Sunday, November 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
The Power Cycle.
My new book! A heartfelt thanks to my friend Dr. Fred Hatfield - aka "Dr. Squat" - for his favorable review and permission to quote him. In the world of strength training they don't come any 'bigger' than Fred. In the world of great guys they don't come any better.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Friday, September 3, 2010
Buy The Ticket, Take The Ride by Todd H. 08-03-10
“Remember Raoul!,”went up the scream
From Rio to Aspen, and points in between
On one hand was Loathing, on the other was Fear
Our constant companions, year after year
Behind all the mud and the blood and the beer
He lived what he said ‘till the day that he died
If you buy the ticket, you take the ride
A candle too bright, a heartache too keen
A warning shot aimed at the American Dream
A thorn in the side of the moral majority
The Gonzo, the cynic, the vocal minority
Like Leary he told us to question authority
Like him or not he took his stand
Whatever he was he was his own man
So once in awhile, when sleepless at night
Remember the one who fought the good fight
And wrote to make us laugh and to think
Who faced down convention and didn’t blink
Whose humanity not his madness drove to the brink
And know that he was both the best and the worst
But whatever we dreamed he’d been there first
From Rio to Aspen, and points in between
On one hand was Loathing, on the other was Fear
Our constant companions, year after year
Behind all the mud and the blood and the beer
He lived what he said ‘till the day that he died
If you buy the ticket, you take the ride
A candle too bright, a heartache too keen
A warning shot aimed at the American Dream
A thorn in the side of the moral majority
The Gonzo, the cynic, the vocal minority
Like Leary he told us to question authority
Like him or not he took his stand
Whatever he was he was his own man
So once in awhile, when sleepless at night
Remember the one who fought the good fight
And wrote to make us laugh and to think
Who faced down convention and didn’t blink
Whose humanity not his madness drove to the brink
And know that he was both the best and the worst
But whatever we dreamed he’d been there first
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Click on this title to see the Biggest Story Never Told.
The astute and well-informed will spot some faults and inaccuracies in this clip, but it remains the most well-produced and documented conspiracy expose' I have seen. Very interesting.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
In Betweener by Todd Hageman
Too old for Generation X, too young to be Boomers,
We were In-Betweeners, heir to ugly rumors.
Intellect a-plenty but still we missed the cut,
Because our minds were lost in space until they rusted shut.
No one to look up to, no heroes for our time.
The oval office lied to us, the gridiron didn't shine.
The Establishment was monstrous, and hippies a joke.
Eighteen to drink, but don't take a toke.
Thrift was a virtue, but money was dirty.
Too young to vote, can't trust over thirty.
When Dr. Hoffman discovered a light,
Leary, Minzer, and Alpert, said it was right,
Huxley, Cassaday, and Kesey, gave it away,
But did us no kindess, that mind-bending day.
When everything is melting, on what do you lean?
Merrily, merrily, Merry Pranksters, life ain't just a dream.
We'd never buy the status quo once we'd walked that edge.
We balanced there upon the brink but backed down from the ledge.
Still the sun rose, birds sang, fields waved,
But wasn't there more from cradle to grave?
We sought relevance in ports of call beyond the farthest field.
When those dreams battered us denial was our shield.
Through bar-rooms, backrooms, alleyways,
We searched for clarity while in a haze.
Surviving brawls, lockups, breakups, beatings,
Pipe-dreams, bottle flu, paranoia, lack of meaning,
Loneliness, pointlessness, fatigue, misdirection,
Disillusionment, foreboding, and flat-out rejection.
Adamantly maintaining we were tough, free, and strong,
And found fleeting beauty between heartache and wrong.
Frustrated, some of us donned uniforms, joined a band of brothers.
Trained long and hard to shed the blood of those who'd shed our mother's.
Tropic suns and salt air made our thick skins peel,
While we cursed and laughed and worked, and fought, and drank until we reeled.
We shouted, made a universal noise: "We still live and here we stand!"
"Bowed but still unbroken, though our blood is on the sand."
And then that far-off home, once boring and colorless,
Seemed so fine we ached for it, but that we'd not confess.
After laying down our rifles and again our lives we owned,
We stayed away because of pride, though once a week we phoned.
We ventured then to stride along the halls of higher learning.
We'd heard this was the path to life, and more important, earning,
Then were rudely disillusioned when the world did not come calling.
It cost a lot but mattered not, a life just begun was stalling.
A sheepskin is no cushion when from the heights you fall,
Or run confused from normal life and run into a wall.
The grey-haired heads of academe taught us facts and numbers,
But not how to have a life, or dreams outside our slumbers.
We were all a little anxious to find a special someone.
We didn't know the words to love songs, but sometimes we could hum one.
We settled in and settled down when it no longer mattered,
Dissolution? Never. But those quaint dreams were shattered.
The sounds of little feet and little children's laughter
Gave a hint of what we'd known and still were chasing after.
The pharmacist became the new distributor of sanity,
And on we went to toil away in apathy and vanity,
There was no joy in Muddville, but also no calamity.
A week per annum for the illusion that "now By God we're making it".
We buy the trinkets and send the cards to prove that we're not faking it.
Every now and then the chuchbell rings and off we have to go,
To mark another ending, be it friend or foe.
We dab our eyes, shake the hands, quote the proper homilies,
Offer up our deep concern while hoping its an anomaly,
Because we fear deep in our hearts a fate that we have earned,
When next those funeral bells sound out that it will be our turn.
A lawn so green, a car so clean,
A football cheer, a weekend beer,
A billion bright computer screens at night year after year,
Connect us, entertain us,
Inform us, isolate us,
Make us cry, make us shout,
Inflame our lust, incite our doubt.
Now we really DO turn on, tune in, drop out.
We carry phones everywhere so we can stay in touch
Because our words are vital and they matter oh so much
But instead of bringing us together they distance us from others.
I can't take the time to drop on by, I'll just call my brothers.
The lessons learned, the bridges burned,
The paths not taken, the hearts left achin',
The God we scorned, the virtue mourned,
The times we cried, the ways we died,
The battles fought, the grace we sought,
The burdens carried, the friends we've buried,
The walls we build, the dreams we killed,
The bliss we tasted, the fortunes wasted,
The home not found, the extra pound,
The truths not told, the growing old.
Our fathers tried to tell us but they didn't know our minds.
They didn't speak our language and they couldn't read our signs.
They had fought the good fight, came home to golden times.
So outward always seeking but never there to find
The happiness we'd heard about, hidden in our minds.
We searched for it in others, or in a drink, a song, a place.
We moaned and cried and tossed and turned, and blamed the human race.
Elusive, reclusive, simple, complex.
I can't pray right now Lord, but I'll send a text.
Dreamed about, fought for,
Lusted after, hated for.
Argued over, lamented,
Cried over, re-invented.
It's where you find it, thats what they said,
So damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead,
Not so much hell-bound, more like hell-bent,
And the harder we looked the faster we went.
So when we had exhausted our faith,
And wasted ourselves chasing a wraith,
Simple truth finally lit the dark night,
To win that long battle you give up the fight,
And that happiness comes not from pursuing pleasure,
But from right living, and giving full measure,
Of those simple things that once we treasured:
Your time, love, attention, fair play,
Friendship, kindness, kid stuff you say?
Learning, sharing, giving your best,
Concern, respect, offering rest.
These things we'd always scorned as too simple,
In the end answer that maddening riddle.
So let in the light, take your heart off the shelf,
Unlock the doors and shake hands with yourself.
We were In-Betweeners, heir to ugly rumors.
Intellect a-plenty but still we missed the cut,
Because our minds were lost in space until they rusted shut.
No one to look up to, no heroes for our time.
The oval office lied to us, the gridiron didn't shine.
The Establishment was monstrous, and hippies a joke.
Eighteen to drink, but don't take a toke.
Thrift was a virtue, but money was dirty.
Too young to vote, can't trust over thirty.
When Dr. Hoffman discovered a light,
Leary, Minzer, and Alpert, said it was right,
Huxley, Cassaday, and Kesey, gave it away,
But did us no kindess, that mind-bending day.
When everything is melting, on what do you lean?
Merrily, merrily, Merry Pranksters, life ain't just a dream.
We'd never buy the status quo once we'd walked that edge.
We balanced there upon the brink but backed down from the ledge.
Still the sun rose, birds sang, fields waved,
But wasn't there more from cradle to grave?
We sought relevance in ports of call beyond the farthest field.
When those dreams battered us denial was our shield.
Through bar-rooms, backrooms, alleyways,
We searched for clarity while in a haze.
Surviving brawls, lockups, breakups, beatings,
Pipe-dreams, bottle flu, paranoia, lack of meaning,
Loneliness, pointlessness, fatigue, misdirection,
Disillusionment, foreboding, and flat-out rejection.
Adamantly maintaining we were tough, free, and strong,
And found fleeting beauty between heartache and wrong.
Frustrated, some of us donned uniforms, joined a band of brothers.
Trained long and hard to shed the blood of those who'd shed our mother's.
Tropic suns and salt air made our thick skins peel,
While we cursed and laughed and worked, and fought, and drank until we reeled.
We shouted, made a universal noise: "We still live and here we stand!"
"Bowed but still unbroken, though our blood is on the sand."
And then that far-off home, once boring and colorless,
Seemed so fine we ached for it, but that we'd not confess.
After laying down our rifles and again our lives we owned,
We stayed away because of pride, though once a week we phoned.
We ventured then to stride along the halls of higher learning.
We'd heard this was the path to life, and more important, earning,
Then were rudely disillusioned when the world did not come calling.
It cost a lot but mattered not, a life just begun was stalling.
A sheepskin is no cushion when from the heights you fall,
Or run confused from normal life and run into a wall.
The grey-haired heads of academe taught us facts and numbers,
But not how to have a life, or dreams outside our slumbers.
We were all a little anxious to find a special someone.
We didn't know the words to love songs, but sometimes we could hum one.
We settled in and settled down when it no longer mattered,
Dissolution? Never. But those quaint dreams were shattered.
The sounds of little feet and little children's laughter
Gave a hint of what we'd known and still were chasing after.
The pharmacist became the new distributor of sanity,
And on we went to toil away in apathy and vanity,
There was no joy in Muddville, but also no calamity.
A week per annum for the illusion that "now By God we're making it".
We buy the trinkets and send the cards to prove that we're not faking it.
Every now and then the chuchbell rings and off we have to go,
To mark another ending, be it friend or foe.
We dab our eyes, shake the hands, quote the proper homilies,
Offer up our deep concern while hoping its an anomaly,
Because we fear deep in our hearts a fate that we have earned,
When next those funeral bells sound out that it will be our turn.
A lawn so green, a car so clean,
A football cheer, a weekend beer,
A billion bright computer screens at night year after year,
Connect us, entertain us,
Inform us, isolate us,
Make us cry, make us shout,
Inflame our lust, incite our doubt.
Now we really DO turn on, tune in, drop out.
We carry phones everywhere so we can stay in touch
Because our words are vital and they matter oh so much
But instead of bringing us together they distance us from others.
I can't take the time to drop on by, I'll just call my brothers.
The lessons learned, the bridges burned,
The paths not taken, the hearts left achin',
The God we scorned, the virtue mourned,
The times we cried, the ways we died,
The battles fought, the grace we sought,
The burdens carried, the friends we've buried,
The walls we build, the dreams we killed,
The bliss we tasted, the fortunes wasted,
The home not found, the extra pound,
The truths not told, the growing old.
Our fathers tried to tell us but they didn't know our minds.
They didn't speak our language and they couldn't read our signs.
They had fought the good fight, came home to golden times.
So outward always seeking but never there to find
The happiness we'd heard about, hidden in our minds.
We searched for it in others, or in a drink, a song, a place.
We moaned and cried and tossed and turned, and blamed the human race.
Elusive, reclusive, simple, complex.
I can't pray right now Lord, but I'll send a text.
Dreamed about, fought for,
Lusted after, hated for.
Argued over, lamented,
Cried over, re-invented.
It's where you find it, thats what they said,
So damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead,
Not so much hell-bound, more like hell-bent,
And the harder we looked the faster we went.
So when we had exhausted our faith,
And wasted ourselves chasing a wraith,
Simple truth finally lit the dark night,
To win that long battle you give up the fight,
And that happiness comes not from pursuing pleasure,
But from right living, and giving full measure,
Of those simple things that once we treasured:
Your time, love, attention, fair play,
Friendship, kindness, kid stuff you say?
Learning, sharing, giving your best,
Concern, respect, offering rest.
These things we'd always scorned as too simple,
In the end answer that maddening riddle.
So let in the light, take your heart off the shelf,
Unlock the doors and shake hands with yourself.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
A Brief and Untold Story.
From my friend Charlie Morton, a decorated Army man and Vietnam Veteran. A little-known story from the Pentagon - 09/11/2001
A chaplain told me what happened at a daycare center near the impact site. There were a lot of kids, including infants in cribs, in the daycare and the staff was overwhelmed with the magnitude and urgency of evacuating them. The fire was raging nearby and there was no time to bundle them all into carriers and strollers.
