TORONTO (AP) - Canadian politicians will hit the campaign trail this holiday season after opposition parties seized upon a corruption scandal to bring down the minority government of Prime Minister Paul Martin in a vote of no confidence.
Monday's loss means an election for all 308 seats in the lower House of Commons, likely on Jan. 23. Martin and his Cabinet will continue to govern until then.
The Conservative Party teamed up with the New Democratic and Bloc Quebecois parties to bring down the government, claiming the ruling Liberal Party had lost its moral authority. Recent polls have given the Liberals a slight lead over the Conservatives, with the New Democrats in third place.
The same surveys suggest the Bloc Quebecois would sweep the French-speaking province of Quebec, making a majority government unlikely no matter which party wins the most seats... [Continued]
2005-11-29
2005-11-16
What Typically Happens When The Govt Gets Involved...
The entity created by the federal government to guarantee pensions has posted a deficit for the last 4 years. At whose expense? Ours of course... I can't believe that some people want the government to take over healthcare. Why do we keep putting people that make up stuff like this into office? How many billions of dollars do we have to toss out the window before we realize that it is not the government's responsibility to hold our hands in every aspect of our lives?
2005-11-11
Happy Birthday to My Dad!
Today he turns 53!
21 Year Air Force Retiree
Russian Linguist
Registered Nurse for Hospice
Father of 4
Grandpa of 9
21 Year Air Force Retiree
Russian Linguist
Registered Nurse for Hospice
Father of 4
Grandpa of 9
2005-11-10
ANWR Turncoats Led by CHARLIE BASS, R-NH
http://www.house.gov/bass/pr_110805.html
This man and 27 other RINOs are blocking the ANWR drilling efforts, and will be further hamstringing our attempts to become independent of Middle East blood oil.
Clay Shaw, FL-22
Vernon Ehlers, MI-3
Sue Kelly, NY-19
James Walsh, NY-25
Michael Fitzpatrick, PA-8
Jim Gerlach, PA-6
Thomas Petri, WI-6
Mark Kirk, IL-10
Jim Leach, IA-2
Mark Kennedy, MN-6
Jim Ramstad, MN-3
Jeb Bradley, NH-1
Frank LoBiondo, NJ-2
Dave Reichert, WA-8
Nancy L. Johnson, CT-5
Christopher Shays, CT-4
Rob Simmons, CT-2
Mike Castle, DE
Tim Johnson, IL-15
Roscoe Bartlett, MD-6
Wayne Gilchrest, MD-1
Joe Schwarz, MI-7
Charles Bass, NH-2
Rodney Frelinghuysen, NJ-11
Jim Saxton, NJ-3
Chris Smith, NJ-4
Sherwood Boehlert, NY-24
This man and 27 other RINOs are blocking the ANWR drilling efforts, and will be further hamstringing our attempts to become independent of Middle East blood oil.
Clay Shaw, FL-22
Vernon Ehlers, MI-3
Sue Kelly, NY-19
James Walsh, NY-25
Michael Fitzpatrick, PA-8
Jim Gerlach, PA-6
Thomas Petri, WI-6
Mark Kirk, IL-10
Jim Leach, IA-2
Mark Kennedy, MN-6
Jim Ramstad, MN-3
Jeb Bradley, NH-1
Frank LoBiondo, NJ-2
Dave Reichert, WA-8
Nancy L. Johnson, CT-5
Christopher Shays, CT-4
Rob Simmons, CT-2
Mike Castle, DE
Tim Johnson, IL-15
Roscoe Bartlett, MD-6
Wayne Gilchrest, MD-1
Joe Schwarz, MI-7
Charles Bass, NH-2
Rodney Frelinghuysen, NJ-11
Jim Saxton, NJ-3
Chris Smith, NJ-4
Sherwood Boehlert, NY-24
2005-11-09
Texas Constitutional Amendments: 2005 Results
http://204.65.107.70/05novgen.htm
1. Texas Rail Facilities: 54% For
2. Marriage Amendment: 76% For
3. Economic Devleopments do not constitute debt: 52% For
4. Bail denial for pre-trial release violations: 85% For
5. Commercial loan interest rates defined by Legislature: 57% Against
6. Members added to State Commission on Judicial Conduct: 63% For
7. Line of credit advances under reverse mortgage: 60% For
8. Certain land titles cleared in Upshur & Smith counties: 61% For
9. Six-Year term for regional mobility authority: 53% Against
1. Texas Rail Facilities: 54% For
2. Marriage Amendment: 76% For
3. Economic Devleopments do not constitute debt: 52% For
4. Bail denial for pre-trial release violations: 85% For
5. Commercial loan interest rates defined by Legislature: 57% Against
6. Members added to State Commission on Judicial Conduct: 63% For
7. Line of credit advances under reverse mortgage: 60% For
8. Certain land titles cleared in Upshur & Smith counties: 61% For
9. Six-Year term for regional mobility authority: 53% Against
2005-11-08
Report - A one act play by me
Report
Characters
Kevin – Main character
Donna – Kevin's wife
Nancy – Kevin's boss
Johnson – Coworker
Mike – Coworker
Bill – Coworker
Scene 1
Kevin has finished getting ready for work and he sits at the table for breakfast, which his wife Donna has prepared for the two of them. The clock on the back wall reads 6:10am.
Kevin: (Thinking) Man, another day. This week has just drug on and on. I am so glad we are leaving for the Caribbean today. I don't think I'm going to be able to get anything done at work today; I should have just taken the day off. And traffic is always the worst on Fridays, everybody's trying to leave town, nobody knows how to merge or use their signals. Man, I'm frustrated already. At least the day is starting out right: Bacon, just the right crispiness, fried eggs all the white is cooked and the yolk is runny enough to dip my toast in, and fresh orange juice to top it off. Pretty soon, all I'm gonna have to do is hang around in the cabin on that big ol' boat, sip fruity drinks and relax. Man, life is great…
(Donna interrupts his thought.)
Donna: So, Kevin, do you think you're going to be able to get off early today so we can get started on the drive to the coast. We board early tomorrow morning, so I'd like to check into the hotel in time to get enough sleep tonight.
Kevin: Sounds like a great plan, honey. I'll have to give it a try, but you know how ornery my boss can be. I'm sure she'll have some ultra-critical-plus-plus-plus job for me to do. Of course it'll be something that could have been done yesterday or even last week, but these things only seem to come up when I want to leave early.
Donna: Don't be so negative, sweetie. Just think, we're gonna have a wonderful time in the Cayman Islands, Playa Del Carmen, the Yucatan. I can't wait to have formal dinners, see the Mayan ruins, see all of that culture, swim in the ocean, work on my tan, listen to great music, see all the shows, maybe spend some time in the casino, and of course spend some much-needed quality time with you…
Kevin: I can't wait to get on that buffet line.
Donna: Excuse me?
Kevin: And spend time with you, of course. That goes without saying.
Donna: It shouldn't.
Kevin: Shouldn't what?
Donna: Go without saying.
Kevin: Gotcha. Right.
Donna: Don't you like it?
Kevin: What?
Donna: Your breakfast.
Kevin: Of course! It's great, thanks!
Kevin kisses her, and heads for the door.
Kevin: I'll see you after work, sweetie.
Donna: Okay, have a good day.
Scene 2
A cubicle decorated with comics, pictures of family members, magazine articles about trucks, and various printed email messages. Everything on the desk is organized neatly. The inbox is empty. The clock on the wall reads 7:30am.
Kevin: (Thinking and clicking at the mouse) Now if I can get all my regular stuff done before Nancy gets in she may let me take off before lunch. All the servers look good. No errors in the logs. No long-running jobs last night. It looks like all the nightly reports printed out just fine. The stats for the day got emailed out to the business analysts. All the backups are finished, no failures. Man, nothing's broke.
(Lights go dim. Kevin is looking busy at his desk. Ticking clock sounds. Lights come back on full. The clock reads 8:45am.)
Kevin: (Thinking) Man, Nancy's forty-five minutes late. How typical, she's gonna waltz in here, oblivious to the time, and start demanding I get something done. I just know it. Wait a minute, Kevin. Just be a little more positive, okay? Alright, fine.
(Lights go dim. Kevin is looking busy at his desk. Ticking clock sounds. Lights come back on full. The clock reads 9:15am. Nancy comes waltzing in, oblivious to the time.)
Nancy: Morning, Kevin.
