PHOOEY!

To me Lester Garfield Maddox will always be the face that I see when I think of a Democrat.

Lester was Governor of Georgia from 1967 until 1971, then he became Lieutenant Governor under Jimmy Carter. Before all of that he ran a family style restaurant in Atlanta called the Pickrick Cafeteria, which he managed to keep segregated well into the late 1960s. He even went so far as to banish a handgun and an ax handle to defend his cafeteria against people of color, forcing them to stay out.

Even with all this he was elected Governor of Georgia in 1966, by defeating Republican rival Bo Callaway. As Governor, old Lester continued to manifest his anti-black sentiments. Upon the death of Martin Luther King, Jr, he denied the slain civil rights leader the honor of lying in state in the Georgia state capitol building, also in 1968 he highly endorsed George Wallace of Alabama for President of the the United States.

Lester's favorite saying was "Phooey", and he used it liberally when ever he did not agree with something. His other great claim to fame was that he liked riding his bicycle backwards around the Governors mansion, while sitting on the handle bars. He was photographed many times by the national news services doing this.

On the good side Old Lester loved to have his picture taken with groups of visiting school children, who made the field trip to Atlanta to tour the state capitol. The Old Chief was no exception, and was lined up along with Mrs. Cranfords fourth grade class on the steeps inside the rotunda, to have our picture made with the smiling Governor. Phooey!

After serving as Governor and Lieutenant Governor, Old Lester ran a bar and souvenir shop in the original underground Atlanta where you could buy autographed ax handles. As teenagers we on occasion managed to sneak in under-age to drink beer and see some of the local rock bands of the day play there. Old Lester never seemed to mind, always one to make up his own rules. He also tried his hand at being a stand up comedian, and was the inspiration for a Randy Newman song titled "Rednecks". He ran for Governor again in 1974, but lost to George Busby, and he staged one last unsuccessful bid for the office in 1990.

To me Old Lester is the prime example of why the Democratic party symbol is a donkey, only I would have used a different name for the creature.

Phooey, Old Chief Sends,

Drill, Baby, Drill

POTUS wants to open up areas off the east coast and the Gulf of Mexico to drill for oil. I can not wait to hear the liberal spin on this broken campaign promise! This should be an entertaining day.

I personally heard him say as a presidential hopeful, while standing on the banks of the St. Johns river in Jacksonville Florida, that there was no benefit to this, and it was something that he would not consider. I am sure my liberal friends will try to convince me that is not what he meant, and that it must have been the tinnitus in my ears acting up.

Now I am some what of a tree hugger, I like trees. I would rather send time out in the woods than to be around a lot of people that I know. I love the ocean, I have spent a great deal of my adult life on the open sea, and I want to see it protected. I even had an ecology symbol on my high school ring. I was trying to be green before it was a cool catch phrase.

To use our resources wisely is the right thing to do. We have to cut our dependence on foreign resources. I have a lot of friends who are in the tree business, and a favorite saying with them is "If you want more forests, use more paper". They will plant more trees, I guarantee that. On the same note we can drill without hurting the ocean, drill platforms are magnets for all kinds of fish, over time it could become just like a man made reef, and the fish could actually prosper.

So as much as it pains me to say so, Sir I agree with you on this one, but don't dare think it buys my vote.

Orville The Dragon

Today we started seeing iguanas again, sunning themselves around our building. It has been a hard winter for them, as it has been colder than normal in the Keys. Iguanas are not indigenous to the Florida Keys, When B and I lived here in the early nineties there were no iguanas running around free. People who kept these lizards as pets must have freaked out when their cute little lizards grew to the size of alligators , and just turned them loose. In the wilds of south Florida and the Keys, the iguanas prospered and spread. I guess that sharing space with the iguanas doesn't bother me too much, they don't seem to cause much trouble. I do how ever take exception to the Burmese pythons, and cobras that also seem to be prospering in south Florida. We have all seen these stories on the news shows.

Now I got to thinking about small dragons, funny how my mind works at times. I was reminded of my favorite dragons when I was a child. I used to watch Bennie and Cecil the seasick sea serpent cartoons, some of the first I remember seeing. We had black and white television, and next to Bennie and Cecil my favorite show was the Popeye Club with Officer Don. Officer Don was a local broadcaster in Atlanta Georgia, who dressed up as a friendly police officer, and children loved him.

