I am in favor of reinstituting the draft. I would like to see all young men and women drafted into government service following graduation from high school, the only exceptions being for those who are completely disabled or married women with young children. My reasons follow.

The founding fathers of the United States believed in a separation of powers. Only Congress has the right to declare war and the power to pay for it. However, then surrounded by potentially hostile territories ruled by England, France and Spain, they recognized that occasions might arise where immediate military response was needed. Thus the President was made the Commander of the military with the right to respond to any attack.

This power to defend against threats to the United States and its citizens was used by Jefferson in the wars with the Barbary Pirates and by Reagan to protect citizens in Granada and in Panama. These were all quickly settled, minor, actions which received the approval of Congress, but never a declaration of war. However, this right to energize the military, without either prior approval of Congress or immediate threat to the United States has been expanded by our Presidents, perhaps beginning with Theodore Roosevelt when he sent the navy to impress Japan and then dared Congress to refuse the money to bring them home.

Although bitterly opposed by the public, drafting young men to fight in the military was instituted during the Civil War. It was re-instituted during World War I. President Woodrow Wilson decided to enter the war on the side of England. I don’t know why. It had little if anything to do with the United States and was a war to support and increase the imperial rule of England and France over African and Asian peoples while destroying the emerging imperial ambitions of Germany. Germany posed no threat to the United States. It was an unpopular war and many opposed it. Still the draft was enforced to supply the required soldiers.

In 1940, many opposed the steps President Roosevelt took toward entering World War II. Those steps included reinstituting the draft and supplying arms and food to England while prohibiting trade with Germany. This opposition died with the attack on Pearl Harbor. When the war ended, the draft was left on the books. Young men, aged between 18 and 26 were required to enroll. Thus, a roster of man power available to the military in case of emergency was maintained.

During the Korean "Police Action" and Vietnam’s undeclared "war" the draft was again used. Despite the fact that President Truman committed troops to South Korea without the prior approval of Congress and "war" was not declared, there was little protest. The public was told that we were fulfilling a promise to protect South Korea: North Korea was a clear invader and we were fulfilling our promise.

Protests about the draft arose, however, during the Vietnam conflict. Despite the promises made by President Franklin Roosevelt that our reasons for fighting in World War II were to permit the people of a country to select their own government, we had continued to support France and England in their rule of colonies against the wishes of the peoples living there. Thus President Kennedy supported imperialism by initiating our involvement to assist the French to continue their rule of Vietnam. With the collapse of the French effort, our military effort was increased, ostensibly to protect the puppet government of "South Vietnam," whose people had not been permitted to rule themselves by the French.

The Presidency of Johnson, who inherited the conflict, was destroyed by public opposition to our involvement and the use of drafted young men to fight an unpopular, ill considered, war. Drafting young men aroused the people of the United States. It made them pay attention to what the President was doing; which they don’t seem to have done earlier.

The consequence of the popular disapproval of drafting young men for Vietnam, was the creation of a "professional" army. This has led to unfortunate consequences. Since Vietnam and the creation of this professional army, President after President has used the army, without the prior approval of Congress, to engage in war after war, none of which were designated as "wars." Our Presidents have created an imperial United States with themselves as emperors.

President Clinton used his executive power to send troops, our "professional army," to "resolve" problems in Yugoslavia. Different ethnic groups were fighting each other. Entering on the side of the minorities we resolved the immediate conflict, defeating the Serbian army while killing many innocent civilians. Congress, unenthusiastically, paid for President Clinton’s adventure, but never declared a "war." The result? What was a nation has been divided into several "nations" and conflicts continue. Evidence of this was given recently when Mrs. Clinton, as Secretary of State, went to the area and urged ethnic groups to work and live together peacefully.

Both of our Presidents Bush used their executive powers to invade Iraq. Again, the first invasion was a quick event to drive the Iraq army out of a neighboring, friendly, country. This aroused little public outcry. The second invasion, to destroy and change the Iraqi government aroused public protest, led by a liberal media and opposed by many in Congress. Still, Congress paid and a reasonably successful conclusion appears to be being reached. Still, it cost many lives and hundreds of millions of tax dollars. Again, there was no draft. Why we entered and the wisdom of entering without the prior approval of Congress, signified by a declaration of war, and the general approval of the public remains a reasonable question.

Now we are heavily involved in Afghanistan. Pursuing the 9/11 terrorists who attacked us, Bush used his power as Commander in Chief to send our powerful, volunteer, military into a foreign nation, but did not ask Congress for a declaration of war. Declaring this a necessary conflict, President Obama has continued this involvement and has also used the air force to attack Libya without much public awareness or interest.

This is the problem of a professional military. A President can send them where he wishes, when he wishes, without official public approval. Citizens of the United States, busy with their own lives, pay little attention. If we did not have that "professional" military, if it were necessary to institute a draft to have the troops to send into a conflict, it would result in much stronger public debate. People would be interested if it was possible that their sons, not unknown professionals, would be sent to fight and die in nations in which they had no interest. Congress would become interested. Does anyone really believe that we would have ever entered Yugoslavia, Iraq or Afghanistan if the President had been required to institute a draft first?

A "professional" military, capable of being sent to fight anywhere in the world at short notice is an open invitation to the search for glory by Presidents. It creates an imperial presidency. It undermines our democracy. I oppose the idea of such a military. Let us return to a draft, during which the people as a whole are aroused to express their interests: their support or their opposition before we send our young men and women to die.

On the home front, we have a new dog. He joined us last Saturday. In addition to Trixie and Baxter we now have "Buddy." His owner was a young man who was seldom at home because of his job and Buddy had been kept on a chain, which made him unhappy. When we accepted him, the agreement was that if we found we couldn’t handle him, the owner would return and take him back. On Saturday, he didn’t want any of us touching him. On Sunday Sheila and I were permitted to pet him a bit, but I was wondering if we didn’t need to return him. However, he began to relax on Monday, so it appears that Buddy has found a new home with a large yard and no chain. Now, Friday, he gets along with the other two dogs and appears to believe that Sheila’s and my hands were meant to pet dogs, especially him. He does not, however, relax around occasional visitors. I mentioned to Stephen this morning that I don’t believe an intruder would be welcomed. Stephen’s reply was that anyone planning to rob the house who saw a Boxer, a German Shepard and a Rottweiler looking at him would have to be an absolute idiot to even considering entering without prior permission.