Kevin: Morning, boss.
Nancy: You know I hate that.
Kevin: What, my cubicle?
Nancy: No. I have a name, you know, stop calling me boss.
Kevin: Okay.
Nancy: Okay what?
Kevin: Okay… Nancy.
Nancy: That's better. Now, is anything blown up this morning?
Kevin: No, actually. Everything looks good.
Nancy: That's great. (Starts to leave)
Kevin: Hey, Nancy. I wanted to ask you something.
Nancy: You want to leave early?
Kevin: Well… Yes… Actually.
Nancy: Aren't you taking vacation time next week?
Kevin: Yes, we're heading to the coast to get on a cruise. I was hoping to get an early start today.
Nancy: And you didn't take today off because… (Puts her head down, eying Kevin over her glasses, pausing)
Kevin: Well, all I have are five vacation days.
Nancy: (Still pausing, finally breaking the awkward silence) …well I suppose I can let you leave a little early, but something has come up.
Kevin: (Thinking, looking at the audience) AAAARRRRGGGGGHHH! (Looking back at Nancy) What do you need me to do, boss - I mean Nancy?
Nancy: I have an audit meeting on Monday, and I really need that server inventory report for the auditors.
Kevin: That was supposed to be next month.
Nancy: Your point?
Kevin: I'm almost done with it anyway, so I'll put the finishing touches on and get it to you before lunch.
Nancy: Perfect!
Scene 3
Kevin is at his desk, working fast, glancing from his notebook to his computer and back to his notebook, all the while the constant ticking and tapping of the keyboard. Johnson peeks over his cubicle wall at him. The clock reads 11:15am.
Johnson: Howdy, Neighbor.
Kevin: (Pausing for a moment, finally looking up) Hi, Johnson. What's up?
Johnson: I was just going to ask you the same thing. Looks like your pretty busy. Have something you're trying to finish for Nancy before you can leave today?
Kevin: Of course, what else do you expect?
Johnson: Just thought I'd give you some friendly advice. Nancy is in one of those moods today. Make sure you do a little more than you think she's expecting of you.
Kevin: I'm just about finished. (Hits a key, taps the mouse button, the printer on his desk begins to buzz and whir) There, now it's ready. It'll be fine. I've got everything in there that she asked for. It'll be fine.
Johnson: Okay. (Walks away)
(Kevin picks up the report on his printer and marches down the hall. Suddenly he stops, arms out, balancing himself, he dives behind a potted plant. Bill walks by, talking to himself, and doesn't notice Kevin hiding behind the plant.)
Kevin: (Crawling out from behind the plant and standing back up) Man, that was close. If Bill saw me, I'd be stuck talking to him all day. It's almost lunch time, and if I don't get out of here soon, I'm not gonna dodge the traffic.
(Kevin walks into Nancy's office. Her desk is covered in papers, unorganized and messy. The inbox is spilling off to the side. Her computer monitor has a stack of papers on it as well. The clock reads 11:45am.)
Kevin: Boss - I mean Nancy, I have that report ready for you. (Hands her the report)
Nancy: Great. (Looking over the report) Server names, serial numbers, descriptions, vendors, contact information, specs… looks like it's all here.
Kevin: Well, I did put everything that you asked for in it, and…
Nancy: (Interrupting him) Wait a minute. Where are the asset tag numbers?
Kevin: (Thinking, looking at the audience) AAAARRRRGGGGGHHH! (Looking back at Nancy) Asset tags?
Nancy: (Head down, looking at him over her glasses) Those little white labels, with the company logo on them and a 14 digit number. They're only on every piece of equipment the company owns.
Kevin: I know what they are, Nancy. You just didn't ask for that information for this report…
Nancy: (Interrupting him) Regardless, this report has to have them, and you're going to put that information in it, otherwise it won't match up with the auditors' reports; all they have to go on is asset tag numbers. It all has to match up, Kevin. Without them, you report is useless for this meeting.
Kevin: No problem. (Turns and runs back toward his cubicle)
Scene 4
Kevin is at his desk, the tick-tap of the keyboard louder than before; he glances again from notebook to computer screen and back. The clock reads 2:00pm.
Kevin: Okay, I've got these numbers in, but I need the asset tag information from the servers in our warehouse. I guess I can give Mike a call, since he's out there today. (He fingers the phone list on the wall, picks up the phone and hits the four-digit extension) Hello, Mike.
Mike: (On the phone across stage) Yup.
Kevin: Hey Mike, this is Kevin. I need to…
Mike: (Interrupting him) Kevin! How's it hangin', bud?
Kevin: Oh, I'm fine Mike. I just have this report I have to get…
Mike: Sucks to be you!
Kevin: Seriously, Mike, I was wondering if you could get me the asset tag numbers off the servers out there.
Mike: No problem, man. So, how's you fantasy football team doin'?
Kevin: Not so well, I've lost the last two matchups, but I really need to get this report…
Mike: I'm in first place still, myself. I swear, if this league wasn't full of idiots, I'd maybe find it somewhat of a challenge.
Kevin: Thanks, Mike. Now, about those asset tags…
Mike: Twenty one, fifteen, six, eight, fourteen, seven, nine…
Kevin: Wait. What server is that on?
Mike: Server? Naw these are the numbers my players brought in this week.
Kevin: Mike, I need to get this report done now!
Mike: (Pausing) You have a serious attitude problem, Kev. You know that?
Kevin: Sorry, Mike. I didn't mean to…
Mike: (Interrupting him) Apology accepted. Now, what is it you needed?
Kevin: I need the asset tag information on the servers out there. Do you think you could get those for me?
Mike: No problem.
(Lights go dim. Kevin and Mike continue talking on the phone in the background. Ticking clock sounds. Lights come back on full. The clock reads 2:30pm.)
Kevin: Thanks, Mike. I really appreciate it.
Mike: No problem, bud. Now if you need any advice on your fantasy team, just give me a holler.
Kevin: Will do, Mike. Thanks again. Bye. (Hangs up phone) Okay. Save. Print. (Printer buzzes and whirrs, he grabs the paper off the printer, staples it and heads out the door into the hallway) Oh crud, it's Bill. (He dives behind the potted plant again, but this time Bill sees him)
Bill: Kevin? What are you doing down there?
Kevin: (Pauses) Me? Oh, I uh, thought I saw something. (Crawling out from behind the plant and standing back up) How are you?
Bill: Oh, I'm fine, except my arthritis has started up again. I swear I take more pills than…
Kevin: (Speaking to the audience, Bills voice in the background) Great, I'm gonna have to sit here listening to his stories about what hurts where, who forgot his prescriptions, who he saw at the mall, what he ate for breakfast, and what foods make him mess his drawers. At this rate I'll never get out of here. (Looks at wristwatch) It's already two thirty, and traffic is probably piling up by now. I gotta do something. (Thinks a little, then dances around and addresses Bill) Man, I gotta go. And when you gotta go… well you know. (Runs into the bathroom)
Bill: I do know. (Follows him into the bathroom, talking about various ailments, gripes and politics)
Kevin: (Bursting out of the bathroom door, closing it behind him, grabbing a nearby chair and wedging it under the door handle) There, that should do it.
(Kevin Quickly fixes his hair, brushes off his shirt, looks at the report in his hand and heads to Nancy's office, she is sitting at her desk.)
Kevin: Boss – I mean Nancy, I have that report.
Nancy: Did you get the asset tag information put into that report?
Kevin: Yes ma'am. It's all right here. (Hands her the report)
Nancy: (Quickly eyes the report) Great work, Kevin. (Banging can be heard in the background) What's that noise, Kevin?
Kevin: Yeah, I got all the asset tag information in there. (Directs her attention to the report) You see right here. And I even alternated the rows with shading so you can follow each line across better.
Nancy: Excellent work, Kevin.
Kevin: Thanks, Nancy. I really put a lot of effort into it.
Nancy: Okay, you can leave now, but don't forget to forward your phone to voice mail and turn your email out-of-office notification on.
Kevin: Will do. Thanks! (Quickly walks down the hall, grabbing the chair from under the bathroom door knob, putting it back in place)
(Bill exits the door, looking at the handle the whole time. Scratches his head and takes a closer look.)
Bill: Well I'll be durned. I could have sworn it was locked.
Scene 5
Kevin I sat his desk, putting things away, turning off his computer, and turning off the desk lamp. He picks up the phone and dials. The clock reads 2:45pm.