I have to pause here, and try to explain to a lot of people, how television in those days was a very regional operation. The Popeye club appeared on television every afternoon from 4:30 till 5:30. The show was broadcast live from WSB studios, housed in what then seemed to be a huge building at the corner of Peachtree Street and Beverly road. The building had huge white columns and in fact was referred to as "White Columns on Peachtree". The show featured a live audience of children every day, and every day it was a different group of kids. It was popular in those days for parents to take a group of kids to appear on the show as a birthday party, sort of the Chucky Cheese of it's day.

On the show between showing Popeye cartoons, children were allowed to play games and win prizes. Games such as musical chairs and the all time favorite Oooie Gooie. In Oooie Gooie there was a lazy Susan turn table loaded with paper bags all the bags had a prize except one, and it held a mixture of raw eggs, mud, syrup and anything gooie. A child was blind folded and the bags were spun around, then the child would reach into the bag hoping to win a prize and more times than not would stick their small hand into goo.

Now your thinking what has this to do with dragons and lizards? Officer Don had a puppet side kick called Orville the Dragon. Orvil appeared through a wobbly piece of plywood that served as part of the shows set, and provided comic relief to Officer Don.

Now, in the year of 1965, the old Chief got to make his television debut on the Popeye club. The occasion of the trip to the show was my friend Tim's birthday. We got to leave school piled into Tim's Mom"s car, about half a dozen of the best behaved young men that the world had ever seen. All our faces were washed clean and we were dressed in our best looking clothes, because no mother wanted her child to appear on WSB television looking like we had running wild playing on a dirty playground. I think I even had on new underwear, because Mom said you could just never know what might happen.

I did not want to play any games or count down any cartoons, I wanted to rip the head off Orville the Dragon, and pull him off the hand of the puppeteer on live television. I would be the hero of the known universe. My plan was to be picked for a segment where you could go up and stand on a peach crate look Orville in the eye and ask a question, which he would answer with a joke.

The time came and Officer Don asked, who would like to ask Orville a question, and I was chosen, because no one else really wanted to do it anyway, you did not win a prize for asking a question.

I made my way from the bleacher seats to the plywood set climbed up on the shaky peach crate and Officer Don said " go ahead ask your question". I had a moment of brain lock, I didn't really have a question. I forgot that part of the plan. Then I burst out, why are you green? What a stupid question, how could I ask that? No matter, at this point the plan started moving ahead, I reached through the window in the plywood and grabbed the puppet dragon. Try as I might I could not pull it off the puppeteer's hand, but I continued to pull as the show went off the air.

The puppeteer was not amused, and Officer Don just smiled, but for one fleeting moment I was a hero.

Officer Don, is still around and writes a blog about being in the television business for over fifty years. Officer Don, here's to you thanks for making the world a fun place to grow up in, and if you see Orville tell him I am sorry.

Old Chief sends.

Dale

Bicycles are one of the main forms of transportation on our island. It could almost be the perfect green form of transportation, if it was not for the tourists who see fit to continue the war of northern aggression, by driving their cars and SUVs on our narrow streets because they are in just too much of a hurry to walk or bike. So one must be forever vigilant when riding to avoid being flattened into the pavement.

I have a dumpster bike. It's called a dumpster bike, because that's where it was headed when I rescued it, and recycled it into my transporter. At one time my bike was state of the art, sported eighteen speeds, but alas because of ruined derailleurs now it only supplies one. What was once shiny chrome is now rust, and the brakes can be an iffy situation. It is old, but still gets around, a lot like the old Chief.

This morning after all my domestic chores were caught up with, I grabbed my camera and headed out. My intent was to ride the bike across the island to the Truman waterfront to the ocean festival, maybe take some pictures, eat some fritters or shrimp and enjoy the beautiful day. This is the point in this tail where the dumpster bike fails me. The front tire is flat. I left the pump at the house up north on the last trip, and also I have very few tools here with me, mainly a leatherman, and a survival knife. Knowing all of this I decide to walk to flat tire dumpster steed to the nearest bike shop on Eaton street. The day was not going the way I had envisioned.

As I limped my despicable rusting two wheeler along, I made the turn on white street, and continued to the corner of Fleming street. As I was turning onto Fleming by the Sunbeam store on the corner, a rather shady sort of fellow started walking my way. "Hey", says he "looks like you got a flat front tire". Wow, what a divine revelation, I thought to myself. What was your first clue, maybe the fact I am dragging it along like the anchor off a ship. Then the man said "bring it over here" behind a boat he pointed to across the street, and" I will fix it for you, it won't take but a minute". I figured, what the heck, maybe he has a compressor and can just put some air in the flat tire for me.

