current <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Green Czarist Incarnation</span></span>. <br /> <br />Today we find ourselves not only still befuddled by the different shades of green, but our <span style="font-weight:bold;">Fearless Leader and Champion of Change</span> has provided our country with, what does He call it,<span style="font-weight:bold;"> The Czar of Green Jobs? </span> If we were to actually have a viable job market not attached to some dwindling life support system, we could call it a <span style="font-weight:bold;">Green Jobs Bizarre! </span>Used to be, <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">green</span></span> jobs meant mowing the lawn or pruning the trees, planting a vegetable garden...honest, wholesome work that would earn you a <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">green back</span></span>. <br /> <br />Now, not to put too fine a point on it, first off, I'm kinda uncomfortable with this whole Czar thing...(or in this case, this A**hole Czar thing). Do we really need Czars <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">green</span></span> or otherwise? More importantly, do we need or want such a Czar clearly crippled with the lack of articulation and a pronounced dependence on profanity and vulgarity when referring to others? How does such a person ascend to such a position within the <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Administration of Complete Salvation and Redemption</span></span>, Oh, and "<span style="font-weight:bold;">CHANGE</span>". Perhaps he has climbed the political ladder or alternatively the proverbial (<span style="font-weight:bold;">GREEN</span>) Bean Stalk that Jack did. (No offense intended to JFK).<br /> <br />In our Nation's capital, will we soon be calling the house on Pennsylvania Ave. the<span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;"> GREEN HOUSE?</span></span> Could this be part of the <em><strong>Green House Effect</strong></em> or is it the source of it? <br /> <br />Kermit was right. <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">It's Not Easy Being Green!</span></span> And now, our young school children are not struggling over which green Crayon to pull from the box but are further charged with sign painting flattering images of The Fearless Leader, composing letters to themselves on<span style="font-weight:bold;"> "<span style="font-style:italic;">How Can I Help The President"</span> </span>and memorizing the words to insipid sing-along songs exhaulting the President. <br /> <br />An old cowboy once said "I don't buy green bananas". Good advice it would seem in retrospect. Thankfully, in our<span style="font-weight:bold;"> <span style="font-style:italic;">Lovely Village</span></span>, we tend to understand that being <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">green</span></span> is alot more about protecting our children, preserving our Constitutional rights, standing up for what's right and barking at that which is wrong. Perhaps the Crayola folks can come up with a new color for the box; True Blue-Green.<br /> <br />Listen carefully to what's goin' on. All that glitters is not <strong>GREEN!</strong><br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</span></span><br /> <br />P.S. Whatever happened to Mr. <span style="font-weight:bold;">GREEN</span>spam?<br /><strong>COPYRIGHT PENDING</strong>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-68520946505174190192009-08-26T12:25:00.000-07:002009-08-26T13:19:14.374-07:00BURNING CANDLES AT BOTH ENDS:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj23_vkaJcC4P2ZyGgMqaFuAxklPzzVElhy3Lh2324kmz4BycNqYF5xUAne-28UF6BVJwq2WfnFAj1cAYOuRNgVtvCzjDcBAWkuNuf3Zuj-jAmIo9XqHACevNPkSkBB1Fhub74vkrBUSoYI/s1600-h/Blow+the+cake.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj23_vkaJcC4P2ZyGgMqaFuAxklPzzVElhy3Lh2324kmz4BycNqYF5xUAne-28UF6BVJwq2WfnFAj1cAYOuRNgVtvCzjDcBAWkuNuf3Zuj-jAmIo9XqHACevNPkSkBB1Fhub74vkrBUSoYI/s320/Blow+the+cake.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374359722064472402" /></a><br /> <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">A Cake Walk.</span></span><br /><br /><br />So much in this life happens that we wish with all our heart we could take back, change or live-down. Far too much time spent in regret, in my view, but nevertheless, its part and parcel to our "experience". <br /> <br />For instance, on one occasion of the birthday of my <em><strong>Most Cherished Mother,</strong></em> (the actual year of her birth we are not privy to), my sisters and I, with the treasured help of our Nanny, secretly baked her a cake. It was such an event, my sisters fluttering about and our Dear Lannie making sure the frosting was just right. The cake was completed, candles and all, and stowed away in a cabinet in the kitchen awaiting the big moment. All was going well, everyone was prepared and the four of us girls waited with grand anticipation for Mother to return home from the Beauty Shop. <br /> <br />We had it all timed out. Well, really and truly Lannie and my sisters had it all timed out, and when Daddy arrived, his job was to contain the "wild card". Meaning 4 year old me. He came in the front door, glee and excitement all over my sisters' faces, and he immediately scooped me up in his arms in an effort to squelch the enthusiasm. My Mother arrived home, fresh from the Beauty Shop, coifed and curled and sprayed and the moment arrived. Perched on the steps to the breakfast room and kitchen, my sisters prepared for the presentation of the cake. Daddy had a momentary lapse and failed to halt the spontanious outburst of his youngest girl: <span style="font-weight:bold;">"I SMELL CAKE!! I SMELL <em>BIRTHDAY CAKE</em>!!!" </span>That was it. Can never be taken back and a surprise Birthday party ruined single-handedly by a four year old.<br /><br />I'll never live that one down and I am frequently reminded of it...So here's what I suggest:<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">NO MORE BIRTHDAYS!</span> In fact, as Mayor, I propose a moratorium on birthdays, surprise or otherwise.