Farewell Pete

We as the human race, lost a great friend this last week. Peter "Pete" Seeger transitioned out of this world at age 94.

Pete was a life long activist and singer, who made great contributions, by singing and telling tales. Pete and I would be worlds apart on political stance, but he gains all my respect on the way he addressed causes with a smile and a strumming banjo. Here was a man who sang with Woody Guthrie, and marched with protesters for civil rights. He protested the Viet Nam war, while being a life long VFW member, having served in the Army in the Pacific during World War Two. He loved the Hudson river and sailing on it's waters and fought for its water quality, and clean up. And he continued performing and singing into his 90s, despite having been black listed during the McCarthy era. Because of being black listed, he was never allowed to perform on television and radio during the peak of his career.

Pete taught us that even though we may disagree with on another, we could do so peacefully and with a smile. He shared his songs freely, and loved nothing better than to have people singing along. Pete could touch people's hearts in way very few can. Written in a circular pattern around the head skin of his trusty banjo are these words, "this machine surrounds hate and forces it to surrender". I think that sums up best what I may be trying to say about the man, and it is the lesson he left us all, to be kind and love each other.

Pete, you left the world a better place because you were here. You will be missed, and I will never forget your songs. I leave you with the words to one of Bob Dylan's songs, that Pete always loved to sing. "May God bless and keep you, may your wishes all come true. May you always do for others, and let others do for you. May you build a ladder to the stars, and climb up every rung, and may you stay Forever Young"

May you stay Forever Young.
Old Captain sends.


  

Andalusia

Andalusia farm sits nestled into the rolling hills of middle Georgia. A living testament to a diminutive young lady who, in the middle of the last century, waged a battle against a terminal illness, while creating some of the most memorable characters in southern literature.

Andalusia, named for an autonomous region of southern Spain. Why? No idea at this point, but a very beautiful name, none the less. This was the lair and writing desk of Flannery O'Conner. Her dark stories captured so very well the people and characters of the rural south in the 1940s and 1950s. Because of crumbling hips due to lupus, she was confined to the first floor of this farm house, and in a converted parlor room, to the left of the front door, she composed the majority of her writings. If you have never read Ms O'Conner, I highly encourage you to do so.

The farm is a genuine pearl, that truly deserves to be maintained and saved against the on rushing herds of strip mall building yuppies, moving away from Atlanta. Did I mention that there is good waterfowl hunting and fishing close by if you can gain access. So, if you ever find yourself around Milledgeville Georgia, Andalusia is just off Highway 441. Check it out.

Old Rambling Captain sends.

Chia Si, Just Stopping By

A Christmas gift of a Chia Si, now resides on the work bench in the man room. Now some say, Si and the intrepid Captain are a lot a like. Now I can't say for sure if that is the truth or not, but I guess one could be do worse than to be compared to Uncle Si.

We both made careers of the military, but differing branch's and differing wars. We both posses gray whiskers, we both have to wear glasses these days. We both pull our long hair back into pony tails, and almost always wear a hunting cap.

I was a Duck Commander fan long before the hoopla and fanfare of the current television show, we used to have to see the duck men on DVD or, catch them on the Outdoor channel to see them whacking and stacking ducks. I have a signed Phil Robertson duck call from many years ago, and I was a member of an organization called Duckaholics Anonymous founded by the Duck Commander himself.

It has been gray and cold here in the frozen north lands of Florida, at the shack between the swamp and the sea. Lots of gray days, not the best days for the old captain. The hunting is winding down a bit and the northeast winds have made fishing a challenge. But today as I re-positioned Chia Si to the man room, I had to smile. Just maybe I do have the strength and faith of my fellow duck man, and Chia Si and I but have a liberal amount of good red southern dirt in us, and maybe that is what enables us to endure the gray days. Say your prayers and think of our brave shipmates lost at sea yesterday, and also the ones still facing challenges ahead.

God Bless, Old Captain Sends