This hulk of a boat blocked a narrow driveway through thick hedges, with just a bike trail around it. When I got by the boat the yard opened up into a rather large space filled with one of the largest bike junk yards I have ever seen, none of which was visible from the street. There was also a very neat old island style southern house that had seen better times, but still very neat. It looked like a scene from that American Pickers show, stuff laying every where.

Dale, as I found out his name, got a small compressor and filled the front tire, but the tube was leaking and it was not going to hold air. Dale then said "I got a used tube around here some where I can change it for you real quick". Once again, I figured what the heck, and let Dale go at it. The first tube he found was a no go, and off he dove into a pile of old wheels and tires looking for another.

As it turns out Dale was a very interesting pleasant person to talk with. He said he had hitch hiked to Key West in 1976 when he was sixteen years old and had been here ever since. We talked about how much the island had changed over the years, and how he came into the bicycle business. Dale sells old bicycles for forty dollars and gives a months maintenance guaranty on each one along with a bill of sale to prove the bike is not stolen. He also fixes up bikes that he gives to the kids on the island that can't afford one. The bike business he said came about after kicking a bad drug problem, and he needed something to keep him busy at night and out of trouble. Things just seemed to have worked out from there.

Dale finally found a tube that would hold air, and had my dumpster bike back in working order.

He said three dollars would be fine, I gave him a five. He told me God Bless you and I said the same to him. We shuck hands, and I knew I had made another friend.

As I rode off toward the water front, I remember what another Key West legend, Captain Tony, used to say, "always look for the good in people". I learned that lesson again today, how true Captain Tony, how true.

Threats

The ever watchful boatman above stands as a memorial in Key West cemetery to the 266 men who died in the explosion of the USS Maine, in Havana harbor on February 15, 1898. This incident helped lead the United States into war with Spain, and to this day still stirs controversy.

I am up way to early on a Saturday, doing laundry no less, and watching the morning news. The last week of news has been painful to watch. I feel at times I am watching our country come apart. I most defiantly do not feel HOPE. Battle lines are being drawn and the President urges it on. This indeed could be a pivotal point for our country.

The left has cred out that they are being threatened, and in no way do I think a threat to anyone life is acceptable behaviour, but when you are an elected official and you stand against your very constituency, pull up your big boy pants and stand by. The left seems to have forgotten all the attacks and protest against President Bush. They seem to have forgotten the outspoken Michael Moore and his propaganda movies. Ah, how selective they are! They really think that most Americans are behind their votes, but they are getting threats, what could be wrong? Heads up, listen to the people who put you there.

I have served our country for 30 years now, wearing a uniform. That in it's self makes you a target. I have served in many areas where people wanted to do us harm as military members. Toughen up Congress, there are always going to be people who don't like you, no matter which side you take. To make a political attack against the other party because you were threatened is unacceptable, and just shows what whiners you are. Just remember when we go to war and fight, we fight for the protesters as well as the supporters. We fight for the left wingers who call us baby killers, as well the right wing who sings our praises. Man up, woman up, when you take a stand, stand by it and expect the return fire.

Old Chief Sends,

Old Duck Hunters Association

Gordon MacQuarrie was a Wisconsin native, who wrote short stories about hunting and fishing. Many of his stories were based around a semi-fictional group of guys known as The Old Duck Hunters Association inc. MacQuarrie lived and wrote from a small cabin on Middle Eau Claire lake in northwest Wisconsin. He was one of our first great outdoor writers.

I am an Old Duck hunter, and as of late have been feeling the pains of withdrawal from the most recent hunting season. I had been watching a flock of coots on the salt pond behind my office for a while now, but today they were gone. I guess that means the cooler weather is also gone as well.

Coots are a waterfowl, sluggish slow-flying black birds, members of the rail family that somewhat resemble ducks. In short coots are ugly, and usually do not create much excitement to duck hunters. I don't get to see many ducks down here on Bone Island, a few teal, here and there on loan from the Bahamas and coots. My flock of coots must have been the last hold outs for the long flight back up north for the summer. Now if only the snow birds would follow, but that is another story.

