I remember well the first time that I saw it. It was a wooden boat that appeared to have been dropped in the side yard. Its timbers were rotted and vestiges of several coats of paint crumbling onto the sparse grass.
The tall, lean man walked round and round the vessel, with a look of admiration. With touches that were more like caresses, he examined the craft from bow to stern with a practiced eye for detail. It seemed not to bother him that the transom was missing and a series of rotted holes were evident. He appeared completely satisfied with his acquisition.
Now, you all know me. I have never been accused of keeping my mouth shut when silence would be an attribute so I casually sauntered into the yard and greeted my neighbor;
“Hidey-ho good neighbor,” I said, “I am sincerely sad to be the bearer of bad news, but that vessel will never float. Shall I notify the Coast Guard now or wait until you attempt to go fishing in that tub?” The man merely smiled and continued with his examination of the boat.
Several weeks later, I had almost forgotten the encounter when I noticed that the boat was no longer visible from my back window. I thought, “He has finally come to his senses and disposed of that piece of junk.”
Wishing to congratulate him on his rational decision, I ventured down the driveway that led to his front door when I spied the hulk. In the corner of his front yard sat the newly painted boat, with gleaming letters on the gunwale “U.S.S. NEVERSAIL,” anchored in the sandy loam of southwest Brunswick County, N.C. Tons of white sand had been spread around the vessel and dotted with sea shell’s. Figurines of sea gulls and pelicans stood guard on pilings around the, once again, proud vessel.
Like the current owner, the boat now had deep roots implanted in the sandy soil of The resort village of Sunset Beach, N. C. Although born and reared in the state of New York, the man had selected the southernmost region of North Carolina for his retirement home. By his act of resurrecting the boat and creating an embellishment of the seashore, he was proving to his friends and neighbors that……
“Them thare Yankees ain’t ALL bad.”
Demijon
This expose` should be enough to prove that “Bill weren’t Crazy!!” Dj.
January 31st, 2010
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I need help, BAD! For most of my young life, I have been in a quandary about the question of “Who is THEY?”
It is seldom that I talk to anyone when, somewhere during the conversation, the words; “They say that,” becomes the topic. It is here that I become completely lost simply due to the fact that I have never met THEY. It is usually not in reference to any one person, whether living or dead, but rather a conglomeration of individuals, all with the same thoughts. These thoughts always emphasize the theme of which the speaker is expounding.
To someone such as myself who believes that wrestling on Television is real and that Batman is a real person, this can do much to put us over the edge. We desperately need more explanation than merely; “they say.”
For instance; let us suppose we are discussing the topical subject of Health-Care Reform legislation . We have just gotten into the meat of the discussion when some idiot proclaims. “They say that it will never pass.” WHO said this? Was it the President, the Vice President, the entire Senate, or the full membership of The Sons of Rest Club?
It is fairly obvious that I cannot speak intelligently on the subject unless someone clarifies who uttered this profound statement. Perhaps it is evident that my I.Q. is below the national average and it is felt that further explanation would only clutter my already weak mind. Whatever the reason, most folks do a darned good job of keeping me in the dark.
Since I am unwilling to divulge my inferior knowledge on these topics, I simply agree with them and hope that they are none the wiser. However; it is conceivable that someday, someone will make a slip of the tongue and reveal the identity of THEY.
If and when this happens; watch out! I will probably jump right in the middle of every conversation and it may be impossible to shut me up.
By the way: “THEY SAY that I am a prime candidate for the Pulitzer Prize in Literature. Whoever THEY are, their choice for this honor demonstrates that THEY are smarter than the ones who are constantly insisting that; They Say!”
It takes so little to make some of us happy.
Demijon
“THEY SAY, a ring around the moon is a sure sign of impending wet weather.” Dj.
January 29th, 2010
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Believe it or not, I have actually been asked, (after reading some of the junk that I write); “If there was a hint of truth in it;” or, “was there any malice intended?”
My question in response is always, “Whadaya mean; do you think that anyone in their right mind would go to the trouble of writing drivel like this?” “Get real!”
Honestly, there have been people who took literally some parts of my musings, and perhaps have become hurt or even insulted. This is not the intention of my writing. My purpose is to inject a bit of humor into what would normally be a dull, uneventful subject. Judging from some of the response I have received, I have failed miserably on more than one occasion.
Please allow me to say here that I have one iron clad rule. I do NOT poke fun at anyone whom I do not like. However, at all times, I do strive to keep most of my stuff in good taste. Hopefully, it would be decent enough to share with your friends.