<br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"> *PROCLAMATION AND ORDER*<br /></span> <br />As of this date, all birthdays beyond the actaul age of 45 shall be <br /> <br />eliminated,unrecognized and regarded as unlawful and without merit of any sort. All good <br /> <br />citizens shall remain 45 years old in perpetua given the age of 45 is just sufficiently beyond <br /> <br />the carelessness and wrecklessness of youth and sufficiently steeped in some wisdom minus <br /> <br />the synicism of a more advanced age.<br /> <br /> <br /> It is further <span style="font-weight:bold;">Decreed and Declared</span> that all Driver's licenses and passports shall be renewed <br /> <br />retroactively and shall report year of birth as 1964. This will eliminate the reviled, of late, so <br /> <br /> to speak, proposal of subjecting aging and/or ailing citizens to <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">"End of <br /> <br />Life Options and Counseling". </span></span><br /> <br /> <br />Alternatively, <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">"Endless Life Options and Counseling" </span></span>shall be made available through<br /> <br />qualified professionals with services including, but not limited to, <span style="font-weight:bold;">"The Proper Use of <br /> <br />Sunscreen"; "Maintaining That Youthful Glow"; "Gray! Gray! Go Away" </span>(a home study <br /> <br />tutorial) and a special series, <span style="font-weight:bold;">"The Eternal Flame: How To Keep The Love-Lamp On".</span>(also <br /> <br />available on DVD with musical soundtrack featuring Barry White and Marvin Gaye). <br /> <br /> <br />Further <span style="font-weight:bold;">Ordered and Decreed</span>, any individual requiring attention to special needs, whether <br /> <br />physical, visual or mental, that are not "age appropriate" will be dealt with with the utmost<br /> <br />consideration and complete discretion.<br /> <br />With regard to <span style="font-weight:bold;">Birthday Cake</span>, no restrictions, except the number of birthday candles which <br /> <br />shall not exceed 45. <br /> <br />It is further <span style="font-weight:bold;">Ordered</span> that the actual counting of the number of candles be prohibited. <br /> <br />Birthday candles can continue to be "blown out".<br /> <br /><br />Requests for birthdates prior to 1964 shall be considered and contemplated on a case by case <br /> <br />basis. For obvious reasons, this shall be treated as a request for assisted suicide, "first come, first serve", as this can be construed as a time sensitive issue.<br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">SO ORDERED AND DECREED BY THE OFFICE OF THE MAYOR<br />***********************************************<br /></span> <br />(Ladies!, Think of the money we'll save on anti-aging eye cream and face lifts!! 75 will be the new 45! Hey, the Guvmint lies all the time, we can surely take a dusty leaf from that book and lie about our age and I, for one, will want to see proof of just how old this "counselor" is while advising me of the most cost-effective way to die! I suspect he or she will be somewhere in the neighborhood of 45-ish.<br /> <br />Go on and celebrate your birthdays, but don't <span style="font-weight:bold;">COUNT</span> those candles before you blow them out! Be judicious and modest or else they could wind up as simply Candles in the Wind. In this case, <span style="font-weight:bold;">less is truly more.</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT<br />COPYRIGHT PENDING</span>Mayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-49124214131064900892009-08-14T08:59:00.000-07:002009-08-14T20:17:01.882-07:00FISH OR CUT BAIT<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRXfktgPZArtUjGIgYa3UviPnzNDwaIyqe19J7Fro-VDxeePo9bj9W5zEjmizDtbdbo3exSXC6jwIpYj24RLoPxkjeHP-lefPQ1uKkQivsmCVdU39Z2h9Qu8ClGMr3hKFJJwCjv195X9hK/s1600-h/bass_to_bass_no_bkgrd_pd2m.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRXfktgPZArtUjGIgYa3UviPnzNDwaIyqe19J7Fro-VDxeePo9bj9W5zEjmizDtbdbo3exSXC6jwIpYj24RLoPxkjeHP-lefPQ1uKkQivsmCVdU39Z2h9Qu8ClGMr3hKFJJwCjv195X9hK/s400/bass_to_bass_no_bkgrd_pd2m.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369850586735754770" /></a><br />When I was just a kid, my Dad used to tug me out of bed at the un-christian, yet crisp hour of 3:00 a.m. to go fishin'. He always made me eat a peach in an effort to stave off sea-sickness. It never worked and without going into detail, it is the reason I cannot stand peaches. Even today, lo these many years later, the sheer sight of a peach or the scent of a peach flavored candle can send me to the rail. But by the time we got out of the bay and into the Gulf of Mexico, all was right again with the world. Great therapy; lapis blue water, endless sky, a nice fishin' pole and rod n' reel, a can of worms and some chum and hours to spend with my Dad perfecting my cast. I got pretty good at it, the casting and catching part, but deferred to my father to do the scaling and all that other surgical stuff. <em>"I'll catch 'em if you </em><em>clean 'em"</em> we used to banter back and forth and it always made us chuckle. Sometimes, if luck was on our side, we'd catch enough to snack on Ceviche with some Saltine crackers. We'd get back to the bay house and my mother would complain about how sunburned I was and fussed my Dad to hurry and shower to get that fishy smell off of him. Best fish dinners I can ever recall.<br /> <br />But, nowadays, goin' fishin' has taken on a more decidedly sinister meaning. We are now apparently supposed to report any communication, by e-mail or an off-hand comment made at the grocery store or by any other means anything that might be <strong>"fishy"</strong> with regard to the policies of our Guvmint ; turn that hapless person into some Guvmint agency, providing them with email addresses, content and identity. <span style="font-weight:bold;">WHERE ARE WE?</span> That this notion could even be bandied about is pretty frightening. <span style="font-weight:bold;">WHAT IS THIS?