Friday, November 11, 2016

A beautiful day

I woke up this morning to an absolutely beautiful day in South Georgia. I walked out of the house right at daylight to say," Good morning, Lord". I also spoke to my little white deer who has taken to bedding up in the grass in our yard even though we have the yard lighted. It is a crisp 38 degree morning, and I am envious of all of the fun our guests are going to experience today. I was in such a great mood and frame of mind. Then I went and ruined all of that by turning on the news!

First of all, let me say that I am very proud of the way President Obama, President-elect Trump, and the defeated candidate, Secretary Clinton, have handled this transition. This is what a democracy is all about. This is also Veterans Day, and I honor all of the brave men and women today who wore the uniform so that this type of election and transition could occur. Many of these brave folks paid the ultimate price for us to go to the polls, and accept the will of the people.

What I am ashamed of is the anarchists and spoiled college punks who did not get their way, and who are using the election as an excuse to riot and destroy property. I am not a conspiracy theorist, but I do believe that some of these folks are being paid to foment strife. The college kids probably bother me the most with the way they are being pampered and coddled with " comfort foods" and free passes from class because they did not get their way. I have seen the grave sites of the generation of our ancestors that were college age who stormed the beaches of Normandy.

I fear that each successive generation of American citizens are getting softer. I remember whining to my mother once about how hard my Dad was working me in the tobacco and peanut fields. She just looked at me , smiled, and said," Honey, you have it easy compared to the way his father worked him". I hated pulling weeds out of peanut fields by hand so much that I would often fake a stomach ache to go home. I got caught in the " Little Boy who cried Wolf" trap finally because I really did have a bad stomach ache one day. Pop thought I was faking, and would not allow me to go home. By the time, they finally took me to the doctor, my appendix had ruptured,my liver had an abscess, and I had gangrene in my stomach. They did not give me much of a chance to survive, but God was not finished with me yet.

When Cader IV came along, I made him work in every crappy job we had on the plantation in the summer time including scooping the doo-doo out of the kennels. When he got old enough, I gave him a pocket knife. I caught him playing with it in an unsafe manner one day and warned him to be careful. As you would expect, he cut his hand, and came to me with the blood running off of his hand. I looked at it, and determined that the cut did not need stitches. He asked me what he should do, and I replied," Pee on it, and pour some turpentine on it". To say that he was not happy with the answer or my lack of compassion would be an understatement, but I have raised a son who is a man now in every definition of what the word,"man" implies.

I have no sympathy for these cry babies in college now, and place most of the blame on their parents and teachers. OK, that finishes my rant for the day; so let's go back to the first paragraph of this blog.

It is a beautiful fall in South Georgia. Y'all come see us!

3 comments:

  1. Very interesting and accurate. I come from a rather unusual political family development. My grandfather, the first Jack Packard, died in a be with a LARGE photo of Franklin D Roosevelt on the wall over his head. My parents continued as Dems, but in college I decided that wasn't the right team for me, so I became a Republican, fairly active in my under-forty years. I was an Advance Man for Nixon and ended up as ticket chairman for his second inaugural ball.

    Keep on keepin' on.

    JBB

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  2. Truly disappointing that these young protesters don't understand this great nation democratic process and why are they in college.

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  3. , Don't dismiss the healing power of peeing on your hands. I found that out at my 16th birthday when Dad put me to work as a masonry tender laborer handling CMUs. It works, but you have to remember to wash your hands in the mortar mixers water or your lunch will taste and smell terrible.

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