Jim And Edna

Posted in Library of Congress, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on September 21, 2019

Jim and Edna were both patients in a mental hospital. One day while they were walking past the hospital swimming pool, Jim suddenly jumped into the deep end.
He sank to the bottom of the pool and stayed there. Edna promptly jumped in to save him. She swam to the bottom and pulled Jim out.

When the Director of Nursing became aware of Edna’s heroic act, she immediately ordered her to be discharged from the hospital, as she now considered her to be mentally stable. When she went to tell Edna the news she said:

“Edna, I have good news and bad news. The good news is you’re being discharged. Since you were able to rationally respond to a crisis by jumping in and saving the life of another patient, I have concluded that your act displays sound mindedness.

The bad news is that Jim, the patient you saved, hung himself in his bathroom with the belt of his robe right after you saved him. I am so sorry, but he’s dead.”

Edna replied, “He didn’t hang himself. I put him there to dry. How soon can I go home?”

This story is from an e-mail, and was not written by chamblee54. The author deserves your thoughts and prayers. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. This is a repost

What Is In That Picture?

Posted in GSU photo archive, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on September 12, 2019








“Cam you are killing me with all of these uncaptioned photos. Inquiring minds want to know.” The picture had been posted on facebook to promote a post at chamblee54, An Old Farmer’s Advice. There were three young ladies playing musical instruments, while a beer drinker expressed opinions in the background. The only caption used was a credit for “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.

Here is how you get the information on a picture.
1 – Right click on the picture. Choose “Open Link in New Tab.”
2 – Note the url of the picture. For this image, it is This information is going to be helpful.
3 – Note the number at the end: n54-011_az.jpg. Disregard the .jpg. Disregard the z at the end. This was added by the editor, to let him know this is not the original image.
4 – You are left with the identifier number: n54-011_a.
5 – Click on the link to the GSU library. “ This usually provided in the text of the post.
6 – In the field that says “Enter Search Terms,” paste in the identifier number. Since an exact match is required, copy/paste is suggested. Click “Search.”
7 – Click on the thumbnail to get to the big page. This picture: Title Pontiac Motor Division, General Motors event (reception,) Identifier N54-011_a, Date of original 1971-10-12, Decade 1970s, Description Envelope description: Pontiac Motor Division; General Motors Corporation [GMC];; Lenox Towers East; The Pontiac Team on the Move, 1971

Most of the GSU pictures at chamblee54 are from two collections: Tracy O’Neal Photographs. “The Tracy W. O’Neal Collection consists of about 31,500 4×5 inch acetate negatives which are housed in 10,814 envelopes.” The identifier number for the O’Neal pictures starts with N.

Lane Brothers Photographs is the other GSU collection you usually see on chamblee54. “The Lane Brothers Commercial Photographers Photographic Collection consists of about 258,100 (196,800 4×5 inch and 61,300 2 1/2 inch) acetate negatives which are housed in 43,486 envelopes.” The identifier numbers for the Lane Brothers pictures start with LB.

The GSU library has a different link every year. Sometimes, chamblee54 does not provide the current link. If this happens, go to google and request “tracy o’neal gsu” or “lane brothers gsu.”

The Library of Congress. is the other major source of pictures for chamblee54. Looking up pictures in the Library of Congress is very similar to GSU. One exception is that the LOC link never changes. One posted in 2010, when chamblee54 started to raid this collection, works today.

1 – Right click on the picture. Choose “Open Link in New Tab.”
2 – Note the url of the picture. For this image, it is This information is going to be helpful.
3 – Note the number at the end: 8b15288x.jpg. Disregard the .jpg. Disregard the x at the end. This was added by the editor, to let him know this is not the original image.
4 – Many LOC pictures were divided into more than one image. 8b15288xa is an example. With these, you will see a letter after the x. This is not a part of the identifier number. Disregard this letter when searching for more information about the picture.
5 – You are left with the identifier number: 8b15288
6 – Click on the link to “The Library of Congress.” This usually provided in the text of the post.
7 – In the field that says “Search All,” paste in the identifier number. Since an exact match is required, copy/paste is suggested. Click “Go.”
8 – Click on the thumbnail to get to the big page. Waiting for stoplight. Washington, D.C. Creator(s): Myers, David (David Moffat), photographer Date Created/Published: 1939 July.

Historic Pictures is a page at chamblee54 with more information on these collections. Pictures today were from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.









An Old Farmer’s Advice

Posted in GSU photo archive, Quotes, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on September 12, 2019









Many of you have heard “An Old Farmer’s Advice”. This is a repost. Pictures are from “The Special Collections and Archives, Georgia State University Library”.

Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight and bull-strong. Keep skunks and bankers and lawyers at a distance. Life is simpler when you plow around the stump. A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor. Words that soak into your ears are whispered…not yelled. Meanness don’t jes’ happen overnight. Forgive your enemies. It messes up their heads. Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you. It don’t take a very big person to carry a grudge. You cannot unsay a cruel word. Every path has a few puddles. When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty. The best sermons are lived, not preached. Most of the stuff people worry about ain’t never gonna happen anyway. Don’t judge folks by their relatives. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer. Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll enjoy it a second time. Don’t interfere with somethin’ that ain’t botherin’ you none. Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance. If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin’. Sometimes you get, and sometimes you get got. The biggest troublemaker you’ll probably ever have to deal with, watches you from the mirror every mornin’. Always drink upstream from the herd. Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta that comes from bad judgment. Lettin’ the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin’ it back in. If you get to thinkin’ you’re a person of some influence, try orderin’ somebody else’s dog around. Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to G-d!

Know one knows who the old farmer is, or what he grew. Some say he really worked in an office writing ads for Massey Ferguson. Some say he had a bull farm, and believed in the product. In this age of industrial strength commodity wisdom, or glurge, the first reaction of some is to look to google. In this case, you can go to a forum at Snopes. No one claims to be the grandson of the old farmer.

My father in law is an old farmer. He’s given me some advice. It was more like: Don’t try to fix a broken porchlight in a rainstorm. corrolary: Disconnect power to the sprinkler system before fiddling with the wiring. If you wear longer socks, the chiggers won’t bite you. Cool Whip makes everything taste better. Do whatever your mother in law says.

quote: A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor. ~ Yeah, but you try getting a bumble bee to plow your fields. With the tiny little plows attached to their wings, it could take days.

quote: Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly… ~ And above all else, verb adverbly … There’s my problem, I’ve been living deeply, loving simply and speaking generously.

quote: Life is simpler when you plow around the stump. ~ I’m not sure of the lesson here…you should leave a bunch of tree stumps in your farm fields? But then you lose valuable real estate, the crops have to compete with the tree roots, and combine harvesting is significantly more dangerous. Maybe, if you take just a little time to remove the stump properly, it pays dividends and saves you time and energy in the long run. … But life is a lot cooler, and more productive if you go down to the general store, buy a few blasting caps, and blow that mother to kingdom come.

The sentiments aren’t too bad, but they missed “Now get orf moy laaand!” from the end…

quote:Most of the stuff people worry about ain’t never gonna happen anyway. ~ Oh, so I shouldn’t worry about not being able outrun a bumble bee on my John Deere tractor? Thanks.

quote: Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer. ~ But not when the waitress is asking what you’d like on your pizza. … Unless the question is “what’s the maximum decibel level a human can stand.” … Especially if you are passive-aggressive.

quote: Always drink upstream from the herd. ~ But, unless your at the absolute source of the river, there’s always another herd further upstream.

This reminds me of the episode of Frasier where he first got paired up with the Standard Issue Sassy Black Woman (SISBW) who kept trotting out mindless aphorisms from her fictional uncle. Never have I felt so much sympathy for the character.

quote: The biggest troublemaker you’ll probably ever have to deal with, watches you from the mirror every mornin’. ~ I knew it. I knew that SOB had a camera in there. I’m going to the police.









Tease Tuesday Burlesque Nerdtastic

Posted in Library of Congress, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on September 11, 2019

The day had been rolling along. Some dark clouds started to gather, and I saw relief from the hot weather. A strong rainstorm moved in. All was well, until the lights went out. A large tree fell on the power lines up the street. It was going to be a while before the juice came back on.

I did not want to spend a night in a dark house. There were a few possibilities. Then I remembered Tease Tuesday Burlesque Nerdtastic. Off into town I went. I was reminded why I don’t like driving at night. The oncoming headlights get brighter as you get older.

The format is simple. A lady gets on stage, wearing an elaborate costume. Bit by bit, the costume comes off. The g-string stays put. The boobs have pasties. Some of the pasties are festive. The boobies propel the sequin powered pasties into circadian circles.

The show was fun. I have only been to a few tittie bars, and did not especially enjoy them. I have been to a few drag shows, which is what TTBN reminded me of. A drag show with real girls.

I talked to one of the *movers and shakers* of the event at intermission. She went to her first condition when her mother was pregnant with her. This was the post-dragoncon event. The nerdiness was intentional. The lady agreed with my observation about drag shows. She said that she always wanted to be a drag queen, but told that she did not qualify. She showed her nay-sayers that she could, indeed, be a drag queen.