Just then a young Marine ran into the center and asked what they needed. After hearing what the center director was trying to do, he sprinted off and disappeared. The director thought,'we're on our own.'
2 minutes later he returned with 40 Marines. They piled children into cribs and wheeled them out of the center, and when those were all full they picked kids up and carried them, 2 and 3 at a time. Between the Marines and the staff they got all the children out of the Pentagon to a park 3/4 mi. away near the Potomac River. The Marines formed a circle with the cribs, which were quite sturdy and heavy, like the covered wagons in the Old West. Inside this circle of cribs they put the toddlers to keep them from wandering off. Outside this circle the Marines formed a perimeter and there they remained until the parents could be notified and come get their children.
The chaplain said, "I don't think this was on any of the news stories of the day. The thought of those men and what they did and how fast they reacted - then again, they're Marines. Would we expect less from them?"
Remember Reagan's great compliment: "Most of us wonder if our lives made any difference. Marines don't have that problem."
(My note: Men and women who's duty takes them into life-threatening situations come to regard life as very dear. Hence the seemingly incongruous instances of heavily armed soldiers stopping to aid a small child or feed a kitten. Marines are parents too. Semper Fi. -- Todd)
A chaplain told me what happened at a daycare center near the impact site. There were a lot of kids, including infants in cribs, in the daycare and the staff was overwhelmed with the magnitude and urgency of evacuating them. The fire was raging nearby and there was no time to bundle them all into carriers and strollers.
Just then a young Marine ran into the center and asked what they needed. After hearing what the center director was trying to do, he sprinted off and disappeared. The director thought,'we're on our own.'
2 minutes later he returned with 40 Marines. They piled children into cribs and wheeled them out of the center, and when those were all full they picked kids up and carried them, 2 and 3 at a time. Between the Marines and the staff they got all the children out of the Pentagon to a park 3/4 mi. away near the Potomac River. The Marines formed a circle with the cribs, which were quite sturdy and heavy, like the covered wagons in the Old West. Inside this circle of cribs they put the toddlers to keep them from wandering off. Outside this circle the Marines formed a perimeter and there they remained until the parents could be notified and come get their children.
The chaplain said, "I don't think this was on any of the news stories of the day. The thought of those men and what they did and how fast they reacted - then again, they're Marines. Would we expect less from them?"
Remember Reagan's great compliment: "Most of us wonder if our lives made any difference. Marines don't have that problem."
(My note: Men and women who's duty takes them into life-threatening situations come to regard life as very dear. Hence the seemingly incongruous instances of heavily armed soldiers stopping to aid a small child or feed a kitten. Marines are parents too. Semper Fi. -- Todd)
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Holes.
A father had a little boy who he loved very much, but who had a poor temper and sometimes acted rashly. One day he gave his son some nails and told him that when he lost his temper to go hammer a nail into their fence. The first day that fence received 22 nails. As the boy learned to control his anger the number of nails hammered into the fence daily decreased. He discovered that it was easier to control his temper than to drive the nails. The day came when he didn't pound any nails at all. His father then told him to pull one out each day he held his temper. Weeks passed and finally the boy announced that all the nails were gone. The father said, "Well done! But, now take a look at the holes. That fence will never be the same. If you put a knife in a man and draw it out, it doesn't matter if you apologize. The wound remains."
My note: At times I've been hurtful. Not thinking things through can cause this. Also fear. Sometimes it's occurred when I've tried to be funny at someone's expense. Other times it's happened when I actually wanted to help and was too direct. Please forgive me if I've ever left a hole.
My note: At times I've been hurtful. Not thinking things through can cause this. Also fear. Sometimes it's occurred when I've tried to be funny at someone's expense. Other times it's happened when I actually wanted to help and was too direct. Please forgive me if I've ever left a hole.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
This account is one of a kind - and I salute the good Colonel.
Thanks to my friend Lt.Col Rod MacBride, US Army, for this.
A Marine's toughest duty.
by LtCol George Goodson, USMC
In my 76th year the events of my life come to me as a series of vignettes, some significant, most not. War is the seminal event in the life of anyone who's endured it. I was in Korea and the Dominican Republic and was wounded there, but Vietnam was my war. Now I rarely think of those days in Cambodia,Laos,and the panhandle of North Vietnam where small teams of Americans and Montangards fought much larger elements of the North Vietnamese Army. Instead I recall the smell of Nuc Mam,the heat,dust,humidity. The blue exhaust of cycles clogging the streets. Elephants moving silently through tall grass. The hard eyes behind the smiles of the villagers. Standing on a mountain in Laos and hearing a tiger roar. A young girl squeezing my hand as a medic delivered her baby. The flowing Ao Dais of the young women biking down Tran Hung Dao. Then stateside, my duty as Casualty Notification Officer. Late '67 I returned after 18 months in Vietnam. I moved my family from Indianapolis to Norfolk, VA, enrolled my children in their 5th new school, and bought a 2nd car. A week later I put on my uniform and drove 10 miles to Little Creek, Virginia. I hesitated before entering my new office. Appearance is important to career Marines. I was no longer a poster Marine. I had returned from my 3rd tour in Vietnam only 30 days before. At 5'9", I weighed 128 lbs.-37 pounds below normal weight. My uniforms didn't fit, my skin was yellow from malaria medication and I had a twitch. I straightened my shoulders, walked into the office, looked at the nameplate on a non-com's desk and said, "Staff Sergeant Jolly, I'm Lt.Colonel Goodson. Here are my orders and my Qualification Jacket." He stood, looked me over carefully, took my orders, shook my hand. "How long were you there Colonel?" I replied "18 months this time." Jolly breathed, "you must be a slow learner Colonel." I smiled. He said, "I'll show you to your office and bring in the Sergeant Major." I said, "No, let's just go to his office." Jolly nodded but said, "Colonel, the Sergeant Major's been here 2 years. He's packed pretty tight. I'm worried about him." I nodded. Jolly escorted me into the Sergeant Major's office. "Sergeant Major, this is the new C.O." The Sergeant Major stood, extended his hand and said, "Good to see you again Colonel." I responded, "Hello Walt, how are you?" Jolly raised an eyebrow, walked out and closed the door. I sat down and we had the obligatory cup of coffee and talked about old friends. His stress was palpable. Finally I said, "Walt, what the hell's wrong?" He turned his chair, looked out the window and said, "George, you'll wish you were back in 'Nam before you leave here. I've been a Marine since '39. In the Pacific 36 months, Korea for 14 months, and Vietnam for 12 months. Now I bury kids and I can't take it." I said, "Walt, if you're sure I'll endorse your request for retirement and push it through HQ." He retired 12 weeks later-a good Marine for 28 years, but he'd seen too much death and suffering. He was used up. In the next 16 months, I conducted 28 death notifications and 28 military funerals, 30 notifications to the families of Marines that were severely wounded or missing in action. Thankfully, most of the details of those times have now faded from memory. 4 remain. My 3rd day there I was notified of the death of a 19 yr. old Marine. This came by phone from HQ Marine Corps. His family lived in No.Carolina, 60 miles away. I drove a Marine Corps staff car. Crossing the state line into No. Carolina I stopped at a small country store/service station/Post Office to ask directions. 3 people were in the store. A man and woman approached the small Post Office window. The man held a package. The owner addressed them by name, "Hello John. Good morning Mrs. Cooper." I was stunned. he was my casualty's next-of-kin. I hesitated, then stepped forward and said, "I beg your pardon. Are you Mr. and Mrs. John Cooper of (address.)?" I was in uniform. The father looked at me then bent at the waist and vomited. His wife looked horrified, first at him and then at me. Understanding came into her eyes and she collapsed in slow motion. I caught her before she hit the floor. The owner produced a bottle of whiskey and Mr. Cooper drank. I drove them home in my staff car. The store owner locked the store and followed in their truck. We stayed until the family began arriving. I drove the store owner back. He thanked me and said, "Mister, I wouldn't have your job for a million dollars." I vaguely remember the drive back to Norfolk . Violating 5 different regs I drove the staff car straight to my house. I sat with my family at dinner then went into the den, closed the door, and sat there all night alone. I'd made my first death notification. My men steered clear of me for several days. Weeks passed. More notifications, more funerals. I taught Marines from the local Reserve unit to conduct a military funeral. How to carry a casket, fire the volleys, fold the flag. When I presented the flag to the mother, wife, or father, I always said, "All Marines share in your grief." I'd been told to say, "On behalf of a grateful nation." but I didn't think the nation was grateful. Sometimes I couldn't speak. When that happened I gave them the flag and just touched a shoulder. They would look at me and nod. Once a mother said to me, "I'm so sorry you have this terrible job." My eyes filled with tears and I leaned over and kissed her. it was 6 weeks after my 1st notification before I had another, a young PFC. I drove to his mother's house. As always I was in uniform and driving a staff car. I parked in front of the house, took a deep breath and walked towards the house. Suddenly the door flew open and a woman rushed out. She looked at me and ran across the yard, screaming "NO! NO! NO! NO!" then she collapsed. I ran to her, grabbed her, and whispered stupid things to her. I picked her up and carried her into the house. 8 or 9 neighbors followed. 10 or 15 mins. later the father came in followed by ambulance personnel. I don't recall leaving. The funeral took place about 2 weeks later. We went through the drill. The mother never looked at me. The father looked at me once and shook his head sadly. Later, as I walked in the office the phone was ringing. Sergeant Jolly held it up and said, "You've got another one, Colonel." I nodded and walked into my office to take the call. Jolly came in with a special telephone directory that translates phone numbers into the person's address and place of employment. The father of this casualty was a longshoreman. He lived a mile away. I called the Longshoreman's Union Office and asked for the Business Manager. I identified myself and asked for the father's schedule. The manager asked, "is it his son?" I said nothing. After a moment he said softly, "Tom's at home today." I said, "Don't call him. I'll take care of that." The manager said, "Aye Aye Sir," and then, "Tom and I are Marines. WW2." I drove to the house and knocked. A woman in her forties answered. She was clueless. I asked, "Is Mr. Smith home?" She smiled pleasantly and responded, "Yes, but he's eating breakfast now. Can you come back later?" I said, "I'm sorry. It's important. I need to see him now." She nodded, stepped back into the beach house and said, "Tom, it's for you." A moment later, a ruddy man in his late forties, appeared at the door. He looked at me, turned absolutely pale, steadied himself, and said, "Jesus Christ man, he's only been there 3 weeks!" Months passed. More notifications and more funerals. One day while I was running, Sergeant Jolly stepped outside the building and gave a loud whistle and held an imaginary phone to his ear. Another call from HQ Marine Corps. I took notes, said,"Got it." and hung up. I had stopped saying "Thank You" long ago. Jolly said, "Where?" "Eastern Shore of Maryland. The father is a retired Navy Chief. The brother will accompany the body back from 'Nam." Jolly shook his head slowly, straightened, and then said, "This time of day it'll take hours to get there and back. I'll call the Naval Air Station for a helicopter and I'll have Captain Tolliver get one of his men to drive you to the Chief's home." He did and 40 minutes later I was knocking on the father's door. He opened the door, looked at me, then looked at the Marine standing at parade rest beside the car, and asked, "Which one of my boys is it, Colonel?" I stayed awhile, gave him all my info: my office and home numbers and told him to call me anytime. And he did that evening at 2300 hrs. "I've gone through my boy's papers and found his will. He wants a burial at sea. Can you make that happen?" I said, "Yes I can Chief. And I will." My wife, who'd been listening said, "Can you do that?" I told her, "I have no idea but I'll bust my ass trying." I called Lt. General Alpha Bowser, Commanding General,Fleet Marine Force Atlantic, at home about 2330 and explained the situation. "General, can you get me an appointment with the Admiral at Atlantic Fleet Headquarters?" General Bowser said," George, you be there tomorrow at 0900. He'll see you." I was and he did. He said coldly, "How can the Navy help the Marine Corps?" I told him. He turned to his Chief of Staff and said, "Which is the sharpest destroyer in port?" The Chief of Staff responded and the Admiral called the ship, "Captain you're doing a burial at sea. You'll report to Lieutenant Colonel Goodson until this mission is completed." He hung up, looked at me, and said, "Next time you need a ship call me. You don't have to sic Al Bowser on my ass." I said "Aye aye Sir!" and got the hell out of his office. I went to the ship and met with the Captain, Executive Officer, and the Senior Chief. Sergeant Jolly and I trained the ship's crew for 4 days. Then Jolly raised a question none of us had thought of. "These G.I. caskets are airtight. How do we keep it from floating?" All the high priced help including me sat there looking dumb. The Senior Chief stood and said, "C'mon Jolly. I know a bar where guys from World War II hang out." They returned a couple of hours later, slightly worse for wear, and said, "We cut four 2" holes in the outer shell of the casket on each side and put 300 lbs of lead in the foot end of the casket. No sweat." The day arrived. The ship and the sailors looked razor sharp. Lt.Gen.Bowser, the Admiral, a US Senator, and a Navy band were aboard. The casket was brought aboard and taken below for modification. We got underway to the 12-fathom depth. The sun was hot. The ocean flat. The casket was brought aft and placed on a catafalque. The Chaplain spoke, volleys were fired, the flag removed and folded. I gave it to the father. The band played "Eternal Father Strong to Save." The casket was raised slightly at the head and it slid into the sea. It plunged straight down about 6 feet. The incoming water collided with the air pockets in the outer shell and it stopped abruptly, rose straight out of the water 3 feet, then slowly slipped back into the sea. The bubbles rising from the sinking casket sparkled in the sun as it disappeared from sight forever. The next morning I called a friend, Lieutenant General Oscar Peatross, at H.Q. Marine Corps and said, "I can't take this anymore." I was transferred 2 weeks later. I was a good Marine but after 17 years I'd seen too much death and suffering. Now I was used up. Vacating the house, my family and I drove to the office in a two-car convoy. I said my goodbyes. Sergeant Jolly walked out with me. He waved at my family, looked at me with tears in his eyes, came to attention, saluted, and said "Well Done, Colonel. Well Done." I felt like I'd received the Medal of Honor. Semper Fi.