I was corresponding with my old Navy buddy Dave the other day. Dave lives up in Wisconsin, and is by all accounts the greatest ice fisherman of the north lands. I asked Dave if he had any good duck hunting spots. He said that the birds did not fly through his area much any more. I found that a little disappointing, so I read an old Gordon MacQuarrie story written about shooting blue bills. It gave me hope that the ducks will fly south again next fall, it's just up to us old duck hunters to figure out where they will pass through.

So Dave here to you! You Old Ice Fisherman, and I leave you with a favorite MacQuarrie quote, that I am sure can be related to ice fishing as well. "No sport calling for communion with the dawn can escape a certain air of romantic mystery".

Old Duck Huntin Chief Sends,

Dog Gone

As most of you know I have been hanging around Key West for a while now, and somehow have been inspired to try and write. After all Hemingway wrote here, Tennessee Williams wrote here, Shel Silverstein wrote here, as well as a score of other poets, novelist, and newspaper men. So, why not the old Chief, after all I have written my fair share of fitness reports over the years, traveled around the world several times, spent time in war zones gaining a wealth of experiences along the way. Problem is I can't spell cat without spell check and my punctuation is not always the best, so if you grade my posts like my old English teachers, this exercise in blogging might not last too long. Another problem, I kind of like doing it anyway.

I was hanging out on Whitehead street the other day around the house where Ernie Hemingway lived and wrote. There is a damn lot of cats around that house. Legend has it that old Ernie loved cats and I am sure he did, I have seen the pictures. My wonderful wife loves cats too, we have six or so around our house up north, and I have learned to tolerate them and even kind of like a few of them (as long as they all stay outside), although not to the Hemingway level.

See I am a dog person. I love all kinds of dogs, mainly bird dogs, but in general all dogs. Another problem I have owned the largest collection of misfit dogs that the good lord ever made. I have tried to work with them, read books about them, became a disciple of the Dog Whisper, and yet I have still been reduced to tears over their behaviour.

Growing up we always had dogs, family dogs treated just like a member of the family. Hunting dogs that were probably smarter than I was. Where are those animals now? Oh we had the occasional nut case dog when I was growing up as well. I remember a Doberman named Gypsy that liked who liked to bite car tires, the problem there is she like to do it when the car was driving down the road. This eventually lead to her demise.

Now as an adult, we had a Golden Retriever mix that was a rescued dog who showed up when we bought the house up north. Any loud noise would cause the poor animal to wet herself, and she would howl at the moon like a wolf from a Jack London story, all night long. Then there was the Leopard Cur who was an escape artist. Spotty could jump a eight foot fence from standing flat footed on the ground. So we ran an electric fence wire around the top of the fence, he got shocked, and a pretty good jolt too, so the next time he looked at the fence twice and jumped higher. He never again came close to touching that wire.

Then there is the tale of the Welsh Terrorist, he came rescued from a puppy mill. He would never house break, even using all the Cesar Millan tricks, and then around $700 spent on one of the best dog trainers in North Florida. He was supposed to be a pure Welsh Terrier, but I am convinced his dad must have been a Tasmanian devil. Holding onto that dog was like holding a running twenty five horsepower out board motor not attached to a boat with one hand. Pure terrorist, he would also bite you in the blink of an eye then look you in the eyes tail wagging a hundred miles an hour.

So now here I sit in a small apartment with no room for a dog, and watch the descendants of Hemingway's cats live like the feline kings and queens that they are. In the meantime I ponder my failure as a dog owner. Another of my favorite writers, the late Gene Hill said " we never really own a dog as much as he owns us". I have been owned like one of Pharaohs slaves, yet I still hope some day to have the pleasure to co- exist peacefully with mans best friend.

Don't Be Cruel

After being drafted into the Army in December of 1957, Elvis Presley reported to the Memphis draft board to be inducted into service, this day in 1958. Now no matter what you think of the boy from Tupelo Mississippi, you have to give him props for interrupting his rock and roll career to serve his country. Now Elvis had his share of troubles later on in his life, but let's let "he who is without sin cast the first stone". Old Elvis did his part, as asked.

Hard to imagine a story like that today, the only notable exception that comes to mind is that of Pat Tillman who gave up his NFL career to join the Army after the September 11 attacks, resulting ultimately in his death in Afghanistan.