One of the acts in the second half had a trigger warning. If you did not like clowns, or simulated drug use, go hang out at the bar until she was over. The costume was dayglo clown makeup. The music was “Cocaine,” by Eric Clapton. Huge bags of *white powder” were displayed. At the end of the number, a bagful of pastie pastry flour decorated her clown face.

Before long, the show was over. There was not a bit of redeeming social value. It was one hundred percent entertainment.

The next stop was a nearby little shopping center. The first bar had a man singing karaoke, two people dancing, and five men sitting at the bar. The lounge across the parking lot had a drunken greeter, who was very glad to see me. I stayed for a minute or two, and went into the larger shopping center next door. The “wrinkle room” had gone out of business. The laundromat next door remains.

Since this was Tuesday night, I was surprised to see anyone out anywhere. I was even more surprised when the Heretic had a full parking lot. Their show was winding down, and I got in without a cover charge. It was a drag reality elimination. People had ballots, and were going to vote on who went to the finals next week. A six seven black man, wearing a glittering silver gown, asked me if I had voted. I told him that I saw cars in the parking lot, and wandered in. I did not stay to see who won.

Pictures are from The Library of Congress. I was too slack to take pictures of the show.

Chanel Miller

Posted in Library of Congress, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on September 10, 2019

UCSB Alumna Chanel Miller Comes Forward As Emily Doe was the slow-news-day headline. The lady saw a payday coming out, and decided to publicize her book. The public reaction has been tepid. Perhaps people have been outraged out.

@chamblee54 “My first reaction to the impact statement was that the victim did not write it. At the very least, she had help.” There is nothing wrong with using a ghost writer. The story belongs to the person who is telling it. However, some supporters of Miss Miller were offended by the suggestion. @VioletOlivine “There are many folks who have read and interacted with her work far before her survivor statement was published. I don’t know if you’ll be able to take my word for it since you can’t take hers.” This presupposes that Chanel Miller is the she we speak of.

“Totally written by Michelle Dauber.” The discussion had gone on for a while. PG had never heard of Michelle Dauber. It seems as though she is a leader in the successful effort to recall Judge Aaron Persky. A bit of googling turns up a few tidbits about @mldauber.

“Dauber’s opponents, however, often speculate that the recall was an act of revenge because of her friendship with Emily Doe’s family. After Doe penned a … letter to Turner that quickly went viral, critics suggested Dauber had been the author. Dauber flatly rejected that accusation, and dismissed the notion that she’s out for personal revenge as “so ridiculous it doesn’t even deserve a response.”

“Stanford University law professor Michele Dauber is one of the leaders of the recall campaign. Dauber is a friend of the victim’s and was in the courtroom for Turner’s sentencing. She’s an outspoken on-campus activist who has helped push through more stringent sexual harassment and abuse reporting and investigation policies. Dauber also is an adept Democratic fundraiser who has organized a well-financed recall campaign with glossy mailers juxtaposing photos of Persky with President Trump and Turner’s booking mug shot.”

@onionringslut “chanel miller deserves to be @TIME person of the year. you can’t change my mind.” @mldauber “YES.” The twitter feed of Ms. Dauber has enthusiastically supported Chanel Miller. This would tend to confirm that Chanel Miller is, in fact, Emily Doe. Rape shield laws protect the exact identity of the victim, and a big payday awaits. This would seem to be an opportunity for a fake Emily Doe to step in. However, Michelle Dauber is acknowledged to be a friend of Emily Doe. Her support of the upcoming book would seem to confirm the authenticity of Ms. Miller’s claim.

Researching this post turned up a delightful tweet. Remember, this is a law professor at Stanford University. @mldauber “Hitler had lawyers. Loads of them. And everything that his government did had a busy beehive of lawyers working away on making sure it was all done legally. The same legal profession that blessed the Third Reich is blessing Trump now. Lawyers serve power not the people.”

Chamblee54 has written about Brock Turner before. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.

Slavery And The Star Spangled Banner

Posted in Library of Congress, Undogegorized, War by chamblee54 on September 8, 2019

There is a terrific Backstory episode about the War of 1812. (Here is another one.) This is a conflict that is not much thought about, even during its bicentennial. It was not a good war for people of color. Native tribes fought with the British in Michigan, and were soundly defeated. After this war, the attitude of the white man towards the natives got worse.
Perhaps the most famous product of the War of 1812 is The Star Spangled Banner, a.k.a. the national anthem. There are a few legends about writing this song that skeptical bloggers like to shoot down. At the 43 minute mark of the backstory episode, another aspect of TSSB is discussed.
It seems as though slaves were escaping their owners, and fighting with the British. Washington lawyer Francis Scott Key was a slave owner, and thought that the slaves would be better off with their owners. This is the sentiment behind the third verse of TSSB.

