Hippie Chick's blog: "Mary Mary"

Please take a minute to read this: A Story of Six Boys.. Each year I am hired to go to Washington , DC , with the eighth grade class from Chilton, WI . where I grew up, to videotape their trip. I greatly enjoy visiting our nation's capitol, and each year I take some special memories back with me. This fall's trip was especially memorable. On the last night of our trip, we stopped at the Iwo Jima memorial. This memorial is the largest bronze statue in the world and depicts one of the most famous photographs in history -- that of the six brave soldiers raising the American Flag at the top of a rocky hill on the island of Iwo Jima, Japan, during WW II. Over one hundred students and chaperones piled off the buses and headed towards the memorial. I noticed a solitary figure at the base of the statue, and as I got closer he asked, "Where are you guys from?" I told him that we were from Wisconsin . "Hey, I'm a cheese head, too! Come gather around, Cheese heads, and I will tell you a story." (James Bradley just happened to be in Washington , DC , to speak at the memorial the following day. He was there that night to say good night to his dad, who has since passed away. He was just about to leave when he saw the buses pull up. I videotaped him as he spoke to us, and received his permission to share what he said from my videotape. It is one thing to tour the incredible Monuments filled with history in Washington , D.C. , but it is quite another to get the kind of insight we received that night.) When all had gathered around, he reverently began to speak. (Here are his words that night.) "My name is James Bradley and I'm from Antigo, Wisconsin . My dad is on that statue, and I just wrote a book called "Flags of Our Fathers". It is the story of the six boys you see behind me. "Six boys raised the flag. The first guy putting the pole in the ground is Harlon Block. Harlon was an all-state football player. He enlisted in the Marine Corps with all the senior members of his football team. They were off to play another type of game. A game called "War." But it didn't turn out to be a game. Harlon, at the age of 21, died with his intestines in his hands. I don't say that to gross you out, I say that because there are generals who stand in front of this statue and talk about the glory of war. You guys need to know that most of the boys in Iwo Jima were 17, 18, and 19 years old. He pointed to the statue) "You see this next guy? That's Rene Gagnon from New Hampshire If you took Rene's helmet off at the moment this photo was taken and looked in the webbing of that helmet, you would find a photograph.. a photograph of his girlfriend. Rene put that in there for protection because he was scared. He was 18 years old. Boys won the battle of Iwo Jima . Boys. Not old men. "The next guy here, the third guy in this tableau, was Sergeant Mike Strank. Mike is my hero. He was the hero of all these guys. They called him the "old man" because he was so old. He was already 24. When Mike would motivate his boys in training camp, he didn't say, 'Let's go kill some Japanese' or 'Let's die for our country.' He knew he was talking to little boys. Instead he would say, 'You do what I say, and I'll get you home to your mothers.' "The last guy on this side of the statue is Ira Hayes, a Pima Indian from Arizona. Ira Hayes walked off Iwo Jima . He went into the White House with my dad. President Truman told him, 'You're a hero.' He told reporters, 'How can I feel like a hero when 250 of my buddies hit the island with me and only 27 of us walked off alive?' So you take your class at school, 250 of you spending a year together having fun, doing everything together. Then all 250 of you hit the beach, bu! t only 27 of your classmates walk off alive. That was Ira Hayes. He had images of horror in his mind. Ira Hayes died dead drunk, face down at theage of 32 .. ten years after this picture was taken. "The next guy, going around the statue, is Franklin Sousley from Hilltop, Kentucky. A fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. His best friend, who is now 70, told me, 'Yeah, you know, we took two cows up on the porch of the Hilltop General Store. Then we strung wire across the stairs so the cows couldn't get down. Then we fed them Epsom salts. Yes, he was a fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. Franklin died on Iwo Jima at the age of 19. When the telegram came to tell his mother that he was dead, it went to the Hilltop General Store. A barefoot boy ran that telegram up to his mother's farm. The neighbors could hear her scream all night and into the morning. The neighbors lived a quarter of a mile away. "The next guy, as we continue to go around the statue, is my dad, John Bradley from Antigo, Wisconsin , where I was raised. My dad lived until 1994, but he would never give interviews. When Walter Cronkite's producers, or the New York Times would call, we were trained as little kids to say, 'No, I'm sorry, sir, my dad's not here. He is in Canada fishing. No, there is no phone there, sir. No, we don't know when he is coming back.' My dad never fished or even went to Canada Usually, he was sitting there right at the table eating his Campbells soup. But we had to tell the press that he was out fishing. He didn't want to talk to the press. "You see, my dad didn't see himself as a hero. Everyone thinks theseguys are heroes, 'cause they are in a photo and on a monument. My dad knew better. He was a medic. John Bradley from Wisconsin was a caregiver. In Iwo Jima he probably held over 200 boys as they died And when boys died in Iwo ima , they writhed and screamed in pain. "When I was a little boy, my third grade teacher told me that my dad was a hero. When I went home and told my dad that, he looked at me and said, 'I want you always to remember that the heroes of Iwo Jima are the guys who did not come back. Did NOT come back.' "So that's the story about six nice young boys. Three died on Iwo Jima ,and three came back as national heroes. Overall, 7,000 boys died on Iwo Jima in the worst battle in the history of the Marine Corps. My voice is giving out, so I will end here. Thank you for your time." Suddenly, the monument wasn't just a big old piece of metal with a flag sticking out of the top. It came to life before our eyes with the heartfelt words of a son who did indeed have a father who was a hero. Maybe not a hero for the reasons most people would believe, but a hero nonetheless. Let us never forget from the Revolutionary War to the current War on Terrorism and all the wars in-between that sacrifice was made for our freedom. Remember to pray praises for this great country of ours and also pray for those still in murderous unrest around the world. STOP and thank God for being alive and being free at someone else's sacrifice. REMINDER: Everyday that you can wake up free, it's going to be a great day. You are free because some vet died to keep you free.