Regardless of how serious we try to be, there are events in all of our lives that can appear funny when twisted a bit or added to in some manner.
These occasions are the ones which we jump on, like a dog on a bone. Someone once said, “Someday, we’ll look back on this and laugh.” Why wait? Let’s laugh about it today.
Another necessity for one who attempts tongue in cheek writing is the capability of laughing at oneself. It is essential to assure the reader that you will accept good-natured criticism as well. You must prove that you can take it as well as dish it out. Failure in this aspect and your work will surely bomb out.
I do not believe that God meant for us to never enjoy any portion of our lives or to forever remain pious and somber throughout our brief existence. Certainly, there are times when humor and tongue in cheek banter are inappropriate and should be avoided; but there are also times when breaking the ice with a humorous remark can relieve tension and create a more relaxed atmosphere.
Science has proven that it requires less effort to smile than to frown. Given this proof, should we not at least, in the case of tongue-in-cheek writing, adopt an attitude that less is better?
None of us are perfect and each have instances that could possibly be interpreted as funny. By building on these foundations, we will be better equipped to cope with the serious side of our lives.
Try it. What have you got to lose except tell-tale wrinkles that come from frowning constantly? Think of the money you could save by not being required to purchase all of those creams and lotions.
Demijon
Laugh and the world laughs with you; Cry and your mascara will run all over your face. Dj.
January 28th, 2010
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All of my life, I have heard the expression that someone is working like a dog. My personal experience with dogs has been that we all should have it so easy. We owned a poodle for about fifteen years. Permit me to phrase this correctly. The poodle owned us for about fifteen years. He demanded and got all of our attention and any food that his heart desired. He knew that all he had to do was to sit and stare at us with soulful eyes and he was home free.
Our children were quick to remark that “Pete” got better treatment and more attention than did they. Why not? Wasn’t he the youngest member of the family? He lived his life in total contentment until old age finally caught up with him. Rare were the times that he was left anywhere other than his domain for an extended period of time. If we couldn’t take him on a trip, we didn’t go. It was that simple.
Occasionally he would be treated with dog food, but usually his diet consisted of whatever we were eating. He was not a finicky eater and relished anything that we ate except celery. That, he refused.
When we had to leave him alone, he would ply his ability at acting; Cowering in a corner with a look on his face that said, “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.” Since I was not as taken with his tactics as my wife, he usually appealed to her. When one of us left alone, he would sit and stare at the door until our return.
He was jealous to the point that neither Sue nor I could touch the other without his raising the roof with his barking. If we had visitors that included a small baby, Sue risked the wrath of “Pete” if she tried to hold the little one.
Now, let’s get back to the working. The only work that he had to do in fifteen years was to bark when he wanted to go outside, when he wanted to be fed and when someone or something else was getting the attention that he was sure was his right. The mention of the word go, would immediately bring him out of the deepest sleep.
While we had him, we did a lot of traveling to and from the beach. Since this was around a four hour trip, we usually took a break about half way and would have a cone of ice cream. Of course, we had to get a cup for “Pete” as he could not quite manage a cone. After several of these stops, when we approached within five miles of the shop, “Pete” would begin “working.” Moving to a spot between Sue and me, he would begin crying and sometimes you could spot tears in those black eyes. He was a professional, no less.
When he died, we got out of the dog business, but it was years before Sue could pass a poodle without petting it and would have gladly adopted it if given the chance. She had forgotten that we had to “work like a dog” in order to take care of the dog.
If the day ever comes that I am required to work like a dog, I certainly hope that I will be given the chance to work as hard as old “Pete.“
If anyone or anything ever had it made, he did.
Then; “along came Bear;” but that’s another story.
Demijon
Zero degrees today: – If predictions are; “Twice as cold tomorrow:” – “How cold will it be???” Dj.
January 17th, 2010
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Who among us has ever been bold enough to blatantly rip the tag from a pillow or a piece of furniture as soon as we bring them into the home? The wrinkled, yellowed labels bearing a description of the contents are still rigidly attached long after the covers have become powerless to contain the stuffing.
Why? Simply because these are the rules and most of us are adamant in our respect for the guidelines noted by the manufacturers. Although we assume that the purpose for these labels is directed toward the outlets from which we purchased them, we nevertheless are not certain that they do not include us; therefore, they remain an unsightly addition to our decor.