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore,
That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wash’d out their foul footstep’s pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave,
And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph doth wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

The image of F.S. Key has been cleaned up over the years. This biography omits the third verse of TSSB, and does not mention his slaves. Wikipedia tells a different story. “President Jackson nominated Key for United States Attorney for the District of Columbia in 1833.”

“In 1836, Key prosecuted New York doctor Reuben Crandall, brother of controversial Connecticut school teacher Prudence Crandall, for “seditious libel” for possessing a trunk full of anti-slavery publications in his Georgetown residence. In a trial that attracted nationwide attention, Key charged that Crandall’s actions had the effect of instigating enslaved people to rebel. Crandall’s attorneys acknowledged he opposed slavery but denied any intent or actions to encourage rebellion. In his final address to the jury, Key said “Are you willing gentleman to abandon your country, to permit it to be taken from you, and occupied by the abolitionist, according to whose taste it is to associate and amalgamate with the negro? Or gentleman, on the other hand, are there laws in this community to defend you from the immediate abolitionist, who would open upon you the floodgates of such extensive wickedness and mischief?” Crandall was acquitted.”

The Huffington Post has a story about F.S. Key, ‘Land of the Free?’ Francis Scott Key, Composer of National Anthem, Was Defender of Slavery.

“Buying and selling humans remained a respectable business in Washington City. The slave holding elite of the south had a majority in the Congress and a partner in President Andrew Jackson…
To reassert the rule of law, Key set out to crack down on the anti-slavery men and their “incendiary publications.” Informants had reported to the grand jury about an abolitionist doctor from New York who was living in Georgetown. Key charged Rueben Crandall with bringing a trunk full of anti-slavery publications into the city.
In the spring of 1836, Key’s prosecution of Rueben Crandall was a national news story. In response, the American Antislavery Society circulated a broadsheet denouncing Washington as “The Slave Market of America.” The abolitionists needled Key for the hypocrisy of using his patriotic fame to defend tyranny in the capital: “Land of the Free… Home of the Oppressed.”
Key shrugged off his liberal critics. In front of courtroom crowded with Congressmen and correspondents Key waxed eloquent and indignant at the message of the abolitionists. “They declare that every law which sanctions slavery is null and void… ” Key told the jury. “That we have no more rights over our slaves than they have over us. Does not this bring the constitution and the laws under which we live into contempt? Is it not a plain invitation to resist them?”

Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. The Star Spangled Banner was written September 14, 1814. It is controversial today. This is a repost.

BLFC 2019 Part Two

Posted in Library of Congress, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on September 4, 2019

The 2019 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest is out. Here is part two of chamblee54 coverage. Part one was published yesterday. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.

Rosemary was crushed, and no amount of time or sage advice could assuage her agony or, at the very least, reduce the swelling. Bob Pellicone, Lincroft, New Jersey

She had a captivating smile and eyes the color of a poisonous frog he’d seen on a trip to Costa Rica. Carol Hobart, Edina, MN

I knew that my husband was cheating on me, because I tasted his breath on the new maid’s lips. Andrew Kim, San Jose, CA

“God, would you please get your tentacles off of my stomach,” I uttered as Forrest groaned and slithered away from my bed; I swear, if anyone ever finds out I am dating an octopus, it will be social suicide. Riley Kwortnik, Ithaca, NY

After almost twenty years of baldness, Harry finally decided to splurge on an expensive, human-hair wig – after all, four hundred dollars to look twenty years younger was a small price toupée. Julian Calvin, Bellbrook, OH

They were tough men with tough jobs who frequented tough bars with rough, tough atmospheres, and the way they gripped their drinks, cigars, and cigarettes in a manly fashion never failed to impress the tough, hard-faced women who also frequented those same bars, and often ended up having their babies. Adam Johnson

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times – though any decent statistician might net those two factors together and conclude that things were fairly average all round.
David Meech, Auckland, New Zealand

His hot, fetid breath on the back of her neck pulled her from her sleep and she felt fear grip her as she recognized his presence and scrambled quickly to untangle herself from the sheets and exit the bed before Felix could hack up the forthcoming hairball. Krista Epton, Edmonton, Alberta

Standing at the altar, dressed in white, Lucy could not help but think of the suitors she had turned down—Jock, Dick, and Willy—all lovely men, but not as lovely as her ultimate choice, now standing proudly at her side, to whom the vicar turned and questioned, “Do you, John Thomas, take Lucy . . . ?” David Hynes, Bromma, Sweden

