QueeNx1N ROYALTYx's blog: "QUEENIE'S THOUGHTS"

ATTRACTING PEOPLE TO YOU In West Virginia folklore there is a story of a country doctor who was called out to a holler late one night to assist a woman about to give birth. By the time the doctor arrived at the farmhouse, things had progressed to a point where the doctor asked the husband to help him by holding a gas lantern up high in order to illuminate the makeshift delivery room. Before long, the courageous mother delivered a healthy baby boy. As the father lowered the lantern, the doctor barked an order to keep the lantern aloft: "We're not done yet." Shortly, a second child appeared on the scene, a healthy baby girl. Shaken by the unexpected arrival of twins, the father heard the doctor say once again, "We can't stop now. It looks as if it's going to be triplets." To which the stunned father, still holding the lantern high, replied, "Do you think it's the light that's attracting them?" Light has a quality of attraction. I recently left my office door open late one afternoon in our mountain home and, at dusk, the light from within attracted -- a hummingbird! (Coaxing a hummingbird out of the house is a little like pushing a rope. Mostly, whatever you do doesn't work.) You, too, have a light that attracts...an inner light. Not visible to the naked eye, but apparent just the same. We speak of a "twinkle" in the eye or a "flicker" of warmth in the heart. Some people shine with a light of kindness. Others emit a light of hope. There are those who glow with enthusiasm and still others who radiate love. Almost all creatures are drawn to light, including humans. Do you want to attract people to you? Positive and life-affirming inner qualities can attract people like a warm fire on a cold night. What will draw other people to you best cannot be purchased in any department store. They will respond to that which radiates from within. You may not always see it, but your light is shining through. And it's one of your most attractive qualities!

Lessons Learned, Lessons Yet To Learn Read Each One Carefully and Think About It a Second or Two 1. I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you. 2. No man or woman is worth your tears, and the one who is, won't make you cry. 3 Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have. 4. A true friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches your heart. 5. The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside them knowing you can't have them. 6. Never frown, even when you are sad, because you never know who is falling in love with your smile. 7. To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world. 8. Don't waste your time on a man/woman, who isn't willing to waste their time on you. 9. Maybe God wants us to meet a few wrong people before meeting the right one, so that when we finally meet the person, we will know how to be grateful. 10. Don't cry because it is over, smile because it happened. 11. There's always going to be people that hurt you so what you have to do is keep on trusting and just be more careful about whom you trust next time around. 12. Make yourself a better person and know who you are before you try to know someone else and expect them to know you. 13. Don't try so hard, the best things come when you least expect them to! 14. REMEMBER: WHATEVER HAPPENS, HAPPENS FOR A REASON. 15 Love everyone as this is the last day on earth, because you never know when it will be.

LIFE IS MEANT TO BE LIVED Life is to be lived. No excuses. No reservations. No holding back. An enchanting story about violinist Fritz Kreisler tells how he once came across a beautiful instrument he wanted to acquire. When he finally raised the money for the violin, he returned to buy it and learned that it had already been sold to a collector. He went to the new owner's home in order to try to persuade him to sell the violin. But the collector said it was one of his prized possessions and he could not let it go. The disappointed Kreisler turned to leave, but then asked a favor. "May I play the instrument once more before it is consigned to silence?" Permission was granted and the great musician began to play. The violin sang out a quality of music so beautiful that the collector himself could only listen in wonderment. "I have no right to keep that to myself," he said after the musician finished. "The violin is yours, Mr. Kreisler. Take it into world, and let people hear it." William Arthur Ward said, "If you believe in prayer, pray; if you believe in serving, serve; if you believe in giving, give." For you and I are exquisite violins -- our music is meant to be heard. I want to live my life that way -- to take it into the world and live it fully. I'd rather burn out than rust out. I'd rather be used up than die not having done whatever I could...wherever I would. I'm not talking about wearing ourselves out on over-activity. Happiness is never found in excessive busyness. But it is found in investing our lives in others. Saying YES when asked for a hand. Volunteering some time for a worthwhile organization. Spending an hour with a lonely relative. In the end, I know that my happiness will not have been about by my ability or my inability. It will have been about my availability. My life is meant to be lived.