A Marine's toughest duty.
by LtCol George Goodson, USMC
In my 76th year the events of my life come to me as a series of vignettes, some significant, most not. War is the seminal event in the life of anyone who's endured it. I was in Korea and the Dominican Republic and was wounded there, but Vietnam was my war. Now I rarely think of those days in Cambodia,Laos,and the panhandle of North Vietnam where small teams of Americans and Montangards fought much larger elements of the North Vietnamese Army. Instead I recall the smell of Nuc Mam,the heat,dust,humidity. The blue exhaust of cycles clogging the streets. Elephants moving silently through tall grass. The hard eyes behind the smiles of the villagers. Standing on a mountain in Laos and hearing a tiger roar. A young girl squeezing my hand as a medic delivered her baby. The flowing Ao Dais of the young women biking down Tran Hung Dao. Then stateside, my duty as Casualty Notification Officer. Late '67 I returned after 18 months in Vietnam. I moved my family from Indianapolis to Norfolk, VA, enrolled my children in their 5th new school, and bought a 2nd car. A week later I put on my uniform and drove 10 miles to Little Creek, Virginia. I hesitated before entering my new office. Appearance is important to career Marines. I was no longer a poster Marine. I had returned from my 3rd tour in Vietnam only 30 days before. At 5'9", I weighed 128 lbs.-37 pounds below normal weight. My uniforms didn't fit, my skin was yellow from malaria medication and I had a twitch. I straightened my shoulders, walked into the office, looked at the nameplate on a non-com's desk and said, "Staff Sergeant Jolly, I'm Lt.Colonel Goodson. Here are my orders and my Qualification Jacket." He stood, looked me over carefully, took my orders, shook my hand. "How long were you there Colonel?" I replied "18 months this time." Jolly breathed, "you must be a slow learner Colonel." I smiled. He said, "I'll show you to your office and bring in the Sergeant Major." I said, "No, let's just go to his office." Jolly nodded but said, "Colonel, the Sergeant Major's been here 2 years. He's packed pretty tight. I'm worried about him." I nodded. Jolly escorted me into the Sergeant Major's office. "Sergeant Major, this is the new C.O." The Sergeant Major stood, extended his hand and said, "Good to see you again Colonel." I responded, "Hello Walt, how are you?" Jolly raised an eyebrow, walked out and closed the door. I sat down and we had the obligatory cup of coffee and talked about old friends. His stress was palpable. Finally I said, "Walt, what the hell's wrong?" He turned his chair, looked out the window and said, "George, you'll wish you were back in 'Nam before you leave here. I've been a Marine since '39. In the Pacific 36 months, Korea for 14 months, and Vietnam for 12 months. Now I bury kids and I can't take it." I said, "Walt, if you're sure I'll endorse your request for retirement and push it through HQ." He retired 12 weeks later-a good Marine for 28 years, but he'd seen too much death and suffering. He was used up. In the next 16 months, I conducted 28 death notifications and 28 military funerals, 30 notifications to the families of Marines that were severely wounded or missing in action. Thankfully, most of the details of those times have now faded from memory. 4 remain. My 3rd day there I was notified of the death of a 19 yr. old Marine. This came by phone from HQ Marine Corps. His family lived in No.Carolina, 60 miles away. I drove a Marine Corps staff car. Crossing the state line into No. Carolina I stopped at a small country store/service station/Post Office to ask directions. 3 people were in the store. A man and woman approached the small Post Office window. The man held a package. The owner addressed them by name, "Hello John. Good morning Mrs. Cooper." I was stunned. he was my casualty's next-of-kin. I hesitated, then stepped forward and said, "I beg your pardon. Are you Mr. and Mrs. John Cooper of (address.)?" I was in uniform. The father looked at me then bent at the waist and vomited. His wife looked horrified, first at him and then at me. Understanding came into her eyes and she collapsed in slow motion. I caught her before she hit the floor. The owner produced a bottle of whiskey and Mr. Cooper drank. I drove them home in my staff car. The store owner locked the store and followed in their truck. We stayed until the family began arriving. I drove the store owner back. He thanked me and said, "Mister, I wouldn't have your job for a million dollars." I vaguely remember the drive back to Norfolk . Violating 5 different regs I drove the staff car straight to my house. I sat with my family at dinner then went into the den, closed the door, and sat there all night alone. I'd made my first death notification. My men steered clear of me for several days. Weeks passed. More notifications, more funerals. I taught Marines from the local Reserve unit to conduct a military funeral. How to carry a casket, fire the volleys, fold the flag. When I presented the flag to the mother, wife, or father, I always said, "All Marines share in your grief." I'd been told to say, "On behalf of a grateful nation." but I didn't think the nation was grateful. Sometimes I couldn't speak. When that happened I gave them the flag and just touched a shoulder. They would look at me and nod. Once a mother said to me, "I'm so sorry you have this terrible job." My eyes filled with tears and I leaned over and kissed her. it was 6 weeks after my 1st notification before I had another, a young PFC. I drove to his mother's house. As always I was in uniform and driving a staff car. I parked in front of the house, took a deep breath and walked towards the house. Suddenly the door flew open and a woman rushed out. She looked at me and ran across the yard, screaming "NO! NO! NO! NO!" then she collapsed. I ran to her, grabbed her, and whispered stupid things to her. I picked her up and carried her into the house. 8 or 9 neighbors followed. 10 or 15 mins. later the father came in followed by ambulance personnel. I don't recall leaving. The funeral took place about 2 weeks later. We went through the drill. The mother never looked at me. The father looked at me once and shook his head sadly. Later, as I walked in the office the phone was ringing. Sergeant Jolly held it up and said, "You've got another one, Colonel." I nodded and walked into my office to take the call. Jolly came in with a special telephone directory that translates phone numbers into the person's address and place of employment. The father of this casualty was a longshoreman. He lived a mile away. I called the Longshoreman's Union Office and asked for the Business Manager. I identified myself and asked for the father's schedule. The manager asked, "is it his son?" I said nothing. After a moment he said softly, "Tom's at home today." I said, "Don't call him. I'll take care of that." The manager said, "Aye Aye Sir," and then, "Tom and I are Marines. WW2." I drove to the house and knocked. A woman in her forties answered. She was clueless. I asked, "Is Mr. Smith home?" She smiled pleasantly and responded, "Yes, but he's eating breakfast now. Can you come back later?" I said, "I'm sorry. It's important. I need to see him now." She nodded, stepped back into the beach house and said, "Tom, it's for you." A moment later, a ruddy man in his late forties, appeared at the door. He looked at me, turned absolutely pale, steadied himself, and said, "Jesus Christ man, he's only been there 3 weeks!" Months passed. More notifications and more funerals. One day while I was running, Sergeant Jolly stepped outside the building and gave a loud whistle and held an imaginary phone to his ear. Another call from HQ Marine Corps. I took notes, said,"Got it." and hung up. I had stopped saying "Thank You" long ago. Jolly said, "Where?" "Eastern Shore of Maryland. The father is a retired Navy Chief. The brother will accompany the body back from 'Nam." Jolly shook his head slowly, straightened, and then said, "This time of day it'll take hours to get there and back. I'll call the Naval Air Station for a helicopter and I'll have Captain Tolliver get one of his men to drive you to the Chief's home." He did and 40 minutes later I was knocking on the father's door. He opened the door, looked at me, then looked at the Marine standing at parade rest beside the car, and asked, "Which one of my boys is it, Colonel?" I stayed awhile, gave him all my info: my office and home numbers and told him to call me anytime. And he did that evening at 2300 hrs. "I've gone through my boy's papers and found his will. He wants a burial at sea. Can you make that happen?" I said, "Yes I can Chief. And I will." My wife, who'd been listening said, "Can you do that?" I told her, "I have no idea but I'll bust my ass trying." I called Lt. General Alpha Bowser, Commanding General,Fleet Marine Force Atlantic, at home about 2330 and explained the situation. "General, can you get me an appointment with the Admiral at Atlantic Fleet Headquarters?" General Bowser said," George, you be there tomorrow at 0900. He'll see you." I was and he did. He said coldly, "How can the Navy help the Marine Corps?" I told him. He turned to his Chief of Staff and said, "Which is the sharpest destroyer in port?" The Chief of Staff responded and the Admiral called the ship, "Captain you're doing a burial at sea. You'll report to Lieutenant Colonel Goodson until this mission is completed." He hung up, looked at me, and said, "Next time you need a ship call me. You don't have to sic Al Bowser on my ass." I said "Aye aye Sir!" and got the hell out of his office. I went to the ship and met with the Captain, Executive Officer, and the Senior Chief. Sergeant Jolly and I trained the ship's crew for 4 days. Then Jolly raised a question none of us had thought of. "These G.I. caskets are airtight. How do we keep it from floating?" All the high priced help including me sat there looking dumb. The Senior Chief stood and said, "C'mon Jolly. I know a bar where guys from World War II hang out." They returned a couple of hours later, slightly worse for wear, and said, "We cut four 2" holes in the outer shell of the casket on each side and put 300 lbs of lead in the foot end of the casket. No sweat." The day arrived. The ship and the sailors looked razor sharp. Lt.Gen.Bowser, the Admiral, a US Senator, and a Navy band were aboard. The casket was brought aboard and taken below for modification. We got underway to the 12-fathom depth. The sun was hot. The ocean flat. The casket was brought aft and placed on a catafalque. The Chaplain spoke, volleys were fired, the flag removed and folded. I gave it to the father. The band played "Eternal Father Strong to Save." The casket was raised slightly at the head and it slid into the sea. It plunged straight down about 6 feet. The incoming water collided with the air pockets in the outer shell and it stopped abruptly, rose straight out of the water 3 feet, then slowly slipped back into the sea. The bubbles rising from the sinking casket sparkled in the sun as it disappeared from sight forever. The next morning I called a friend, Lieutenant General Oscar Peatross, at H.Q. Marine Corps and said, "I can't take this anymore." I was transferred 2 weeks later. I was a good Marine but after 17 years I'd seen too much death and suffering. Now I was used up. Vacating the house, my family and I drove to the office in a two-car convoy. I said my goodbyes. Sergeant Jolly walked out with me. He waved at my family, looked at me with tears in his eyes, came to attention, saluted, and said "Well Done, Colonel. Well Done." I felt like I'd received the Medal of Honor. Semper Fi.
Friday, December 18, 2009
They Could've Been Bond . . . James Bond
Cary Grant. Before he grew old he'd have been PERFECT. Albert R. Broccoli asked him to play Bond first, and Grant said he'd do it but only for 1 movie. "I don't DO sequels Cubby." Mr. Broccoli needed someone to commit to at least 3.
Laurence Harvey. He was considered very seriously for the role when the franchise was originally being put together. With his cold, aloof demeanor, looks, and tall, lean physique he would've been a good Bond, if he could've made the transition to action movies, not a genre he was known for.
George Lazenby. Yes he WAS Bond -- in 1 movie. He should've stayed on for more. He did it well and actually made Bond look good in a kilt. An Aussie, he's the only non-Brit ever cast as Bond. He was a professional soldier and accomplished martial-artist. Interestingly, he was close friends with Bruce Lee and went on to replace him in the movies Mr. Lee had contracted to star in before he died.
Tom Selleck. Sure! Once upon a time. He's the perfect physical type and has the look. IF he could've cultivated a believable British accent, IF he would've shaved off the moustache, IF he would've left the 'aw shucks' attitude at home . . . . IF -IF-IF. . .
Burt Reynolds. Quit rolling your eyes! He was offered the role before anyone else when Sean Connery quit. He thought a non-British actor couldn't portray Bond and turned it down, a decision he says was the dumbest of his career. Other accounts say it was Cubby Broccoli who believed an American couldn't play Bond and nixed casting Burt. I doubt this as he asked other Americans at other times. At any rate Burt says that sometimes he still wakes up at night thinking,"Bond! I could've been James Bond!"
James Brolin. The thought of Mr.Streisand as Bond doesn't appeal to ME, but he was a strong contender before they signed Roger Moore, even though he was 43 at the time.
Patrick McGoohan. Again, not as far as I'm concerned, though I have great respect for his acting and directing ability. He was seriously considered. My bias against him as Bond is only aesthetic. He certainly proved himself as more than capable as an action/secret agent star in "Danger Man" (aka "Secret Agent") and the bizarre and wonderful "The Prisoner".