Accidentally dropping her phone, eyelids, and fake Ottawa Valley accent was not what Sarah Hemsworthington did best, or most often, or with the most confidence in her family of nine rather nasty siblings, and step-siblings, and half-to-one-quarter siblings—but it sure came close!
Marty Williams, Guelph, Ontario, Canada

It seemed a cruel irony to Nigel when he realized, only in hindsight, how mistaken he had been to abandon his youthful ambition to become a technical writer and bend to his parents’ wishes that he go into proctology. Scott Wilson, Corvallis, OR

The 2019 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest

Posted in Library of Congress, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on September 3, 2019

The 2019 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest has arrived. Every year, BLFC presents examples of terrible writing. The Grand Prize winner was submitted by Maxwell Archer, Mt Pleasant, Ontario, Canada. Mr. Archer wins thoughts and prayers.

Space Fleet Commander Brad Brad sat in silence, surrounded by a slowly dissipating cloud of smoke, maintaining the same forlorn frown that had been fixed upon his face since he’d accidentally destroyed the phenomenon known as time, thirteen inches ago.

As a value added contribution to the festivities, chamblee54 compiles a list of noteworthy names. These were chosen because of their name/and or location. Appearing in order of appearance: Gwyneth Kozma, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany, Ron Pizarie, Bath, PA, Bridget Parmenter, Norman, OK, Jeremy Das, Loughborough, England, Arlen Feldman, Colorado Springs, CO, Cody Hanna, Lancaster, PA, Coby J. Scott, Hollywood, CA, Saraswathy Ashok, Trivandrum, India, Harrison Glaze, Acworth, GA, Rob Greer, Queen Creek, AZ, Amy Torchinsky, Chapel Hill, NC, Greg Homer, Diamond Springs, CA, Tzipporah Harker, Baltimore, MD, Kelley Farmer, Dripping Springs, TX, Riley Kwortnik, Ithaca, NY, Evaonne F. Hendricks, Arcata, CA, Jose Beltrán Escavy, The Hague, David Meech, Auckland, New Zealand, Jim Jones, Massillon, Ohio, Krista Epton, Edmonton, Alberta, Cass Lennox, Switzerland, Everett Roberts, Washington, DC, Krista Epton, Edmonton, Alberta.

The High Gondonderil gazed on with horror as the Elgaborian legions marched at a single, pitiless pace into the once peaceful streets of Sar-Andrada, the capital city of the kingdom of Xanthil, located in a fantasy universe which might seem extremely confusing at present but which will doubtless make perfect sense to you, dear reader, once you realize that, like most fantasy universes, it’s basically just Tolkien’s Middle-earth with different names for things. Harrison Glaze, Acworth, GA This is the only Georgia resident displayed in 2019.

Emile Zola wondered the dank and soggy streets of a gloomy Parisian night, the injustice of the Dreyfus affair weighing on him like a thousand baguettes, dreaming of some massage or therapy to relieve the tension and pain in his aching shoulders and back, and then suddenly he thought of his Italian friends and their newly invented warm water bath with air jets and he rapturously exclaimed that oft misquoted declaration — “Jacuzzi!” Robert R Moore, North Falmouth, MA

Three days without food or water, archeologist Phil Thompson with his leg hopelessly trapped in a wilderness rock-fall, and with hungry buzzards circling overhead, saw his entire life pass before him and he once again experienced, as a child, his mother’s comforting words and tender touch, as she gently awakened him from his recurring nightmare of being eaten by birds. Ron Pizarie, Bath, PA

Realising that his symptoms indicated a virtually undetectable, fast acting neurotoxin, CIA coroner Quinn Abner frantically wrote up the details, lay on the floor and, as a professional courtesy, did his best to draw a chalk outline of himself. Jeremy Das, Loughborough, England

As he pounded on the door, Billy ‘Four-Toes’ Capalone, wondered, not for the first time, if he wouldn’t have been better off in the joint, or even taking a concrete nap, but instead, he straightened his tie and gripped his bible, determined not to blow his cover in the Jehovah’s Witness Protection Program. Arlen Feldman, Colorado Springs, CO

Eyes bleary from yet another night of fruitlessly staking out the Ritz Motel in West Hollywood’s seedier quarter, hoping to get some usable dirt on Mrs. Hennigan’s wayward hubby Bill, Niles Cranworth, P.I., pushed the start button, cranked the wheel over, and pointed his well-traveled Chrysler 300 southward on La Cienega Boulevard (“La Cienega,” he noted with irony, being Spanish for “the cienega”). Andrew Lundberg, Los Angeles, CA