TWO CHOICES What would you do? you make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice? At a fund raising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: "When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?" The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, physically and mentally handicapped comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child." Then he told the following story: Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?" Shay's father knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but the father also understood that if his son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps. Shay's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, "We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning." Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. His Father watched with a small tear in his eye and warmth in his heart. The boys saw the father's joy at his son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, "Shay, run to first! Run to first!" Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball ... the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, "Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay" Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted,"Run to third! Shay, run to third!" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, "Shay, run home! Run home!" Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team. "That day", said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world". Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

The Mayonnaise Jar When things in your life seem Almost too much to handle, When 24 Hours a day is not enough, Remember the mayonnaise jar And 2 cups of coffee. A professor stood before his philosophy class And had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, He picked up a very large and Empty mayonnaise jar And proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students If the jar was full. They agreed that it was. The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked The students again If the jar was full, They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand And poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes." The professor then produced Two cups of coffee from under the table And poured the entire contents Into the jar, effectively Filling the Empty space between the sand. The students laughed. "Now," said the professor, As the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that This jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things- family, children, health, friends, and favorite passions- Things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter Like your job, house, and car. The sand is everything else- The small stuff. "If you put the sand into the jar first," He continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time And energy on the small stuff, You will never have room for the things that are Important to you. So- Pay attention to the things That is critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time To clean the house And fix the disposal. "Take care of the golf balls first- The things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand." One of the students raised her hand And inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled, "I'm glad you asked." It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, There's always room For a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

Happiness For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time to still be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So, treasure every moment that you have. And treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time and remember that time waits for no one, so stop waiting . . . until you finish school until you go back to school until you lose ten pounds until you gain ten pounds until you have kids until your kids leave the house until you start work until you retire until you get married until you get divorced until Friday night until Sunday morning until you get a new car or home until your car or home is paid off until spring until summer until fall until winter until you are off welfare until the first or fifteenth until your song comes on until you've had a drink until you've sobered up until you die until you are born again Decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. Written by Alfred D. Souza

The Wicker Chair By Eva Rosenberg During my senior year in college, I took a marketing class taught by a cantankerous old man. On the first day of class, he made some predictions. First, he said we would always remember his name. Visualize a jack-o'-lantern in the seat of a wicker chair - and you will always remember Jack Wickert. Second, he said most people would fare very badly in this class because he had no patience with students who don't do the assignments and follow instructions. Last, there would be no more than three As out of the forty students in the class. He made us sweat all semester. No doubt, we learned something about creative avenues for marketing products. He taunted and jeered at us and called us airheads. This was a night class. Everyone worked full-time. By 7:00 p.m., we were tired - imagine how we felt at 10:00 p.m. after being beaten up for three hours! Mr. Wickert scheduled the final exam for the second-to-last week of the semester. We would review the results on the last night of class. On the night of the final exam, Jack Wickert told the class there was only one question. Then he stunned us all by announcing, "This is an open exam. You may look through your books, your notes or anything that will help. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, you may leave the room, go to the library, telephone your friends. You may do any research you like. There are a few things you may not do. You may not talk to or disturb anyone else in the class. You may not share your findings. And finally, don't bother me. When you finish, put your results on my desk and leave." Then, Wickert proceeded to write the problem on the board: Develop a marketing plan for an electronic rattrap costing $150. (In 1977 dollars, that was the equivalent of one month's rent.) About half the class immediately got up and left. I looked over at one of my friends. He arched his eyebrow, shrugged and shook his head. What a horrible thing to have to market. Who's going to spend a whole week's salary on one rattrap? If you really had rats, you were likely to be living in a slum and certainly couldn't afford this princely cost. If you could afford it, you lived where there were no infestations. And our grade depended on solving this problem. I just sat there, staring at the blackboard. I knew there was a catch. What was the gimmick? Knowing Wickert, there was a trick to this. And the answer was easy. He just knew we'd be too dense to catch it. So, I sat there staring and thinking. Finally, I got it! The answer was clear. You couldn't sell it. Write the report, briefly explaining that this was not marketable, cut your losses, move on to something practical. So, I wrote it out on one page. I started packing up my things and looked up to catch Mr. Wickert looking at me with a smug, evil leer. I stopped. I sat back down. If I handed it to him, it would be irrevocable. And his look told me that he thought he had won. He had outsmarted me. I sat there looking at him. He wouldn't look at me again. Now, he was just sitting there smiling broadly, pretending to read. So, I was forced to reflect on the rats. The trap was so expensive - and big (we had the dimensions). Where would you even put this thing if you could afford to buy one? I contemplated the problem some more. And more. And more. Slowly, I started to think about large warehouses, factories . . . places you store things, like food, like perishables, like paper (picture rats gnawing), like boxes, grains . . . industrial facilities. Yes! Keep going. What else? Stores, supermarkets, restaurants. They could afford this. I was starting to get excited. Yes, they've got room to place this unwieldy device somewhere. Several places, in fact. But it could cut into the revenues of exterminators. Yes! Exterminators, what a great market. They could buy them and sell them to their customers. Heck, they could rent them and collect huge profits. And off I went. That night, I developed a twenty-page marketing plan. It was logical, reasonable and feasible. I was quite satisfied with my marketing plan. Just before 10:00 p.m., I dropped it on his desk. He was still looking smug, but what the heck. I had tried. Next Wednesday, he showed up in class with the results. He announced, "You met my lowest expectations. Most of you missed the whole point, and your grades reflect it. However, I am annoyed. I was forced to grant one more A than I had predicted." And he glared pointedly at me. "There were four this semester." He handed out the graded finals. The groans and grumbling were audible. However, I had gotten an A. Why did I sense he wasn't going to let me enjoy it? Wickert interrupted all the complaints. "I warned you at the beginning of class that you would not do the assignments or read the book. You took the lazy way out - and it cost you. If you had followed my instructions, this final would have been a slam dunk. Now that it's over, I can tell you. I took the case straight out of the textbook. Verbatim. I did not even bother to change the name on the case. I knew you wouldn't notice." You could hear the sound of pages rustling as we frantically searched the textbook and the index, looking for the case. Then, there was dead silence as we read it. Oddly enough, the case's marketing plan turned out to be very similar to my own. They thought up a few things that I hadn't and vice versa. "I was confident in you dunderheads. Only three people figured out what I had done during the final and took the information out of the book." (He had been watching us and knew who'd used the book. I hadn't even cracked mine. He was right.) "But one person did it the hard way and actually reasoned it out on her own. It would have saved her a lot of time if she had just done what I had asked." Yes, it would have saved me time - and embarrassment. But, I did figure it out myself, although I hadn't followed his directions. I had thought it through and come up with the correct answer. Could Wickert have been trying to goad us young students into thinking? Even to this day I wonder if Wickert was secretly proud of me, as well.