Mel Gibson. Mr. Gibson says he turned down the role "several times" in the '80s. He is a very capable actor and action star, but I couldn't see him as Bond - until I watched "Payback" and saw the hardness they must've detected. Could've worked. At least as well as Pierce Brosnan, maybe better.
Adam West. Considered as Connery's replacement. Strong resemblance to Roger Moore. He'd have had to overcome a HUGE image problem as he was indelibly stamped in the public's mind as 'Batman'. Couldn't have been worse than Roger Moore dressing as a circus clown in 'Octopussy'. (Bond's all-time low).
Billy Zane. Style, panache, attitude, menace, more acting ability than required, and could easily provide the accent. Even so, might not be 'rugged' enough to be Bond.
Clive Owen. Could've redefined the role, much as Sean Connery originally defined it. Has the look, the height, powerful build, can be gritty and suave at the same time. Strong resemblance to George Lazenby. And they picked Daniel Craig over him??
Christian Bale. Dylan Hageman thought of this while watching Batman Begins. The more I considered it the more I liked it. He's a Brit, well, Welsh to be precise (his flat, Mid-West non-accent is an affectation). He's the proper physical type, although a bit on the slim side, dark-haired, intense, can be menacing (watch American Psycho), apparently loads of sex appeal. Christian lacks what to be Bond? BESIDES a haircut.
Denzel Washington. IF a black James Bond were cast he'd be the natural choice. Now that Sidney Portier is old.
Antonio Banderas. IF a Latino James Bond were cast he'd be the natural choice, now that Fernando Lamas is dead. Actually, aside from his accent, he could be the CURRENT Bond. Antonio is # 2 on a list of actors I didn't want to like but do. #1 is Brad Pitt.
John Gavin. You may remember him for a role in 'Psycho', as Ceasar in 'Spartacus', or as Julie Andrews' beau in "Thoroughly Modern Millie". In 1971 he was UNDER CONTRACT to play Bond in 'Diamonds Are Forever'. So for a time he actually WAS Bond. When Sean Connery was lured back, he allowed the studio to buy him out of his contract (for his full salary). If anyone looked as much like Bond as Sean Connery it's Mr. Gavin. Study this photo and imagine him in Armani, holding a Walther PPK. He went on to great success in other venues: president of the Screen Actors Guild, special adviser to the Organization of American States and in keeping with the image of Bond was said to have done secret intelligence work for them. Most importantly, he was US Ambassador to Mexico for several years.
Others said to have been considered are Sam Neill, and Hugo Weaving, and Sean Bean. (The later gets my first vote for a blonde Bond). All three of these gentlemen are far better actors than required for the wonderful but one-dimensional role of James Bond. While Sam Neill was in all of the Jurassic Park movies, Hugo Weaving in particular seems to have fared quite well after being passed up for the role. He was the evil Agent Smith in all three "Matrix" movies (say what you will, they were all huge $$$ makers) and Elrond in the Lord of the Rings movies. He was also the man behind the Guy Fawkes mask in "V".
More on Bond: 'Casino Royale' is the most plot-driven, taut, well-acted, and human Bond movie yet, but a homely, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Bond doesn't work. Daniel Craig is a talented and competent actor (watch 'Layer Cake') but Ian Fleming described Bond as being dark-haired and 'severely handsome' and Mr.Craig is neither. Like Patrick McGoohan above my bias against him as Bond is only aesthetic. He IS very manly, rugged-looking, and in great shape for "Casino", but he simply just doesn't look like Bond.
The literary description of Bond's facial features most closely describes not Sean Connery, but Timothy Dalton. Ian Fleming's most succinct description of Bond is that "he looked something like a young Hoagy Carmichael."
Roger Moore, looks the least like Bond, but apparently 'Cubby' Broccoli thought the opposite as he asked Roger to be Bond BEFORE asking Sean Connery. Mr. Moore was contracted to 'The Saint' and could not accept. He is my least favorite Bond, though I liked him as Simon Templar and especially in 'The Persuaders',a good but nearly forgotten TV show in which he co-starred with Tony Curtis,(http://bondambitions.com/2010/02/the-persuaders/). Mr. Moore was Bond in 7 movies, tied with Mr. Connery's total if we discount 'Never Say Never Again', the 'unofficial' Bond movie filmed by a studio other than EON and a simple remake of "Thunderball". It was so named because it's what Connery said when done shooting "Diamonds Are Forever".
Who was in all the 'official' Bond movies until his death? Desmond Lewellyn, who portrayed 'Q' (Major Boothroyd). It was fitting, respectful and appropriate how the 'passing of the torch' to his successor 'R' - played by John Cleese - was handled. British cinema lost one of its finest stars when Mr. Lewellyn died shortly after filming this episode.
Ian Fleming created another famous story, the phenomenally popular children's tale "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang". The movie version had several other James Bond tie-ins: Director: Albert R. Broccoli. Desmond Lewellyn was in it, as the kindly owner of the junkyard where the children discovered the magical car. Gert Frobe (Goldfinger)played the villian Baron Bomburst. Anna Quayle, the Baroness Bomburst, was in the 1967 spoof "Casino Royale". Albert Dore', who played Spy Number 1, was also in the 1967 "Casino Royale".
Mr. Fleming also wrote a non-fiction book entitled "Thrilling Cities" which is an interesting and worthwhile read, though now very dated. I've finally procured a copy of another non-fiction book by him entitled "The Diamond Smugglers." Like the Bond stories, Mr. Fleming tells a story of people doing extraordinary things in extraordinary circumstances as if they were everyday occurances. I believe this is a wonderful example of the British "stiff upper lip". However, in the case of "The Diamond Smugglers" the story happens to be true
When Cary Grant passed on the role of Bond, James Mason was asked. Mason said he'd do 2, but not the 3 Bond films they were trying to cast, and so was not considered further. While Mr. Mason was a competent actor, he definitely was NOT Bond.
As of this writing (04/08) all the actors to portray James Bond in an 'official' movie are still living. Roger Moore is 80. YES, he is OLDER than Sean Connery, who is 77. George Lazenby is third eldest at 68. The TWO 'unofficial' exceptions to this are: David Niven, who died in 1983 at the age of 73, and Barry Nelson, who died in 2007 at the age of 89. I can hear it now: "David Niven?! And who is Barry Nelson?!" Let me explain:
Casino Royale was the 1st Bond story in the written series but the MOVIE series began in 1962 with 'Dr. No' - the 2nd Bond story. Reason: Film rights to 'Casino Royale' were owned by Columbia Pictures who released thier version in 1967. EON Studios released 'From Russia With Love' in 1963, 'Goldfinger' in 1964, and 'You only Live Twice' 1967, 2 months after Columbia's "Casino Royale". In Columbia's version David Niven played an older James Bond called out of retirement to battle evil. Mr. Niven shared the screen with a stellar cast: Orson Welles, John Huston, William Holden, Deborah Kerr, Charles Boyer, George Raft, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Ursula Andress (THE Bond girl from "Dr. No"), Peter Sellers, Woody Allen, Anna Quayle, and David Prowse (the huge man under Darth Vader's black costume). Peter O'Toole, Jacqueline Bisset, and Anjelica Huston also appeared in UNCREDITED roles! 2 of the writers were Joseph Heller ("Catch 22") and Billy Wilder (12 Academy Award nominations for screenwriting)! Columbia asked Eon Studios about making it as a collaborative effort, but Cubby Broccoli and Harry Saltzman refused. Columbia decided then to make it as a spoof of Bond and spy movies in general. Though far over-budget it was considered a financial success in its day, but even so was quickly and deservedly forgotten. This only goes to show that brilliant writers and a brilliant cast cannot overcome a screwed-up concept. I've seen it. Bond fans can take a pass with no demerits.
NOW, even further back in time, to 1954 when the story of Bond beyond the printed page REALLY begins. CBS Television had a show called 'Climax Theater' and an episode of this was 'Casino Royale', featuring Barry Nelson as AMERICAN CIA agent James Bond. In a wierd re-writing of Mr. Fleming's storyline, he was assisted by a BRITISH agent named Leiter, although it was Clarence Leiter not Felix. Peter Lorre' was the evil Le Chiffre', and is therefore the first actor to play a Bond Villian. Linda Christian, as Valerie Mathis, became the first actress to be a Bond Girl.
Of course it was a black and white production, and as it was broadcast live it was essentially a play with only about 3 scenes, one of which is the famous card game. Since a card game is not very interesting to watch, this version of 'Casino Royale' isn't terribly exciting, but in all fairness, the players did a creditable job in a very limited venue and in what was a brand-new media. It WAS amusing to see a stocky, moon-faced character in a tux introduce himself as "Jimmy Bond", though it made me cringe also.
In 2000 EON Studios finally secured rights to 'Casino Royale'. A few years later Pierce Brosnans' reign as Bond ended and the Craig-as-Bond 'Casino Royale' was produced, resulting in a gritty, interesting, and action-packed film, but just as notable for its total disregard of continuity as anything else.
Now, armed with this knowledge, imagine this scenario at your next party or night out with the gang:
You begin a conversation about James Bond. Easy enough to do with anyone interested in movies, cars, gadgets, guns, or girls. Ask who their favorite Bond actor is. The majority of the time the answer will be "Sean Connery".
This sets you up perfectly! Proceed with --
"Okay everybody, who was the SECOND man to play James Bond?" (Don't say "-in a movie" since the Barry Nelson episode was on TV.)
The typical answer: "Roger Moore."
The wrong but sharper-than-average answer: "George Lazenby", but if no one names him don't bring him up.
The REAL answer: "Sean Connery."
Once you relate the facts of Barry Nelson and "Casino Royale" you then follow up with:
"Okay then, who was the THIRD person to play James Bond?"
The typical answer: "All right, THAT was Roger Moore!"
The still wrong but still sharper-than-average answer: "George Lazenby."
The real answer: "David Niven."
So you relate the facts of the SECOND filming of 'Casino Royale'. Then, if by that time no one has yet demonstrated any knowledge of George Lazenby, you ask:
"Then who was the fourth?"
At this point they should be INSISTING: "Roger Moore!"
The real answer (presented smugly) : "George Lazenby."
YOU CAN WIN BETS WITH THIS STUFF GUYS. WRITE IT DOWN!
More interesting trivia:
What film was Sean Connery in before 'Dr. No'? Guesses as to the studio and movie? This can be one of those "D'oh!" head-slappers for those of us middle-aged.
Answer: It was a DISNEY movie -- 'Darby O'Gill and the Little People'.
It's said that Albert Broccoli just happened to look out a window and saw Sean Connery walking by "like a panther" and decided on the spot to cast him as Bond. Alternately and more believably is that Ian Fleming's wife saw 'Darby O'Gill' and told her husband that Sean Connery should be James Bond. Mr. Fleming was very involved with the early Bond movies and could well have convinced Broccoli and company of the same. Thank goodness, however it happened.
Ian Fleming actually appears briefly in a scene in 'From Russia With Love'. Look for a man with a cane in a crowd outside the train. Sean Connery's son, Jason Connery got his start as an actor by portraying Ian Fleming in 'The Secret Life Of Ian Fleming', while Sean's brother Neil, was in an Italian movie called 'His Younger Brother' playing Bond's younger brother! Jason's movie was a decent one. Neil's was not - except for the score by Ennio Morricone.
Sean Connery represented Scotland in the 1950 Mr. Universe competition in London. He has downplayed this and laughingly said that he came in "dead last". He did not. He came in a respectable third.
Sean's very first acting gig was as a song and dance man! He was one of the sailors in a stage production of "South Pacific". The story is that he landed the part because it called for the sailor to be bare-chested and he looked better with no shirt on than any of the other fellows who auditioned.
Laurence Harvey. He was considered very seriously for the role when the franchise was originally being put together. With his cold, aloof demeanor, looks, and tall, lean physique he would've been a good Bond, if he could've made the transition to action movies, not a genre he was known for.
George Lazenby. Yes he WAS Bond -- in 1 movie. He should've stayed on for more. He did it well and actually made Bond look good in a kilt. An Aussie, he's the only non-Brit ever cast as Bond. He was a professional soldier and accomplished martial-artist. Interestingly, he was close friends with Bruce Lee and went on to replace him in the movies Mr. Lee had contracted to star in before he died.
Tom Selleck. Sure! Once upon a time. He's the perfect physical type and has the look. IF he could've cultivated a believable British accent, IF he would've shaved off the moustache, IF he would've left the 'aw shucks' attitude at home . . . . IF -IF-IF. . .
Burt Reynolds. Quit rolling your eyes! He was offered the role before anyone else when Sean Connery quit. He thought a non-British actor couldn't portray Bond and turned it down, a decision he says was the dumbest of his career. Other accounts say it was Cubby Broccoli who believed an American couldn't play Bond and nixed casting Burt. I doubt this as he asked other Americans at other times. At any rate Burt says that sometimes he still wakes up at night thinking,"Bond! I could've been James Bond!"