It was a Dark & Stormy Night; the rain fell in torrents outside the Breast Western—the country-themed strip club where the exotic dance duo of Stormy and Dark rattled the house (for it was a Tuesday), and fiercely agitated the lustful flames of the patrons who struggled in the darkness to rearrange their Wranglers. Coby J. Scott, Hollywood, CA

Stephen Douglas, that’s the “Little Giant” to you, had tried everything he could think of to stop Mr. Lincoln from arriving at their senatorial debates: giving him the wrong time and place, sleeping pills disguised as Republican muffins, kidnapping, and even some light arson but the man always turned up, like a bad penny. Rob Greer, Queen Creek, AZ

The snow scattered like fair parmesan from God’s own shaker, drifting down lightly to cling to our squirming spaghetti skin beneath robes of tomato puree, making no distinction between the whole wheat and white or tagliatelle and bucatini among us. Tzipporah Harker, Baltimore, MD

Despite being a German, vegan book-cataloger from rural and upscale Connecticut, Marion was quite ignorant and overly opinionated about almost everything, except for Atlas Shrugged and atheism, which made her the embodiment of an Arian, vegetarian, ultracrepidarian-contrarian, non-sectarian, libertarian, librarian agrarian from Darien. Eric Mellinger, New York, NY

The villa in Tuscany is abandoned now, and nature, in the form of invasive vegetation, is reclaiming the small vineyard where Rodolfo and Susannah made love each afternoon, beginning with the creeping Coccinia virginiana, followed by the woody Polemonium gloriosa, and ending, of course, with the drooping Glandularia vulgaris. John Hardi, Falls Church, VA

Part two will appear later. Pictures are from The Library of Congress.

How To Start A Fight

Posted in Library of Congress, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on September 1, 2019







One year, I decided to buy my mother-in-law a cemetery plot as a Christmas gift… The next year, I didn’t buy her a gift. When she asked me why, I replied, “Well, you still haven’t used the gift I bought you last year!”
My wife and I were watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire while we were in bed. I turned to her and said, ‘Do you want to have Sex?’ ‘No,’ she answered. I then said, ‘Is that your final answer?’ She didn’t even look at me this time, simply saying, ‘Yes..’ So I said, “Then I’d like to phone a friend.”

I took my wife to a restaurant. The waiter took my order first. “I’ll have the rump steak, rare, please.” “Aren’t you worried about the mad cow?” “Nah, she can order for herself.”
My wife sat down next to me as I was flipping channels. She asked, “What’s on TV?” I said, “Dust.”

My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary. She said, “I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 150 in about 3 seconds .” I bought her a bathroom scale.
My wife and I were sitting at a table at her high school reunion, and she kept staring at a drunken man swigging his drink as he sat alone at a nearby table. I asked her, “Do you know him?” “Yes”, she sighed, “He’s my old boyfriend…. I understand he took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago and I hear he hasn’t been sober since.” “My God!” I said, “Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?”

When our lawn mower broke and wouldn’t run, my wife kept hinting to me that I should get it fixed. But, somehow I always had something else to take care of first, the shed, the boat, making beer. It was always something more important to me. Finally she thought of a clever way to make her point. When I arrived home one day, I found her seated in the tall grass, busily snipping away with a tiny pair of sewing scissors. I watched silently for a short time and then went into the house… When I came out again I handed her a toothbrush. I said, “When you finish cutting the grass, you might as well sweep the driveway.” The doctors say I will walk again, but I will always have a limp.
Saturday morning I got up early, quietly dressed, made my lunch and slipped quietly into the garage. I hooked up the boat up to the van and proceeded to back out into a torrential downpour. The wind was blowing 50 mph, so I pulled back into the garage, turned on the radio and then I discovered that the weather would be bad all day. I went back into the house, quietly undressed and slipped back into bed.. I cuddled up to my wife’s back, now with a different anticipation and whispered, “The weather out there is terrible.” My loving wife of 5 years replied, “And, can you believe my stupid husband is out fishing in that?”

After retiring, I went to the Social Security office to apply for Social Security. The woman behind the counter asked me for my driver’s License to verify my age. I looked in my pockets and realized I had left my wallet at home. I told the woman that I was very sorry, but I would have to go home and come back later. The woman said, ‘Unbutton your shirt’. So I opened my shirt revealing my curly silver hair. She said, ‘That silver hair on your chest is proof enough for me’ and she processed my Social Security application. When I got home, I excitedly told my wife. She said, ‘You should have dropped your pants. You might have gotten disability, too.’
These human interest stories are borrowed from Expressing Myself. This is a repost, with pictures from The Library of Congress. “Halloween party at Shafter Camp for migrant agricultural workers. Shafter, California.” November 1938. Photographer: Dorothea Lange.