I have been feeling much better the past few days, so I have been weeding the garden and doing other odd jobs. This current writing is an excuse for avoiding mixing up a gallon of weed poison and spraying the weeds that are taking over the yard. Incidentally, I’ve not been completely lazy. I have weeded the garden and I’ve also done a load of wash. I’ll be glad when Sheila finishes the book on the history of Cumberland Furnace that she is doing for the Community Center and has time for, what is properly a woman’s work around the house. (I still refuse to wash the dishes, after all the dogs get them quite clean and, because of the antiseptic in their mouths, pure of germs.

The Community Center had a charity breakfast this morning, Saturday, so Sheila, Stephen and I attended. For some reason, I wasn’t hungry at lunch time. All I had was a little fruit, three slices of sausage, some scrambled eggs and three biscuits, one with home made jelly and the other two with gravy over them. At least that’s all I remember. I believe Sheila and Stephen ate less, but I wasn’t watching. It’s a free breakfast – all food is donated, but I gave them a check for thirty dollars, thinking that is what I would pay in a restaurant. Anyway, this is how the Center raises funds for its operating costs and the community gets a lot at no cost other than such volunteer donations. In fact, it extends beyond the immediate community. I went down the other night to watch a softball game; five and six year old children were playing. Not recognizing either children or parents, I asked where they were from and a parent replied that both teams were from Charlotte, a town seven miles away. Incidentally, for pure fun, go to such a game. I recall one child hitting the ball. It didn’t matter to him that the pitcher picked up the ball and beat him to first base, he tagged up there anyway and went on to second base, where he stayed. Later, he scored. Putting a little more money into a donation pot for breakfast is a very cheap expenditure for community good – those children will be adults some day, even if their parents doubt it at times.

This afternoon She and I took naps, after all driving the hundred yards down to the Community Center and then around the baseball field to the dumpster – we had five sacks of trash, is a very tiring morning.

My knee still hurts from my dive over Baxter. Mary Ann, our dictator nurse at the Cardiac Club, commented that men of my generation always think problems will go away if one waits long enough. Actually, it does with children, but not with wives.

A week after my destruction of our bed, Sheila was harassing me. She wanted to take pictures of my leg, which she claimed was an absolutely gorgeous blending of reds, blues and blacks. I’m keeping my leg covered. I will not permit pornographic photos of me. Furthermore, her enthusiasm about seeing me in different colors has made me a bit concerned about having her behind me if I’m walking down a flight of stairs.

My current inability to kneel bothers Sheila because, like all women, she likes an obedient husband, one who kneels on command. On the other hand, the realization that if any one of the attractive young women who work for Dr. Smith or Dr. Blazer was to sit on my lap it would hurt bothers me. So - as it is a concern for Sheila and a hopeful problem for me, I’ll have it checked in January. Maybe.

When I first put on my new hearing aids I sat on the back porch. I was amazed. Cumberland Furnace is not the quiet place that I’ve always thought. The birds at our feeder are a noisy lot, dogs are always barking somewhere and I hear every car and truck passing on the highway, which is almost a mile away. The sounds I enjoy are the chatter and laughter of happy youngsters playing ball at the Community Center playground.

 

Megaera gave us a kitten. Now, while lying on the floor exercising to stretch my back muscles and eliminate back pain, I have an adventurous kitten walking up my body to examine my face. This same delinquent feline enjoys jumping on my stomach when I’m trying to sleep and attacking my feet – I’ve tried shifting my feet over next to Sheila’s feet to encourage sharing, but the kitten prefers mine. It also walks on the key board of the computer when I’m trying to write – like now. Thanks, Megaera.

From Megaera, my thoughts drifted to Bill. We were living by ourselves and he was a student at Austin Peay State University. I would go to the Laundromat in Clarksville on Saturdays and, following washing and drying the clothing, go to a nearby drugstore that had a morning breakfast special: two eggs, toast and coffee for a dollar. One Saturday Bill accompanied me, so I left him with the wash while I did a few quick errands. Returning, I found my clothes were not yet dry. When I asked Bill if he had shaken them out, he replied that the owner had told him he didn’t need to do that, the dryer would do it. When we finally left, I pointed out to Bill that it took longer to finish drying the clothing when the machine had to shake them out: that the longer clothing was in a dryer, the more money the owner made. It was in her interests, not mine, to refrain from shaking the wrinkles from the clothing. Incidentally, we were too late for the dollar special by the time the clothes were dry.

It always amazes me how little our intelligent, educated, young adults know and understand about the world in which they live. Experience teaching at different universities has taught me that the same ignorance is rampant among young – and old – professors who receive all of their degrees and continuous employment without leaving a college campus.

I see that some former and current professional football players are suing the National Football League (NFL) for damage to their brains as a result of playing football. The horror of it! The NFL should not have forced those men to accept millions of dollars in salaries and play football for them. Now they are injured and no one cares – slavery at its worst. While they are at it, why don’t they also sue the Junior High Schools, the High Schools and the Colleges which forced them to play football? Thank God I was a ninety pound weakling in school. Otherwise I might be brain injured also – and be a Democrat.

Finally, the best of new years to all. No man has ever had better friends.

We lost our Yukon. Sheila and I sat on the porch and cried while Andrew dug a grave for her next to the porch and by the fence, a place she often rested. We loved her and she loved us.

About fifteen years ago, dogless, Sheila and I saw and advertisement offering a German shepherd to anyone wanting a dog. I went to claim her. Arriving at the people’s home, I met an almost mature, fifty pound dog staked close to a patio on a fifteen foot chain. There was no fenced yard. The couple who owned her had two young children, one a toddler still in diapers, the other not much older. Obviously an active large dog chained to the edge of the patio was a danger to the children. That was why she had to go.

I transferred her to a leash I had brought with me. Wow! How she fought! She not only was not interested in being with me, she had no intention in getting into my automobile. But I won. When we got home, she forgave me. Being free to roam in a fenced backyard that was about a hundred and fifty feet deep and a hundred feet wide was an unexpected luxury.

Naming her was not a problem, I had just returned from helping son Chris drive to Alaska in his jeep, all his worldly possessions piled on top and on the back with the most valuable cramped into the back seat along with his five year old son, August. Naturally, the new dog became "Yukon."

