How time flies. I know this is a short diary and I apologize in advance, I just wanted to be sure to pay homage to a decent human being and what I believe would be a valuable voice in these turbulent times.
I still miss you, John.
I will post this every year until the day I die.
Leave your laments and memories below.
I lost my Dad on September 14th, 2010. He suffered bravely thru a long battle with stage 4 prostrate cancer. This is my first Father's Day without a Dad to call. No talks about our respective yards and gardens. No advice on how to fix a leak under the sink. No reminiscence of my childhood long past and the decent man that raised me.
I have a distinct memory of one of those talks that a father has with his son from long ago when I was just a toe-headed boy: It was about this time of year and the street we lived on was one of those roads that were annually tarred and sanded (no one in the neighborhood wanted to pony up the extra money in property taxes to have the street paved).
I was hardly 3 or 4 years of age and we were both sitting on our front stoop, Dad with his morning coffee and me next to him after he called my name and waved me out to join him for his summer morning ritual.
They had just tarred and sanded the street and the smell of oil hung in the air so thickly that the odor was very near visible.
With both of us sitting quietly staring at our sparsely traveled street, me shirtless and my father sipping his coffee he turned to me with a simple but gentle admonition. An early life lesson from a worried Dad. He said, "Son, when crossing the street, be sure to look both ways before you do. I don't want anyone to run you over with their car....... if that happened, I would lose my only little boy and the best friend I have in the world and I don't want that to ever happen. Do you understand?" I nodded in agreement, naively unaware at the time that this would become one of the fondest memories of my childhood.
From that day to this, the smell of tar oddly brings a smile to my face.
So, for this Father's Day, my first without "Pop", I just wanted to tell him that I miss him and love him still....... So, here goes:
It's a simple offering, I know. But here's a song for Christmas that we can all agree on.
I lost my father this past September and I'm feeling a little sentimental. I can be such a sap sometimes.
Anyway, here you go......
I don't want baubles and candies....
I just want to hug everyone I know.
Life is short. Love the one you're with.
Narrator: As the Grinch took the tree, as he started to shove, he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove. He turned around fast and he saw a small Who. Little Cindy Lou Who, who was no more than two. She stared at the Grinch and said...
Cindy Lou Who: Santie Claus, why? Why are you taking our Christmas tree? Why?
Narrator: But do you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick, that he thought up a lie and he thought it up quick.
Grinch: Why my sweet little tot...
Narrator: The fake Santie Claus lied...
Grinch: ...there's a light on this tree that won't light on one side. So I'm taking it home to my workshop, my dear. I'll fix it up there, then I'll bring it back here.
Narrator: And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted her head, he got her a drink and he sent her to bed. And when Cindy Lou Who was in bed with her cup, he crupt to the chimney and stuffed the tree up. Then he went up the chimney himself, the old liar, and the last thing he took was the log for their fire. On their walls he left nothing but hooks and some wire. And the one speck of food that he left in the house was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.
When I read what you're about to read, I immediately thought about the scene above.
I know, I know.......
I loved him.
He was just getting to his feet after a long sabbatical.
He loved Humanity.
I miss him dearly, still.
John Winston Lennon.
At the request of 2 initial comments, I edited myself. I am ashamed of this. It will never happen again. To quote Fran Lebowitz:
Polite conversation is rarely either.
Here's the diary in it's original form.
In other words, Lighten up, Francis!
With all the recent talk and wringing of hands over the need for austerity, the tightening of belts, the slashing of entitlements in the never ending quest for the holy grail of reining in national debts and deficits and now federal pay freezes (does this administration even know what it's doing?) amongst the very serious, chattering, chittering, navel gazing, parrots in pancake makeup on the teevee machine, I thought it would be prudent to point out what no one and I do mean no one has even dared bring up the 800lbs fat man in the bathtub.
$750 billion per year. And every year they want a raise!
I know, this is a short diary. I just wanted to drop this off for anyone interested in responding to that ridiculous piece of GOP theater:
A video for your enjoyment.
So, without further comment..........
The WaPo has released some interesting excerpts of Bob Woodward's new book, "Obama's Wars". Granted, Woodward should be taken with a grain of salt. After all, he is a treasure trove of conventional wisdom and D.C. douchebaggery. However, with that said, in the book, Woodward details the struggles of the Obama administration has and continues to have with the military in the never ending wars that are costing us dearly in terms of blood and treasure.
But there is a money quote in the WaPo piece that needs highlighting.
Shorter version: Petreaus needs to be fired. Period.
Born to Sam and Bertha Sampson of Buffalo Center, Iowa on a small family farm of about 60 acres. He was the seventh child of ten, born on February 5th, 1921. Like many American farm-families he was birthed in the house, as were his brothers and sisters before and after him.
That same year, Adolf Hitler became the leader of the NSDAP. Sixteen years prior, the Empire of Japan had defeated the Russians in the Russo-Japanese War...............
I have had it with politics. I've had it with the virulent right wing of this country. I've had it with the pernicious GOP pushing any hateful story for political gain. I hate it all.
However, what I hate even more than all of those things, is what I had to do today.
Today I lost my best friend of 15 years to diabetes and complications unknown.
His name was Dewhickey. Or, Dewey, Bubbela-Doo, Dancing Dewey...... in short, anything that fit him at the moment. He was an important part of my life and I will miss him dearly.
He spent the better part of the last weekend in an emergency vet clinic, trying to sort out his varying problems. When he refused to eat or drink, I had to do the right thing and pull him out, bring him home, and have our personal vet come over and send him on his way.
This has been one of the hardest days of my life. It most certainly has been the shittiest summer I've ever experienced. With the certain death of my father yet to come, losing my job because a christian fundamentalist state senator saw fit to push thru draconian laws in the state of Missouri, and now the sudden decline and death of my best friend, Dewhickey, well.... I've had better days...........
As many of you know, Markos has a new book coming out. The American Taliban
It's not hyperbole. It's not sensationalism. It's not hyper-partisanship.
And it's scary.
Check out our American Pantie Sniffers....... Complete with guns and militarism!!!!