The Gift Of Cultural Appropriation

Posted in Library of Congress, Politics, Race, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 25, 2019









This is a repost from 2015. There is a tasteful video on the innertubes today, WTF is Cultural Appropriation. This is not about WTF Podcast. Hopefully Marc Maron will not wear his hair in dreadlocks. The video shows a black man, jumping around in front of the camera, sharing his ideas about cultural appropriation.

Perhaps we should summarize what ‏@the1janitor has to say. He does not give a shit what people do with their hair. (Does he gift wrap the shit when he does give it?) T1J is not concerned over whether Iggy Azalea sings rap songs. Most culture today is a mix of influences, and T1J is cool with that. This chill does not extend to a pro football team in Hyattsville MD, whose nickname rhymes with munchkins. T1J, aka Kevin Peterson, does not think that is appropriate.

T1J wears dreadlocks. Many Amerikans see this hairstyle as connected to the Rastafarians in Jamaica. T1J is not a rasta, but is not accused of any appropriative wrongdoing by wearing his hair in dreadlocks. It seems the reason for this acceptance is his African American origin.

This is similar to the situation with BHO. The half white POTUS was raised by white people in Hawaii and Indonesia. And yet, because he has dark skin, BHO is unquestioningly accepted as a black man. The POTUS uses the style of black culture that he learned as an adult. When a white fool shoots up a black church, BHO goes to a funeral, sings “Amazing Grace,” and is praised.

Many of these cultural and racial debates are very shallow. Judgements are made on outside appearances, rather than the real person under the skin. The dream of people not “judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character” has turned into a nightmare of petty wrangling over white privilege and cultural appropriation.

So much for content. What caught PG’s eye was the background. There is a Crimson Tide poster on the wall, behind the speaker, that seemed familiar. PG has seen T1J before, in a video titled Why I Disagree With Morgan Freeman. T1J says we need to talk about racism, then talk some more, and then talk more after that. The word listen is not used as often.

The University of Alabama football team poster is an ironic touch. NCAA football teams are highly exploitative of young people. The young men who play work long hours for their education. Many of the football players are rushed through school, taking easy classes so they will be eligible to play. Many of these young men will suffer crippling injuries playing a contact sport. Meanwhile, these football programs are hugely profitable for the institution, especially at a football factory like the University of Alabama. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. The men in the seven photographs below were members of The Tuskegee Airmen








Look At All That Money

Posted in Georgia History, Library of Congress, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 23, 2019

It started Wednesday. Steve put a note on facebook that he needed a ride, from midtown to south atlanta, sometime early afternoon thursday. It had a medical sound to it. PG had been feeling the need to do a good deed, and sent a reply. After various negotiations, PG agreed to meet Steve on Howell Mill Road at 8:30am. They go back to South Atlanta when it was all over.

Thursday started at 7:40. I-85 is crowded, as usual, but moving. After several folders on the thumb drive, PG settled on Aphex Twin. This has a science fiction feel… going down an eight lane freeway, jam packed with modern vehicles, past ghastly condo projects, before you get to the megabuck medical center. Judy Jetson is a recovery nurse.

The first sign of induction into the medical machine is getting a parking ticket. The instructions were to go to level p6 of parking. The signs were small and confusing. It took a bit of searching to find p6. By this time, Steve had called from the surgery center. He had forgotten PG’s last name.

You walk into the surgery center. Steve caught a much appreciated lyft. The driver has to stay in the building all day. They can only leave the surgery waiting room after Steve goes back to be prepped. This waiting room has a tv, with the sound cut up loud. On the tv, some lady entertainer is singing, and the audience shrieks. It is not pleasant to listen to.

After a while, Steve goes back into the machine. PG goes down to the lobby, and is directed to the cafe. $2.35 later, PG walks out with a cup of coffee. The downstairs lobby is a marvel. Big, QUIET, full of the latest in medical interior design. Generous funding is invested in this facility.

The only problem is the seating area. There are two chairs on either side of a column. A small table is in front of the column. Instead of being in the center, between the two chairs, the table is off to one side. This lack of balance disturbs PG.

Soon, PG is back in the noisy waiting room. He is ushered into a prep area. Steve is in a surgery costume, with blood pressure cuff, iv drip, and other medical paraphernalia strategically positioned. Every where you look, you see $tate-of-the-art nurse toys. PG is reminded of the time when he heard a man say, regarding a field of cattle, look at all that money.