</span> Some Maritime version of <em>"Invasion of the Body Snatchers"? </em><strong><br /><br />I smell peaches, where's the rail?!</strong><br /> <br />I am reminded of the one time my fishin' trip with my Dad turned ugly (not counting the peach ritual). We were way out in the Gulf, and since my Dad had caught a beautiful Blue Marlin and had it mounted, I wanted one, too. At last, I hooked a big one! I pursed my lips and gritted my teeth and fought that fish for what seemed like hours. My arms were tired and heavy but the dream of a Blue Marlin was motivation enough. Well, that and the fact my father wouldn't let me quit. That rascal fish darted under the boat more than once and my fear was my fishin' pole would snap. Exhausted, but exhilerated, I got the fish to the surface and Daddy lept to the side of the boat with the net. I had gotten lucky because the fish had swallowed the hook and had no escape but to break the line or the pole. Daddy reached down and netted the fish. Mopping sweat, I was sure my eyes were foolin' me. That fish was no Blue Marlin. In fact it was the ugliest creature I had ever seen; a Hammerhead Shark. Daddy cut the line and said " Maybe next time". I curled up and cried all the way back to the bay.<br /> <br />Anyway, I guess I tell you this because I am concerned with all this reporting of anything <strong>"fishy". </strong>Sometimes what you believe is a Blue Marlin is actually a Hammerhead Shark. Don't take the hook, I say, and by all means don't swallow it. <br /> <br />But if you find yourself <strong><em>'wishy to report something fishy'</em></strong> , remember the old sayin', "A fish stinks from the <strong></strong>head down". Start there.<br /> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT<br /></span> <br />COPYRIGHT PENDINGMayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-50687404166708308982009-08-08T13:03:00.000-07:002009-08-13T13:59:52.147-07:00TOWN HALL ENVY<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQEl8eBLT_r_Z5I1VDmQtp_8OAjt44XL5h1xAg-ttDNUV7lITyiLOQrBoXQM60bVk33ADWWiUenG4clJGCDbGAoLTIxFaANHWv1jU1e32fW-FLTKpX6yqK6ac5cunYsRI83s2JPyvppK-E/s1600-h/Mob+at+the+Capital.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 358px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQEl8eBLT_r_Z5I1VDmQtp_8OAjt44XL5h1xAg-ttDNUV7lITyiLOQrBoXQM60bVk33ADWWiUenG4clJGCDbGAoLTIxFaANHWv1jU1e32fW-FLTKpX6yqK6ac5cunYsRI83s2JPyvppK-E/s400/Mob+at+the+Capital.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367797685803034050" /></a><br /><br /><strong>FELLOW VILLAGERS:</strong><br /><br />I'm sure you all have been watching and/or reading about the <span style="font-weight:bold;">TOWN HALL<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> phenomena moving across our Nation over this Healthcare business and our Congress responding to our right to free speech with schoolyard name calling the fine folks an <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Angry Mob</span></span>. I, too, have been covered with it like Grandma's Smothered Steak and at one point, I really thought I had had enough. But even with all the redundant reporting, it began to stir up something else and it got me to thinkin'.<br /><br />Why can't WE have a <span style="font-weight:bold;">TOWN HALL</span>? Do we have to be incorporated to have a <span style="font-weight:bold;">TOWN HALL</span>? We have Banquet Halls, Fellowship Halls and have oftentimes used the Catholic church, Museum and Rock Store for occasions of import for our citizens. We can't have a City Hall, but couldn't we have a <span style="font-weight:bold;">TOWN HALL</span>, as long as we don't stutter and accidently call it a City Hall? A place for gatherings, a source of pride and, well, dignity, a symbol of substance. We could use it for all kinds of things and events, meetings, classes, presentations and so on. And, if our <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Great Villagers</span></span> should decide decades from now that they do want to incorporate, it could be converted into a City Hall! <span style="font-weight:bold;">UH-OH.</span> ( Simmer down, I'm not tryin' to open old wounds, I'm entirely nuetral on that issue). We could hold fundraisers to help get it off the ground; and we all know how successful our <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Wonderful Community</span> </span>is at fundraising. ( just ask the <span style="font-weight:bold;">CHVFD</span> and my<span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;"> Dear Husband</span></span>).<br /><br />And really, truth be told, haven't we all deep down, secretly wanted to be part of an real <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Angry Mob</span></span>? Ya know, a real Rebel Rouser, a Freedom Fighter...somewhere inside all of us want to be "The Man Who Shot Liberty Vallance"; righting wrong despite the name-calling. I know some of you remember the 60's and 70's, well, maybe you can't remember everything, but I'm bettin' you were out there protesting something, civil rights, war, women's rights and so on. Lookin' back on it, it was kinda fun, being part of a movement. We wore P.O.W. bracelets, developed the peace symbol, slogans and songs forever memorializing the culture. And some women even burned their bras! (In my view, that's a real bail-out! One alot of us could get behind, or wait, in front of, no, wait....oh nevermind!).<br /><br />Oh well. I guess we'll have to make do with the media coverage. Unless.....How about a <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual Town Hall</span></span>? With a <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual Angry Mob</span></span>, sleeves rolled up and fists all balled up in a collective effort, non-violent, of course, to alter this slow slide down a razor blade into a pool of rubbin' alcohol; refusing to ride shot-gun down the avalanche. A civil but unignorable act of defiance. We could get us a <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual politician</span></span> to come our<span style="font-weight:bold;"> <span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual Town Hall</span></span> meeting and we could ask <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual</span></span> and poignant questions and maybe get some <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual</span></span> answers. All in one most appropriate <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual</span></span> structure in a most appropriate <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual location</span></span>.