The point to this, "to those who much is given, much is asked". Some people truly get that, some never will. You see, we have already been given the much, being allowed to live in a free country.
It is up to us now to take back control of who we elect and of how they represent us, and to preserve the very freedoms which we hold dear. The ones who will come after us, deserve that.

So once again, I encourage you to get involved, text, call, and write your elected officials and let your voice be heard.

And today say a special prayer for your Marines in the Helmund Province of Afghanistan as they take the fight to the terrorist who oppose freedom.

And yes, Mr. Vice President, it is a "BIG F***ing Deal"

They Got Me

OK, other than my good morning post, I tried to stay secretive about the fact that it was my birthday. It worked for the most part, until later this evening when I got fully busted by my wife and my Key West family. And I think it may have been my first real surprise party, complete with a cake mailed from home, baked by my true love Belinda. This strange box loaded with cake came in the middle of the biggest security exercise of the year. A cadre of my best friends here in Bone Island managed to get the box through security and into safe keeping in the lounge of the BOQ here.
Had a great evening with pizza and cake and my island family, only wish you could all be here.

I am truly a man blessed with great family and the best friends in the world, that includes all who sent birthday wishes on the web. To quote Lou Gehrig, " today I am the luckiest man in the world".

God Bless you all!

Old Chief Sends

Hope....This works out???????

Sometimes You Just Got To Think, This Is Not Going To Be Good.

So the bill is signed, the donkey party cheers, and the Republicans want to repeal, great thought, but why didn't they fight harder to stop from getting in this situation?

My friends are trying to talk to there Representatives, and low and behold getting no answers.

I am telling you "Clean The House-Level The Field". It is time to pick our next leaders, get involved I know in my heart there are still Patriots out there, maybe they are in your church, or your VFW, or maybe they are your hunting and fishing buddies. Maybe it is the man or woman at the local store where you shop. Seek them, find them draft them, and either lead or back them. It is not time to be timid.

"The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of his country, but he that stands it NOW deserves the love and thanks of man and woman" Thomas Paine

51 Years Later

I was born 51 years ago today, at Crawford W. Long hospital in Atlanta Georgia. That was before it was the Atl, people still had a pride about saying the word Atlanta, and did not pride themselves on their higher command of slang language.

It was a good day for me 51 years ago, although I am sure it was rough for my Mother, but I became a survivor that day, and it is a trend I have continued over the years. I also have no other plans, other than continuing the trend of being a survivor for many years to come.

I don't like a lot of whoop la about my birthday. Today I got up here on Bone Island, put my uniform on and went to work. It is a beautiful day here, and although I would much rather be fishing, I went to work because it is my duty to do so. I stoped along the way at Five Brothers Store and had cafe con leche and Cuban toast for breakfast, and on the ride to Boca Chica I listened to the Black Crows at a volume that cancelled out the ringing tinnitus in my left ear while enjoying the view of the sun rising across the ocean. God speaks to me from the great waters and I believe he places you where you need to be, such is the case this morning. Not a bad way to start the day.

So Happy birthday to me, and thank you Mom and Dad for making me, delivering me, raising me, and putting up with me for the last 51 years. Thank you, Belinda, Paul, and Mark for being my anchor and the loves of my life.

The Old Chief sends

Good Night

Thanks Dave, this say it all!

"I think it's time to put these people in the Sen. and Congress on the same playing field as the common man. These people have lined there pockets for years never paying a dime in Social Security and not only that but their spouses draw from the system also never putting a dime into the program. I think it is time to clean house, and as far as the U.S telling other country's to tear down there walls, Why is it that we are building our own walls? We have a nation that is divided in almost half and we are building walls to keep others from coming into this great country for there shot at freedom, just like our ancestors did to get us here in the first place. The biggest problem in this nation is they removed God from public schools, seperated church and state, took the 10 commandments off the walls in congress and allow abortion as a form of birth control, allow homosexuality and same sex marriages to take place because of the voice of a few liberal people who feel that they are mistreated or forgotten about. We need help People."

Taking Back Monday

I have struggled all day to find the words to express my feelings on yesterdays health care vote, and it's hard and complicated. I was in hopes that patriotism would win out over socialism, but I guess I knew in my heart of hearts that it wouldn't. However folks it is not the end of the world. It is a battle lost, but make no mistake the war is still to be won.

The grand photo op moment of Nancy walking arm in arm with John Lewis was supposed to draw parallels of heroes past, but friends those are not American heroes nor should they ever be thought of in that light. You want to think of heroes think about my brothers at Camp Leatherneck in Afghanistan, think of our service men and women providing aid in Haiti. They work for their health care, and with out complaint.