The procedure is scheduled for 10:30. For some reason, PG is sitting by Steve this whole time. It should be noted that PG and Steve are somewhere in the spectrum between friend and acquaintance. While there is mutual enjoyment of company, the two are not terribly close. The recovery instructions that PG hears are promptly forgotten. The Piedmont buddy system does have its advantages. Once, at a competing facility, PG lay alone, prepped and glasses-less, for 45 minutes. The only advantage to that was the take-home socks that are part of the surgery outfit. Steve got some Dunwoody banana yellow socks, while PG got vibrant purple.

Steve goes back into the procedure portal, and PG goes downstairs to the quiet lobby. His book for today is Half Asleep in Frog Pajamas, read in fits and starts. The other people in the lobby are scrutinized. Places to go meditate are considered, but nothing has the perfect feng shui. Soon, a call from the facility comes. PG cannot get to his phone in time to answer. Since the surgery center is just one flight up, PG goes upstairs. All the call said was that everything was going well. PG decided to stay in the noisy waiting room, but not before getting the lady to cut down the sound on the tv. By now, it is The View, with Whoopi Goldberg going Whoo Pee Doo, in technicolor and dolby sound, to the horror of The View‘s blonde of the moment.

At 12:14, PG is ushered into the Physicians Consultation room. The PC room is a marvel. Seven feet wide, seven feet long, eight feet tall. Three chairs, a lamp, a table, a land line phone, and a tasteful framed print. Walls painted JAP beige, with not a trace of dirt to be seen. PG wishes he could have spent all his waiting time in here. At 12:37 the surgeon stuck his head in the door to say all was well. At 12:43, PG was forced to leave the PC, to make room for the next friend-of-a-procedure.

The next stop was the recovery resort, which looked very similar to the prep spa. PG sat in the chair. Small talk was made, and recovery instructions read. Eventually, it was time to get the vehicle, and drive to the patient pickup spot. PG got a couple of feet out the door, and decided to go back inside to use the restroom. Coming out of somewhere, a familiar face walked by. PG knew who it was, as did the familiar face. Somehow, when you see someone unexpectedly in a medical facility, you wonder what the story is. The two made nervous small talk for a minute, and hurried on.

PG and Steve got on the freeway, still full of vehicles. The drug store was on Boulevard. After that, the route went past the prison, and down into the ninth most dangerous neighborhood in America. The patient was dropped off, goodbyes were said, and PG got back on the interstate to go back to Brookhaven. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress.

Thursday Racial Polemic

Posted in Library of Congress, Quotes, Race, Undogegorized by chamblee54 on August 22, 2019





PG was spending a productive sunday morning. He created a map to the Living Walls grafitti festival. He was in a good mood. Even this link on facebook did not bring our slack blogger down.

Out of a masochistic sense of fairness, PG took a look at the link after he finished the map. “That’s Racist Against White People!” A Discussion on Power and Privilege is the usual headache producing polemic. Here is the third paragraph.

“These are White folks who are claiming that the Obamacare tax on tanning beds is “racist” against White people. These are White folks who are claiming that affirmative action is racist against them. These are the White folks who honestly believe they suffer more racism than people of Color.”

Lets take a look at those three links. In the first, Republican Congressman Ted Yoho complained to John Boehner about what is sometimes called the “Snooki tax”. The second link, about affirmative action, is linked to a feminist blog. The money quote “Ask any White person how they feel about Affirmative Action, and you’re almost guaranteed to hear that it is “racist against White people” and that it is “unfair” or “reverse discrimination” and that they oppose it.” This article is used as a source for the comment “These are White folks who are claiming that affirmative action is racist against them.” Is it prejudice to say “ask any white person”?

The last one, about PWOC thinking they suffer more discrimination than POC, is linked to an article in a British tabloid newspaper. Somebody did a study once, and that was one of the results. The study also showed “Blacks also perceived that racism against themselves had steeply declined from 9.7 in the 1950s to 6.1 in the 90s.”

One of the main points in the Everyday Feminism post was that the word racist is often misused. PG will not argue against that. The article was posted two days before a curious tweet by Chris Brown. “N**** done 6 months community service wit police and the DA racist ass crying to the judge that I didn’t do it. Fuck the SYSTEM! “

The entertainer, who is a POC, got in trouble for publicly beating up his girlfriend. He has had problems with his community service requirement. The amusing thing about this tweet is that the “DA racist ass” is a POC.

This is a repost. Very few things needed to be changed. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. These images are Union soldiers from the War Between the States. The primary justification for that gruesome conflict was the abolition of slavery.