I remember reading a story once about a man who was exploring some caves by the seashore. In one of the caves he found a canvas bag with a bunch of hardened clay balls. It was like someone had rolled up some clay and left them out in the sun to bake. They didn't look like much, but they intrigued the man so he took the bag out of the cave with him. ?As he strolled along the beach, to pass the time, he would throw the clay balls one at a time out into the ocean as far as he could throw. ? He thought little about it until he dropped one of the balls and it cracked open on a rock. Inside was a beautiful, precious stone. Excited, the man started breaking open the remaining clay balls. Each contained a similar treasure. He found thousands of dollars worth of jewels in the 20 or so clay balls he had left, then it struck him. ? ????He had been on the beach a long time. He had thrown maybe 50 or 60 of the clay balls with their hidden treasure into the ocean waves. Instead of thousands of dollars in treasure, he could have had tens of thousands, but he just threw it all away. ? You know sometimes, it's like that with people. We look at someone, maybe even ourselves, and we see the external clay vessel. It doesn't look like much from the outside. It isn't always beautiful or sparkling, so we discount it; we see that person as less important than someone more beautiful or stylish or well known or wealthy. ? ????But we have not taken the time to find the treasure hidden inside that person by God. There is a treasure hidden in every one of us. The Bible says we are fearfully and wonderfully made. I don't think he means just our physical bodies. I think he means our spiritual selves, which are sometimes hidden from others by the *earthen vessel* ? ??But if you take the time to get to know that person, and if you ask the Father to show you that person the way He sees them, then the clay begins to peel away and the brilliant gem begins to shine forth. ? ????The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, nor the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when he discovers that someone else believes in him and is willing to trust him with his friendship.

Another year has passed And we're all a little older Last summer felt hotter And winter seems much colder I rack my brain for happy thoughts To put down on my pad But lots of things that come to mind that make me kind of sad ? There was a time not long ago When life was quite a blast Now I fully understand About "Living in the Past" We used to go to weddings Football games and lunches Now we go to funeral homes And after-funeral brunches. ? We used to have hangovers From parties that were gay Now we suffer body aches That sometmes lasts all day We used to go out dining And couldn't get our fill. Now we ask for doggie bags Come home and take a pill We used to often travel To places near and far Now we get sore bottoms From riding in the car ? We used to go out shopping For new clothing at the Mall But now we never bother... All the sizes are too small ? We used to go to nightclubs Dance and drink a little booze Now we stay at home at night And watch the evening news That, my friend is how life is And now my tale is told So, enjoy each day and live it up... Before you're too darned old! Goodnight now, it's 9:00 PM, way past my bedtime, mornings come so much ? earlier than they used to.