Kevin: Hello Sweetie.
Donna: Hi, Kevin.
Kevin: Nancy said I can leave now, so I'm about to head out the door.
Donna: That's great. Now, on your way home I need you to stop at the store and pick up some carrot sticks and Ranch dressing for the drive. I have everything packed and… O wait, someone's calling on the other line. (Clicks over)
Kevin: (Waiting patiently, holding the phone between his head and shoulder continues putting things away in his cubicle) Man, I can't wait to get out of here. What's taking so long?
Donna: (Comes back on the line) Kevin.
Kevin: I'm still here.
Donna: That was the travel agency. They said the cruise has been cancelled due to bad weather in the Gulf, and all they can do is give us a discount on a trip next season.
Kevin: AAAARRRRGGGGGHHH! (This time not to the audience)
Donna: (Long pause) Whoa, chill out there, Kevin. That was really your mother. She just called to wish us luck on our trip.
(Lights go dim, the sound of the clock ticking and a spotlight on the clock. The clock reads 3:00pm.)
Characters
Kevin – Main character
Donna – Kevin's wife
Nancy – Kevin's boss
Johnson – Coworker
Mike – Coworker
Bill – Coworker
Scene 1
Kevin has finished getting ready for work and he sits at the table for breakfast, which his wife Donna has prepared for the two of them. The clock on the back wall reads 6:10am.
Kevin: (Thinking) Man, another day. This week has just drug on and on. I am so glad we are leaving for the Caribbean today. I don't think I'm going to be able to get anything done at work today; I should have just taken the day off. And traffic is always the worst on Fridays, everybody's trying to leave town, nobody knows how to merge or use their signals. Man, I'm frustrated already. At least the day is starting out right: Bacon, just the right crispiness, fried eggs all the white is cooked and the yolk is runny enough to dip my toast in, and fresh orange juice to top it off. Pretty soon, all I'm gonna have to do is hang around in the cabin on that big ol' boat, sip fruity drinks and relax. Man, life is great…
(Donna interrupts his thought.)
Donna: So, Kevin, do you think you're going to be able to get off early today so we can get started on the drive to the coast. We board early tomorrow morning, so I'd like to check into the hotel in time to get enough sleep tonight.
Kevin: Sounds like a great plan, honey. I'll have to give it a try, but you know how ornery my boss can be. I'm sure she'll have some ultra-critical-plus-plus-plus job for me to do. Of course it'll be something that could have been done yesterday or even last week, but these things only seem to come up when I want to leave early.
Donna: Don't be so negative, sweetie. Just think, we're gonna have a wonderful time in the Cayman Islands, Playa Del Carmen, the Yucatan. I can't wait to have formal dinners, see the Mayan ruins, see all of that culture, swim in the ocean, work on my tan, listen to great music, see all the shows, maybe spend some time in the casino, and of course spend some much-needed quality time with you…
Kevin: I can't wait to get on that buffet line.
Donna: Excuse me?
Kevin: And spend time with you, of course. That goes without saying.
Donna: It shouldn't.
Kevin: Shouldn't what?
Donna: Go without saying.
Kevin: Gotcha. Right.
Donna: Don't you like it?
Kevin: What?
Donna: Your breakfast.
Kevin: Of course! It's great, thanks!
Kevin kisses her, and heads for the door.
Kevin: I'll see you after work, sweetie.
Donna: Okay, have a good day.
Scene 2
A cubicle decorated with comics, pictures of family members, magazine articles about trucks, and various printed email messages. Everything on the desk is organized neatly. The inbox is empty. The clock on the wall reads 7:30am.
Kevin: (Thinking and clicking at the mouse) Now if I can get all my regular stuff done before Nancy gets in she may let me take off before lunch. All the servers look good. No errors in the logs. No long-running jobs last night. It looks like all the nightly reports printed out just fine. The stats for the day got emailed out to the business analysts. All the backups are finished, no failures. Man, nothing's broke.
(Lights go dim. Kevin is looking busy at his desk. Ticking clock sounds. Lights come back on full. The clock reads 8:45am.)
Kevin: (Thinking) Man, Nancy's forty-five minutes late. How typical, she's gonna waltz in here, oblivious to the time, and start demanding I get something done. I just know it. Wait a minute, Kevin. Just be a little more positive, okay? Alright, fine.
(Lights go dim. Kevin is looking busy at his desk. Ticking clock sounds. Lights come back on full. The clock reads 9:15am. Nancy comes waltzing in, oblivious to the time.)
Nancy: Morning, Kevin.
Kevin: Morning, boss.
Nancy: You know I hate that.
Kevin: What, my cubicle?
Nancy: No. I have a name, you know, stop calling me boss.
Kevin: Okay.
Nancy: Okay what?
Kevin: Okay… Nancy.
Nancy: That's better. Now, is anything blown up this morning?
Kevin: No, actually. Everything looks good.
Nancy: That's great. (Starts to leave)
Kevin: Hey, Nancy. I wanted to ask you something.
Nancy: You want to leave early?
Kevin: Well… Yes… Actually.
Nancy: Aren't you taking vacation time next week?
Kevin: Yes, we're heading to the coast to get on a cruise. I was hoping to get an early start today.
Nancy: And you didn't take today off because… (Puts her head down, eying Kevin over her glasses, pausing)
Kevin: Well, all I have are five vacation days.
Nancy: (Still pausing, finally breaking the awkward silence) …well I suppose I can let you leave a little early, but something has come up.
Kevin: (Thinking, looking at the audience) AAAARRRRGGGGGHHH! (Looking back at Nancy) What do you need me to do, boss - I mean Nancy?
Nancy: I have an audit meeting on Monday, and I really need that server inventory report for the auditors.
Kevin: That was supposed to be next month.
Nancy: Your point?
Kevin: I'm almost done with it anyway, so I'll put the finishing touches on and get it to you before lunch.
Nancy: Perfect!
Scene 3
Kevin is at his desk, working fast, glancing from his notebook to his computer and back to his notebook, all the while the constant ticking and tapping of the keyboard. Johnson peeks over his cubicle wall at him. The clock reads 11:15am.
Johnson: Howdy, Neighbor.
Kevin: (Pausing for a moment, finally looking up) Hi, Johnson. What's up?
Johnson: I was just going to ask you the same thing. Looks like your pretty busy. Have something you're trying to finish for Nancy before you can leave today?
Kevin: Of course, what else do you expect?
Johnson: Just thought I'd give you some friendly advice. Nancy is in one of those moods today. Make sure you do a little more than you think she's expecting of you.
Kevin: I'm just about finished. (Hits a key, taps the mouse button, the printer on his desk begins to buzz and whir) There, now it's ready. It'll be fine. I've got everything in there that she asked for. It'll be fine.
Johnson: Okay. (Walks away)
(Kevin picks up the report on his printer and marches down the hall. Suddenly he stops, arms out, balancing himself, he dives behind a potted plant. Bill walks by, talking to himself, and doesn't notice Kevin hiding behind the plant.)
Kevin: (Crawling out from behind the plant and standing back up) Man, that was close. If Bill saw me, I'd be stuck talking to him all day. It's almost lunch time, and if I don't get out of here soon, I'm not gonna dodge the traffic.
(Kevin walks into Nancy's office. Her desk is covered in papers, unorganized and messy. The inbox is spilling off to the side. Her computer monitor has a stack of papers on it as well. The clock reads 11:45am.)
Kevin: Boss - I mean Nancy, I have that report ready for you. (Hands her the report)
Nancy: Great. (Looking over the report) Server names, serial numbers, descriptions, vendors, contact information, specs… looks like it's all here.
Kevin: Well, I did put everything that you asked for in it, and…
Nancy: (Interrupting him) Wait a minute. Where are the asset tag numbers?
Kevin: (Thinking, looking at the audience) AAAARRRRGGGGGHHH! (Looking back at Nancy) Asset tags?
Nancy: (Head down, looking at him over her glasses) Those little white labels, with the company logo on them and a 14 digit number. They're only on every piece of equipment the company owns.
Kevin: I know what they are, Nancy. You just didn't ask for that information for this report…
Nancy: (Interrupting him) Regardless, this report has to have them, and you're going to put that information in it, otherwise it won't match up with the auditors' reports; all they have to go on is asset tag numbers. It all has to match up, Kevin. Without them, you report is useless for this meeting.