SPECIAL TIME by Kathleene S. Baker Admittedly, I pitched a bit of a fit when my dad informed me he was driving down to Texas from Kansas! He'd not made the journey by himself for two years. But, with his new knee and a few minor health problems under control, he was back in charge at the age of 88 and darned proud of his independence. "Dad, I'll just have a pow-wow with Jerry and Marland and see what they think about you driving. I'll let you know what we decide." "Well, you guys just pow-wow on! I'll call when I know what day I'm coming." That was it. Period! End of conversation. He hung up the phone. My husband, Jerry, and older brother, Marland, didn't like the idea much more than I did, but what do you do? Our pow-wow was a pitiful failure. Dad's driver's license had just been renewed, and he had a brand new reliable car. Short of hog-tying him, there was nothing to do but wait, wonder, and pray. We lost and Dad won another round. The phone call finally came. "I'll be coming on Wednesday or Thursday. I'm expecting a bill and want to get it paid before I leave." "Just let me know which day it is, so I'll know when to start worrying." I made it sound light-hearted, but I was dead serious. On the other hand, Dad thought it was hysterical and nearly broke my eardrum. The highlight of Dad's trip was a few days at The High Lonesome deer lease in Central Texas. He's hunted all sorts of game in numerous states, but he blind sided us when he announced his need to hunt down a wild hog. Again, what do you do? You hustle to make plans, and thank your lucky stars that an aging father is still able to enjoy life and tackle new adventures. After the excitement of the hunt, I was concerned that the rest of his visit might seem on tad on the tame side -- two solid weeks of being stuck in the big city! But, we wrestled a couple of jigsaw puzzles -- a great way to stay busy and visit at the same time. He told wonderful stories of his childhood as we stewed and fought over puzzle pieces, and I hung on to each word as if I might never hear them again. Dad delighted in the discovery of our new Western Channel, and I watched more westerns in two weeks than I had in my entire lifetime. After about a week he remarked, "I've seen some old movies I didn't even know existed, and I thought I'd seen them all. Most of them several times, in fact!" He shook his head at the revelation, and then tuned in for the next one about to air. We shopped for a new suit, found one, and he looked especially handsome as he modeled it. Driving away from the mall he announced, "This won't get much wear except to church, and the last time I wear it I won't ever have to change clothes again." It took me a minute to grasp what he was saying. "Oh, Dad! If I'd known we were looking for burial attire I wouldn't even have even taken you shopping." He simply laughed at me and his blue eyes danced with mischief. I let some things slide around the house in order to savor every moment of our time together. Evidently Dad noticed! The day I ran a few crucial errands, he cleaned all the tile floors while I was gone. I was humiliated! Within the hour, one of the dogs deposited a piece of dead grass on "his" sparkling floor and he spied it in a flash. "How the heck did I miss that?" he questioned with a frustrated scowl. All too soon it was time for our visit to end. Dad's car was packed, hog meat and all, and he was heading home. "I love you, Dad. I hope you weren't bored. I don't feel like we did anything very special while you were here. At least nothing that compared with your hunting trip." Dad held on tight and stroked my back as we said goodbye. The past few years we both seem to hang on a little bit longer each time we part. Dad squeezed me a little tighter and his voice cracked, "Every single minute we were together was special." I pulled back slightly to see tears in his eyes and his chin quivering. It's a sight seldom seen from a man that still envisions himself as John Wayne. "You're right. Nothing is more special than our time together." I was batting back tears hoping he wouldn't spot them. Feeling the need to lighten things up, I jokingly said, "You call as soon as you get home so I'll know when I can stop worrying!" "Yeah, yeah! You need to quit all that worrying. Don't you know it'll make an old woman out of you." With that, he climbed in the car, waved, and drove away just as the sun made a spectacular appearance. It made for a perfect, sunny finale to our "special time" together.