Yukon quickly emerged as our protector. Strangers had to be welcomed before she relaxed. Once, when Sheila and I were shopping, our fourteen year-old Megaera was home alone. A man she didn’t know came to the door – so did Yukon, who had been sleeping in the front room. For some reason, known only to her, Yukon didn’t like that stranger – her back hair was up, her teeth were showing and she was growling. The stranger turned and left without announcing his name or purpose for coming. I believe Yukon was right, otherwise that stranger would have backed off and announced who he was and why he was there.

We loved Yukon and Yukon loved us. Yes, when we buried our Yukon Sheila cried, I cried.

My pastor, friend and hunting partner in Canada, Frank Chubb, who died recently, once commented on love to me. His belief was that people who loved one person were incapable of not loving others. In other words, people capable of loving one other person will love others also.

I would like to expand Frank’s idea. I believe that people who are capable of loving, love. If a person can love, they will love. It may be to other people who, hopefully, are capable of returning that love, it may be to a dog, or cat or even a gold fish. But people who love, will love.

But loving doesn’t mean you don’t have responsibilities and priorities. It is love that compels a parent to punish a child for mischievous or dangerous behavior to enforce an awareness that such behavior is unacceptable. It is love that stops that punishment, especially when the parent is angry, before the punishment becomes excessive.

When teaching elementary school I loved many of my children - some were considerably more loveable than others. But those others often needed love more than the attractive, easier to teach, children. Love compels difficult actions sometimes. Love, which can be expressed in so many ways in a classroom, has priorities. Dirty children who have learned to resent school and teachers are difficult to love, but they need it more than those clean, attractive, eager to learn children. A child has times when he/she needs a bit of affection more than at other times. A good teacher recognizes that, and distributes it accordingly.

The same is true in life. Among all those we know and can or do love, some, because of our responsibilities, must come before others. Family, for example, must come before strangers, it is unfortunate that some don’t recognize that – or don’t accept it.

Note that I have not mentioned sex. I was taught, and firmly believe, that sex without love is meaningless and potentially harmful. Frank Chubb argued that sex was, and should be, the ultimate expression of love. Just as a mother demonstrates her love in the meals she prepares for her family, sex should be an expression of love. It is unfortunate that our society has cheapened it so much, changing what should be a banquet of life into a take-out hamburger.

 National news is reporting that three women have now reported sexual harassment by Mr. Cain, a top candidate for the Republican candidacy for President. No report I’ve read says that he made sexual advances towards them and punished them in some way for not accepting them. Neither are they saying that he made repetitive sexually offensive gestures in their presence. They are only saying that he made gestures, of some unidentified nature, which they found offensive. But it is still making national news.

My own offenses, sexual harassment today, probably began sixty years ago when I was teaching fifth grade in downtown St. Louis. It never bothered me to put an arm around some little girl, or boy for that matter, who was talking to me. One boy, who had been put into my class from a different class because that teacher could not control him, used to wait until I walked down to a restaurant on Broadway and walk with me. He would walk with his arm around me, and mine was around him. This, of course, occurred after we reached an understanding that I was the boss.

My offenses, if they were such, probably continued as a college professor. Try teaching mental health or abnormal psychology, as I did, and not offending someone. Since many, if not most, emotional problems arise from sexual or religious beliefs – often intertwined, “sexism,” by today’s standards, is rampant in such classes.

According to all news and women’s rights advocates, men are always the problem. But are they? Adolescent girls flirt. Men teachers need to be aware of that and watch their steps. When I was student teaching, a young male teacher, Jack, and I were responsible for supervising children as they walked up the stairs to our third floor classrooms. One teenager, with a shape that Hollywood starlets would pay doctors to emulate, would look up, take a deep breath and smile as she rounded the turn and came within sight of us. We would turn our backs. She, at all of fifteen, had our numbers and she knew it.

With twenty years experience as a college professor, I guarantee that there are young women who flaunt their femininity to their professors. Once I was standing in the hallway talking to a fellow professor, Dr. Davis. The hallway was a good eight feet wide and we were about two feet from the wall. A young lady, a student in our classes, who had a penchant for sweaters and an outstanding – pun intended, chest came down the hall. Approaching us, she turned sideways and, back to the wall, sidled between us and the wall, ignoring six feet of empty hallway.

A fellow professor, with more nerve than I had, once pinched an attractive young lady. She jumped back and said, “You pinched me!” His unrepentant reply was, “If you didn’t want a pinch, you shouldn’t have been rubbing your butt against my leg.”

The most open solicitation I ever received was a young woman in one of my classes, who came to my office and said, “I’ll do anything for an ‘A’ ” I replied, “Good! Read the chapters we are covering and study the summaries.” I don’t think she wanted that advice. She earned a “C”.

Quitting teaching to work for the army, I was amused one evening to observe the same use of femininity. My bride and I were sitting in the officers’ club at Ft. Devens when a young, female, lieutenant entered. She was attractive: tall, slender, with a pleasantly female figure and had her uniform tailored (against army regulations) to display her figure to best advantage. She sat with another lieutenant, male, at the table next to us. Then a captain entered and sat at a different table. Soon, she was at his table. As we were preparing to leave, a major entered. You guessed it. She was sitting at his table when we left.

Concerning Mr. Cain, I consider it astonishing that, considering his current prominence and former position as CEO of a large chain of restaurants, only three women have complained. Forty years of experience in business, education and civil service have taught me that any male in a position of power will attract sexual advances from women, from some women. Considering the broad definition of sexually harassment currently in style, Mr. Cain must have been very restrained! Perhaps I should stop telling young women at the hospital and grocery when I think they are attractively dressed. I might want to run for President some day.

I have learned why Sheila has put up with me all of these years, a question which has also puzzled my older children. I discovered this quite by accident. Sheila bought a cake and it has been sitting on our kitchen table for some time, an unusual state of affairs as I like cake. Sheila asked me why I wasn’t eating more of it. I replied the icing was too sweet and too thick for me. I only enjoyed it if I first scraped off most of the icing. Sheila replied that she liked the icing. That is the answer to our relationship. Sheila likes sweet things, thus she likes me. I am sweet.