Several years ago an event happened to me for which I am just as resolute in my determination that the resulting observance be forever retained in a position of prominence in my home. The event was the presentation of an award for a labor of love.
It is seldom when a father has the opportunity to work side by side with a son while performing a task that both take immense pleasure in doing. Apparently the son inherited some of the qualities that produce enjoyment from Bo-jacking, (the art of creating something worthwhile with limited funds and/or materials).
This phenomenon began during a visit with my son (a minister) when I was asked to assist with the construction of a make-shift stable for their Christmas extravaganza that included a living nativity portrayal. Pride in our ingenuity for turning scraps into a (work of art?), was sufficient compensation for father as well as son.
It was custom with their church to hold an annual banquet for the recognition of notable contributions made by the youth of the church during the year, and my wife and I were invited to attend this ceremony.
I am certain that my surprise was evident when during the course of the evening; I was presented a beautiful plaque denoting my small contribution to what I am sure was an inspiring production by the members of Q.U.E.S.T., (the title of their youth group).
This award will continually be among my most prized possessions and will be prominently displayed as an expression of my gratitude for being allowed to utilize the few abilities that I possess in a most enjoyable manner.
Not unlike the labels found on certain types of furniture, there are posted rules for this award and they are much the same, i.e. …
“DO NOT REMOVE UNDER PENALTY OF INCURRING THE WRATH OF THE RECIPIENT WHICH COULD JUST POSSIBLY BE MORE SEVERE THAN THE PENALTIES PROVIDED BY LAW.”
In order to stress my point, I am seriously considering erecting a sign at my residence which states simply: FORGET THE DOG, BEWARE OF OWNER!
Demijon
One nice thing about “Egotists” is that they don’t talk about other people.
Dj.
January 16th, 2010
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One of the definitions of the word dumb is stupid or moronic, lacking some normal part or character, according to Mr. Webster. This causes me to wonder if the man had some insight into the inner workings of the Congress. They certainly seem to be missing some parts that many of us would consider normal, based on a few of the decisions that they are hawking as the answer to the deficit problem.
First of all, is the fact that it was they, themselves, who got us into this mess to begin with. No average Joe Citizen would ever authorize an expenditure of some $146 for a simple 39 cent screw even if his brother-in-law DOES, in fact, own the screw factory. Jane Ordinary would flat-out refuse to take a junket, at the expense of the taxpayers, to the wilds of Lower Slobovia for the express purpose of doing a study on the mating call of the June bug. In reality, we would probably be surprised at some of the things for which our tax dollars have paid that have benefited only the members of this governmental body.
This is dumb.
Although Mr. Webster offers no definition of the word dumber, I contend that it falls in the category of moronic and/or stupid. Proof of this is contained in the Congress’ recommendation on how to pay for these extravaganzas. “Reduce Social Security benefits; Raise taxes; Cut Medicare; Delete deductions on tax returns; Bleed every cent we can get from the ones who are so poor that they will never miss it since they have never had it; but whatever we do, we cannot touch the income from the rich and famous. If we do, there will be no vast amounts of money to finance our next campaign.” Dumber still, is the rhetoric that they feed us as an excuse. “We have a contract with America,” they say. In my humble opinion, it is more likely that they have put a contract out on us.
I agree that the deficit must be reduced and the budget balanced, but let’s start at the beginning with the responsible ones making the first payments. I cannot believe that a Senator with a $100,000.00 plus annual income will suffer as much as a person whose total income is a Social Security check that barely covers the rent. These are the ones who cannot even afford the 39 cent screw; and yet, the contract states that they will be the first to fall before the big guns.
Getting into this mess was dumb. Their proposal to get out of it is, if possible, even dumber.
Demijon
Question! “Which side IS our bread really buttered on?”
January 15th, 2010
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Discrimination takes on many forms. The first forms that we think of are sex and ethnic. There are more subtle forms that in many cases can be downright insulting. For instance, you walk into a fast food restaurant and they give you the senior discount even though you did not request it.
Then there are the times you are asked to relate (firsthand) stories about the great depression, and you have not mentioned that you remember. These things happen more often than we care to remember. How many times have you noticed a secretary saying into the phone, “I have an elderly gentleman here….” She simply assumed that I was old.
How many times have you been invited to join AARP merely because you “looked as if you could qualify.” I can appreciate the discounts that are offered to those of us that DO qualify, but it would be nice to have to ask for them.
My barber said to me just the other day, “I’ve done as much as I can to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.” Does he tell that to all of his customers or just the ones of us with prematurely gray hair. Why can’t he make me into a sex object?