What Is An American? Being an American is not evident by a particular skin color or way of life. He is a person from many places, with many shades of skin, of different sizes and varied energies. He has a Master's Degree, or he may never have finished high school. He may drive an expensive automobile, or perhaps relies on two mules to carve his living out of the earth. But regardless of what he is, beneath the different physical features is a bond of strength in tradition which exemplifies the American way; a way which opens doors of opportunity to all peoples who may knock upon them. An American has a spirit which was born when the bells tolled of independence, and which has released the adrenaline of his nation time and time again when its existence was threatened by an aggressor. An American does not view armed conflict as a means of getting what he wants, but rather as a means of protecting what he has. He is the one who loves the very concept of peace for all nations, but will not hesitate to fight on the shores of others to protect his own. An American sees the knowledge of experience in his past, feels pride in the accomplishments of the present, and has hope for the future of the world, even when others would view the days to come with dismay. But a realistic American finds no guarantee of freedom or security in the future solely because he has always had it in the past. An American recognizes the faults of his system and seeks to correct them through a process unknown to many nations. A process which does not promise absolute perfection, but one which allows for peaceful change, if change is needed. That process is democracy, and an American holds that word so dear, that he stands ready at a moments notice to lay down his life for its perpetuation! An American finds nothing at all unusual about getting cold chills when his flag passes in review, for his flag has always been a source of inspiration; when the smoke cleared over Fort McHenry, when its sheen was reflected on the sand of Iwo Jima, and when the colors glistened on the side of the craft which took the first man to the moon. An American sees nothing strange about getting a lump in his throat when the National Anthem is played, or weeping unashamed when taps is played for one who paid the ultimate price for his freedom. He realizes that the only thing that exceeds that price is the freedom itself. An American never forgets the indebtedness he has because of that sacrifice, for without it, his freedom would only be an unreachable concept in some philosopher's mind. A true American is the essence of pride in a way of life. What is an American, you say? He is blessed! He is free! And with great pride I say..."It is me! I am an American!"

The Old Soldier Speaks By Bill Walker Remember Me? I am the one that won you your freedom. I have been in the fore front of your battles to keep your freedom. I have lived a very rough life. Sometimes I have fought in mud, in snow, in rain, in hot dry places. Sand blowing in my face. I have been left to do the best I can against a foe that out numbers me ten to one. Some times 50 to me, myself and I. But we will talk about some of these cases as we go along here. Us old soldiers hear that some of you young people from time to time need a refresher class in American History. So us old soldiers are going to do the best we can, about telling our story. Remember me? I was at Bunker Hill. I was at a few other places along the way. One was that winter at Valley Forge. I was the one without shoes, without much in the way of food. Without a warm bed, without that stuff called money. But with a gun that maybe would get off a shot about ever minute if my cold hands could load fast enough. We in the end won you the thing called freedom. Freedom to move about. Stand on the street corner and talk about the crooks you voted into office. We lost a lot of battles along the way. After all we had so little to do with. The mother country had everything, they even could buy troops from other countries to come over here and do their dirty work for them. But we whipped them enough that they went home with their tails between their legs. We sure had our day when Corn what’s his name gave it up at Yorktown. Now I got to turn this over to my son. He can tell you about his war. You know freedom every once in a while someone has to fight to keep that. Freedom to vote, freedom to go to the church you happen to like, freedom to gripe about the people you have in public office. The ones who said if elected they would put a chicken in every pot. The trouble is they forgot to tell you there are no pots today. Well the camp fire is calling. I hear Gen. Washington says congress got us some fat back bacon for the bean soup. Remember me? I bet not. I fought a war called the Quasi War. John Adams was setting in the Presidents House [more on this later] Seem like that the French wanted to tie into us a bit. They got a fight going on the high seas, and a few other places. Any ways we whipped them into shape. We by now had a ship, name of Constellation. It defeated the French ship, L'Isuregent said to be a fast ship. Then it got the LaVenyeneince. Whatever the name is. We waxed them both. The Frenchies soon learned we were no push