<br /><br />At the end of the day, I am still completely content to live in our <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Lovely Village Respecting Chickens</span></span>, with or without a <span style="font-weight:bold;">TOWN HALL</span>. We're good folks and life is too short to shout. Besides, think of all that <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual BBQ</span></span> we'd have to impose on our friend and neighbor, the Royal King of BBQ and his wonderful Queen to prepare for such a <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual</span></span> event. And I'm guessin' <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">Virtual</span></span> beer isn't too tasty.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT.<br /></span>COPYRIGHT PENDINGMayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-44975943840052052372009-08-01T19:06:00.000-07:002009-08-24T07:31:18.012-07:00GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOQuefT0J8zxyNDbD-ZYEOtzrwpWm76lYorJbIDCKGzLMgsPfUwBYV-MX-GdErhcPaU0kO4Umn8cOaZxaqvShfMgXsHW9mdiRU_J2afrSLJeXUpwTrnK4xuPBoIN977wHCzWs68T_mQEe/s1600-h/Robbies+robbed.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOQuefT0J8zxyNDbD-ZYEOtzrwpWm76lYorJbIDCKGzLMgsPfUwBYV-MX-GdErhcPaU0kO4Umn8cOaZxaqvShfMgXsHW9mdiRU_J2afrSLJeXUpwTrnK4xuPBoIN977wHCzWs68T_mQEe/s320/Robbies+robbed.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366669724885904642" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The intersection of Hwy 290 and FM 1155 has become so mercurial, quick and changeable, it is difficult to understand what is going on.<br /><br />First the advent of the <strong>Mighty Shell </strong>station buzzing with commuters and Kolkhorst fuel trucks filling the pumps as fast as they can, the wonderful blended aroma of diesel and hamburgers hanging stagnant in the hot summer air and a bank.<br />Speaking of empty tanks, <strong>Robbie </strong>left town but left his butt-ugly building behind much to the delight of the daytime drunks, hobos and others applying their somewhat dubious skills in sales. Not only is this fossilized former fuel stop and C-store an outright <strong>eyesore</strong> but a <strong>hazard </strong>to our <em><strong>Lovely Community</strong></em>.<br /><br />Now, I genuinely understand the owners of that corner wanting to hold onto the lot, but what, pray tell, intrinsic value is there in that run-down building? Guys! <strong>Robbie is gone</strong>! He's not coming back! Even <strong>Robbie</strong> didn't want that hunk-a-junk building and it had his <strong>NAME</strong> on it! At the very least, I would've taken my name off of such a disgrace before leaving town. Or maybe it was Robbie's way of thumbing his nose at the Shell 24-7. A most noted resident, who possesses an acute observational acumen, reports that as of this very morning the name Robbie's has been painted over. A beginning I suppose, but better to have let the name fall into debris and rubble during demolition of the whole rat-hole. Have they even vacuumed out the old fuel? I guess its another case of <strong>GONE BUT </strong><strong>NOT FORGOTTEN</strong>. Or perhaps in this instance its gone AND forgotten.<br /><br />I remember the slow and painful death the Mexican food restaurant suffered there where the Shell etc... now resides. Plans were made, deals agreed upon, handshakes, all fell through and it took years to resuscitate that corner. We just didn't know it would come back to life with such a Belch! For some reason, the street urchins, at least not to my knowledge, never adopted the abandoned Mexican restaurant. There must be some kind of magic at the empty Robbie's because the stoop is filled with "the regulars".<br /><br />I just don't get it! There are plenty of possibilities for that corner, saving another gas station or bank or burger joint or cafe or meat market. Okay, so there aren't <em>plenty</em> of possibilities but surely another "visionary" will emerge and do something! (Save your rotten tomatoes folks, we might need 'em if another visionary shows up with a bad idea!) <br /> <br />Maybe there have been some ideas tossed about; perhaps the terms were too tight or could be the reticence on the part of investors given the disappearing dollar and its mystical way of cloning itself into more worthless paper. I dunno, but I, for one, am sick of looking at it and watching it decay along with its unfortunate evolution into the decadent haven it provides for the unsavory characters that "hang" there. It is downright irresponsible to do nothing. <br /> <br />Also still empty, is the once highly anticipated business going in the new building just down from the <strong>Chappell Hill Cafe and Meat Market</strong>. Our <strong>Beautiful Village </strong>was all a twitter with the rumor of a new BBQ spot, complete with sausage and jerky and baked goods, maybe even some dry goods. A lot of us Villagers already had imaginary BBQ sauce on our shirts and could visualize ourselves workin' on the fourth napkin. But alas, we still are waiting, clinging to our smoked, grilled dreams. We think we know one thing about this endeavor and its possibilities. Judging from the color of the structure, it must be the dream of a Longhorn fan with grace and welcome extended to Aggies and all other Alma Maters and current co-eds from any and all institutions of higher learning. I hope it succeeds and I know some, including my <strong>Dear Husband</strong>, imagines he could purchase the steak of his choice at the <strong>Chappell Hill Meat Market, </strong>then walk it next door and have it grilled at the BBQ place. <em>What a deal that would be</em>! <br /><br />But keep your eyes peeled, maybe something good will happen there at the old Robbie's, maybe not. Just don't peel your rotten tomatoes! It’s always good to have a back-up plan.