The other day a young person asked me how I felt about being old. I was taken aback, for I do not think of myself as old. Upon seeing my reaction, he was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question, and I would ponder it, and let him know. Growing Older, I decided, is a gift. I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body ... the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror, but I don't agonize over those things for long. I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avante garde on my patio. I am entitled to be messy, to be extravagant, to smell the flowers. I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 a.m, and then sleep until --??? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 50's & 60's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will. I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the bikini set. They, too, will get old. I know I am sometimes forgetful. But then again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. ? How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when a beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect. ??I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before their hair could turn silver. I can say "no" and mean it. I can say "yes" and mean it. As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself any- more. I've even earned the right to be wrong. So, to answer your question, I like being older. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day.... if I want.

This is a story of long ago, Of a man who owned little store. He said, "I was proud to have my name up over the door." It was some 2000 years ago, as I recall, Located in Jerusalem, across the street from Pilate's Hall, I thought I had everything anyone would need, And folks would come from miles around, regardless of their creed. I thought I had but one thing that I could not sell, And that was, over in a corner on a shelf, three old, rusty spike nails. Then one day a big Roman soldier came through the door, And as he walked up to me, it seemed that he shook the floor. I said, "Can I help you, Sir?," in a voice that I guess seemed frail, He looked at me with a sneering grin and said, "I want to buy some nails." "Three old rusty nails is all I have." "That' ll do, For the job I have, three are enough. Now, how much do I owe you.?" He place the money in my hand and I was glad to make the sale. But then I wondered and I asked him, "Sir, what can you do with just three nails?" "Did you ever hear of a man called Jesus of Nazareth?" "You mean the one that goes about only doing good?" "That's him. Today I intend to show the world who's boss, For with these three nails, I'll nail Jesus to the cross!" I stood there numb; you'll never know just how I felt. I said, "Please, Please, Sir, don't do that," as on my knees I fell. He just turned and walked away. I got up and followed him. A said, "Please, won't you let me buy them back?" He turned away with a grin. And soon in the distance I could see the howling mob, Trough tears that filled my eyes. "Away with him," "Crucify him," I could hear their angry cries. And over all that noise, in groans of agony, I could hear the sound of that old hammer, in the hand of that big Roman soldier, And he nailed my Jesus to the tree. Source Unknown

Subject: 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 fundraising 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! >>

Subject: Bill Gates (Good reading - Great advice) > > >Love him or hate him, he sure hits the nail on the head with this! To >anyone with kids of any age, here's some advice. > >Bill Gates recently gave a speech at a High School about 11 things they did >not and will not learn in school. He talks about how feel-good, politically >correct teachings created a generation of kids with no concept of reality >and how this concept set them up for failure in the real world. > > >Rule 1 : Life is not fair - get used to it! > >Rule 2 : The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will >expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself. > >Rule 3 : You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You >won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both. > >Rule 4 : If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss. > >Rule 5 : Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents >had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity. > >Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about >your mistakes, learn from them. > >Rule 7 : Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are >now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and >listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you >save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try >delousing the closet in your own room. > >Rule 8 : Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life >HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll >give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't >Bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life. > >Rule 9 : Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off >and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that >on your own time. > >Rule 10 : Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to >leave the coffee shop and go to jobs. > >Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one. > >If you can read this - Thank a teacher! >If you are reading it in English - Thank a soldier!