James Brolin. The thought of Mr.Streisand as Bond doesn't appeal to ME, but he was a strong contender before they signed Roger Moore, even though he was 43 at the time.
Patrick McGoohan. Again, not as far as I'm concerned, though I have great respect for his acting and directing ability. He was seriously considered. My bias against him as Bond is only aesthetic. He certainly proved himself as more than capable as an action/secret agent star in "Danger Man" (aka "Secret Agent") and the bizarre and wonderful "The Prisoner".
Mel Gibson. Mr. Gibson says he turned down the role "several times" in the '80s. He is a very capable actor and action star, but I couldn't see him as Bond - until I watched "Payback" and saw the hardness they must've detected. Could've worked. At least as well as Pierce Brosnan, maybe better.
Adam West. Considered as Connery's replacement. Strong resemblance to Roger Moore. He'd have had to overcome a HUGE image problem as he was indelibly stamped in the public's mind as 'Batman'. Couldn't have been worse than Roger Moore dressing as a circus clown in 'Octopussy'. (Bond's all-time low).
Billy Zane. Style, panache, attitude, menace, more acting ability than required, and could easily provide the accent. Even so, might not be 'rugged' enough to be Bond.
Clive Owen. Could've redefined the role, much as Sean Connery originally defined it. Has the look, the height, powerful build, can be gritty and suave at the same time. Strong resemblance to George Lazenby. And they picked Daniel Craig over him??
Christian Bale. Dylan Hageman thought of this while watching Batman Begins. The more I considered it the more I liked it. He's a Brit, well, Welsh to be precise (his flat, Mid-West non-accent is an affectation). He's the proper physical type, although a bit on the slim side, dark-haired, intense, can be menacing (watch American Psycho), apparently loads of sex appeal. Christian lacks what to be Bond? BESIDES a haircut.
Denzel Washington. IF a black James Bond were cast he'd be the natural choice. Now that Sidney Portier is old.
Antonio Banderas. IF a Latino James Bond were cast he'd be the natural choice, now that Fernando Lamas is dead. Actually, aside from his accent, he could be the CURRENT Bond. Antonio is # 2 on a list of actors I didn't want to like but do. #1 is Brad Pitt.
John Gavin. You may remember him for a role in 'Psycho', as Ceasar in 'Spartacus', or as Julie Andrews' beau in "Thoroughly Modern Millie". In 1971 he was UNDER CONTRACT to play Bond in 'Diamonds Are Forever'. So for a time he actually WAS Bond. When Sean Connery was lured back, he allowed the studio to buy him out of his contract (for his full salary). If anyone looked as much like Bond as Sean Connery it's Mr. Gavin. Study this photo and imagine him in Armani, holding a Walther PPK. He went on to great success in other venues: president of the Screen Actors Guild, special adviser to the Organization of American States and in keeping with the image of Bond was said to have done secret intelligence work for them. Most importantly, he was US Ambassador to Mexico for several years.
Others said to have been considered are Sam Neill, and Hugo Weaving, and Sean Bean. (The later gets my first vote for a blonde Bond). All three of these gentlemen are far better actors than required for the wonderful but one-dimensional role of James Bond. While Sam Neill was in all of the Jurassic Park movies, Hugo Weaving in particular seems to have fared quite well after being passed up for the role. He was the evil Agent Smith in all three "Matrix" movies (say what you will, they were all huge $$$ makers) and Elrond in the Lord of the Rings movies. He was also the man behind the Guy Fawkes mask in "V".
More on Bond: 'Casino Royale' is the most plot-driven, taut, well-acted, and human Bond movie yet, but a homely, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Bond doesn't work. Daniel Craig is a talented and competent actor (watch 'Layer Cake') but Ian Fleming described Bond as being dark-haired and 'severely handsome' and Mr.Craig is neither. Like Patrick McGoohan above my bias against him as Bond is only aesthetic. He IS very manly, rugged-looking, and in great shape for "Casino", but he simply just doesn't look like Bond.
The literary description of Bond's facial features most closely describes not Sean Connery, but Timothy Dalton. Ian Fleming's most succinct description of Bond is that "he looked something like a young Hoagy Carmichael."
Roger Moore, looks the least like Bond, but apparently 'Cubby' Broccoli thought the opposite as he asked Roger to be Bond BEFORE asking Sean Connery. Mr. Moore was contracted to 'The Saint' and could not accept. He is my least favorite Bond, though I liked him as Simon Templar and especially in 'The Persuaders',a good but nearly forgotten TV show in which he co-starred with Tony Curtis,(http://bondambitions.com/2010/02/the-persuaders/). Mr. Moore was Bond in 7 movies, tied with Mr. Connery's total if we discount 'Never Say Never Again', the 'unofficial' Bond movie filmed by a studio other than EON and a simple remake of "Thunderball". It was so named because it's what Connery said when done shooting "Diamonds Are Forever".
Who was in all the 'official' Bond movies until his death? Desmond Lewellyn, who portrayed 'Q' (Major Boothroyd). It was fitting, respectful and appropriate how the 'passing of the torch' to his successor 'R' - played by John Cleese - was handled. British cinema lost one of its finest stars when Mr. Lewellyn died shortly after filming this episode.
Ian Fleming created another famous story, the phenomenally popular children's tale "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang". The movie version had several other James Bond tie-ins: Director: Albert R. Broccoli. Desmond Lewellyn was in it, as the kindly owner of the junkyard where the children discovered the magical car. Gert Frobe (Goldfinger)played the villian Baron Bomburst. Anna Quayle, the Baroness Bomburst, was in the 1967 spoof "Casino Royale". Albert Dore', who played Spy Number 1, was also in the 1967 "Casino Royale".
Mr. Fleming also wrote a non-fiction book entitled "Thrilling Cities" which is an interesting and worthwhile read, though now very dated. I've finally procured a copy of another non-fiction book by him entitled "The Diamond Smugglers." Like the Bond stories, Mr. Fleming tells a story of people doing extraordinary things in extraordinary circumstances as if they were everyday occurances. I believe this is a wonderful example of the British "stiff upper lip". However, in the case of "The Diamond Smugglers" the story happens to be true
When Cary Grant passed on the role of Bond, James Mason was asked. Mason said he'd do 2, but not the 3 Bond films they were trying to cast, and so was not considered further. While Mr. Mason was a competent actor, he definitely was NOT Bond.
As of this writing (04/08) all the actors to portray James Bond in an 'official' movie are still living. Roger Moore is 80. YES, he is OLDER than Sean Connery, who is 77. George Lazenby is third eldest at 68. The TWO 'unofficial' exceptions to this are: David Niven, who died in 1983 at the age of 73, and Barry Nelson, who died in 2007 at the age of 89. I can hear it now: "David Niven?! And who is Barry Nelson?!" Let me explain:
Casino Royale was the 1st Bond story in the written series but the MOVIE series began in 1962 with 'Dr. No' - the 2nd Bond story. Reason: Film rights to 'Casino Royale' were owned by Columbia Pictures who released thier version in 1967. EON Studios released 'From Russia With Love' in 1963, 'Goldfinger' in 1964, and 'You only Live Twice' 1967, 2 months after Columbia's "Casino Royale". In Columbia's version David Niven played an older James Bond called out of retirement to battle evil. Mr. Niven shared the screen with a stellar cast: Orson Welles, John Huston, William Holden, Deborah Kerr, Charles Boyer, George Raft, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Ursula Andress (THE Bond girl from "Dr. No"), Peter Sellers, Woody Allen, Anna Quayle, and David Prowse (the huge man under Darth Vader's black costume). Peter O'Toole, Jacqueline Bisset, and Anjelica Huston also appeared in UNCREDITED roles! 2 of the writers were Joseph Heller ("Catch 22") and Billy Wilder (12 Academy Award nominations for screenwriting)! Columbia asked Eon Studios about making it as a collaborative effort, but Cubby Broccoli and Harry Saltzman refused. Columbia decided then to make it as a spoof of Bond and spy movies in general. Though far over-budget it was considered a financial success in its day, but even so was quickly and deservedly forgotten. This only goes to show that brilliant writers and a brilliant cast cannot overcome a screwed-up concept. I've seen it. Bond fans can take a pass with no demerits.
NOW, even further back in time, to 1954 when the story of Bond beyond the printed page REALLY begins. CBS Television had a show called 'Climax Theater' and an episode of this was 'Casino Royale', featuring Barry Nelson as AMERICAN CIA agent James Bond. In a wierd re-writing of Mr. Fleming's storyline, he was assisted by a BRITISH agent named Leiter, although it was Clarence Leiter not Felix. Peter Lorre' was the evil Le Chiffre', and is therefore the first actor to play a Bond Villian. Linda Christian, as Valerie Mathis, became the first actress to be a Bond Girl.
Of course it was a black and white production, and as it was broadcast live it was essentially a play with only about 3 scenes, one of which is the famous card game. Since a card game is not very interesting to watch, this version of 'Casino Royale' isn't terribly exciting, but in all fairness, the players did a creditable job in a very limited venue and in what was a brand-new media. It WAS amusing to see a stocky, moon-faced character in a tux introduce himself as "Jimmy Bond", though it made me cringe also.
In 2000 EON Studios finally secured rights to 'Casino Royale'. A few years later Pierce Brosnans' reign as Bond ended and the Craig-as-Bond 'Casino Royale' was produced, resulting in a gritty, interesting, and action-packed film, but just as notable for its total disregard of continuity as anything else.
Now, armed with this knowledge, imagine this scenario at your next party or night out with the gang:
You begin a conversation about James Bond. Easy enough to do with anyone interested in movies, cars, gadgets, guns, or girls. Ask who their favorite Bond actor is. The majority of the time the answer will be "Sean Connery".
This sets you up perfectly! Proceed with --
"Okay everybody, who was the SECOND man to play James Bond?" (Don't say "-in a movie" since the Barry Nelson episode was on TV.)
The typical answer: "Roger Moore."
The wrong but sharper-than-average answer: "George Lazenby", but if no one names him don't bring him up.
The REAL answer: "Sean Connery."
Once you relate the facts of Barry Nelson and "Casino Royale" you then follow up with:
"Okay then, who was the THIRD person to play James Bond?"
The typical answer: "All right, THAT was Roger Moore!"
The still wrong but still sharper-than-average answer: "George Lazenby."
The real answer: "David Niven."
So you relate the facts of the SECOND filming of 'Casino Royale'. Then, if by that time no one has yet demonstrated any knowledge of George Lazenby, you ask:
"Then who was the fourth?"
At this point they should be INSISTING: "Roger Moore!"
The real answer (presented smugly) : "George Lazenby."
YOU CAN WIN BETS WITH THIS STUFF GUYS. WRITE IT DOWN!
More interesting trivia:
What film was Sean Connery in before 'Dr. No'? Guesses as to the studio and movie? This can be one of those "D'oh!" head-slappers for those of us middle-aged.
Answer: It was a DISNEY movie -- 'Darby O'Gill and the Little People'.
It's said that Albert Broccoli just happened to look out a window and saw Sean Connery walking by "like a panther" and decided on the spot to cast him as Bond. Alternately and more believably is that Ian Fleming's wife saw 'Darby O'Gill' and told her husband that Sean Connery should be James Bond. Mr. Fleming was very involved with the early Bond movies and could well have convinced Broccoli and company of the same. Thank goodness, however it happened.
Ian Fleming actually appears briefly in a scene in 'From Russia With Love'. Look for a man with a cane in a crowd outside the train. Sean Connery's son, Jason Connery got his start as an actor by portraying Ian Fleming in 'The Secret Life Of Ian Fleming', while Sean's brother Neil, was in an Italian movie called 'His Younger Brother' playing Bond's younger brother! Jason's movie was a decent one. Neil's was not - except for the score by Ennio Morricone.
Sean Connery represented Scotland in the 1950 Mr. Universe competition in London. He has downplayed this and laughingly said that he came in "dead last". He did not. He came in a respectable third.
Sean's very first acting gig was as a song and dance man! He was one of the sailors in a stage production of "South Pacific". The story is that he landed the part because it called for the sailor to be bare-chested and he looked better with no shirt on than any of the other fellows who auditioned.