Kevin: No problem. (Turns and runs back toward his cubicle)
Scene 4
Kevin is at his desk, the tick-tap of the keyboard louder than before; he glances again from notebook to computer screen and back. The clock reads 2:00pm.
Kevin: Okay, I've got these numbers in, but I need the asset tag information from the servers in our warehouse. I guess I can give Mike a call, since he's out there today. (He fingers the phone list on the wall, picks up the phone and hits the four-digit extension) Hello, Mike.
Mike: (On the phone across stage) Yup.
Kevin: Hey Mike, this is Kevin. I need to…
Mike: (Interrupting him) Kevin! How's it hangin', bud?
Kevin: Oh, I'm fine Mike. I just have this report I have to get…
Mike: Sucks to be you!
Kevin: Seriously, Mike, I was wondering if you could get me the asset tag numbers off the servers out there.
Mike: No problem, man. So, how's you fantasy football team doin'?
Kevin: Not so well, I've lost the last two matchups, but I really need to get this report…
Mike: I'm in first place still, myself. I swear, if this league wasn't full of idiots, I'd maybe find it somewhat of a challenge.
Kevin: Thanks, Mike. Now, about those asset tags…
Mike: Twenty one, fifteen, six, eight, fourteen, seven, nine…
Kevin: Wait. What server is that on?
Mike: Server? Naw these are the numbers my players brought in this week.
Kevin: Mike, I need to get this report done now!
Mike: (Pausing) You have a serious attitude problem, Kev. You know that?
Kevin: Sorry, Mike. I didn't mean to…
Mike: (Interrupting him) Apology accepted. Now, what is it you needed?
Kevin: I need the asset tag information on the servers out there. Do you think you could get those for me?
Mike: No problem.
(Lights go dim. Kevin and Mike continue talking on the phone in the background. Ticking clock sounds. Lights come back on full. The clock reads 2:30pm.)
Kevin: Thanks, Mike. I really appreciate it.
Mike: No problem, bud. Now if you need any advice on your fantasy team, just give me a holler.
Kevin: Will do, Mike. Thanks again. Bye. (Hangs up phone) Okay. Save. Print. (Printer buzzes and whirrs, he grabs the paper off the printer, staples it and heads out the door into the hallway) Oh crud, it's Bill. (He dives behind the potted plant again, but this time Bill sees him)
Bill: Kevin? What are you doing down there?
Kevin: (Pauses) Me? Oh, I uh, thought I saw something. (Crawling out from behind the plant and standing back up) How are you?
Bill: Oh, I'm fine, except my arthritis has started up again. I swear I take more pills than…
Kevin: (Speaking to the audience, Bills voice in the background) Great, I'm gonna have to sit here listening to his stories about what hurts where, who forgot his prescriptions, who he saw at the mall, what he ate for breakfast, and what foods make him mess his drawers. At this rate I'll never get out of here. (Looks at wristwatch) It's already two thirty, and traffic is probably piling up by now. I gotta do something. (Thinks a little, then dances around and addresses Bill) Man, I gotta go. And when you gotta go… well you know. (Runs into the bathroom)
Bill: I do know. (Follows him into the bathroom, talking about various ailments, gripes and politics)
Kevin: (Bursting out of the bathroom door, closing it behind him, grabbing a nearby chair and wedging it under the door handle) There, that should do it.
(Kevin Quickly fixes his hair, brushes off his shirt, looks at the report in his hand and heads to Nancy's office, she is sitting at her desk.)
Kevin: Boss – I mean Nancy, I have that report.
Nancy: Did you get the asset tag information put into that report?
Kevin: Yes ma'am. It's all right here. (Hands her the report)
Nancy: (Quickly eyes the report) Great work, Kevin. (Banging can be heard in the background) What's that noise, Kevin?
Kevin: Yeah, I got all the asset tag information in there. (Directs her attention to the report) You see right here. And I even alternated the rows with shading so you can follow each line across better.
Nancy: Excellent work, Kevin.
Kevin: Thanks, Nancy. I really put a lot of effort into it.
Nancy: Okay, you can leave now, but don't forget to forward your phone to voice mail and turn your email out-of-office notification on.
Kevin: Will do. Thanks! (Quickly walks down the hall, grabbing the chair from under the bathroom door knob, putting it back in place)
(Bill exits the door, looking at the handle the whole time. Scratches his head and takes a closer look.)
Bill: Well I'll be durned. I could have sworn it was locked.
Scene 5
Kevin I sat his desk, putting things away, turning off his computer, and turning off the desk lamp. He picks up the phone and dials. The clock reads 2:45pm.
Kevin: Hello Sweetie.
Donna: Hi, Kevin.
Kevin: Nancy said I can leave now, so I'm about to head out the door.
Donna: That's great. Now, on your way home I need you to stop at the store and pick up some carrot sticks and Ranch dressing for the drive. I have everything packed and… O wait, someone's calling on the other line. (Clicks over)
Kevin: (Waiting patiently, holding the phone between his head and shoulder continues putting things away in his cubicle) Man, I can't wait to get out of here. What's taking so long?
Donna: (Comes back on the line) Kevin.
Kevin: I'm still here.
Donna: That was the travel agency. They said the cruise has been cancelled due to bad weather in the Gulf, and all they can do is give us a discount on a trip next season.
Kevin: AAAARRRRGGGGGHHH! (This time not to the audience)
Donna: (Long pause) Whoa, chill out there, Kevin. That was really your mother. She just called to wish us luck on our trip.
(Lights go dim, the sound of the clock ticking and a spotlight on the clock. The clock reads 3:00pm.)
Fence Mending - A short story by me
Fence Mending
It was especially foggy that early September morning. Five o'clock sharp showed up much too early that day, and Harrison's mind was even less enthusiastic about waking than his body was about being wrenched from its resting place. On a typical morning, he would energetically leap from bed, dive into the shower, shivering for a moment while waiting for the water to warm up, towel off, brush his teeth and dress himself in under twenty minutes. He found this routine to be the best way to keep him alert and awake throughout the day, but this morning was somewhat atypical. Having stayed up late the night before comforting two cranky little princesses, quieting the dogs who still had not established the pecking order, and running short errands for his eight-month pregnant wife, Harrison had failed to attain what he would normally describe as "a good night's rest." Of course these activities were something he would normally do, but this particular night they were spaced just right to keep him from reaching dreamland.
Tearing his weary head from the feather pillow, Harrison reached over to silence the strategically annoying alarm. Although there were five buttons on the top of his alarm clock, he always hit the right one – but not this morning. Unfortunately, Harrison hit the weather-band radio button, which in times of inclement weather will provide the necessary meteorological information and forecasts form the local news station, but this morning was not one of those times. This morning's report from the weather-band was a loud fuzzy noise, one that often accompanies a scrambled black and white image at the end of a VHS tape, which the inventors of the video cassette player thought, in their infinite wisdom, would be much better than a blank screen and silence. This noise, of course, was about twice the volume of a mostly Texan crowd after a Texas Longhorns' forty-two to seventeen stomping of the Oklahoma Sooners. Since it was still five o'clock in the morning, this just would not do, but it took a good minute before Harrison was able to come to his senses enough to silence the racket.
Harrison was finally able to find his way through his oddly darker-than-normal room, stubbing his toe once on a laundry basket and again on the slightly-ajar bathroom door, to the shower. As Murphy's Law dictates, it took longer this morning for the water to warm up, but that was probably due to the fact that the water pressure was about half its normal strength. Standing in position for the cool water to drip onto his head, Harrison rubbed the sleep from his eyes and began to imagine how the rest of his day would go; the pressure being slightly less than strong enough to thoroughly wash the shampoo from his hair was probably a good indicator.
Getting out the door about ten minutes later than usual, Harrison killed his truck twice while backing out of his parking spot. He had been meaning to fix the idling problem with it for quite some time now, so the fact that it died twice was not abnormal, though it did add to the mounting frustration of the day. It did not help when the traffic, which he normally misses due to the fact that he leaves so early, caught him right in the middle. It took him a good half hour longer to get to work than he accounted for, with the traffic along with the aforementioned fog. This in itself was not much of a problem, since he usually gets to work at least half an hour earlier than everyone else, but of course not today; everyone else decided to come in early this particular day.
The work day, besides the usual unanticipated problems with servers, failed maintenance jobs and scheduled tasks, and typical modification requests, went by rather smoothly up until lunchtime. A call from his wife prompted Harrison to ask his boss for permission to leave early, which was a difficult situation to be in considering he had arrived late, but his boss was sympathetic and gave him the rest of the day off to handle his domestic issues.
