Archive for July, 2012

I have written before about strings. We see them yet we don’t. They intersect each of us to others, crisscrossing the land.

I am sitting at MSP. Minneapolis Airport in Minnesota. Another day, another state and another city for the op log book.

But my heart is heavy. In Georgia my first cousin lies in ICU. Fighting the odds and the numbers. The doctors tell us its only a matter of time. More hours than days I’m told.

If it happens as they say this will be four people close to me that have gone to Fiddlers Green in a single month. The ties that bind are heartwrenching, and my soul is weary of this.

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So Dana Loesch has written a pretty scathing article of Brad Lager over at Breibart.com.

I know this because I, in turn, received a scathing E-mail from Mr Lager about those damn “unfactual bloggers”.

I’m not surprised. She’s good at that sort of thing and I have a lot of respect for her. I’m also not surprised at getting E-mails from a campaign that I A) am not following B) didn’t ask to receive E-mails from and C) have not even the remotest interest in the candidate in question.

I’ve been rooting for Pete Kinder ever since he forked over his own money to fight the healthcare law. That takes balls in my book, and his stance on illegal immigration is well known in these parts.  Besides that, frankly I’d take Barney the Purple Dragon over Claire McCaskill.

I will openly admit to knowing very little about Brad Lager and frankly what I do know I don’t care for.  Don’t take anything I say at value. I am a “nonfactual blogger” according to Mr. Lager.

Go view his voting record yourself.

My pet peeve? In 2006 Lager voted against  restricting the use of Eminent Domain.

And then he voted to expand it’s use to take help the government take our properties away from us.

He voted to expand abortion laws.

He voted to keep criminals out of prison.

But you don’t have to take my word for it. It’s all right there in black and white.

Just remember I’m not factual, and neither are any other bloggers out here. For the record, while Kinder isn’t spotless his record is much more solidly in my decision process frankly.

Frankly I didn’t have a dog in this hunt, and haven’t written one whit about it until i saw that “unfactual blogger” bit. It really torques my jaws when I see these silly half-assed lawyers degrade folks who are at the fore front of grass root operations.

You can see our retort to Mr Lager and his fine staff after the jump.

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Im sitting on V00d3ws porch with a cigar and a glass of wine. Im typing this on my phone so please forgive the lack of punctuation and eloquence.

Was just struck by a thought as I listen to the soft patter of rain on the tin roof while the cigar smoke curls in the humid evening.

He’s watching us. Its his way of saying he sees we are gathering around him again like we used too. His way of saying he’s still among us.

The truth is, no matter how it occurred or what bad blood there may have resided amongst any of us, in the end we still loved him like a brother.

For that’s what we were you see. Brothers all of us.

The rain is falling a little harder as I type this.

And that’s okay.

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I’m home sick today.

Stomach and fever. Combined with a slow anger mingled with sadness. It makes for quite a miserable experience.

I have mentioned in the past, of my merry band of friends, the very small circle of us who survived the 90′s in Georgia. We were thicker than blood. Brothers from different mothers.

We fought. Often each other. We laughed. We cried. We mended broken hearts and saluted beginning and ending relationships.We drank, we sang. We played. We stared death in the face on mote than one occasion with our antics, and walked away feeling invincible.

In many ways we were a family unto ourselves. We were a peer group, but all in all I think a positive peer group. We never let others in our group drive drunk, we wanted us to be old and gray laughing at our antic together.

We were less responsible in other aspects, namely driving for which we took to the Georgia back roads like moonshiners from revenuers.

The epitome of wild eyed southern boys.

Now that circle grows smaller. This is my tribute, what little it is can not truly express the depth of our sorrow.

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Fire works.

Pretty are they not?

A spectacular show those whom have not experienced the horrors of war. A simulation of the explosions, the roar, and the crackle of fire in the night. But Stinger missiles do not blast in shades of red white and blue, and phosphorus is a white that is blindingly bright that almost burns the eyes while it lights the night sky.

What have we become?

What have we done?

“The strength of the Constitution lies entirely in the determination of each citizen to defend it. Only if every single citizen feels duty bound to do his share in this defense are the constitutional rights secure.”
― Albert Einstein

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If you are like me you love your cigars and your humidor. Lets face it your humidor is more than just a place to store your cigars, or at least it should be. Its meant to be an heirloom, something with meaning, and that should last literally years. It’s not just a reflection of your hobby but of yourself.

As such, everyone has different ways of making sure their humidor stays at optimum humidity to ensure their stogies last for years to come.

Thats where this little nugget of info comes in.

Quick Note: Should you choose to do this I am in no way responsible for anything that you break, destroy, cease to be able to use, main, kill, burn, damage or otherwise manage to make unusable in any fashion. You take your own risks by doing this, just as I did when I did mine.

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