"QUANTUM OF SOLACE"
Dylan Hageman and I just returned from seeing "Quantum of Solace", an exciting, action-packed spectacle. We are always entertained by Bond, but is this 22nd installment of the series a "GOOD" movie? It is enjoyable, but after contemplation my answer is a qualified no. NO Bond flick will ever be remembered as a 'classic' movie like "Casablanca" or "Lawrence of Arabia", but even in the context of action/adventure movies it is unsatisfying. I am quite able to suspend my disbelief in order to enjoy a movie, but the story must be consistent within itself and the world it creates, and this is where "Quantum of Solace" breaks down. It begins minutes after the end of the last movie, with a breathtaking car chase in the gorgeous Aston Martin that we watched get totalled in the last part of "Casino Royale". Don't EVEN tell me scores of them are stashed around the world just in case 007 needs one, or that they're airlifted to him constantly to ensure availibility as he destroys one after another. There is no explaination of who chases him or why. If its to rescue the man Bond has stuffed in the trunk then why do they perforate it with machine gun fire? A big part of why "Casino Royale" was so good is that it showed the most human Bond ever: tough, resourceful, and uber-capable, but flawed, vulnerable, and sympathetic. That Bond is gone, replaced by an emotionless, bulletproof, British Terminator. The diabolical plan of the enemy (a vast, shadowy criminal order with "people everywhere" that MI6 doesn't even know exists) is to usurp control of the water in a remote section of Bolivian desert. Not petroleum, not uranium, or even diamonds. What their purpose in doing this is not disclosed. Bolivia is a fine country and I have been honored to know some of its citizens, but why this causes a global emergency is never addressed. Also, this criminal organization makes its desert headquarters in a modern luxury HOTEL. Not a hidden underground complex or fortress, a HOTEL, located in the middle of a barren wasteland, miles from anything of interest. Uhm, so why is there a hotel there? "Well they built it just to meet in." Okay, then why NOT build the hidden underground complex or fortress? They certainly weren't making any money renting out rooms - you don't see a single guest there other than the bad guys, though it is fully staffed. Bond finally captures the villian, he who was responsible for the death of his love in "Casino Royale". Rather than simply executing him in coldly efficient manner (FLASHBACK:"Thats a Smith&Wesson and you've had your six." Pfft pfft *silencer*) he hands him a quart of motor oil and maroons him in the desert. His body is found later with a stomach full of motor oil. Are we to believe that thirst causes him to DRINK A QUART OF MOTOR OIL?! I've been in the desert and been damn thirsty and motor oil was availible, but I didn't even consider drinking it because A) I craved WATER, not motor oil, and B) it would've killed me. If driven to suicide by his hopeless situation it would be far easier, quicker, less hideous, and less painful to jump off a cliff, or even just lay down and die. Much like "Casino" this movie is notably devoid of any of the wonderful high-tech gadgets that are a Bond trademark. Sorry, NO, his Blackberry doesn't cut it. This worked in "Casino" because it was a story-driven movie but it leaves "Quantum", with it's overdose of action and next to no story at all, strangely wanting. Q Branch isn't even mentioned. While the gadgetry became ridiculous with the Aston Martin "Vanish" in the Brosnan-era, I LIKE 007's super-conducting magnetic and/or laser beam wristwatch, exploding ballpoint pen, deadly attache case, and I'm certain I'm not the only one. NO car has ever been cooler than the DB5 'Espionage Special' with its gadgets, ejection seat, and armaments galore. I reiterate my earlier statement on Daniel Craig (see article below:"They Could've Been Bond - James Bond"): He is a good, interesting, and competent actor. I LIKE him. He is rugged, masculine, and posseses a rough but powerful charisma - but HE DOESN"T LOOK LIKE Bond. All the literary descriptions of Bond state he is dark-haired, dark-eyed, and handsome and Mr. Craig is none of these things. Undoubtedly he will appear at least once more as Bond, and undoubtedly I will be entertained by it, but when his contract is done can we PLEASE have Clive Owen and a Q Branch-issued watch?
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
CMH Awardee Ed Freeman
Facts confirmed by my friend Jennifer Hoyer, but the author is anonymous.
11-14-65. A 19 yr old, critically wounded, dying in the jungle in La Drang Valley, LZ X-ray, Vietnam . The unit is outnumbered 8 - 1, and enemy fire so heavy that the C.O. ordered Medevac helicopters away. Lying there listening to enemy guns he knew he wasn’t getting out. His family was 12,000 miles away, and he’d never see them again. His world started to fade out and he knew this was the day. Then over the noise of battle, he faintly heard a helo and he opened his eyes to see an UNARMED Huey with no Medevac markings on it land nearby. A guardian angel had come for him. Ed Freeman wasn’t Medevac, so when the Medevacs were ordered not to come he flew his Huey into hot LZ’s to ferry out wounded. It wasn’t his job, but he did it anyway. He sat there in the machine gun fire as they loaded that young man and 3 others on board, then he flew up and out through the gunfire, to the forward medical units, and he kept going back - 13 more times. That day alone Ed took about 30 wounded out who never would have gotten out otherwise.
Medal of Honor Recipient, Ed Freeman, died last Wednesday (07-01-09) at the age of 80 in Boise, Idaho. God bless him.
11-14-65. A 19 yr old, critically wounded, dying in the jungle in La Drang Valley, LZ X-ray, Vietnam . The unit is outnumbered 8 - 1, and enemy fire so heavy that the C.O. ordered Medevac helicopters away. Lying there listening to enemy guns he knew he wasn’t getting out. His family was 12,000 miles away, and he’d never see them again. His world started to fade out and he knew this was the day. Then over the noise of battle, he faintly heard a helo and he opened his eyes to see an UNARMED Huey with no Medevac markings on it land nearby. A guardian angel had come for him. Ed Freeman wasn’t Medevac, so when the Medevacs were ordered not to come he flew his Huey into hot LZ’s to ferry out wounded. It wasn’t his job, but he did it anyway. He sat there in the machine gun fire as they loaded that young man and 3 others on board, then he flew up and out through the gunfire, to the forward medical units, and he kept going back - 13 more times. That day alone Ed took about 30 wounded out who never would have gotten out otherwise.
Medal of Honor Recipient, Ed Freeman, died last Wednesday (07-01-09) at the age of 80 in Boise, Idaho. God bless him.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Click here to hear Callie Cardamon sing jazz standards. Outstanding.
She also has a cd of original songs called "Time and the Weather" that garnered much critical praise. Also very worth listening to.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Hunter S. Thompson Gonzo Quotes
A word to the wise is infuriating.
Hunter S. Thompson
We're a nation of two hundred million salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable.
Hunter S. Thompson
Buy the ticket, take the ride.
Hunter S. Thompson
Trust in God, but row away from the rocks.
Hunter S. Thompson
For every selfish moment of triumph many souls are trampled.
Hunter S. Thompson
Going to trial with a lawyer who considers your whole life-style a Crime in Progress is not a happy prospect.
Hunter S. Thompson
I feel the same way about disco as I do about herpes.
Hunter S. Thompson
I have a theory that truth is not told during the nine-to-five hours.
Hunter S. Thompson
I wouldn't recommend sex, drugs or insanity for everyone, but they've always worked for me.
Hunter S. Thompson
If I'd written all the truth I knew for the past ten years, about 600 people - including me - would be rotting in prison cells from Rio to Seattle today. Absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity in the context of professional journalism.
Hunter S. Thompson
If you're going to be crazy you have to get paid for it or you're going to get locked up.
Hunter S. Thompson
In a society where everybody's guilty the only crime is getting caught. In a world of thieves the only final sin is stupidity.
Hunter S. Thompson
The Law of the Sea: Civilization ends at the waterline. Beyond that we enter the food chain, and not at the top.
Hunter S. Thompson
No man is so foolish but that he might sometimes give good counsel, and no man is so wise that he does not err if he never takes counsel save his own. He that is taught only by himself has a fool for a master.
Hunter S. Thompson
Politics is just the art of controlling your environment.
Hunter S. Thompson
There is no honest way to explain the Edge, because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over it.
Hunter S. Thompson
The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. Then there's the negative side.
Hunter S. Thompson
There is nothing more helpless and irresponsible than a man in the depths of a binge.
Hunter S. Thompson
When the going gets weird the weird turn pro.
Hunter S. Thompson
It still hasn't gotten weird enough for me.
Hunter S. Thompson
You better take care of me Lord. If you don't you're gonna have me on your hands.
Hunter S. Thompson
Hunter S. Thompson
We're a nation of two hundred million salesmen with all the money we need to buy guns and no qualms about killing anybody else in the world who tries to make us uncomfortable.
Hunter S. Thompson
Buy the ticket, take the ride.
Hunter S. Thompson
Trust in God, but row away from the rocks.
Hunter S. Thompson
For every selfish moment of triumph many souls are trampled.
Hunter S. Thompson
Going to trial with a lawyer who considers your whole life-style a Crime in Progress is not a happy prospect.
Hunter S. Thompson
I feel the same way about disco as I do about herpes.
Hunter S. Thompson
I have a theory that truth is not told during the nine-to-five hours.
Hunter S. Thompson
I wouldn't recommend sex, drugs or insanity for everyone, but they've always worked for me.
Hunter S. Thompson
If I'd written all the truth I knew for the past ten years, about 600 people - including me - would be rotting in prison cells from Rio to Seattle today. Absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity in the context of professional journalism.
Hunter S. Thompson
If you're going to be crazy you have to get paid for it or you're going to get locked up.
Hunter S. Thompson
In a society where everybody's guilty the only crime is getting caught. In a world of thieves the only final sin is stupidity.
Hunter S. Thompson
The Law of the Sea: Civilization ends at the waterline. Beyond that we enter the food chain, and not at the top.
Hunter S. Thompson
No man is so foolish but that he might sometimes give good counsel, and no man is so wise that he does not err if he never takes counsel save his own. He that is taught only by himself has a fool for a master.
Hunter S. Thompson
Politics is just the art of controlling your environment.
Hunter S. Thompson
There is no honest way to explain the Edge, because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over it.
Hunter S. Thompson
The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. Then there's the negative side.
Hunter S. Thompson
There is nothing more helpless and irresponsible than a man in the depths of a binge.
Hunter S. Thompson
When the going gets weird the weird turn pro.
Hunter S. Thompson
It still hasn't gotten weird enough for me.
Hunter S. Thompson
You better take care of me Lord. If you don't you're gonna have me on your hands.
Hunter S. Thompson
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
The Ultimate in Both Darwinism AND Irony.
At the annual awards dinner of the American Academy of Forensic Science, Dr. Don H. Mills astounded his audience with this story of a bizarre death:
A medical examiner concluded Ronald Opus died from a shotgun wound to the head. He'd attempted suicide by jumping from the top of a 10 story building, leaving a note to that effect, but was killed by a shotgun blast from a 9th floor window as he fell.
He was obviously unaware of the newly installed construction safety net at the
8th flr. level. His body, bearing the fatal wound but otherwise unscathed, was retrieved from this net with some difficulty.
"Usually," Dr. Mills said, "a person who dies in a suicide attempt, though the method isn't what was intended, is still defined as committing suicide. But since Mr. Opus was fatally shot before dying during the attempt, and as he wouldn't have succeeded due to the net, the med. examiner and investigators initially regarded the case a homicide."
The 9th floor apt. was occupied by an elderly man and his wife. They were arguing vigorously and he threatened her with the shotgun, but when he pulled the trigger he missed her and the pellets went through the window, striking Mr. Opus.
"When one attempts to kill A but instead kills B, one is still guilty of murder, but the man AND his wife were adamant that they both thought the shotgun was unloaded. It was his long-standing habit to threaten her with the unloaded shotgun, but he never intended to actually shoot her. Therefore, the killing of Mr. Opus was labeled an accident, though 2 of the investigators lobbied for a charge of manslaughter, as the death resulted from a criminal act (threatening someone with a firearm)."
"THEN it got complicated." Dr. Mills paused for some water as assorted sounds of wonder rippled through the crowd. Once it abated he continued.
"The couple had a son and investigators discovered a witness to the fact that he'd loaded the shotgun 6 weeks prior. The old lady had cut off his financial support and knowing his father often threatened her with the shotgun, he'd loaded it, expecting his father to shoot her. So the case reverted to one of murder, on the part of the son for the death of Ronald Opus."
"Now for the exquisite twist." Again the crowd was astonished as they pondered further complications.
"Further investigation found that the son WAS Ronald Opus. He'd grown depressed over failing to cause his mother's death, leading him to jump off the building, only to be killed by the shotgun blast. The son had actually murdered himself. It was accidental death, murder, manslaughter, AND suicide. Due to the anguish Mr. Opus's parents had already suffered, the medical examiner and lead investigator decided on suicide and closed the books."
Submitted by: Sandra Culp - Associated Press
To quote another famous story-teller: "Now you know the REST of the story!" -- Todd
A medical examiner concluded Ronald Opus died from a shotgun wound to the head. He'd attempted suicide by jumping from the top of a 10 story building, leaving a note to that effect, but was killed by a shotgun blast from a 9th floor window as he fell.
He was obviously unaware of the newly installed construction safety net at the
8th flr. level. His body, bearing the fatal wound but otherwise unscathed, was retrieved from this net with some difficulty.
"Usually," Dr. Mills said, "a person who dies in a suicide attempt, though the method isn't what was intended, is still defined as committing suicide. But since Mr. Opus was fatally shot before dying during the attempt, and as he wouldn't have succeeded due to the net, the med. examiner and investigators initially regarded the case a homicide."
The 9th floor apt. was occupied by an elderly man and his wife. They were arguing vigorously and he threatened her with the shotgun, but when he pulled the trigger he missed her and the pellets went through the window, striking Mr. Opus.
"When one attempts to kill A but instead kills B, one is still guilty of murder, but the man AND his wife were adamant that they both thought the shotgun was unloaded. It was his long-standing habit to threaten her with the unloaded shotgun, but he never intended to actually shoot her. Therefore, the killing of Mr. Opus was labeled an accident, though 2 of the investigators lobbied for a charge of manslaughter, as the death resulted from a criminal act (threatening someone with a firearm)."