A few years prior to this particular day, Harrison's father in law, who lives less than a mile away in the same rural community as his little family, had purchased some beef cattle. Beef cattle require very little maintenance, food and water being about the only things that require daily attention, and the idea of owning cattle was attractive to Harrison and his father in law, as well as his two brothers in law, who happened to live with their wives, Harrison's wife's sisters, and families on either side of his house. The place for these cattle to reside, of course, was on his father in law's property, which surrounded the three parcels of land on which the three families lived. This arrangement was not problematic. The cattle feed was kept in Harrison's garage, the water troughs were hooked up to the well behind his house, the hay was kept along his four hundred foot driveway. A flatbed trailer for moving equipment, an enclosed trailer for hauling calves to auction, and a red bail buggy, a large fork on wheels used for stabbing and transporting four foot round bales, were all kept on Harrison's lawn. If someone happened to be driving by the property, he would likely assume, judging by the equipment, that Harrison was the owner of these cattle. This was the exact assumption by the Sheriff's office or passers-by whenever a cow was out and wandering along the road late at night, causing general trouble with the passing traffic, which wasn't too much of an inconvenience except when it happened at three in the morning.
On this day, the one in which nothing seemed to be going right for Harrison , some of the cows had in fact gotten out, though not in the road this time; the cattle had found their way into the neighbor's hay field.
Harrison's other neighbor, Mr. Noble, was a horse trainer. So far, the contact that had been shared between Harrison and Mr. Noble did not result in the most positive of relations. On the first occasion, Mr. Noble, an older skin-and-bone gentleman with a foul mouth, had presented himself at Harrison's door early one Saturday, and politely, besides the repeated profanities, informed him that he would shoot his dog the next time it bothered one of his horses. Not impressed, Harrison informed Mr. Noble that he appreciated neither the language, nor the threat, and that he would not speak with him unless he calmed down, changed his tone, and apologized. Surprisingly this did not settle well with Mr. Noble, and he promptly left, in a huff. Another such encounter was at the adjoining fence line between the two properties, at which time Harrison was putting up electric cattle wire to keep the herd inside the fence. Mr. Noble did not like the idea that his show horses may be shocked by this wire, but amazingly he didn't utter a single profanity in the conversation. Harrison explained to Mr. Noble that the electric wire was possibly the only way to keep the cattle out of his yard, given the fact that the horse trainer had removed the barbed wire and replaced it with smooth horse wire. Unlike barbed wire, which gives an unpleasant sensation to cattle, horse wire has no barbs and produces a massage-like effect on the backs and bellies of cattle as they pass through. Not only are the cattle enticed by the green grass on the other side of the fence, but also the very act of crossing over was similar to a trip to the health spa for these bovine beauties, minus the mud bath unless they decided to take a dip in the pond before returning. Despite the benefits of the hot wire, Mr. Noble was not happy, even though it worked… at least until this unfortunate day.
The cows that escaped on this particular day were not trotting along the road; they were in Mr. Noble's field. The weather the previous week had produced strong straight line winds, which had leveled the well house on the property, which of course also provided electricity for the hot wire. Cows are either extraordinarily smart, or extremely stupid. The cows either noticed that they no longer heard the hum of the wire and had stopped emitting electromagnetic waves, or they simply weren't getting shocked anymore and just pushed right through to the green field. This time not one or two cows had entered the field, but rather the entire herd, and Mr. Noble was cussing up a storm. Of course his fence was demolished, which will happen any time fourteen twelve hundred pound animals push through one, and he was determined to vent his frustration on someone or something. Being somewhat of a gentleman, he did not do so when Harrison's wife arrived on the scene. Fortunately for Mr. Noble, he kept it in and did not have to endure the wrath of an eight months pregnant mother of two toddlers.
Before Harrison arrived, his wife and Mr. Noble were able to get the two bulls into the corral and the rest of the cows back through the massage parlor. Stormy, Harrison's dog, was a tremendous asset in convincing the cattle which way they needed to go. The little mixed-breed mutt, whom Harrison picked up in a Wal-Mart parking lot one day, had become a great little cow dog, yapping and nipping at heels to get them moving and directing them into the general area that they wanted them. The bulls, however, were not too fond of little Stormy. They would charge and kick at the dog as much as they could, trying to keep him away. Mr. Noble decided to tie him to a fencepost to keep him form upsetting the bull more, but Stormy succeeded in getting loose every time until Harrison's wife held him down.
When Harrison arrived, one bull was already in his trailer and his wife was getting ready to drive him up to the auction house. The once beautiful sire was bloodied and cut from stem to stern. He had been through the barbed wire corral, metal gates and the doors of the trailer so many times that it was obvious that he would bring nothing at auction, but once one of these guys knows he can push people around, it's time to get rid of him. Mr. Noble was tired and more irritable than normal when Harrison came to talk with him about what to do with the other bull, but before he could say a word, Harrison discovered why Mr. Noble had always been so unapproachable and bitter.
Mr. Noble's wife came up the path, and Harrison's wife imagined that this pleasant old woman would bring some sanity and calm to the situation. Much to everyone's surprise, besides Mr. Noble's, like a fire kindled with starter logs and doused with gasoline Mrs. Noble began a tantrum unequaled by any three year old since time began. Somewhere in her diatribe it could be discerned that she was upset about all the time her husband had to spend getting the se cows off of her property, how stupid Harrison and his wife must have been to get involved with a cattle venture when they obviously knew noting about the trade, and that they were the worst neighbors that she had ever become acquainted with. She also breathed out a threatening about having consulted with a lawyer, and she stated that she intended to sue for damages and lost productivity. Her harangue touched on just about anything and everything that could possibly be going on, not even her husband was spared the radiation of the blast. Every other word from her mouth was so full of venom and anger that it promised a thorough berating to any one that tampered with or even approached her.
Harrison and his wife thought it best not to add any more fuel to the fire by telling her that it was the Nobles' horse wire that was letting the cows through the fence. Nor did they tell her that she was obviously not being honest about having a lawyer ready to sue given the fact that they lived in a free range county, which legally put the responsibility on her if she wished for the cows to not be on her property. Any lawyer in the area would know that. The fact that she obviously didn't know what she was talking about did not deter from the reality that she was likely to tear apart anyone who argued with her at that point in time.
Much like a crowd backs away from a bonfire as soon as it begins to singe off their eyebrows, Harrison, his wife, and Mr. Noble all went back to work on fixing the cattle situation, extra careful to remain expressionless, so as not to tempt the wrath of this woman. Harrison's wife drove the bull to the auction house and dropped him off. Mr. Noble and Harrison quickly led the other bull out of the corral and back through the fence line. Mrs. Noble walked back up the path to her house, and Harrison thought he could see a trail of smoke following like a trail behind her and the grass in front bending out of her way to avoid the flames.
After the work was done, Harrison and his brothers in law began the task of repairing the fence where the cows had driven through. Mr. Noble paid a visit and voiced his concerns about how he believed it would not be strong enough and how it may hurt his horses if they messed with it. These were the same excuses he gave every time, but now they knew the real motivation behind his concerns, and they responded to his apprehension with a sympathetic look and reassured him that they would do what they could to keep it from happening again. In the future, the complaints from Mr. Noble were not as frequent, and had lost much of their intensity.
The next day didn't seem as foggy. Harrison got the rest he needed, as usual. He woke up with an enthusiastic spring in his step, and the water pressure was just right. The drive to work was pleasant, and he arrived on time, as expected. All was right in his world; at least it was today.
It was especially foggy that early September morning. Five o'clock sharp showed up much too early that day, and Harrison's mind was even less enthusiastic about waking than his body was about being wrenched from its resting place. On a typical morning, he would energetically leap from bed, dive into the shower, shivering for a moment while waiting for the water to warm up, towel off, brush his teeth and dress himself in under twenty minutes. He found this routine to be the best way to keep him alert and awake throughout the day, but this morning was somewhat atypical. Having stayed up late the night before comforting two cranky little princesses, quieting the dogs who still had not established the pecking order, and running short errands for his eight-month pregnant wife, Harrison had failed to attain what he would normally describe as "a good night's rest." Of course these activities were something he would normally do, but this particular night they were spaced just right to keep him from reaching dreamland.