I have my new hearing aids. It is my suggestion that universities create a three semester hour graduate course in the care and wearing of hearing aids for senior citizens. Knowledge, however, is only part of the problem. Vision and elderly, reluctantly nimble, hands are the other parts. It is my present conviction that I shall die of old, or at least considerably older, age before I’m comfortable with their care and use. Of course, wearing them creates another problem. I hear Sheila when she is mentioning jobs that need to be done.

While I’m thinking of it, and while Sheila is still on hold on the Internet trying to get information about those hearing aids, one of the nicest things that has happened to me is Sheila, and she has five step-children who agree with me. Also, I don’t know that I’ve ever thanked Bill for my annual subscriptions to the Wall Street Journal. I consider it the one best source of news available – to me or anyone else and I look forward to its arrival every morning in the mail.

Andrew is still headed into the Air Force. If I heard him correctly, he is scheduled to leave in mid-January and will join the engineers, which means he will train at Fort Leonard Wood, where Sheila and I were employed by the army for two years. We left there when I had an opportunity to go to the Warrior Preparation Center in Germany. I still remember Sheila cheering and dancing down the hall in the engineering building at Fort Leonard Wood, where she was employed designing books, when I asked her if she would mind giving up her job to go to Germany with me. She never did TELL me she would like to go.

Speaking of Germany, an incident I remember well was when we were preparing to leave there and return to the States. All of our furniture was gone and we were getting by on meals we purchased at the Post Exchange. One day, Sheila bought fried chicken and a dessert. She divided the chicken up in the kitchen and gave Andrew a leg. Now, Andrew didn’t like chicken, but he liked the looks of the dessert. Anyway, he took his chicken leg in the other room and returned a few minutes later saying he had completed his chicken, now he was ready for dessert. I asked, “Where is the bone?” Poor Andrew looked shocked and said, “Oh! The bone?” I retrieved the chicken leg from the trash, washed it off and handed it to Andrew. When he had eaten the meat off, he received his dessert. Children can be a lot of fun if watched carefully and not taken seriously.

Stephen has always enjoyed working with plants and animals. When a student at Austin Peay he became the volunteer caretaker of the aquarium in the biology building and also planted flowers and shrubs there and in the library. Among his plants in the science center atrium were three banana trees. Now in Springfield, Missouri, he will be pleased to note that the banana trees which he continued to care for as long as he was at home, have continued to prosper in his absence. In fact, Andrew reported that the one now has small green bananas growing on it.

After writing the above, I took a break and sat on the back porch watching our Sheba. At fifteen, her age is showing. She stumbles often, has difficulty moving from lying down to standing and wants lots of affection. When I mention these problems to Sheila and suggest that it might be kind to take her to the vet for a shot, Sheila looks me over more carefully than I am comfortable with, especially if I’m pushing myself up out of a chair or doing some other strenuous activity at the time.

The Environmental Protection Association (EPA) has declared “hay” a pollutant. This solves one problem for me and creates another.  “Hay” is simply long, dried, grass.  Whenever I cut my grass the cut pieces fall and become miniature hay.  EPA could sue me.  A solution would be to stop cutting grass.  I can retire my push mower.  Sounds good.  But what happens when the grass gets longer and dries of its own in the autumn?  The EPA could still sue me.  You may consider this unlikely, but my opinion of our current leadership is that they will sue me before they sue the White House for its lawn.  It is the “bully syndrome” in politics; pick on the little guy, not the big guy.

Democratic Governor Beverly Perdue of North Carolina has suggested suspending elections for two years until our government can get its house in order.  That’s like giving a two year old child who messes his pants time to clean them.

Stephanie Pisten, arrested as a murder suspect, says she is a vampire.  She should have no fear of execution.  She can just fly away on the night after her execution.    
 
Even more brain power has been demonstrated by Jose Acosta.  While carrying illegal drugs into the country or, at least, being found with drugs believed to be illegal upon exiting an airplane, he also carried notes for a planned book on how to succeed in carrying in illegal drugs.  The airport examiner read his outline intensified his search and found the drugs.  Perhaps Mr. Acosta should write a book on how to get caught carrying illegal drugs.

I really like Herman Cain.  I liked him when I listened to him on television and I liked him still more when I read his biography.  I have heard good things about Santorum, but know nothing about him.  Interesting, to me, Sheila received a telephone call from daughter Megaera this morning asking if we had ever heard of Herman Cain.  When Sheila replied that not only had we heard of him, we planned to vote for him, Megaera said that she and Shane liked him and that people they knew at work liked him.  (The idea of a person who has worked for a living becoming President appeals to me.)

Sheila claims that if Cain wins the nomination, it will be on word of mouth from persons who have heard him speak and read about him on the Internet.  Little has been said of him in the national media.  Even Fox Sunday Morning roundtable simply reported that he had won the straw pole in Florida and then spent the remainder of the broadcast discussing Romney and Perry.  In all fairness, the Wall Street Journal had a half page column on Cain, including his family history (working people) and background – major in mathematics in college and then, starting by cooking hamburgers, taking over one failing restaurant at a time, turning each into a success, and ending up as CEO of a major restaurant network.  Not bad for a guy who started as a poor boy whose father was a taxi driver and mother cleaned houses.   

A young woman at Colorado Mountain College was asked to drop a class because her epileptic seizures were disrupting the class.  She has sued claiming this is a violation of the American Disabilities Act.  I’ve done the arithmetic.  Most classes meet three 50 minute hours a week for eighteen weeks.  The cost of such a class per student at Austin Peay State University is $834.60 and the typical class has thirty students.  This works out to $463.67 for each instructional hour.  For those who haven’t seen one, a grand mal epileptic seizure is completely disruptive: the ones I have seen the person was sprawled on the floor kicking and foaming at the mouth for some time.  The person having such a seizure is, in effect, taking $462.67 from the class in addition to destroying any instruction.  I’m sorry for the girl, but doesn’t the majority have rights also?

I’ve been amused by the protesters disrupting the traffic on Wall Street because people working there make money.  It they really wanted to protest people making money and get attention, they should block the streets before National Football League.  There are probably more millionaires and multimillionaires playing professional football on any given Sunday than there are on Wall Street.  Of course, people paying to attend the game might get a bit irritated.  

A report on the Internet said that a goldfish has a memory span of only three seconds.  Having raised eight children, I’m prepared to testify that is longer than the memory span of any adolescent who has been given a job to do.