"THEN it got complicated." Dr. Mills paused for some water as assorted sounds of wonder rippled through the crowd. Once it abated he continued.
"The couple had a son and investigators discovered a witness to the fact that he'd loaded the shotgun 6 weeks prior. The old lady had cut off his financial support and knowing his father often threatened her with the shotgun, he'd loaded it, expecting his father to shoot her. So the case reverted to one of murder, on the part of the son for the death of Ronald Opus."
"Now for the exquisite twist." Again the crowd was astonished as they pondered further complications.
"Further investigation found that the son WAS Ronald Opus. He'd grown depressed over failing to cause his mother's death, leading him to jump off the building, only to be killed by the shotgun blast. The son had actually murdered himself. It was accidental death, murder, manslaughter, AND suicide. Due to the anguish Mr. Opus's parents had already suffered, the medical examiner and lead investigator decided on suicide and closed the books."
Submitted by: Sandra Culp - Associated Press
To quote another famous story-teller: "Now you know the REST of the story!" -- Todd
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Things I Have Learned --
Life ain't fair. And it's not supposed to be.
People are mirrors. They reflect back what you show them.
Don't take advice from someone more screwed up than you are.
I'm the maker of my destiny. I'm the only one that can make my life be how I want it to be, and if I do this no one can take it away. This is always a work in progress.
Growth occurs in two ways, through love or through pain.
You and everyone else will always fall short of perfection. To expect it is to guarantee failure.
You have the right to be mad. You don't have the right to be cruel.
People essentially want only two things in life: To love and to be loved.
Never enter a situation in which you have no options. These are known as traps.
Time spent with your kids is not wasted.
You can't become who you want to be by staying the way you are.
When someone says: "The reality is -- ", it means: "What I want you to believe is -- ", and seldom has to do with reality.
Don't complain about getting older. It beats the alternative.
When the pain of not doing it outweighs the pain of doing it, you'll do it.
Protect your eyes. You get ONE pair.
A good life doesn't come from doing what's fun, but from living right. Living right often means doing what is NOT fun.
Love is a wonderful and powerful thing, but all by itself it is not enough.
Friends may come and go. Enemies are forever.
Give blood.
You don't get to choose your family but you do get to choose your friends. Choose wisely.
A parent's most difficult and important job is to raise their children to not need them.
Get the best-fitting shoes you can.
A smile is the easiest and quickest way to make yourself attractive.
Use sweet words. They go down easier when you have to eat them.
Buckle up.
Don't waste breath arguing with a fool or a drunk.
Loving someone is easy. Living with someone is hard.
Suffering cures shallowness.
NEVER take diuretics and sleeping meds at the same time.
Time speeds up as you get older.
You can't outrun radio.
Talk to old folks. It's astounding what they've experienced and what you'll learn from them.
Learn to cook.
Anger is a form of fear.
Manners are the oil of society.
Helping others helps you.
Dance.
Kindness is its own reward.
The Golden Rule is never inappropriate.
Never make fun of others less fortunate. You will come to regret it.
Your parents get smarter as you age.
Don't wear a white swimsuit.
It's better to be quiet and let people wonder if you're ignorant than to speak and remove all doubt.
Invest in a good suit. Weddings and funerals are inevitable.
Don't destroy anyone's dreams and don't let anyone destroy your's.
There is good reason why you have two ears but only one mouth.
There is a big difference between being honest and being brutally honest. One is honesty, the other is brutality.
Things are almost never black or white. Life comes mostly in shades of gray.
My ability to affect other people, places, and things is almost nil, but I can affect my response to them.
Don't try to bathe a cat.
When your life is in the pits quit digging.
If you lend someone money and never see them again it was a good investment.
If you have two good arms and legs, you're blessed. Just ask someone who doesn't.
We judge ourselves based on our intentions, but everyone else judges us based on our actions.
Second chances don't come around very often. If you get one grab it with both hands and hang on for all you're worth.
The heaviest thing I can carry is a grudge.
The happiness in my life depends on the quality of my thoughts.
People are mirrors. They reflect back what you show them.
Don't take advice from someone more screwed up than you are.
I'm the maker of my destiny. I'm the only one that can make my life be how I want it to be, and if I do this no one can take it away. This is always a work in progress.
Growth occurs in two ways, through love or through pain.
You and everyone else will always fall short of perfection. To expect it is to guarantee failure.
You have the right to be mad. You don't have the right to be cruel.
People essentially want only two things in life: To love and to be loved.
Never enter a situation in which you have no options. These are known as traps.
Time spent with your kids is not wasted.
You can't become who you want to be by staying the way you are.
When someone says: "The reality is -- ", it means: "What I want you to believe is -- ", and seldom has to do with reality.
Don't complain about getting older. It beats the alternative.
When the pain of not doing it outweighs the pain of doing it, you'll do it.
Protect your eyes. You get ONE pair.
A good life doesn't come from doing what's fun, but from living right. Living right often means doing what is NOT fun.
Love is a wonderful and powerful thing, but all by itself it is not enough.
Friends may come and go. Enemies are forever.
Give blood.
You don't get to choose your family but you do get to choose your friends. Choose wisely.
A parent's most difficult and important job is to raise their children to not need them.
Get the best-fitting shoes you can.
A smile is the easiest and quickest way to make yourself attractive.
Use sweet words. They go down easier when you have to eat them.
Buckle up.
Don't waste breath arguing with a fool or a drunk.
Loving someone is easy. Living with someone is hard.
Suffering cures shallowness.
NEVER take diuretics and sleeping meds at the same time.
Time speeds up as you get older.
You can't outrun radio.
Talk to old folks. It's astounding what they've experienced and what you'll learn from them.
Learn to cook.
Anger is a form of fear.
Manners are the oil of society.
Helping others helps you.
Dance.
Kindness is its own reward.
The Golden Rule is never inappropriate.
Never make fun of others less fortunate. You will come to regret it.
Your parents get smarter as you age.
Don't wear a white swimsuit.
It's better to be quiet and let people wonder if you're ignorant than to speak and remove all doubt.
Invest in a good suit. Weddings and funerals are inevitable.
Don't destroy anyone's dreams and don't let anyone destroy your's.
There is good reason why you have two ears but only one mouth.
There is a big difference between being honest and being brutally honest. One is honesty, the other is brutality.
Things are almost never black or white. Life comes mostly in shades of gray.
My ability to affect other people, places, and things is almost nil, but I can affect my response to them.
Don't try to bathe a cat.
When your life is in the pits quit digging.
If you lend someone money and never see them again it was a good investment.
If you have two good arms and legs, you're blessed. Just ask someone who doesn't.
We judge ourselves based on our intentions, but everyone else judges us based on our actions.
Second chances don't come around very often. If you get one grab it with both hands and hang on for all you're worth.
The heaviest thing I can carry is a grudge.
The happiness in my life depends on the quality of my thoughts.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
In-Betweener.
Too old for Generation X, too young to be Boomers,
We were In-Betweeners, heir to ugly rumors.
Intellect a-plenty but still we missed the cut,
Because our minds were lost in space until they rusted shut.
No one to look up to, no heroes for our time.
The oval office lied to us, the gridiron didn't shine.
The Establishment was monstrous, and hippies a joke.
Eighteen to drink, but don't take a toke.
Thrift was a virtue, but money was dirty.
Too young to vote, can't trust over thirty.
When Dr. Hoffman discovered a light,
Leary, Minzer, and Alpert, said it was right,
Huxley, Cassaday, and Kesey, gave it away,
But did us no kindess, that mind-bending day.
When everything is melting, on what do you lean?
Merrily, merrily, Merry Pranksters, life ain't just a dream.
We'd never buy the status quo once we'd walked that edge.
We balanced there upon the brink but backed down from the ledge.
Still the sun rose, birds sang, fields waved,
But wasn't there more from cradle to grave?
We sought relevance in ports of call beyond the farthest field.
When those dreams battered us denial was our shield.
Through bar-rooms, backrooms, alleyways,
We searched for clarity while in a haze.
Surviving brawls, lockups, breakups, beatings,
Pipe-dreams, bottle flu, paranoia, lack of meaning,
Loneliness, pointlessness, fatigue, misdirection,
Disillusionment, foreboding, and flat-out rejection.
Adamantly maintaining we were tough, free, and strong,
And found fleeting beauty between heartache and wrong.
Frustrated, some of us donned uniforms, joined a band of brothers.
Trained long and hard to shed the blood of those who'd shed our mother's.
Tropic suns and salt air made our thick skins peel,
While we cursed and laughed and worked, and fought, and drank until we reeled.
We shouted, made a universal noise: "We still live and here we stand!"
"Bowed but still unbroken, though our blood is on the sand."
And then that far-off home, once boring and colorless,
Seemed so fine we ached for it, but that we'd not confess.
After laying down our rifles and again our lives we owned,
We stayed away because of pride, though once a week we phoned.
We ventured then to stride along the halls of higher learning.
We'd heard this was the path to life, and more important, earning,
Then were rudely disillusioned when the world did not come calling.
It cost a lot but mattered not, a life just begun was stalling.
A sheepskin is no cushion when from the heights you fall,
Or run confused from normal life and run into a wall.
The grey-haired heads of academe taught us facts and numbers,
But not how to have a life, or dreams outside our slumbers.
We were all a little anxious to find a special someone.
We didn't know the words to love songs, but sometimes we could hum one.
We settled in and settled down when it no longer mattered,
Dissolution? Never. But those quaint dreams were shattered.
The sounds of little feet and little children's laughter
Gave a hint of what we'd known and still were chasing after.
The pharmacist became the new distributor of sanity,
And on we went to toil away in apathy and vanity,
There was no joy in Muddville, but also no calamity.
A week per annum for the illusion that "now By God we're making it".
We buy the trinkets and send the cards to prove that we're not faking it.
Every now and then the chuchbell rings and off we have to go,
To mark another ending, be it friend or foe.
We dab our eyes, shake the hands, quote the proper homilies,
Offer up our deep concern while hoping its an anomaly,
Because we fear deep in our hearts a fate that we have earned,
When next those funeral bells sound out that it will be our turn.
A lawn so green, a car so clean,
A football cheer, a weekend beer,
A billion bright computer screens at night year after year,
Connect us, entertain us,
Inform us, isolate us,
Make us cry, make us shout,
Inflame our lust, incite our doubt.
Now we really DO turn on, tune in, drop out.
We carry phones everywhere so we can stay in touch
Because our words are vital and they matter oh so much
But instead of bringing us together they distance us from others.
I can't take the time to drop on by, I'll just call my brothers.
The lessons learned, the bridges burned,
The paths not taken, the hearts left achin',
The God we scorned, the virtue mourned,
The times we cried, the ways we died,
The battles fought, the grace we sought,
The burdens carried, the friends we've buried,
The walls we build, the dreams we killed,
The bliss we tasted, the fortunes wasted,
The home not found, the extra pound,
The truths not told, the growing old.
Our fathers tried to tell us but they didn't know our minds.
They didn't speak our language and they couldn't read our signs.
They had fought the good fight, came home to golden times.
So outward always seeking but never there to find
The happiness we'd heard about, hidden in our minds.
We searched for it in others, or in a drink, a song, a place.
We moaned and cried and tossed and turned, and blamed the human race.
Elusive, reclusive, simple, complex.
I can't pray right now Lord, but I'll send a text.
Dreamed about, fought for,
Lusted after, hated for.
Argued over, lamented,
Cried over, re-invented.
It's where you find it, thats what they said,
So damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead,
Not so much hell-bound, more like hell-bent,
And the harder we looked the faster we went.
So when we had exhausted our faith,
And wasted ourselves chasing a wraith,
Simple truth finally lit the dark night,
To win that long battle you give up the fight,
And that happiness comes not from pursuing pleasure,
But from right living, and giving full measure,
Of those simple things that once we treasured:
Your time, love, attention, fair play,
Friendship, kindness, kid stuff you say?
Learning, sharing, giving your best,
Concern, respect, offering rest.
These things we'd always scorned as too simple,
In the end answer that maddening riddle.
So let in the light, take your heart off the shelf,
Unlock the doors and shake hands with yourself.
We were In-Betweeners, heir to ugly rumors.
Intellect a-plenty but still we missed the cut,
Because our minds were lost in space until they rusted shut.
No one to look up to, no heroes for our time.
The oval office lied to us, the gridiron didn't shine.
The Establishment was monstrous, and hippies a joke.
Eighteen to drink, but don't take a toke.
Thrift was a virtue, but money was dirty.
Too young to vote, can't trust over thirty.
When Dr. Hoffman discovered a light,
Leary, Minzer, and Alpert, said it was right,
Huxley, Cassaday, and Kesey, gave it away,
But did us no kindess, that mind-bending day.
When everything is melting, on what do you lean?
Merrily, merrily, Merry Pranksters, life ain't just a dream.
We'd never buy the status quo once we'd walked that edge.
We balanced there upon the brink but backed down from the ledge.
Still the sun rose, birds sang, fields waved,
But wasn't there more from cradle to grave?
We sought relevance in ports of call beyond the farthest field.
When those dreams battered us denial was our shield.