From the winter at Valley Forge when General Washington had lost ever battle and still crossed the Delaware to attack on Christmas day and won against the hardest fighting men the world knew at that time, those men were heroes. AOC John Finn manning a machine gun at Pearl Harbor in a hopeless situation, the 1st Infantry division landing on Omaha beach, our Marines on Iwo Jima, the Chosin reservoir, Hamburger Hill, Beirut, on the USS Cole and the people in the twin towers, these are heroes. Remember the call from Todd Beamer "Let's Roll", it's time to roll.

We as a people have faced hard times before and we will face these times of adversity as well.

People have set on the side lines too long, not is the call to action I am adding a note above, sent to me to day from my old Shipmate Dave that I just had to include on this blog, which summed a lot of this up.
We never need to spit on Congressmen are call names, what we must do is remain civil and e-mail our Congressmen until their system crashes, call them 24 hours a day and hold them accountable. Vote them out when the time comes to vote, and find that hero among us who we need representing us. Be active, use social networks for more than Farmville. Tell everyone how you feel. We can make a difference, we must, or we risk losing our country for our children and grandchildren.

About Don Blanding

If you have never read Don Blanding, or seen any of his art work, you should.
If you love the tropical places of Florida and Hawaii, you should check out Don Blanding.
If you have ever worn tropical print clothing or enjoyed fruity tropical drinks, you need to check out Don Blanding.

Don Blanding described himself as follows:
Artist by Nature
Actor by instinct
Poet by Accident
Vagabond by Choice.
And no, that awful road through Duval and Clay county Florida is not named for him.

He was a solder, along with all other categories he put himself into. He claimed to have invented the Hawaiian shirt that so many of us love, and created a wonderful history of our tropical places before they were filled with strip malls and chain restaurants.

Do yourself a favor google Don Blanding and check out this great American.

Don Blanding - All about the Vagabond Poet

Don Blanding the Vagabond Poet:

The Double Life

How very simple life would be
If only there were two of me
A Restless Me to drift and roam
A Quiet Me to stay at home.
A Searching One to find his fill
Of varied skies and newfound thrill
While sane and homely things are done
By the domestic Other One.
And that's just where the trouble lies;
There is a Restless Me that cries
For chancy risks and changing scene,
For arctic blue and tropic green,
For deserts with their mystic spell,
For lusty fun and raising Hell,
But shackled to that Restless Me
My Other Self rebelliously
Resists the frantic urge to move.
It seeks the old familiar groove
That habits make. It finds content
With hearth and home -- dear prisonment,
With candlelight and well-loved books
And treasured loot in dusty nooks,
With puttering and garden things
And dreaming while a cricket sings
And all the while the Restless One
Insists on more exciting fun,
It wants to go with every tide,
No matter where...just for the ride.
Like yowling cats the two selves brawl
Until I have no peace at all.
One eye turns to the forward track,
The other eye looks sadly back.
I'm getting wall-eyed from the strain,
(It's tough to have an idle brain)
But One says 'Stay' and One says 'Go'
And One says 'Yes,' and One says 'No,'
And One Self wants a home and wife
And One Self craves the drifter's life.
The Restless Fellow always wins
I wish my folks had made me twins"

My backyard

A Day That May Live In Infamy

Congressman Alcee Hastings (D) from Florinda says of the house health care debate "They ain't no rules here, we make up the rules as we go along". Really, make up the rules as we go along? This is what the donkey party thinks about the way a bill gets pasted. Congressman Hasting's quote ranks right there with Nancy Pelosi saying "we must first pass the bill to see what is in it."
ARE YOU BUYING THIS!
This bill will change our country ladies and gents, make no mistake about it.
We first need to pray about this and second we need to remember this one-sided push for reform. Remember when you vote in the next election.
On other fronts it is a beautiful day here on Bone Island. So everybody get off Facebook and get outside!

After returning from today's fishing trip, read the news of a 5.6 magnitude earthquake in Cuba this afternoon. This old world just keeps shaking here lately! We did not see or feel any tidal waves here in the local area, and the weather was warm and fishing was pretty good in Hemingway's old waters.

Sunday is the big day for the health care vote in congress, have to admit I am worried about the outcome. I guess we will see the true character of our elected officals.