Tearing his weary head from the feather pillow, Harrison reached over to silence the strategically annoying alarm. Although there were five buttons on the top of his alarm clock, he always hit the right one – but not this morning. Unfortunately, Harrison hit the weather-band radio button, which in times of inclement weather will provide the necessary meteorological information and forecasts form the local news station, but this morning was not one of those times. This morning's report from the weather-band was a loud fuzzy noise, one that often accompanies a scrambled black and white image at the end of a VHS tape, which the inventors of the video cassette player thought, in their infinite wisdom, would be much better than a blank screen and silence. This noise, of course, was about twice the volume of a mostly Texan crowd after a Texas Longhorns' forty-two to seventeen stomping of the Oklahoma Sooners. Since it was still five o'clock in the morning, this just would not do, but it took a good minute before Harrison was able to come to his senses enough to silence the racket.
Harrison was finally able to find his way through his oddly darker-than-normal room, stubbing his toe once on a laundry basket and again on the slightly-ajar bathroom door, to the shower. As Murphy's Law dictates, it took longer this morning for the water to warm up, but that was probably due to the fact that the water pressure was about half its normal strength. Standing in position for the cool water to drip onto his head, Harrison rubbed the sleep from his eyes and began to imagine how the rest of his day would go; the pressure being slightly less than strong enough to thoroughly wash the shampoo from his hair was probably a good indicator.
Getting out the door about ten minutes later than usual, Harrison killed his truck twice while backing out of his parking spot. He had been meaning to fix the idling problem with it for quite some time now, so the fact that it died twice was not abnormal, though it did add to the mounting frustration of the day. It did not help when the traffic, which he normally misses due to the fact that he leaves so early, caught him right in the middle. It took him a good half hour longer to get to work than he accounted for, with the traffic along with the aforementioned fog. This in itself was not much of a problem, since he usually gets to work at least half an hour earlier than everyone else, but of course not today; everyone else decided to come in early this particular day.
The work day, besides the usual unanticipated problems with servers, failed maintenance jobs and scheduled tasks, and typical modification requests, went by rather smoothly up until lunchtime. A call from his wife prompted Harrison to ask his boss for permission to leave early, which was a difficult situation to be in considering he had arrived late, but his boss was sympathetic and gave him the rest of the day off to handle his domestic issues.
A few years prior to this particular day, Harrison's father in law, who lives less than a mile away in the same rural community as his little family, had purchased some beef cattle. Beef cattle require very little maintenance, food and water being about the only things that require daily attention, and the idea of owning cattle was attractive to Harrison and his father in law, as well as his two brothers in law, who happened to live with their wives, Harrison's wife's sisters, and families on either side of his house. The place for these cattle to reside, of course, was on his father in law's property, which surrounded the three parcels of land on which the three families lived. This arrangement was not problematic. The cattle feed was kept in Harrison's garage, the water troughs were hooked up to the well behind his house, the hay was kept along his four hundred foot driveway. A flatbed trailer for moving equipment, an enclosed trailer for hauling calves to auction, and a red bail buggy, a large fork on wheels used for stabbing and transporting four foot round bales, were all kept on Harrison's lawn. If someone happened to be driving by the property, he would likely assume, judging by the equipment, that Harrison was the owner of these cattle. This was the exact assumption by the Sheriff's office or passers-by whenever a cow was out and wandering along the road late at night, causing general trouble with the passing traffic, which wasn't too much of an inconvenience except when it happened at three in the morning.
On this day, the one in which nothing seemed to be going right for Harrison , some of the cows had in fact gotten out, though not in the road this time; the cattle had found their way into the neighbor's hay field.
Harrison's other neighbor, Mr. Noble, was a horse trainer. So far, the contact that had been shared between Harrison and Mr. Noble did not result in the most positive of relations. On the first occasion, Mr. Noble, an older skin-and-bone gentleman with a foul mouth, had presented himself at Harrison's door early one Saturday, and politely, besides the repeated profanities, informed him that he would shoot his dog the next time it bothered one of his horses. Not impressed, Harrison informed Mr. Noble that he appreciated neither the language, nor the threat, and that he would not speak with him unless he calmed down, changed his tone, and apologized. Surprisingly this did not settle well with Mr. Noble, and he promptly left, in a huff. Another such encounter was at the adjoining fence line between the two properties, at which time Harrison was putting up electric cattle wire to keep the herd inside the fence. Mr. Noble did not like the idea that his show horses may be shocked by this wire, but amazingly he didn't utter a single profanity in the conversation. Harrison explained to Mr. Noble that the electric wire was possibly the only way to keep the cattle out of his yard, given the fact that the horse trainer had removed the barbed wire and replaced it with smooth horse wire. Unlike barbed wire, which gives an unpleasant sensation to cattle, horse wire has no barbs and produces a massage-like effect on the backs and bellies of cattle as they pass through. Not only are the cattle enticed by the green grass on the other side of the fence, but also the very act of crossing over was similar to a trip to the health spa for these bovine beauties, minus the mud bath unless they decided to take a dip in the pond before returning. Despite the benefits of the hot wire, Mr. Noble was not happy, even though it worked… at least until this unfortunate day.
The cows that escaped on this particular day were not trotting along the road; they were in Mr. Noble's field. The weather the previous week had produced strong straight line winds, which had leveled the well house on the property, which of course also provided electricity for the hot wire. Cows are either extraordinarily smart, or extremely stupid. The cows either noticed that they no longer heard the hum of the wire and had stopped emitting electromagnetic waves, or they simply weren't getting shocked anymore and just pushed right through to the green field. This time not one or two cows had entered the field, but rather the entire herd, and Mr. Noble was cussing up a storm. Of course his fence was demolished, which will happen any time fourteen twelve hundred pound animals push through one, and he was determined to vent his frustration on someone or something. Being somewhat of a gentleman, he did not do so when Harrison's wife arrived on the scene. Fortunately for Mr. Noble, he kept it in and did not have to endure the wrath of an eight months pregnant mother of two toddlers.
Before Harrison arrived, his wife and Mr. Noble were able to get the two bulls into the corral and the rest of the cows back through the massage parlor. Stormy, Harrison's dog, was a tremendous asset in convincing the cattle which way they needed to go. The little mixed-breed mutt, whom Harrison picked up in a Wal-Mart parking lot one day, had become a great little cow dog, yapping and nipping at heels to get them moving and directing them into the general area that they wanted them. The bulls, however, were not too fond of little Stormy. They would charge and kick at the dog as much as they could, trying to keep him away. Mr. Noble decided to tie him to a fencepost to keep him form upsetting the bull more, but Stormy succeeded in getting loose every time until Harrison's wife held him down.
When Harrison arrived, one bull was already in his trailer and his wife was getting ready to drive him up to the auction house. The once beautiful sire was bloodied and cut from stem to stern. He had been through the barbed wire corral, metal gates and the doors of the trailer so many times that it was obvious that he would bring nothing at auction, but once one of these guys knows he can push people around, it's time to get rid of him. Mr. Noble was tired and more irritable than normal when Harrison came to talk with him about what to do with the other bull, but before he could say a word, Harrison discovered why Mr. Noble had always been so unapproachable and bitter.
Mr. Noble's wife came up the path, and Harrison's wife imagined that this pleasant old woman would bring some sanity and calm to the situation. Much to everyone's surprise, besides Mr. Noble's, like a fire kindled with starter logs and doused with gasoline Mrs. Noble began a tantrum unequaled by any three year old since time began. Somewhere in her diatribe it could be discerned that she was upset about all the time her husband had to spend getting the se cows off of her property, how stupid Harrison and his wife must have been to get involved with a cattle venture when they obviously knew noting about the trade, and that they were the worst neighbors that she had ever become acquainted with. She also breathed out a threatening about having consulted with a lawyer, and she stated that she intended to sue for damages and lost productivity. Her harangue touched on just about anything and everything that could possibly be going on, not even her husband was spared the radiation of the blast. Every other word from her mouth was so full of venom and anger that it promised a thorough berating to any one that tampered with or even approached her.
Harrison and his wife thought it best not to add any more fuel to the fire by telling her that it was the Nobles' horse wire that was letting the cows through the fence. Nor did they tell her that she was obviously not being honest about having a lawyer ready to sue given the fact that they lived in a free range county, which legally put the responsibility on her if she wished for the cows to not be on her property. Any lawyer in the area would know that. The fact that she obviously didn't know what she was talking about did not deter from the reality that she was likely to tear apart anyone who argued with her at that point in time.