Through bar-rooms, backrooms, alleyways,
We searched for clarity while in a haze.
Surviving brawls, lockups, breakups, beatings,
Pipe-dreams, bottle flu, paranoia, lack of meaning,
Loneliness, pointlessness, fatigue, misdirection,
Disillusionment, foreboding, and flat-out rejection.
Adamantly maintaining we were tough, free, and strong,
And found fleeting beauty between heartache and wrong.
Frustrated, some of us donned uniforms, joined a band of brothers.
Trained long and hard to shed the blood of those who'd shed our mother's.
Tropic suns and salt air made our thick skins peel,
While we cursed and laughed and worked, and fought, and drank until we reeled.
We shouted, made a universal noise: "We still live and here we stand!"
"Bowed but still unbroken, though our blood is on the sand."
And then that far-off home, once boring and colorless,
Seemed so fine we ached for it, but that we'd not confess.
After laying down our rifles and again our lives we owned,
We stayed away because of pride, though once a week we phoned.
We ventured then to stride along the halls of higher learning.
We'd heard this was the path to life, and more important, earning,
Then were rudely disillusioned when the world did not come calling.
It cost a lot but mattered not, a life just begun was stalling.
A sheepskin is no cushion when from the heights you fall,
Or run confused from normal life and run into a wall.
The grey-haired heads of academe taught us facts and numbers,
But not how to have a life, or dreams outside our slumbers.
We were all a little anxious to find a special someone.
We didn't know the words to love songs, but sometimes we could hum one.
We settled in and settled down when it no longer mattered,
Dissolution? Never. But those quaint dreams were shattered.
The sounds of little feet and little children's laughter
Gave a hint of what we'd known and still were chasing after.
The pharmacist became the new distributor of sanity,
And on we went to toil away in apathy and vanity,
There was no joy in Muddville, but also no calamity.
A week per annum for the illusion that "now By God we're making it".
We buy the trinkets and send the cards to prove that we're not faking it.
Every now and then the chuchbell rings and off we have to go,
To mark another ending, be it friend or foe.
We dab our eyes, shake the hands, quote the proper homilies,
Offer up our deep concern while hoping its an anomaly,
Because we fear deep in our hearts a fate that we have earned,
When next those funeral bells sound out that it will be our turn.
A lawn so green, a car so clean,
A football cheer, a weekend beer,
A billion bright computer screens at night year after year,
Connect us, entertain us,
Inform us, isolate us,
Make us cry, make us shout,
Inflame our lust, incite our doubt.
Now we really DO turn on, tune in, drop out.
We carry phones everywhere so we can stay in touch
Because our words are vital and they matter oh so much
But instead of bringing us together they distance us from others.
I can't take the time to drop on by, I'll just call my brothers.
The lessons learned, the bridges burned,
The paths not taken, the hearts left achin',
The God we scorned, the virtue mourned,
The times we cried, the ways we died,
The battles fought, the grace we sought,
The burdens carried, the friends we've buried,
The walls we build, the dreams we killed,
The bliss we tasted, the fortunes wasted,
The home not found, the extra pound,
The truths not told, the growing old.
Our fathers tried to tell us but they didn't know our minds.
They didn't speak our language and they couldn't read our signs.
They had fought the good fight, came home to golden times.
So outward always seeking but never there to find
The happiness we'd heard about, hidden in our minds.
We searched for it in others, or in a drink, a song, a place.
We moaned and cried and tossed and turned, and blamed the human race.
Elusive, reclusive, simple, complex.
I can't pray right now Lord, but I'll send a text.
Dreamed about, fought for,
Lusted after, hated for.
Argued over, lamented,
Cried over, re-invented.
It's where you find it, thats what they said,
So damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead,
Not so much hell-bound, more like hell-bent,
And the harder we looked the faster we went.
So when we had exhausted our faith,
And wasted ourselves chasing a wraith,
Simple truth finally lit the dark night,
To win that long battle you give up the fight,
And that happiness comes not from pursuing pleasure,
But from right living, and giving full measure,
Of those simple things that once we treasured:
Your time, love, attention, fair play,
Friendship, kindness, kid stuff you say?
Learning, sharing, giving your best,
Concern, respect, offering rest.
These things we'd always scorned as too simple,
In the end answer that maddening riddle.
So let in the light, take your heart off the shelf,
Unlock the doors and shake hands with yourself.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Look, then look again . . . .
A brilliant picture! Startling, funny, interesting, and pretty creepy all at the same time. The little sign on the mirror says: "Schizophrenia can be treated. Seek help."
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Heroes Of Legend
A shameless bit of self-promotion:
I wrote a book! It is called Heroes Of Legend and is a fantasy-adventure novella. It is out of print now but last I knew you could still get a copy on Amazon. It received some decent reviews and comments by readers (some of which can be read on Amazon). While Tolkien would have nothing to worry about from my writing, reviewers almost universally thought it was interesting and a fun read. It is suitable for anyone from young teen on up who enjoys a good fantasy yarn. Thats what it is really, a yarn. I've never maintained that I'm a great writer, but I am a good storyteller. So please give it a read. I welcome comments. Currently a sequel is in the works. It is entitled The Queen of Thieves and as much fun as "Heroes -- " is I believe this one will be a better story.
I am also compiling much of the knowledge and experience I gleaned from several years as a personal trainer into a training manual entitled "The Power Cycle". It is not lengthy and is a practical and easy to follow guide for anyone interested in increasing their strength. It also contains several anecdotes and fascinating bits of strength history and stories of many legendary strong men.
I wrote a book! It is called Heroes Of Legend and is a fantasy-adventure novella. It is out of print now but last I knew you could still get a copy on Amazon. It received some decent reviews and comments by readers (some of which can be read on Amazon). While Tolkien would have nothing to worry about from my writing, reviewers almost universally thought it was interesting and a fun read. It is suitable for anyone from young teen on up who enjoys a good fantasy yarn. Thats what it is really, a yarn. I've never maintained that I'm a great writer, but I am a good storyteller. So please give it a read. I welcome comments. Currently a sequel is in the works. It is entitled The Queen of Thieves and as much fun as "Heroes -- " is I believe this one will be a better story.
I am also compiling much of the knowledge and experience I gleaned from several years as a personal trainer into a training manual entitled "The Power Cycle". It is not lengthy and is a practical and easy to follow guide for anyone interested in increasing their strength. It also contains several anecdotes and fascinating bits of strength history and stories of many legendary strong men.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Jokes and Other Things That Tickle My Funnybone.
There's Nothing Like a Good Pun! (and some would say that this is nothing like one).
Ghandi, the great spiritual leader of India, was a vegetarian. The lack of protein in his diet caused him to be quite skinny and frail, and because he would use no leather or other animal products, he went without shoes, causing him to develop extraordinarily thick calluses on his feet. His dietary habits also led him to develop virulent bad breath. Of course you know what this made him, don't you?
A super-callused fragile mystic hexed with halitosis!
(Badum-dum!)
______________________________________
The Ultimate 'Should've Seen It Coming' Joke.
A guy living in a highrise stuck his hand out the window one evening to determine if it was raining and amazingly a glass eye fell right into his hand!
Dumbfounded, he sticks his head out and looks up to see a lady leaning out a window directly above him three floors.
"Thank goodness you caught that!" she calls to him. "They're very expensive!"
"Well -- I'll come right up and return it to you," he calls back up to her.
Since she is directly above him he knows exactly where to go so he just goes up three floors and knocks on her door. A very pretty lady with one eye scrunched shut answers the door.
"Thanks so much! My homeowners insurance wouldn't cover this." She pops it back in and grins at him.
"Well . . you're welcome," he mutters and turns to leave.
"Wait!" she says. "Just thanking you isn't enough. Please let me take you to dinner."
She is extremely attractive and seems very nice so of course he accepts. They go out, have a great meal, share a bottle of wine, great conversation, and really enjoy themselves.
They live in the same building so naturally they come home together and like a gentleman he walks her to her door and thanks her for a great evening.
"I don't think dinner is enough," she tells him. "Why don't you just stay here with me tonight?"
Though he thinks she's very sexy he's a bit taken aback by this.
"My gosh! Don't get me wrong -- you're a wonderful girl! But are you this forward with every man you meet?" he asks.
"No," she replies. "Just the ones that catch my eye!"
D'OH!!!
______________________________________
A fella walks into a bar with a pair of jumper cables wrapped around his neck.
The bartender eyes him warily then tells him, "Okay buddy I'll serve ya,but don't try to start anything."
_______________________________________
A man tells his psychiatrist, "Doc, I just can't stop singing "The Green Green Grass of Home". What could it be?!"
The shrink replies, "Simple. You have Tom Jones Syndrome."
"Well that's an awfully quick diagnosis . . . . Is it common?"
"It's Not Unusual."
_______________________________________
Same guy (poor fella!) goes back to his psychiatrist with another mysterious ailment.
"Doc, sometimes I think I'm a wigwam, sometimes I think I'm a teepee. A wigwam, a teepee! A wigwam, a teepee! Whats the matter with me?!"
But again, the shrink knew the problem. "You're just too tense."
(2 tents)
_______________________________________
Two Eskimo's were in a boat fishing and got cold so they lit a small fire. Of course it burned a hole in the hull and the boat sank, thus proving that you can't have your kayak and heat it too.
_______________________________________
The other day I was at the meat counter and struck up a conversation with the butcher, a towering man. I said "You're a tall guy but I'll bet you $100 you can't reach the beef up there on the highest shelf."
He turned to look but after considering it for a moment he shook his head. "Nope. The steaks are too high".
_______________________________________
A beaver waddles into a bar, hops up on a stool and asks, "Is the bar tender here?"
_______________________________________
A penguin, an elephant, a midget, a rabbi, a priest, and a nun walk into a bar.
The bartender takes one look and says, "All right, what is this? Some kind of a joke?"
_______________________________________
Ghandi, the great spiritual leader of India, was a vegetarian. The lack of protein in his diet caused him to be quite skinny and frail, and because he would use no leather or other animal products, he went without shoes, causing him to develop extraordinarily thick calluses on his feet. His dietary habits also led him to develop virulent bad breath. Of course you know what this made him, don't you?
A super-callused fragile mystic hexed with halitosis!
(Badum-dum!)
______________________________________
The Ultimate 'Should've Seen It Coming' Joke.
A guy living in a highrise stuck his hand out the window one evening to determine if it was raining and amazingly a glass eye fell right into his hand!
Dumbfounded, he sticks his head out and looks up to see a lady leaning out a window directly above him three floors.
"Thank goodness you caught that!" she calls to him. "They're very expensive!"
"Well -- I'll come right up and return it to you," he calls back up to her.
Since she is directly above him he knows exactly where to go so he just goes up three floors and knocks on her door. A very pretty lady with one eye scrunched shut answers the door.
"Thanks so much! My homeowners insurance wouldn't cover this." She pops it back in and grins at him.
"Well . . you're welcome," he mutters and turns to leave.
"Wait!" she says. "Just thanking you isn't enough. Please let me take you to dinner."
She is extremely attractive and seems very nice so of course he accepts. They go out, have a great meal, share a bottle of wine, great conversation, and really enjoy themselves.
They live in the same building so naturally they come home together and like a gentleman he walks her to her door and thanks her for a great evening.
"I don't think dinner is enough," she tells him. "Why don't you just stay here with me tonight?"
Though he thinks she's very sexy he's a bit taken aback by this.
"My gosh! Don't get me wrong -- you're a wonderful girl! But are you this forward with every man you meet?" he asks.
"No," she replies. "Just the ones that catch my eye!"
D'OH!!!
______________________________________
A fella walks into a bar with a pair of jumper cables wrapped around his neck.
The bartender eyes him warily then tells him, "Okay buddy I'll serve ya,but don't try to start anything."
_______________________________________
A man tells his psychiatrist, "Doc, I just can't stop singing "The Green Green Grass of Home". What could it be?!"
The shrink replies, "Simple. You have Tom Jones Syndrome."
"Well that's an awfully quick diagnosis . . . . Is it common?"
"It's Not Unusual."
_______________________________________
Same guy (poor fella!) goes back to his psychiatrist with another mysterious ailment.
"Doc, sometimes I think I'm a wigwam, sometimes I think I'm a teepee. A wigwam, a teepee! A wigwam, a teepee! Whats the matter with me?!"
But again, the shrink knew the problem. "You're just too tense."
(2 tents)
_______________________________________
Two Eskimo's were in a boat fishing and got cold so they lit a small fire. Of course it burned a hole in the hull and the boat sank, thus proving that you can't have your kayak and heat it too.
_______________________________________
The other day I was at the meat counter and struck up a conversation with the butcher, a towering man. I said "You're a tall guy but I'll bet you $100 you can't reach the beef up there on the highest shelf."
He turned to look but after considering it for a moment he shook his head. "Nope. The steaks are too high".
_______________________________________
A beaver waddles into a bar, hops up on a stool and asks, "Is the bar tender here?"
_______________________________________
A penguin, an elephant, a midget, a rabbi, a priest, and a nun walk into a bar.
The bartender takes one look and says, "All right, what is this? Some kind of a joke?"
_______________________________________
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