<br /><strong>SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL FIRE DEPARTMENT</strong>.<br />COPYRIGHT PENDINGMayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-84682810070353598412009-07-20T20:38:00.000-07:002009-07-23T09:32:02.596-07:00Big Cloud No Rain<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3sgV0b5Y0LLPPpc0sMLyCMr6xX2dHUql1dQ5vLpFEnjXJvsXJld3NlA2C7p15i6BetDyn59MOrsVwsMC19z-u4YEdNMcZKWxqbdP12AAB8zPO-T-yqIMgMd7x7IEaVbIKnzECpV9qUsHU/s1600-h/2952381-4-too-late-for-the-rain.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3sgV0b5Y0LLPPpc0sMLyCMr6xX2dHUql1dQ5vLpFEnjXJvsXJld3NlA2C7p15i6BetDyn59MOrsVwsMC19z-u4YEdNMcZKWxqbdP12AAB8zPO-T-yqIMgMd7x7IEaVbIKnzECpV9qUsHU/s320/2952381-4-too-late-for-the-rain.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360755205738727394" /></a><br />There's an old sayin' <em>"Long summer without rain"</em>. It means different things depending on the context. For those of us living in our <strong>Beautiful Village</strong>, it is quite literal. Trees are dying, even the commercially irrigated ones, and the land is so dry its practically barren in some places. Average temperatures have been well into the 100's for more than two months now. And the heat index even higher, 105-110°.<br /> <br />Seems like alot is drying up, in the landscape of our <strong>Lovely Community </strong>as well as the seemingly Evergreen Landscape of our Nation's Lawn. Things once alive and well, made worse by the <em>Drought,</em> now being pulled up by their their withering roots, like unemployed auto workers. All the hope and promise will die on the vine, and the next elixir or snake oil won't make anything grow, no matter how much "watering" gets done. <br /> <br /><em>Gardeners</em> will become rich and most of us won't be able to afford <em>Re-</em><em>Landscaping.</em> We'll probably have to try to do it ourselves and run the risk of getting sick from the heat. With some luck, we'll have a friendly neighbor nearby with some ice water to soothe our scorched throats and burnt skin. Its good to know who your neighbors are, and for that matter who they aren't, you just never know how far this can go, this Drought, and we all know that the longer the Land is stressed, the more likely an opportunity for a <strong>GRASSFIRE</strong>. In some places, crops are frequently burned intentionally to kill off the weeds, bol weevils, grasshoppers and insects to eliminate pests and promote proper growth.<br /> <br />Perhaps next go-round, we should put a Weatherman on the ballot...not necessarily a Meterologist, that's just too elite. No, just a good old fashioned Weatherman, totin' a Farmer's Almanac. Seems predicting the weather is a somewhat more "exact" science than predicting the Atmospheric Conditions in our Guvmint and the wind-shears and the pop-up twisters that exist there. <br /> <br />Contrary to the empty promises of "Blue Skies" as far as the eye can see we hear so much of, the Weatherman will say with considerably more dignity, honesty and reliabily, "20% chaince of rain with partly (not to be confused with party) sunny skies, Tuesday, 30% with thunderstorms likely in the evening".<br /><br />Ya know, now that gives ya some time to get your livestock and equipment moved and such. I think I'd rather listen to the Weatherman than some bloated dignitary tellin' me how its gonna be. Shoot, Bang! All you really have to do is look out your window or walk outside to get the view of it; use your noodle, assuming its not overcooked. Its "right there",as I tell my Bird Dawg. He uses his nose and finds it everytime. <br /> <br />Seems the forecast in our Nation's capital of late is almost never good and I don't know anybody who appreciates havin' to scramble with little, <em>very little</em>, notice that the weather is going to <strong>CHANGE</strong>, dramatically.<br /> <br />I am reminded of the Wizard Of Oz; those poor folks hunkered down in the storm cellar with their potatos and such while Dorothy braves the impending storm for her beloved pet. Then it comes, the Big Twister and some weird, wild-eyed woman pumpin' those bicycle peddles with "dawgged" determination, <strong>"And your little Dawg, too!" </strong>All in pursuit of those <strong>RED</strong> shoes! <strong>(who wears those kinda shoes anyway?</strong> they cramp your feet and will leave you crippled. Best to go with a nice, attractive FLAT).<br /> <br />'Course, that whole saga began when a House fell and a glass of water melted the threat. But I digress.<br /> <br />Anyway, <strong>GRASSFIRE </strong>can be a force to be reckoned with because it can result in a HOUSE-a-fire! And I guess its better than being stuck in a storm cellar eating potatos, hoping the storm will pass.<br /> <br />We could sure use some rain, the real kind.<br /> <br />Support Your Local Fire Department.<br /><br />COPYRIGHT PENDINGMayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-12199891877551569262009-07-11T21:29:00.000-07:002009-07-23T09:32:55.445-07:00WATERMELON WAR<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxeqFDsrnTVYU4F4NjNK_Goqj1IKiN7eedpUMb24njjMDHhWi5WvWsLrEKffpBxshEm0DLetq6Ek7MTkNTyhaPrD7llBdJq_F3pC4pvUPLG99iKlTltmWuOHdYvgMLCeX8f3Kic7t_FclK/s1600-h/square-watermelon.