One morning last week I was bemoaning my lack of energy and criticizing my lack of accomplishment the day before. I told Sheila that I was down on myself. She perked up immediately and told me not to horn in on her job. According to Sheila, it is a wife's duty to criticize a husband, that in criticizing myself I was infringing on her priviledge and pleasure.

On the very good side, my grandson August is out of combat and in the pipeline that will bring him home. When we last heard he was in Anchorage. Please accept the fact that he may be hard to live with eventually, at least when I returned people told me I was, but combat does that to you. It is not just the actual fighting, but also the fact that as long as you are on the front you must be careful, else you could be dead. This creates a watchfulness, a tension, which lasts twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. When you are actually “up front” you get accustomed to this, you live with it and don’t notice it, but it accompanies you when you return home and others notice it. You aren’t trying to be unpleasant, you just are. It takes time to un-wind, the family will need to give our Auggie time to un-wind.

I was at the Veterans’ Hospital in Nashville Thursday. I talked Sheila into driving in (foggy morning rush traffic) on the promise that I would drive the return trip. Unfortunately a two and a half hour hearing examination left me tired, so she had to drive back (sun and glare afternoon traffic). I had been there the week previously also and now have a trip planned to Dr. Smith next week. I always enjoy visiting with Gary, for one thing he listens and I have a couple of small problems I wish to present to him. Despite the pleasure of meeting with Gary, I am getting really tired of going to a doctor every week.

Sheila attended a small art group earlier this week. I was pleased to see her attend. I’d be even more pleased to see her start painting again. She has made a start on this by organizing our family room as an art room, but I haven’t seen her pick up a brush yet. Her work on the history of Cumberland Furnace has been interrupted by a computer crash. Between Stephen’s advice and Andrew’s work the computer is working again, but she lost a lot of the work she had done. That has to be discouraging.

Not much news on the children. Chris telephones once a week and continues his consulting, Eric is still teaching law, Bill has been traveling a lot recently (Norway among others) consulting, Laura has changed jobs and instead of riding around in a police car as a social worker to intervene in crises, is counseling at the University of Texas, Renie continues editing and writing for a daily law journal, Stephen is still doing landscaping in Springfield, Andrew continues to take classes at Austin Peay while awaiting summons from the Air Force and Megaera continues working on her degree at Austin Peay. In other words, all are law abiding and supporting themselves, which is more than many can say in our currently depressed and moral-less society.

Beyond the above, it is a beautiful day today: brilliant sunshine and cool. Were I not so tired and spending so much time sleeping I’d be spending the day outdoors. That touch of autumn is in the air. The days are shorter and cooler, with daytime highs in the seventies and low eighties and nighttime lows providing comfortable sleeping provided you have sufficient blankets and a warm wife next to you.

Robert Gibbs, President Obama’s, campaign adviser and former White House Press Secretary, says that President Obama is not focused on keeping his job. If true, why has Obama hired a campaign adviser and why has he purchased two million-dollar buses from Canada to tour the States giving speeches. Sounds like he’s focused on keeping the job to me. Were I Mr. Gibbs, I would suggest that Obama not use those Canadian buses when touring in Michigan and Ohio. The automobile union workers who voted for him might wonder why he is buying expensive vehicles made in Canada.

One of the things I’ve recently learned is that when Obama flew from one place to another in his Presidential airplane - followed by another Presidential airplane carrying his followers, he was also accompanied by two airplanes, each of which carried one of his million dollar buses. This permitted him to ride into and through towns on a bus. I suppose he thought that made him look more like a member of the public.

Byron York in an article printed August 11^th, quotes Obama as saying, “I reversed the depression until “bad luck … .” Reading the article I wondered if Mr. York or, for that matter, President Obama remembered the “cash for clunkers” disaster or the trillion dollar debt occurred in creating all of those temporary government jobs – which also became a “clunker.”

I have been comparing, mentally, the treatment given President Bush with that given Obama. Without question, the national news media was highly critical of President Bush and, until very recently when some tentative criticisms have been raised, highly complimentary of President Obama, forgiving his outrageous and expensive stupidities such as ObamaCare. I think I know the reason. When President Bush took a vacation, always criticized, he went to his ranch in Texas. When President Obama takes a vacation it is always to some expensive resort as in Hawaii or on Martha’s Vineyard. In Texas, members of the national press were stuck in normal motels, such as Motel 6, and ate normal breakfasts in fast food houses, places where you can get a couple of fried eggs and toast for a couple of dollars. In Hawaii and on Martha’s Vineyard the press was “forced” to stay in four star places. Members of the National Press are IMPORTANT. Just as President Obama enjoys four star treatment, the National Press enjoys and wants four star treatment (paid for on expense accounts.) No wonder they are friendlier to President Obama than they were to President Bush.

Obama is asking for another stimulus package, about 500 billion dollars. He is citing the need for infrastructure including repairing bridges and hiring teachers, police and firemen. Why didn’t he spend some of the 1.8 TRILLON dollars he got in the first stimulus package on those needs?

Incidentally, there is a catch to these stimulus packages. I recall when President Johnson spent hundreds of millions of dollars in assisting schools to provide classes for special needs students. School districts throughout the nation accepted this money and established such classes, hiring special teachers. The next year the school districts had to raise taxes to continue the programs established with the “stimulus” money. A “stimulus” is to start something with federal taxes. Taxpayers must continue paying for it with local taxes.

There are rumors that the Post Office is running out of money. Perhaps it will close down. How sad. I won’t be able to get electric or gas bills any more, not to mention income tax forms. Ah well, as President Obama said, one must put up with hardships.

The Solyndra scandal, in which Obama’s henchmen gave a half billion dollars to a failing company and rewrote the rules so that taxpayers, not donors to his campaign, will lose money is troubling, but minor to me. It is my understanding that this year’s income tax form will include a yes/no statement “I will vote for Obama in 2012.” Underneath will be a statement that those who lie will receive ten years in prison. Those who answer “yes,” will receive a 10 percent deduction in their gross income, those who answer “no” will have their gross income increased by the same amount.

On a serious note, elections are coming. I believe that everyone should be involved in a political party. Democrats should attend and be active in meetings of Democrats and Republicans should attend and be active in meetings of Republicans. If everyone did, then they could get those parties to support their wishes, not the goals of a few insiders and we would have fewer incompetent and/or corrupt officials. Please note that I am not saying everyone should VOTE a straight ticket. I may call myself a Republican, but I’ve always voted for the person I thought was best qualified, rarely a straight ticket.