over. So that war didn't last too long. But once again it was the American service people who kept your freedom. Remember me? Well there were some people called the Pirates of the Barbary Coast. Well that they were. They has some ships that raided shipping along their neck of the woods. Even the British paid to go near their snake hole. Not us. We got our fill of it and President Jefferson sent the American Navy, with the Marines to clean out those rats. It lasted about 4 years. Just some more of the American Service people keeping your freedom to move about. Remember me? I had to go fight the English one more time to keep your freedom. Seems like a few years back about 1806 them people was attacking our ships on the high seas. They would take men off and press them into serving their king. Well at last we got a bit upset with that and some of their other nutty deals. So one more time the American Service People is in the fore front. Now please note I said Service People. By this time we had a small army, a small navy, and those wonderful marines came into being somewhere along the way. Now our navy, lets talk about those few great names that came into being. We have the Ships. The United States. The Wasp. The Hornet. The Enterprise. The President. And the Constitution, [Old IRON SIDES.] She was such a great ship, she is still in service.. They were few, but boy let me tell you they were great ships. They fought them English out numbered some times 2, 3 and more at a time. And they whipped them English ships. We put many a ship down. Now go back and look at some of those names. There will be later wars and those proud names will be back. I will leave that for my great grand son, or is it my great, great grand son to tell about? Oh you figure it out. Well toward the end them darn British burned the White House. Now for all you young whippersnapers. The White House wasn't called the White House till after that time. You see it was the Presidents House or something like that. But after that it got some white paint to try to cover the burn job. Old Madson, was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. Lucky his wife Dolly had a brain. [think it was spelled Dolly] Well any ways she saved some of the stuff and beat it down the road ahead of those fire bugs. Any ways the Brits wasn't doing to good, so they got their selves someone to talk a end to the war. Any ways we won the Second war of Independence. So you can set at home and enjoy this thing called freedom. Remember Me? Well it seems like a bunch of our people went down to a place we call Texas. They more or less were stomping on land that Mexico claimed. We would hear about the problems coming from there. But any ways after a bit that part came to be called Texas. Now it gets kind of a mess here. The Mexican people got a fuss going with these new people. Or was it the other way around? Any ways in the end here comes the good old American Service People again. Now it is time to pull up some names. We will talk about them later. Their was a fellow by the name of Scott. Better known to us Service People as old Fuss &Feathers. He was the general. There was a fellow by the name of Lee, Hill, Grant, and a lot more. Now Scott got into a battle with the Mexican army at a place. Was not getting anywhere. So he spotted a young man by the name of R.E. Lee, a captain. He told Lee to see what you can do. Well Lee did a bit of scouting about, and the battle was over real quick. Just real quick. The thing is we won a lot of land to make more states. We ended up at the Mexico City. They were only to glad to call it quits. More of this thing called freedom. Won by the American Service people. Remember me? Well I am the one that fought the many battles with those real native Americans. The Indians. Now folks you should know these were bloody, and messy. Both for the white man and the Indians. These were never really ending battles. There was also a fellow who was making trouble name of John Brown. Seems like he was making a fuss over this thing called slavery. Now to some he was a wonderful fellow. To others well he just a crook. Any ways he came to Washington. He and a few men took a few people and held them in a old building. A man that was named before happened to be in town. By now he was known as Col. Lee. He got a call to do something. He rounded up a Lt. A.P. Hill and his unit of Marines. When the dust cleared. Mr. Brown was given a trial, and a trip to a rope. This isn't the end of the troubles. Maybe it is just a good warm up to the next war. But all this has a bearing on things to come. Another call for the Service People. For your freedom Remember me? Well I may wear Blue, I may wear Gray. Just depends on what your thinking is. Let me say this. I fought in whatever color for not only what I thought was right, but in some cases for my little home, my farm, my family. I may have not cared one way or other about what some people says the war was about. It makes no difference. It ended up making the United States of America. We became the great nation that is here today by that war. Now that aside. It was a bloody war, it was a mean war, it was a nasty war. A man could find his self fighting, his son, his brother, his father or other family