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 205px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxeqFDsrnTVYU4F4NjNK_Goqj1IKiN7eedpUMb24njjMDHhWi5WvWsLrEKffpBxshEm0DLetq6Ek7MTkNTyhaPrD7llBdJq_F3pC4pvUPLG99iKlTltmWuOHdYvgMLCeX8f3Kic7t_FclK/s320/square-watermelon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357427516172322338" /></a><br /> <br /><strong>Fellow Villagers:</strong><br /> <br />Of late, it has come to my attention that along the asphalt pathway to our lovely community, (otherwise known as Highway 290), we have many more <span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelon</span> Vendors than ever before. Of course "ever" assumes a lot since during the last depression, AKA The Great "Water Melon Depression" (WMD not to be confused with the WPA) the price of <strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong>Watermelon</strong></strong></strong></strong></strong></strong> was undoubtedly controlled by the FDR Administration. Just like today, the <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span style="font-style:italic;">"Big Melons"</span></span> are protected by the GuvMint while the small ones are spit out like seeds on the side of the road. But back to the current depression, the 'back of the pick-up' Vendors keep a polite distance from each other, respecting the other's space, (much like the starling birds packed "wing to wing" on a wire just before their migration south on a fall evening gathered around busy intersections all over the west side of the Big How-Town,) thus providing their adoring customers ample opportunity to slide to the side, inspect, thump and purchase the melon of their choice. <br /> <br /> <br />Serious competition. Some <span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelon</span> Vendors have become quite creative in their marketing of this juicy, summertime melon; out-manuvering the competition by moving to the <em>other </em>side of the asphalt pathway in the afternoon to catch the evening commuters. Clever. Madison Avenue would be proud.<br />Especially of the Vendors hawking additional products such as tomatoes and the ever-present berries. Nothing wrong with thinking outside the box...or in this case, outside the bed of the truck. <br /> <br />But I must say, there they sit in this heat, with their beach chairs and umbrellas and <span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelons</span>. This kind of heat melts memory and vigor much like butter on a BBQ pit and as such, Chappell Hill looks more like the Golan Heights in the deserts of Israel than the verdant hamlet so often covered by Texas Highway magazine and other media. But who can blame a guy for doing whatever to make a buck these days...well, not really <em>whatever,</em> but <span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelon</span>, far as I know, is still pretty wholesome, and hey, what would July be without <span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelon</span>!<br /> <br />In our wonderful Nation, <span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelon</span> transends all cultural boundaries. From the White House to the itty-bitty grocery stores, banks and merchants, almost eveybody sports a <span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelon</span> and there is seldom a complaint. <br /> <br />Having said that, I do have to wonder how those fellas on the asphalt pathway feel about it...what is this "bumper-to-bumper" crop of <strong>Watermelon</strong> doing to the price they're getting? Is Our Fearless Leader and Congress going to have to bail them out as well? Might be another pet project or <strong>The Socialization of </strong><span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelon Small Business vendors</span>.<br /> <br />At any rate, be careful in "them waters"(melons)...cars are slipping to the side impulsively to grab their <span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelon</span> and without alot of warning.<br /> <br />I am reminded, as a child, the local swimmin' pool would have a <em>"Fun Day"</em> for us kids. One of the games we played, to the hilarious delight of the adults who saw it coming, the <em>"Lifeguard"</em> would get a large <span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelon</span> and grease it with Crisco, throw it into the pool and blow the whistle signaling the children to "go for it". Whoever captured the <strong>Watermelon</strong> won a ribbon and a Fudge Ice Cream Bar.<br /> <br />Now, trying to grab a greased <span style="font-weight:bold;">Watermelon</span> in the deep end of a swimmin' pool is just about impossible. Most of the time, the Lifeguard would have to come fish us exhausted kids out of the pool and then go get <em>The Big Net </em>for the Watermelon.<br /> <br />So, if you are so inclined to pull over for a melon on our the asphalt pathway, just remember one of the chants from my cheerleading days, when I was young and limber;<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />"WATERMELON WATERMELON WATERMELON RIND<br />LOOK ON THE SCOREBOARD, SEE WHO'S BEHIND"</span><br /> <br />'Course, we were always ahead in the game when we used that cheer. But be careful of those cars suddenly stopping...you don't want to get hit (on)! Although I'm sure our Fearless Leader already knows who's behind is whose. Those G8 summits are so productive.<br /><br />COPYRIGHT PENDINGMayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-80581708524085454202009-07-06T19:47:00.001-07:002009-07-23T09:33:33.204-07:00INDEPENDENCE DAY:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQo4O52HgNc0ZnAvJCD6jT_ILpLRuCEsfjz8m5RB8TnTJhUqrfC4LBUeRpDqcFLa2KP1V4MRAEuQO49YmmE39dZEONC6YyzPtU2REfHqjFQJv6MJcGPBMy5hx2o6nTyrVQwlusgoHKFMH6/s1600-h/DSC00655.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQo4O52HgNc0ZnAvJCD6jT_ILpLRuCEsfjz8m5RB8TnTJhUqrfC4LBUeRpDqcFLa2KP1V4MRAEuQO49YmmE39dZEONC6YyzPtU2REfHqjFQJv6MJcGPBMy5hx2o6nTyrVQwlusgoHKFMH6/s320/DSC00655.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355544717210195954" /></a><br /><br /> <br /><br />As our Wonderful <strong><em><strong>Village Respecting Chickens </strong></em></strong>prepared for the festivities and parade down our metamorphasizing Main Street, I had a most unique vantage point, given my Most Powerful Political Position as D'Mayor.