Knowing that I am livelier than most men who were born in 1930, most of who are buried, did not keep me from considering the cost of burial when my time comes. Since my first wife cashed in my insurance policies when she divorced me, and I know our current savings rate, I decided to check on the cost of a funeral. If you feel too happy and on top of the world for your own good, go to a funeral home and discuss the price of leaving this world. I did that this past Monday. It took all morning. It is not just the cost that contributes to your enjoyment, although it helps, it is also such matters as the selection of your coffin and pall bearers. What fun!

Today, a touch of autumn is in the air. The days are shorter and cooler, with daytime highs in the eighties and nighttime lows providing comfortable sleeping in the lower seventies and upper sixties.

This morning, tripping over a stool in the kitchen and surveying the pile of dishes drying in the sink, I began reflecting on the past. When son Bill and I lived here alone, I had two plates, two cups and glasses, two sets of knives and forks, a crock pot and a comfortable existence. It was a very comfortable existence. I had only the two dishes to wash each morning and did my laundry in town, eating breakfast afterwards at a place where two fried eggs, toast and coffee cost a dollar and I didn’t have to wash dishes.

Then Ruby Leach, living across the then unnamed road – now Leach road, talked me into buying a little used, second hand, stove for fifty dollars and a student at Austin Peay supplied me with a washing machine that her mother, who had purchased several at a military sale, didn’t want. Unfortunately, these reduced the pleasant necessity of my Saturday morning trips to town for washing.

Next my sister, Ethel, visited for a few days. When I returned from work the first evening following her arrival, she came dancing across the yard to greet me as I exited my car. “I’ve made a few changes,” she said, “I hope you don’t mind.” In fact, she had completely re-arranged my household furniture, moving my bedroom to a different room and making a “few” other changes. She also had a low opinion of my dishware: shortly after she went home I received a large box, which held a complete set of new dishes. This wasn’t too bad, I simply stored them. Life remained pleasantly simple.

Then Sheila began visiting. I tried to explain to her that the yellow stripes on my plates were paint, not egg remnants, but she didn’t listen. It didn’t help my argument when she washed off the paint, turning the plates back into pure white.

Changing the subject slightly, to the present, with my broken chest I have problems doing one armed work. It is not just the exercise, it is the way the bones re-adjust themselves in the evening when I’m trying to go to sleep. They crackle. Sometimes they even hurt. Sheila has spent some time exploring the Internet and has located a vest that is supposed to help with this problem. It is adjustable and, they warn, heavy. She telephoned several stores and could not locate anyone carrying it, so she finally telephoned the company that makes them. She was told that they have several in their inventory and would be happy to send her one without charge, provided she agreed that I would go to my doctor before wearing it. She agreed. When she told me about this I commented that it could be a way of obtaining free advertising for a vest that wasn’t selling. Anyway, one is supposed to be in the mail. Perhaps I’ll be able to wield my garden shovel again.

Have you ever noticed how women complicate a man’s life? First it was Ruby bringing cooking and washing back into my life – I did a lot of it when my older children were small, then it was Ethel with her dishes and pots, now it is Sheila bringing in clothing that I’ve never heard of so that I can do work I don’t know that I want to do. No wonder men were so happy in the Garden of Eden before women were invented.

While working at FortLeavenworth, I received a telephone call from a Colonel in Germany whose opening question to me was, “Are you good at writing.” My answer was that good writing was very difficult. As soon as I said that I lost the job. 

If I had answered, “I’ve published thirty-two articles in refereed journals and one book.” I would have gotten the job. It would have been a promotion.

Similarly, one of my sons failed to obtain a job for which he applied in computer sales and repair. When asked if he could repair computers he replied to the effect that it was difficult but he believed he could. If, instead of beginning with the difficulty, he had replied, “I’ve built my own computer and helped install the computer network at a new high school,” he would have put himself on a more attractive level. 

When job hunting, accept the fact if an employer has two applicants with comparable credentials, one of whom he knows and thinks well of and one whom he doesn’t know, he will employ the one he knows. It is a sensible decision. That is why a young person moving to a new community should become active in community affairs and attend a local church. That gives people who might know of – or have, job openings a chance to know you. 

Before applying for a job, you should find out as much as you can about the company.  An applicant who can say positive and accurate reasons for seeking work with the company creates a good impression. The Internet is a good place to start looking: it provides descriptions and backgrounds of many companies. If you can express a reason why you wish to work for THAT company, it is a plus in an interview. Being out of work and needing money is never a good reason to provide an interviewer.

Always wear clothing appropriate to the position for which you are applying. A person hiring ditch diggers will think twice about an applicant in a suit, white shirt and tie. Similarly, an employer interviewing people for a management position will think twice about an applicant dressed like a ditch digger.

Many companies advertise job opportunities on the Internet. But remember: people prefer to employ someone they have met – any alcohol or drug addict on skid row can go to a library and use their computers to apply for a job. If you have applied on the Internet, it would be best if you could find some excuse to go to the personnel department of the company so that they could see you in person. Perhaps taking an addition to your resume′ would serve that purpose or even just explaining that you would like to meet the people you would be working with, if you got the job. 

Begin a job application with the acceptance of the fact that any new job is going to require new learning, even if it is only the location of the rest rooms. But don’t begin by discussing difficulties you envision. Talk about your successful, related, experiences.  After that you might mention difficulties which had arisen in a similar job and how you overcame them if it seems appropriate.  

Recently one of my sons interviewed with a pet store, part of a large chain, for a position caring for the reptiles. I don’t know how he handled the interview, but he should have spoken of his experiences caring for the snakes and lizards at the zoo in Branson. Discussing experiences relevant to the job demonstrates to an interviewer that you know and understand the work you would be doing.

Few jobs are completely safe. Unless you are inheriting a farm or business from your parents, you are likely to be looking for another job, either voluntarily or involuntarily, sometime in your working life. So, while employed, consider where you might like to go next: to a similar position with a different company, to a higher position or into a different line of employment altogether. In considering this, review job opportunity announcements on the Internet, in the newspapers or in the monthly notices of the state Social Employment agencies.  These will inform you what sorts of jobs are available. Then use any opportunity, such as night school classes or volunteer work, to improve your status for positions which have openings and might appeal to you.