Does everyone receive ads for products such as Depends, motorized stair climbers and power scooters, or are these ads limited to just the ones of us that remember “The Model T.”
And what about the descriptions for, full figured, husky, and stout? Is this someone’s nice way of saying fat? Sure, our waistline is not what it used to be, but doesn’t that simply mean that we have been well-fed? Nobody ever mentions that a sweater will fit all of you skinny people or the short and chubby folks.
Then there are the ones of us that look so bad that our parents had to borrow one of the neighbor’s kids to carry to church. Being homely does not necessarily mean that a person is altogether bad. If we would take the time to look under the skin, it might surprise us as to what we would find.
Some of our most famous people were so homely that the only way the hogs would play with them was to tie an ear of corn around their neck. However, they overcame this minor setback and became a terrific person. If they could do it and go on to fame and fortune, so can we; and, just maybe, we can achieve a little of that greatness ourselves.
The moral is: If we judge a person by their looks alone, we will miss all of the more important parts.
Demijon
Our investments in Health Insurance is finally Paying Off. Dj.
January 15th, 2010
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As most of you already know, I am a serious minded person who can become unraveled by many of the inequities of today’s society. Things really get next to me. In fact, I can go off the deep end at anytime when I observe the blatant disregard of facts for which the medium of Television is famous. The following is but a few of the items that cause me undue stress.
Is the clock that appears at the beginning of 60 Minutes electric or battery powered? If neither, does a stage hand wind and set it before the program begins?
Do the producers of The Price is Right deliver all the major merchandise to the homes of the winners? Do they charge S & H?
Also, are the parting gifts small enough for the contestant to carry in their pocket or purse?
Has any one of you ever seen Andy Griffith or Don Knotts receive a paycheck from the Town of Mayberry? If so, how much was it?
Are the crotch shots on America’s Funniest Videos as funny to you as they are to the audience? Should we write to inform him that they are not?
Are the Sponsors of Wheel of Fortune as happy as Pat and Vanna appears when someone solves the puzzle and wins thousands of dollars?
Has Andy Rooney ever trimmed his eyebrows? If so; does he use scissors, shears, or a weed-eater?
While on this subject, I have never seen credit given to the hairdresser who is responsible for Martha Stewart’s locks. Will anyone own up to it?
Does the Jeopardy home game include a dictionary to explain the correct pronunciation of those words?
Has Alex Trebec ever mispronounced any of them? If so, name a few and list them in alphabetical order.
Do Scrubbing Bubbles really scrub? What would happen if you used them on your car? Would they remove all of the paint?
Where does Jerry Springer get all the weir-dos for his show? Do they receive compensation for their appearance on his show?
Why aren’t the names for all of the Doctors who constantly recommend each of those pain relievers “2 to 1″ revealed?
Is there a longer word in the English language than the one that follows, “And now; a word from our sponsor?”
What would happen to Television programming if all of the original shows would self-destruct after one viewing?
Why have you never heard a PBS Official make an offer to send you a gift if you pledge at the $5.00 level?
Be aware that these are only minor things that bother me. Perhaps, if time permits, I will venture into the realm that concerns most of our Citizens; politics.
Watch for future issues.
Demijon
For many of us; our joints are more accurate than the meteorologist’s radars. Dj.
January 14th, 2010
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Christmas has passed for another year but memories linger.
He had never thought it possible for anyone to become disgusted with the Christmas season. As a child he anticipated the holiday with awe and wonder. The sight of multi-colored lights on a tree was enough to send chills down his spine. It seemed to him that even the air held the unique smells of the season. The planning for and the spending of his meager savings for gifts for his family and a few close friends occupied much of the days preceding the big event.
As usual there were the rehearsals for the annual Christmas pageant at his Church to attend, and he always had a little trouble memorizing his part. He had never succeeded in securing a nonspeaking part; and this only increased his stress.
The years passed with alarming speed, and here he is an adult with children of his own. He shares their exhilaration as Christmas draws near, but somehow it’s not the same. The season now seems to begin with the first cool breath of autumn and continues up to the last possible moment before closing time on Christmas Eve. What once was excitement has now become almost nauseating since the commercialization of the Holiday Season from the retail establishments has become the norm.
With Christmas only a few days away, he was returning home from work one evening when he happened upon a disturbing sight. A man was lying in an alley with nothing to shelter him from the cold but a part of a cardboard box. His clothing was tattered and very dirty as was his straggly hair and beard. Obviously intoxicated, he nevertheless had enough of his wits about him to ask for a handout.