Much like a crowd backs away from a bonfire as soon as it begins to singe off their eyebrows, Harrison, his wife, and Mr. Noble all went back to work on fixing the cattle situation, extra careful to remain expressionless, so as not to tempt the wrath of this woman. Harrison's wife drove the bull to the auction house and dropped him off. Mr. Noble and Harrison quickly led the other bull out of the corral and back through the fence line. Mrs. Noble walked back up the path to her house, and Harrison thought he could see a trail of smoke following like a trail behind her and the grass in front bending out of her way to avoid the flames.
After the work was done, Harrison and his brothers in law began the task of repairing the fence where the cows had driven through. Mr. Noble paid a visit and voiced his concerns about how he believed it would not be strong enough and how it may hurt his horses if they messed with it. These were the same excuses he gave every time, but now they knew the real motivation behind his concerns, and they responded to his apprehension with a sympathetic look and reassured him that they would do what they could to keep it from happening again. In the future, the complaints from Mr. Noble were not as frequent, and had lost much of their intensity.
The next day didn't seem as foggy. Harrison got the rest he needed, as usual. He woke up with an enthusiastic spring in his step, and the water pressure was just right. The drive to work was pleasant, and he arrived on time, as expected. All was right in his world; at least it was today.
2005-11-07
Trupolitik's Blog. Check it out.
Alliance of Trupolitik
Trupolitik has really done his research here.
Islam is a real thret here and abroad, and we need to remain vigilant in protecting our free society. France is seeing the negative effects of appeasement now.
Trupolitik has really done his research here.
Islam is a real thret here and abroad, and we need to remain vigilant in protecting our free society. France is seeing the negative effects of appeasement now.
2005-11-04
Build a wall on our borders? Remove birthright citizenship?
GOP mulls ending birthright citizenship - The Washington Times
Odds are this will never happen.
One can dream, though...
This loophole has been used to circumvent our immigration laws for far too long, and our borders are far too porous. If congress has the guts to pass something like this, it will be a proud day for the USA.
Odds are this will never happen.
One can dream, though...
This loophole has been used to circumvent our immigration laws for far too long, and our borders are far too porous. If congress has the guts to pass something like this, it will be a proud day for the USA.
The Work He Had Begun - A short poem by me
The Work He Had Begun
The wire reared back
And bit him on the arm
Its fangs tearing into his soft elbow
A two-inch gash, almost to the bone
Dripping steaming strength onto the ground
Barely even wincing from the strike
He carried on the work he had begun.
Stopping to touch or clean the wound
Would have merely made his mind forget his mission:
To tighten, straighten, string and clip the outer line
He wiped the dust and sweat from off his face
The clouds were coming in quite close
Taunting him, daring him
To finish up the work he had begun.
This city boy was not made for this abuse
His limbs and joints all aching
His frame shook from the strain and stress
Despite the rain beating back his every move
This stranger to that labor trudged on
If he didn’t do it, nobody else would
And it had to be done, the work he had begun.
The wire reared back
And bit him on the arm
Its fangs tearing into his soft elbow
A two-inch gash, almost to the bone
Dripping steaming strength onto the ground
Barely even wincing from the strike
He carried on the work he had begun.
Stopping to touch or clean the wound
Would have merely made his mind forget his mission:
To tighten, straighten, string and clip the outer line
He wiped the dust and sweat from off his face
The clouds were coming in quite close
Taunting him, daring him
To finish up the work he had begun.
This city boy was not made for this abuse
His limbs and joints all aching
His frame shook from the strain and stress
Despite the rain beating back his every move
This stranger to that labor trudged on
If he didn’t do it, nobody else would
And it had to be done, the work he had begun.
Human Cloning - A research project by me
Human Cloning
On July 5th, 1996, Dolly the sheep was born. She was not an ordinary sheep, though; she was a clone. Dolly was conceived by removing DNA from a frozen adult sheep cell and inserting it into an egg from which all DNA had been removed, making the new animal genetically identical to the DNA donor. This process is known as somatic cell nuclear transfer[1]. Since Dolly’s birth, the practice of cloning has been widely debated, especially when the possibility of human experimentation is involved.
Proponents of human cloning cite many reasons for further research and experimentation. Science could possibly better understand the development of humans during the early stages of gestation. Perhaps some genetic diseases could be eliminated in the future through reproductive engineering. Many scientists also believe that essential organs can be created that will not be rejected by transplant recipients if the organ was cloned from the recipient’s own somatic cell. The potential medical advancements from cloning research can seem limitless when the possibility for organ generation is considered.[2]
Opponents of human cloning state different concerns mostly regarding ethics and morality. The prospect of human manufacture can lead to the devaluation in the sanctity of life, since more can be made if some are lost. Experimentation is likely to result in the deaths of embryos, which they believe are human lives. Scientists also do not know enough about the long-term effects on organs or people created in such a way, and unnecessary disease or death is likely. Should people or organs be created with the potential for serious debilitating abnormality? Many people believe the answer is no.[3]
February 14th, 2003, Dolly the sheep was prematurely put to sleep. Preliminary reports showed that she may have been aging faster than normal, and arthritis had set in.1 The company that created Dolly had since gone out of business, and tests were inconclusive as to whether these symptoms were a result of the cloning technique.
By this time the controversy over cloning had settled down for many reasons. The process was extremely expensive, many countries had outlawed the practice of human cloning, and without an immediate need cloned people or organs there was not much incentive for the investment.
As independent scientists put time and money into cloning research, new developments and controversy are likely to arise. Proponents will see the limitless capability for good, and opponents will see just the opposite. Who knows what the future holds for human cloning?
[1] http://www.actionbioscience.org/biotech/Primer
[2] http://www.globalchange.com/clonenews.htm
[3] http://www.dnapolicy.org/genetics/cloning.jhtml
Commute - An English Sonnet by me
Commute
While sitting in the jam for most the day,
I see the bottleneck begin to clear.
But on the shoulder speeding up my way,
A hasty driver passes from the rear.
His horn a crowbar prying at the line,
He clears a space for him inside the pack.
Ignoring half a million warning signs,
He pushes all the others further back.
Perhaps projecting purely to provoke,
He slams his brakes for those who sound protest.
He swerves at one, whose older truck was broke,
His heart is like a stone inside his chest.
He made the office lot with time to spare,
But if he made the rest all late… why care?
The Mormon Battalion - Research paper by me
The Mormon Battalion
On 6 April 1830, the American prophet Joseph Smith officially organized the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, otherwise known as the Mormon Church. Due to peculiarities about the religion and those who practiced, much persecution was brought upon the Mormons early on. From the faith’s onset, members were forcibly relocated on several occasions from as far east as upstate New York, to central Illinois and eventually as far west as present-day Utah and California, during which time their beloved prophet, Joseph, was murdered while being held unlawfully in a jail in Carthage, Missouri. This treatment, however discouraging, neither hurt their patriotism, nor diminished their sense of duty to country.