Lastly, never turn down an opportunity to interview for another job no matter how satisfied you are in your current position. Even if satisfied, the job available might be more satisfactory. The best time to obtain a job offer is when you have a job, not when you are unemployed. 

No one has heard from me in some time, so I thought a note of apology might be in order: or, at least one of excuses. 

Today, is the first day in ten or twelve days that we haven’t had company at the house. If you think that I should know exactly how many days, forgive me. One tends to lose track of time when having fun.

Any way, on Sunday, July 24th, I expected my son-in-law Christopher to arrive. He was on his way to WashingtonD.C. and we are about half way there from his home.  We would make an inexpensive overnight stop. Evening came, and I wondered if he might have chosen some motel as a half way point. Since it was seven o’clock and my normal bedtime is eight, I took my shower. 

It always seems a waste of energy to walk the length of the house fully clothed, undress for a shower and then dress back up to return to the bedroom. Therefore, following customary procedure, I stripped to my shorts in the bedroom and took my shower. Afterwards, I sat at the computer in my office to play a game or two of solitaire before going to bed. 

Comfortably un-attired, I was sitting at my computer in the front room when the door burst open and Megaera entered. This was not uncommon: Megaera has never been particularly concerned about parental privacy. I just continued with my solitaire game. 

Then Shane arrived, perhaps accompanied by, or followed by, some young man that I was supposed to know but didn’t. I believe Barbara was next, bringing news from the local BaptistChurch – Sheila managed to stop her at the door, pulling the sliding door into our computer room closed. Thus I was unseen undressed by Barbara - unless she happened to look straight ahead while approaching the house from her car. In that case, it would have been possible for her to guess that I was sun bathing while sitting in the front room. After Barbara, Christopher arrived accompanied by sons Nick and Joe. I believe they were followed by someone else, but not in the mood for genial visitors, I simply went to bed.

The next morning, after finishing my morning meal of a small bowl of oatmeal and two pieces of toast while reading the news on the internet, I went to the kitchen in time to observe Sheila feeding our Andrew, Christopher, Nick and Joey a modest breakfast of hot homemade biscuits, scrambled eggs and CeeBee’s delicious sausage - a bit better than my feast of gruel and toast. Then I learned that they planned to stay for three days, leaving for DC on the fourth morning. 

Christopher spent spare time expounding on the virtues of Obama and the Democratic Party (I would have been pleased to hear specifics, but Chris didn’t get that far), while Nick and Joey, under Andrews’s guidance, made trips to the creek to swim. I washed their clothes twice that day following each trip to the creek – I do clothing, Sheila does dishes. The next morning, seeking to salvage the visit from my point of view, I put Chris to work repairing my riding lawn mower and took Nick down to help me mow the grass at the blacksmith shop. As I explained to Nick afterwards, if I had mowed grass when I was his age the way he did, I would have had to pay people for the privilege. Anyway the lawn mower worked if he didn’t. He did manage to get a load of chiggers sitting and while watching me mow.

After visiting in DC, Chris and his future Young Democrats returned on August 2^nd again staying for a few days and increasing my washing activity. During their visits I found myself washing a minimum of six towels a day, usually twelve. Finally paying attention, I told young Nick that if I could dry myself on one towel, so could he. Two were unnecessary. I also pointed out that a lengthy shower at six in the morning in a one bathroom house with seven people was frustrating people in need and overdoing cleanliness – that is where four of my towels had been coming from, Nick was using two every morning and two every evening.

I gave Chris more to do – my four-wheeler hadn’t worked in a few months. Now it works. It is nice to have your engineer son-in-law visit. 

Anyway, the additional chores and the company, not to mention fatiguing afternoon temperatures in the upper 90s with one reaching 105, all accompanied by laziness, led to the delay in writing this blog.

Now, having exhausted myself, I’m off for another nap. 

Sheila attended a ladies luncheon yesterday. Quite a luncheon: she returned home after four o’clock! I was home alone for hours. Even worse, she did not bring a dessert home with her as she promised and my sugar count was running low. However, in her absence, I seized the opportunity to cut the grass in the front and back yards and scrape some paint that was peeling on the side of the house by the cliff. As long as the ladder was up, I cleaned those gutters also.  She disapproves, and interferes, with such activities when the temperature is in the nineties and she is present. 

Andrew and I have fungus infections from all of the humidity. Sheila e-mailed Dr. Smith asking if we needed to come in. He returned a reply saying to use a particular powder and see if that didn’t correct the problem. (I have noticed that Dr. Smith no longer needs to see me in his office as much as he did before the Connors, my source of fresh blueberries which I used to take him, died.)   She claimed he also said I should stay indoors on the high temperature high humidity days. Of course, that depends on how you define “high temperature and high humidity.” However, I’m not sure he said that, she might have been inserting her own opinion of my activities while she was at her “luncheon.” 

Speaking of office visits, Dr. Blazer’s office telephoned to cancel my Friday appointment. I commented to the caller that it was probably because I flirted with all of his attractive women assistants so much. She replied that, no, I was welcome to come in and flirt as much as I wished. One of the advantages of being in your eighties is that you can flirt with girls, a girl being any woman under forty, all you wish and you both enjoy it. They, your wife and their husbands know darned well that you are past the ability to provide any unpleasant consequences.

An interesting thing to consider in writing is how changing the phrasing of something can also change the connotation. Considering that this morning, I recall commenting to Dr. Gary Smith that I was one of his oldest patients. At the time, I was thinking of the fact that I began going to him before he started his independent practice. He replied, “In both ways,” referring of course to my age. Another way of saying the same thing would be to say that I was one of his oldest surviving patients. See what I mean about connotations?

I read an interesting article recently, if I recall correctly in the National Geographic. Persons in the far north have been attempting to tame foxes – to make them friendly to humans as are dogs. They would breed young foxes that were friendlier to humans to one another. In a very few generations, five or six, they had developed foxes which ran to humans and behaved just like friendly dogs. They also had interesting physical changes; one was that their tails curled upward, as do dogs, rather than straight back as do wild foxes. Another interesting change was in their ears. As each generation became tamer, their ears became rounder. Normal foxes, aggressive violent animals that they are, have pointed ears. I found that fascinating and have been paying attention. Has anyone other than me noticed that men; helpful, friendly, companionable creatures that we are have round ears while women tend to have pointed ears? I should note that Sheila wants me to show her my curly tail, but husbands have some privacy rights.