Whether it was sympathy or generosity that prompted his actions, he never knew; but almost before he realized it, he had handed the man two twenty dollar bills that were sorely needed for last-minute gifts for his family.
Christmas Day of that year was almost as exciting as he remembered as his family gathered to exchange their small gifts. With the celebration of the Holy Day over, and the New Year almost a Month old, his family had settled into the usual routines of work and school. One evening in late January, there was a knock on his door.
Outside was a neatly dressed stranger holding the hand of a beautiful child. In a voice strong with emotion the man said, “I thought you may want to know what your forty dollars bought. I have been completely SOBER since that night; I have re-gained my job and saved my marriage and I was able to buy my little girl the doll that she wished for. Thanks to your generosity, my family has had the best Christmas ever.” Almost choking with sentiment, he continued; “Please accept this small token of our gratitude and may God bless you and your family.” Inside the envelope he presented were two $50.00 bills.
When the man and child departed and he re-entered the house, the feeling of disdain for the Christmas season had completely vanished, and in its place was warmth and thankfulness for having been chosen as the benefactor of…
The Best Christmas Gift Ever..
Demijon
If one tries to fail and succeeds, which have they done? Dj.
January 13th, 2010
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First, I would emphasize that I am neither pro nor con with regard to the infamous pontoon bridge that links the Island of Sunset Beach with the mainland.
My wife and I discovered Sunset Beach in the spring of 1984. It is a serene island, accessed, at that time, only by playing chicken when crossing the Intracoastal Waterway by means of this quaint one-lane floating structure. There were no signals to control the flow of traffic, and everyone took their chances.
Like so many others, we fell in love with the atmosphere of this barrier island, and made our home there, on the mainland side, for some fifteen years after retirement. Traversing the Pontoon bridge was relatively easy with the exception of “SEASON.”
Each Saturday during “season” was registering and departing day for visitors from vacationers that traveled many miles to enjoy this unique paradise. From Memorial Day through Labor Day, both the causeway as well as the main highway was lined with vehicles for miles.
During those fifteen years we witnessed hundreds of cottages being constructed and a substantial increase in the flow of traffic to and from the island. More than once we were stranded on the Island, due to a breakdown of the intricate mechanism that allowed the bridge to open and/or close. This we accepted as part of the dues that we were willing to pay for the privilege of enjoying these peaceful surroundings.
Due in part to favorable publicity, each of those years saw an increase in the number of vacationers who had also discovered this captivating environment and many decided, as we did, to make their home here. We welcomed these neighbors while at the same time voiced concern for their health and safety as well as our own.
The decisions made by the elected leaders denoted this same concern when they voted in favor of, and with the concurrence of the Department of Transportation, upgrading the present bridge in favor of a high-rise access that would not impede traffic either on the causeway or the Intracoastal Waterway.
Opposition was immediate with the opposing side citing that easier access to the island would promote more growth. If the past fifteen years was any indication, the growth was already there. It was clear that something had to give.
Both my Wife and I experienced a minor incident when we were two among many that were stranded on the Island once, for an entire day, when a barge hit the bridge, causing it to be severed from its anchors. Any mainland personnel had to vacate the Island by boats operated by the Volunteer Fire Department at the end of the day.
The Town’s leaders as well as The N.C. Department of Transportation, became quite concerned by the fact that Medical Equipment as well as Fire Equipment would have NO access if other instances such as this occurred. The loss of property and possibly LIVES lost could be the catastrophic effect of retaining the bridge.
Design and installation of a better access to the Island was put on the front burner, just as we had decided to move into the foothills of North Carolina. However, several of our friends have kept us informed as to the progress of the new bridge that is projected to be complete in 2010.
The coastal orientation of the Island’s Accessibility to Ocean storms is an acceptable fact; but with better access from the mainland for Medical, Fire and Police protection, the risks have been reduced to a minimum.
We are indeed thankful to our God that no lives were lost and no property destroyed as a direct result of an antiqued, floating Pontoon Bridge.
Sure: it was picturesque; and possibly the most photographed Icon on the East Coast; but would it have been worth losing a life over?
Demijon
“MISTY:” - “How Golfers create divots and lose strokes.” Dj.
January 12th, 2010
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I remember well the first time that I saw it. It was a wooden boat that appeared to have been dropped in the side yard. Its timbers were rotted and vestiges of several coats of paint crumbling onto the sparse grass.