<br /> <br />First off, it was really hot (like ya'll need to be told that), and yet the organizers, vendors and friendly Bankers set about, tossing beads, making lemonade, coolers full of ice, local merchants quick with a smile and many of our fellow Villagers turned out with their lawn chairs and beared the heat in strong support. <br /> <br />Donned in my coveted cap, I toted a bucket of Jolly Ranchers and Dum-Dum suckers up "The Hill" to board the new fire truck. <br /> <br />Let me just say this; Those fine firemen <strong>DESERVE</strong> that new fire truck (except it doesn't have a music box), but as a community, those guys are often our first responders. They are skilled and fearless, true <strong>Patriots</strong>, and are pleased as punch with this new vessel. The navigator of this new engine had a gleam in his eye as we began to move in line. Much like Washington crossing the Potomac...only wrong time of year!<br /> <br /> We were informed we could not toss the candy during the parade...apparently the children are want to jump in front of the fire truck to retrieve the sweets, thus creating potential liability. Unlike the big corporate moguls undaunted and and unafraid of throwing themselves at the ever increasing engine of the Guvment to pick up a few treats. Meanwhile, we hold our breathe, and hope noone get "squshed", 'specially the little ones. (<em>Sound familiar?</em>) My Dear Husband only had to go out and seek these Jolly Ranchers and Dum-Dums at the 11th hour! <em>(Sound </em><em>familiar?).</em><br /> <br />Moving through the motorcade, I spied many friends waving, cheering, waving flags; but mostly, I was moved by the young kids, sitting curbside, less affected by the heat than us, shall we say, more mature ones, with unjaded hope in their faces. That <strong>lifts me up.</strong><br /> <br />What also lifts me up is that fact that our <strong>Fine Volunteer (yes, Volunteer, don't </strong>forget that!) <strong>Fire Department </strong>has a wonderful new Fire Truck thanks to all of the hard work they put into serving the community, and the wives and craftsmen who donate goods for the fundraising efforts...And thanks to ALL of you who support them. <strong>Please continue to do so.</strong> <br />Now, I happen to know there are plenty of <strong><strong><em><strong><strong><em><strong>Jolly </strong></em>Ranchers </strong>and <strong><em><strong>Dum-Dums </strong></em></strong></strong></em></strong></strong>still available. And, if you wish, you can go to the White House or Congress to see which is which...But I think we know.<br /> <br />You are a beautiful and graceful community. Special thanks to the Imperial BBQ King and his devoted Queen for the entertainment and for the indigestion my <em><strong><strong>DEAR HUSBAND </strong></strong></em>happily endured following. Very Generous.<br /> <br />And a special thank you to <strong>MY DEAR HUSBAND </strong>for the roses! I am just so <strong>dad-"BURN</strong>" lucky!<br /> <br />PS: Can we pitch in and get a CD player for that fire truck? Maybe we can scrap one off of GM.<em></em><br /><br />COPYRIGHT PENDINGMayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-45906618090849341122009-06-23T20:28:00.000-07:002009-07-23T09:34:04.267-07:00Full of Hot Air<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8dvqlUVpVN5EzuICCWYudttiZa-9OTr2_4l14mARYeLcvzS3i4UITEoLEpDD9CwjR4-bBHFYOBCDOOPogFSJU-gUD678pbFh9EzU4oZkUzxZYzqgT6ZWB_oevNaj-ITooEOTyPzio9UUJ/s1600-h/balloon13.jpg.jpeg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 244px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8dvqlUVpVN5EzuICCWYudttiZa-9OTr2_4l14mARYeLcvzS3i4UITEoLEpDD9CwjR4-bBHFYOBCDOOPogFSJU-gUD678pbFh9EzU4oZkUzxZYzqgT6ZWB_oevNaj-ITooEOTyPzio9UUJ/s320/balloon13.jpg.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350731739069758418" /></a><br /><br /><br />Its that time of year. People are bbq'n and spittin' watermelon seeds. Another hallmark of the summertime for the "beautiful people" is the fascination with <span style="font-weight:bold;">Hot Air Balloon<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> rides. Not content to float aimlessly over their sylvan suburban nirvanas oohing and ahhhing over the "Lawns of the Month", instead they choose to "drop in" on those of us who have sought sanctuary from the omnipresent rows of McMansions and Burger Kings, OOPS! Perhaps this explains the absence of Hot Air balloons over Czar-Town, there simply isn't a vessel sufficiently sized to contain the volume of hot air (AKA gas) emitted from the hallowed halls of the <span style="font-weight:bold;">Foggy Bottom<span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></span>.<br /> <br />I can remember in our beautiful Village one year when I was startled at the anxiety and furious stampede of our horses. Rushing outside to determine the cause, I spied a couple of <span style="font-weight:bold;">HOT AIR<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> Balloons floating over the place carrying "This Is My Oyster" aviator wannabes who most likely paid a substantial amount of money for the "adventure". <br /> <br />I got the gun and contemplated a well calculated shot at that Balloon but quickly realized the fact that I had been overcome with the "fear of fliers", a concern that would surely pass, albeit slowly. Ultimately, I contacted the appropriate authorities and advised them to "cease and desist" the stampeding of our horses by this <span style="font-weight:bold;">HOT AIR<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> cruising over our property.<br /> <br />You might think that a "small town Mayor" would know little about this ancient form of travel. If you do, you would underestimate the breadth of experience a Victoria childhood can bestow. I've been in a <span style="font-weight:bold;">Hot Air Balloon<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> only once. That was enough. Knowing little of the dangers or finer points of navigating a sack of hot air towards a preferred destination, one late afternoon in May, we piled into a hot air ballon basket with our south Texas survival kit of Brie, Caviar and Champagne and set off from the McCann ranch after the Polo Match. Something went terribly wrong because while we set off from McFaddin, Texas we found ourselves barrelling at a disturbing speed and finally landed in Brownsville. Full of seriousness on the outside and laughter on the inside, Mr. McCann sent cars to come and pick us up and bring us back to the launch pad.