Even before watching ears, I have been taking a poll of husbands. I claim that all girls are sweet and pleasant up until the date of marriage, that when the ring goes on, the hammer comes down. As a downtrodden and abused husband I have experienced this first hand. To date, every married man I have interviewed has agreed with me.

Finally, a word of praise for President Obama! He has suspended or cancelled hundreds of millions of dollars in aid to the Pakistan military. Of course, it took him two years to get around to it. I have wondered for some time why we are sending military aid to a nation that is assisting the Taliban in their war against us.

One of my favorite politicians is Michele Bachmann. One reason for this is her attack on the minimum wage. I’m not certain what it is at present; somewhere about or over seven dollars, but I believe it costs our citizens more than it does good. Star Parker, in one of her essays, points out that it results in a higher unemployment rate among the poorly educated. The high minimum wage results in employers hiring fewer poorly educated beginning workers. Instead of hiring two or three job applicants at a lower salary and giving the best of them the opportunity to advance, companies, saddled with a higher minimum, can employ only one, hoping they have made the right choice. This reduces the opportunity for an unskilled, but intelligent and willing person, to demonstrate their abilities.

The more I read about Mr. Herman Cain, who is running for the Republican nomination for President, the more I like him. He is the CEO of Godfathers’ Pizza and on the Board of at least two other corporations. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a successful business man as President instead of a successful professional politician with little or no experience in working for a living as we currently have?

Discussing it with Sheila following the Fox Sunday Morning roundtable, which has had both Bachmann and Cain (along with other) Republican candidates, I mentioned that I would support either Bachmann or Cain for the Presidency, with my first choice probably going to Cain because of his extensive business experience. She agreed with me on those as her two favorites, but added that she is waiting to see what the Governor of Texas does. We are in agreement there also.

I have read that the United States has a law prohibiting attacks on enemy leaders during cases of armed conflict. I don’t understand this. Why was it all right for snipers to focus on me during combat in Korea (because I carried the radio) when all I really wanted was to be home taking care of myself. Similarly, I could focus fire on Chinese soldiers, who probably had the same wishes to be in their own homes that I had, but our government wouldn’t bomb their leaders. For example, we know that Iran is supplying weapons and volunteers to fight in other countries at the same time that they are suppressing their own people. I’d be in favor of waiting until they have some big political rally and then bombing the devil out of them. I suppose that the reason we don’t do that is the fear on the part of our leaders that they might return the favor. Actually, the idea of the loss of the President and Congress to enemy action doesn’t really disturb me. I’d like to see most of them out of office. I’d be sorry about some, but I still have the attitude that I was raised with that no one is more important than me, and no one is less important. (That attitude, I might add, has occasionally caused me problems with bosses.)

According to President Obama, bombing and strafing Libya, destroying its equipment and killing its people is not an act of war, therefore he does not need Congressional approval. I suppose we should apologize to Japan for declaring war on them and starting World War II. After all, they only bombed and strafed Pearl Harbor. Applying the Libyan logic, Japans bombing and strafing of Pearl Harbor was not an act of war. Using Obama logic, our entry into WW II constituted an unjustified declaration of war.   Of course Obama did ask permission of the United Nations. Out of curiosity, was he elected to run the United States or the United Nations?

Sheila and I spent this morning, June 22^nd, visiting the local VA representative. My goal is to get the Veterans’ Administration to supply the drugs I currently (am supposed to) take for eight dollars each a month instead of the current two hundred dollars total a month. The gimmick is that if you can be approved for one combat caused problem, then all medications, including my heart medications, would be at that cheap price. The VA Rep and Sheila spent an hour talking about me. Their final agreement was that it would be easiest to prove that I was insane and with that proof I could get the heart medicine. I’m not certain how complimentary their discussion was.  Anyway, I have an appointment for July 26 with the VA doctors in Clarksville.

Sheila has spent several months now writing a history of Cumberland Furnace for the Community Center and Historic Village Association rather than spending her time cooking delicious meals, keeping an immaculate house and attending to her husband’s every need while listening to his wise ideas, as all wives should. Her history is now up to the construction and running of the furnaces. This morning, taking a break from the computer during a thunderstorm, she asked me if I knew the difference between a hot blast furnace and a cold blast furnace. I replied, “Certainly, a hot blast furnace is a time when a wife doesn’t like something a husband is doing, a cold blast furnace is when she has given up on him.” That answer cost me a fifteen minute lecture on the subject.

I had the misfortune to see a small dog – thin and shivering, hiding under a bush while I was mowing the grass by the blacksmith shop a few weeks ago. Naturally I brought it home. Hungry? Yes. It ate all food in sight. It was also a bouncy thing, jumping around and up on any person available. Sheila took its picture and made posters, which we distributed, hoping some individual would claim this lost, almost adult, puppy. After a few days we gave up. In the meantime, continuing to eat, it expanded its activities, chewing up a favorite book of mine, which it took off of the back porch table, and chewing up insulation Sheila had put around the window opening onto the back porch. That dog was a genuine pain. Reduced to desperation and not wanting to take it to the pound, Sheila used the telephone and finally found a “dog rescue” person who was willing accept it. Not only were Sheila, Andrew and I glad to see the exit of that puppy, but so were our two cats and three dogs. 

Last night we celebrated the 4^th of July with our usual fireworks demonstration in Cumberland Furnace. As usual, we drew crowds from who knows where. There must have been two or three thousand people here, cars lined the highways and road, filled the Community Center acreage, the church driveways and many of the yards of neighbors. Considering that the population of Cumberland Furnace is probably less than two hundred, it was crowded, but everyone had a good time with bands, singers and, finally, a couple thousand dollars worth of fireworks, purchased at a discount from a warehouse. The darned thing wasn’t over until ten and I was unable to get to bed before eleven. Consequently, when I tried to work on a political essay this morning, I complained to Sheila that I was having problems. She replied that I was just tired, I needed a rest and should work on it tomorrow. She added, “When you are tired, you are not your usual brilliant self.” I asked her if she realized that the word “usual” really qualified the word “brilliant.” She giggled.

For anyone still reading, a bit of advice from a mature and sadly experienced friend. Never – ever- drink a quart of apple juice while watching a movie prior to going to bed.