Subject: Fw: Denver News] -------------- > THINK ABOUT THIS FOR A MOMENT. > > Denver Post: > > This text is from a county emergency manager out > in the central part of Colorado after todays > snowstorm. > > WEATHER BULLETIN > > Up here, in the Northern Plains, we just recovered > from a Historic event--- may I even say a "Weather > Event" of "Biblical Proportions" --- with a historic > blizzard of up to 44" inches of snow and winds to 90 > MPH that broke trees in half, knocked down utility > poles, stranded hundreds of motorists in lethal snow > banks, closed ALL roads, isolated scores of > communities and cut power to 10's of thousands. > > FYI: > > George Bush did not come. > > FEMA did nothing. > > No one howled for the government. > < BR>> No one blamed the government. > > No one even uttered an expletive on TV . > > Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton did not visit. > > Our Mayor did not blame Bush or anyone else. > > Our Governor did not blame Bush or anyone else, > either. > > CNN, ABC, CBS, FOX or NBC did not visit - or > report on this category 5 snowstorm. Nobody > demanded $2,000 debit cards. > > No one asked for a FEMA Trailer House. > > No one looted. > > Nobody - I mean Nobody demanded the government do > something. > > Nobody expected the government to do anything, > either. > > No Larry King, No Bill O'Rielly, No Oprah, No > Chris Mathews and No Geraldo Rivera. > > No Shaun Penn, No Barbara Striesand, No Hollywood > types to be found. > > Nope, we just melted the snow for water. > > Sent out caravans of SUV's to pluck people out of > snow engulfed cars. > > The truck drivers pulled people out of snow banks > and didn't ask for a penny. > > Local restaurants made food and the police and > fire departments delivered it to the snowbound > families. > Families took in the stranded people - total > strangers. > > We fired up wood stoves, broke out coal oil > lanterns or Coleman lanterns. > > We put on extra layers of clothes because up here > it is "Work or Die". > > We did not wait for some affirmative action > government to get us out of a mess created by being > immobilized by a welfare program that trades votes > for 'sittin at home' checks. > > Even though a Category "5" blizzard of this scale > has never fallen this early, we know it can happen > and how to deal with it ourselves. > > "In my many travels, I have noticed that once one > gets north of about 48 degrees North Latitude, 90% > of the world's social problems evaporate." > > It does seem that way, at least to me. > > I hope this gets passed on. > > Maybe SOME people will get the message. The world > does Not owe you a living.

: Wednesday, June 28, 2006 12:37 PM Subject: God And St. Franics God's Thoughts on Lawns GOD: Francis; you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honeybees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles. St. FRANCIS; It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers "weeds" and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass. GOD: Grass? But, it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees; only grubs and sod worms. It's sensitive to temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there? ST. FRANCIS: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn. GOD: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy. ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it-sometimes twice a week. GOD: They cut it? Do they then bail it like hay? ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags. GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it? ST. FRANCIS: No, Sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away. GOD: Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away? ST. FRANCIS: Yes, Sir. GOD: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work. ST. FRANCIS: You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it. GOD: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn, they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It's a natural cycle of life. ST, FRANCIS: You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away. GOD: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose? ST. FRANCIS: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves. GOD: And where do they get this mulch? ST FRANCIS: They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch. GOD: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight? ST. CATHERINE: "Dumb and Dumber", Lord. It's a story about.... GOD: Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story DeleteReplyForwardSpamMove...

This is dedicated to > >Those Born 1930-1979! > > >TO ALL THE KIDS >WHO SURVIVED the >1930's 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's !! > > > > > > > > >First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they >were pregnant. >They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't >get tested for diabetes. > > > > > > > > >Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs >covered with bright colored lead-based paints. > > > > > > > > >We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when >we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention, the risks we took >hitchhiking. > > > > >As infants & children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, booster >seats, seat belts or air bags. Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm >day was always a special treat. > > >We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle. We shared one >soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from >this. > > > > > > > > >We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank koolade made with >sugar, but we weren't overweight because . > > > > > > > > >WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING! > > > > > > > > >We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were >back when the streetlights came on. > >No one was able to reach us all day. > >And we were O.K. > > >We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down >the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the >bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem. > > > > ! > > > > >We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, >no 150 channels on cable, no video movies or DVD's, no surround-sound, CD's >or Ipods, no cell phones!, no personal computers , no Internet or chat >rooms....... >WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them! > > > > > > > > >We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no >lawsuits from these accidents. > > > > > > > > >We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us >forever. > > > > > > > > >We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, > >made up games with sticks and tennis balls and, although we were told it >would happen, we did not put out very many eyes. > >We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang >the bell, or just walked in and talked to them! > > > > > > > > >Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't >had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!! > > > > > > > > >The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. > >They actually sided with the law! > > > > > > >These gene rations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem >solvers and inventors ever! > > > > > > > > >The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. > > > > > > > > >We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned > >HOW TO > >DEAL WITH IT ALL! > > > > > > > > >If YOU are one of them . . CONGRATULATIONS! > > > > > > > > >You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up >as >kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated so much of our lives >for our own good > > > > > > > > >And while you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how >brave (and lucky) their parents were. > > > > ! > > > > > > > > >Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't it?! > >The quote of the month is by Jay Leno: >"With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of > >control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country >from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist >attacks,"Are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of >Allegiance?" >