members. Each with the belief they were right. I as a soldier of that war. Seen each calling on the Heavenly Father for help in doing what was right. I think the Heavenly Father had a hard time with the requests. As it seems to me people on both sides were God fearing people. But the Service People on both sides of this case were called on. Remember this. They were Americans. Men in Blue. Men in Gray. They were Americans ALL. And yes something called freedom got stronger. Oh I just got to get this in. You know the only woman in the history of the United States to win the Congressional Medal of Honor came out of that war. Had a real lovely name. Mary Walker. Remember me? I was on the Maine when she blown up in Havana Harbor., I was with Teddy on the charge. I was with Dewey when he sank the Spanish ships at Manila. We grew to be a power to be taken note of. We also got a few headaches out of it. Now people say one thing, may mean something else. Also people hear what they want to hear. The other words they can't hear. But that is what us old Solders figure they keep us around for. Seems like the Filipinos figured with all the double talk they were going to have at last self government. Well here we go again. Good old American Service People has to go get in the mess that the political hacks screwed up. We end up with 70,000 of us guys over there. Fighting against people that want some freedom. Funny isn't it? Remember me? I was one of the Marines that went to Korea. Yes we have been to that place twice. Seems like they didn't care about buying and selling. So we got the call to go open up the ports. Another fine mess the political hacks get us into. But you people seemed to elect them. Remember me? The world is at war. The war to end all wars. Boy is that some kind of joke. Here I am once again, a old soldier, setting or standing in most cases with water up to the butt. In a trench. No hot food, no roof over my head. Fear at any minute of a gas attack, shot and shells landing nearby. A machine gun raking my sand bags. You know we came over here a million strong. Our dear friends the French and Brits figured they would use us for canon fodder. You know put some of our troops in with theirs. Scream out charge and away we go while they have another cup of tea or wine. Well that didn't work. Thinks to that fellow from Missouri. Later known as General of The ARMIES. Black Jack Pershing. He told them to go to hell. He would not allow that to happen. We came over there to clean up the mess they started. We are Americans, we stick together. Well we went to hell and back a time or two. Maybe a few times, just depends on what you call hell. We had one American hero. A good old southern boy, name of York. Why he went hunting one day. He rounded up so many loose German soldiers. No one knew hardly what to do with them all. For a while they thought one of them was the Kaiser himself. Well the war ended on the 11th day, the 11th minute of the 11th hour, of the 11th mouth of 1918. We had saved your freedom one more time. Remember me? Dec, 7th 1941. Pearl Harbor. A Sunday morning. The Battleship. U.S.S. Arizona. Come visit my battle station. I still am there, manning it. The navy says we are not on duty yet. What do they know? Some of us lived to fight another day. I was on the Battleship U.S.S. Missouri 2nd day of Sept 1945. I seen the papers signed ending that war. Between those two dates, many a American Service Person went to hell and back. Pure hell. If you don't think so ask one who served those years. This was another war to end all wars. Ha. But we held on to your freedom for you. Oh remember Great, Great, Grandfather, saying something about the names of those war ships. Well we had the Hornet, the Wasp, the Enterprise. Three great air craft carriers. You can stop and see my two Battleships when you come to Pearl. The Battleship Missouri standing guard near her sister ship. Remember me? Pork Chop Ridge. The charge of wave after wave of Korean and their friends. The few against so many. Out numbered a hundred to one. The cold nights. No hot food for days on end. Down to your last clip of ammo. Yes we too have been to hell and back. Remember me? I waded the paddies too. In a place called Vietnam. Snakes, rats, bugs of all sorts. Friend and foe, who could tell them apart? The little old man, the little old woman, yes even the child may take a shot at you. Your next step may be a trap. Your leg blown off. Yes I too have been to hell and back. Remember me? Desert storm, Lebanon, Dominican Republic, the Cole, the Marines killed here, there, the mess in the oil rich countries. All hell and back. Pure and simple. Well we could go on in deeper detail. Our bottom line is this. Remember Me? We fought your wars, your battles, for what? To give you rights. Freedom to think, to do things, to go VOTE. We bled and died in many place around this earth for you to do so. Now It makes us mad to think we gave all. And that old boy setting by the camp fire, eating his few beans with a smell of fat back bacon. You know great, great, great, oh the heck with it it you figure it out. He mad as hell. When he hears that you don't have the time or it too cold ,or too wet, or it is just a good day to go play golf instead of going to vote.