<br /> <br />We were "wind-blown" and rattled, but educated and informed to know that there is nothing to gain by investing in HOT AIR and that those who so travel are probably not the sort you would want herding horses.<br /><br />COPYRIGHT PENDINGMayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7068219095052716182.post-72118208068612601552009-06-21T21:00:00.000-07:002009-07-23T09:34:50.935-07:00Small Change: The Dawnings, The Yawnings and The Awnings<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQspK26lx_Scn9shk3f41k-Hift8t9L7aa7AhtSt_SKHaiEgp5cPB2lLdNaSCwV7FCTxVUD-V5SokSokl1vsUNocOprxrVnchB1MrRkkDF-sBaVERQI-eHhMsmGpYQO84aNYHbyHVjj46/s1600-h/NO+CIGAR.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQspK26lx_Scn9shk3f41k-Hift8t9L7aa7AhtSt_SKHaiEgp5cPB2lLdNaSCwV7FCTxVUD-V5SokSokl1vsUNocOprxrVnchB1MrRkkDF-sBaVERQI-eHhMsmGpYQO84aNYHbyHVjj46/s320/NO+CIGAR.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350175496395626610" /></a><br /><br /><br />The early mornings in our lovely Village glisten with the kiss of sunlight and history, a history wrought with war, a women's college and a downtown that just won't die quietly. Many of us regard the Village as a treasure, perhaps even a National Treasure. Given the recent "interest" in our lovely town, from far and wide, you'd have to be taking long siestas under the Brazos River Bridge to not bear witness to some "<span style="font-weight:bold;">changes<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>" that have recently befallen Main Street.<br /> <br />Now, "<span style="font-weight:bold;">Change<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>" is not necessarily a bad thing...ask any woman over 50. Its not easy, but it happens. The question is about BALANCE. <br /><br />Change in Chappell Hill has become a more frequent event than the nations "top" Banksters holding out their tin cups before a spineless congress for the People's (and their grandchildrens') largess(t). Some of the changes have been good and others, well ask the Banksters.<br /> <br />Our charming Main Street is "<span style="font-weight:bold;">changing<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>". What happened to the Awnings that once adorned the old buildings? Will they be replaced, renewed, or I dunno, re-elected/erected?<br /> <br />Have we become complaisant to the value of history or perhaps sadly, just tired of it? Or is this just more "<span style="font-weight:bold;">CHANGE WE CAN BELIEVE IN<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>".<br /> <br />A most regarded and respected resident remarks that once landscape and architecture is altered it could require a somewhat heroic effort to restore an adversely impacted land-mark to its original design character without considerable care and cost.<br /> <br />For instance, take the Constitution and the Bill of Rights of our great country. Think about all the <span style="font-weight:bold;">CHANGES<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> it has been through. As our Founding Fathers are spinning in their graves watching the ticker-tape of Czar-town morphing from a Republic to a Banana Split Republic, one can hear the whispers of warning drowning silent the past acts of Patriots. It required bravery, faith in mankind, dedication, sacrifice and open-mindedness to create such documents; but I doubt any of those fine men would sit by and be satisfied with the bunch of us asleep at the switch, dozing and yawning, only to awaken, dizzy-headed enough to complain about these <span style="font-weight:bold;">CHANGES<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>.<br /> <br />Now, you can <span style="font-weight:bold;">change<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> your clothes, <span style="font-weight:bold;">change<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> the color of your drapes, you can even go through the "<span style="font-weight:bold;">change of life<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>", if you happen to be female; you can <span style="font-weight:bold;">change<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> your mind, several times, it keeps it clean.<br /> <br />What we can't <span style="font-weight:bold;">change<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> is nature, Mother Nature, that is, and according to the Farmer's Almanac, we're in for a hot, dry summer where the only "rain" we are likely to see will be that of Federal Reserve notes pouring down on the Nation like confetti on a national championship parade, the dawning of a "new age". <br /><br />Try not to become the proverbial Cat On A Hot Tin Roof particularly on a cigar store awning. Simmer down, sip some lemonade and think about what, and how much, you want things to <span style="font-weight:bold;">change<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>. Take in the beautiful <span style="font-weight:bold;">dawnings<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> we have out here, <span style="font-weight:bold;">yawning<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span> if you have to, but combine it with a good morning stretch, and as for the <span style="font-weight:bold;">awnings<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>, I guess we'll have wait and see whether they symbolize something far greater, like, well "change". It is, after all, still unfolding.<br /><br />I suppose looked at another way, rather than an horiffic expression in Spanish or a moment in the earth's rotation, Dawn is just another case of "close but no cigar"...<br /> <br />The "Dawn" always brings something to wonder about.In the words of Mae West, "Step aside small change before I spend ya".<br /><br />COPYRIGHT PENDINGMayor of Chappell Hillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05496446817231160708noreply@blogger.com0