In 1846, the United States Army’s need for assistance and military manpower during the Mexican War became urgent.[1] Though Polk and his cabinet were not supportive of Brigham Young and his followers, they recognized that the Mormons could fill a much needed gap in the war with Mexico. California was sure to be a key battle site of the war and Polk needed to find a way to get troops there quickly. The Mormons were already over halfway there - several hundred of them were camped along the Missouri River near present day Omaha, Nebraska. If a battalion of men could be pulled from their numbers, this force could march to California quickly and inexpensively. Polk ordered Secretary of War, William L. March to authorize Col. (later General) Stephen W. Kearney, Commander of the Army of the West, to enlist a battalion of 500 Mormon men. Captain James Allen was ordered to proceed to the Mormon Camps in Iowa to recruit five companies of 75 to 100 men each. The Mormons had many reasons to be reluctant to enlist: They had received no protection from persecution and mob action in Missouri and Illinois. Their families were destitute and spread over a wide area, and they had hundreds of miles of hostile Indian Territory to cross. They worried how their families would suffer in the bitter plains winter, and of course, the Mormons had particularly close family ties and were concerned about protection for their families located on the western frontier. [2] The new prophet of the Mormon Church, Brigham Young, was called upon to decide whether or not to encourage the enlistment of members into the army. Young wrote that the request was both “from above” and “for our good”. Five companies totaling over 500 men were mustered in at Council Bluffs, Iowa on 16 July 1846. There were 32 women, of which 20 were laundresses hired at private's pay that left with the Battalion. President Brigham Young told them:
"Brethren, you will be blessed, if you will live for those blessings which you have been taught to live for. The Mormon Battalion will be held in honorable remembrance to the latest generation; and I will prophesy that the children of those who have been in the army, in defense of their country, will grow up and bless their fathers for what they did at that time. And men and nations will rise up and bless the men who went in that Battalion. These are my feelings in brief respecting the company of men known as the Mormon Battalion. When you consider the blessings that are laid upon you, will you not live for them? As the Lord lives, if you will but live up to your privileges, you will never be forgotten, without end, but you will be had in honorable remembrance, for ever and ever."[3]
After the enlistment of five companies of Mormon men, Captain James Allen was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. Under his direction 541 soldiers, 35 women, and 42 children began their march to Fort Leavenworth on 21 July 1846. Before they left, the officers, all of whom had been selected by Church leaders, were promised that their lives would be spared if they remained faithful. Sergeant William Hyde reported that they were charged “to remember their prayers, to see that the name of Deity was revered, and that virtue and cleanliness were strictly observed. [The troops were instructed] to treat all men with kindness… and never take life when it could be avoided.”[4] After an eleven-day, two hundred mile trek along the east side of the Missouri River, the battalion crossed over to Fort Leavenworth on 1 August 1846.
At Leavenworth, they were outfitted with supplies, guns, and forty-two dollars per man as clothing money for the year. The paymaster at the fort was startled when every man was able to sign his name on the payroll. Only a third of the volunteers he had previously paid could read or write. The members of the battalion sent a large portion of their money back home to their families to help in their trek across the plains to the west. General Stephen Kearney’s regiment had already embarked in June toward Santa Fe to conquer New Mexico for the United States. The Mormon Battalion was to follow after him and, if necessary, to aid his operations. However, the battalion remained at Leavenworth for two, where the hot weather brought illness to many of the men, particularly with fever. Lt. Col. Allen, who was unable to accompany them when they took up their march due to illness, died two weeks later. The Mormon men were saddened by the news, since they had grown to admire this benevolent officer.[5] Although they desired for Captain Jefferson Hunt, who assumed command when Allen grew ill, to remain their as their leader, First Lieutenant A. J. Smith of the regular army was already en route to assume command. “The appointment of Smith, even before his character was known, caused a greater gloom throughout the command than the death of Colonel Allen had,” wrote battalion historian, Daniel Tyler.[6]
Setting a rapid pace for Santa Fe after taking command of the battalion, Lieutenant Smith desired to overtake General Kearney before his departure for California. This wore heavily on the company, especially the wives and children who were allowed to accompany them. Often the weary, who fell behind during the relentless push, trudged into camp hours after the others. Worse yet were the ministrations of the military doctor, George B. Sanderson of Missouri, who clearly disliked the Mormons. He forced the men to swallow calomel and arsenic for their ills from the same rusty spoon. The men justifiably referred to him as “mineral quack” and “Doctor Death.”
On 16 September 1846 at the last crossing of the Arkansas River, Smith sent Captain Nelson Higgins and ten men to convey most of the soldiers’ families up the river to the Mexican village of Pueblo for the winter. Having been promised that their families could accompany them to California, the men protested this division of the battalion. In light of the difficult trek that lay ahead, however, this proved to be a wise decision. A month later at Santa Fe, all but five of the remaining women and sick men were sent under the direction of Captain James Brown to join the earlier group at Pueblo. The wearied men dragged in, arriving at Santa Fe on 9 October 1846. General Kearny had already left for California, leaving the thriving city of six thousand under the command of Colonel Alexander Doniphan, a friend to the Mormons from earlier days in Missouri. Doniphan ordered a one hundred gun salute in honor of the arrival of the Mormon Battalion. Lieutenant Smith relinquished command of the battalion in Pueblo to Colonel Philip St. George Cooke, whom the men came to respect as a fair but firm leader.[7]
The new commander had been instructed to blaze a wagon trail from Santa Fe all the way to California. The march took its toll on the soldiers, and on 10 November a third detachment of fifty-five wearied and weakened men turned back towards Pueblo. A lack of food and water plagued the remaining 350 officers and men, as well as the challenge of the sandy trails. Throughout the march, soldiers were either pulling long ropes to guide wagon teams through the deep sand or walking in double file in front to firm a trail for the wheels. After turning northwest, just south of present-day Arizona, the battalion encountered a herd of wild bulls, abandoned by Spanish and Mexican ranchers. The bulls stampeded the battalion, killing fifteen animals and wounding three soldiers. The “Battle of the Bulls” was the only fight during the battalion’s long journey.[8]
Although there was a small Mexican garrison stationed at Tucson, the battalion passed through without incident. After leaving Tucson, the march took its path along General Kearney’s route parallel to the Gila River. Beyond the Colorado River lay over a hundred miles of trackless desert, where water was obtained only by digging deep wells. The heaviest sands and coldest nights as well as the hottest days were encountered along this route. Weakened animals had to be butchered for food; the men eating every part, including the hide which was boiled until tender enough to chew. Most of them by this time were barefoot, some of them wrapping their feet with rawhide and old clothing to protect them from the hot sands.[9] Beyond the desert, the only way to transport the wagons through the narrow mountain passes of the coastal range was with ropes, pulleys and strong backs. On 29 January 1847 the battalion finally reached Mission San Diego at the end of their march.
Since California was already in the hands of the United States, the men of the Mormon Battalion served as occupation troops with garrison duty in San Diego, San Luis Rey and Los Angeles. After their discharge on 16 July 1847, most men returned to their families who had made the trek to the Salt Lake Valley in present-day Utah, while others settled into many parts of California, playing major roles in the beginning of the gold rush. Eighty-one of the men, despite their hardships in the military, chose to reenlist for six more months of duty.
The march of the Mormon Battalion, a two thousand and thirty mile long trek, was the longest recorded military troop move in history. Six hundred and eighteen men, women and children volunteered to aid their country in a time of need, and in the process made history.
Bibliography
Primary Source:
Daniel Tyler. A Concise History of the Mormon Battalion in the Mexican War, 1846-1847, reprinted 1881 (Glorieta, NM: Rio Grande Press, 1964)
Tyler was the battalion historian who was charged with recording the proceedings of the Mormon Battalion. He was enlisted throughout the march and kept concise record of the comings and goings of the battalion.
Scholarly Journals:
Mark Metzler Sawin, Ph.D. Heroic Ambition: The early life of Dr. Elisha Kent Kane. American Philosophical Society Library Bulletin Volume 2, 2002.
Elisha Kent Kane, the brother of Thomas L. Kane, who was dispatched to muster the battalion of Mormons, was one of the men that helped to train members of the Mormon Battalion before their march for the Mexican War.
A. R. Mortensen, ed., The Command and Staff of the Mormon Battalion in the Mexican War, in Utah Historical Quarterly, Oct. 1952.
This entry in the quarterly journal of the Utah Historical Society contains historical record of the leadership and roles of the Mormon Battalion.
Other Sources:
Church Educational System, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Church History in the Fulness of Times, copyright 1989.
This is an informative compilation of historical events of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from 1830 to 1988.
Jensen, Andrew: compiler. History of the Mormon Battalion, Manuscript, Historical Department: Archives Division, the Church of Jesus-Christ of Latter-day Saints, Salt Lake City, UT.
A collection of historical documents, and personal accounts pertaining to the enlistment, march and dispatch of the Mormon Battalion.
[1] Jensen, Andrew. History of the Mormon Battalion, pp. 7-8
[2] Mark Metzler Sawin, Ph.D. Ambition: The early life of Dr. Elisha Kent Kane, pp. 26-27
[3] Church Educational System. Church History in the Fulness of Times, p. 316
[4] Daniel Tyler. A Concise History of the Mormon Battalion in the Mexican War, pp. 128-129
[5] Church Educational System. Church History in the Fulness of Times, p. 324
[6] Daniel Tyler. A Concise History of the Mormon Battalion in the Mexican War, p. 144
[7] A. R. Mortensen. “The Command and Staff of the Mormon Battalion in the Mexican War,” p. 343
[8] Church Educational System. Church History in the Fulness of Times, p. 326
[9] Daniel Tyler. A Concise History of the Mormon Battalion in the Mexican War, p. 167
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