<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:19:25.195-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Dad</title><subtitle type='html'>Overflow thoughts and ideas from a once active mind</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>79</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-113353445499129208</id><published>2005-12-02T09:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-02T10:05:01.046-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Another Nine DigitsPreface:Back in early 2002, I wrote a piece defending Bush’s decision to bomb Iraq. However, if you were to take a look at that piece, you will clearly see I was opposed to that action, but assumed that a bumbling Bush had accidentally cut off all other viable choices. Silly me. As history unfolds, it appears Bush may turn out to be the Dick Van Dyke of the White House. Do you </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/113353445499129208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/113353445499129208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2005_12_01_archive.html#113353445499129208' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-112198199705250273</id><published>2005-07-21T17:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2005-07-21T17:39:57.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A few weeks back, a "stay-at-home mom" friend of many years changed direction.  Some of our mutual friends didn't get it.  The action and the reactions prompted my writing the following in her honor:Armor AllHigh above the dirt and sweatA castle nobly surveys the terrainWherein resides a perfect familyInconvenience - their closest call to painHer entry two suits of armor sportOne proven worthy in</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/112198199705250273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/112198199705250273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2005_07_01_archive.html#112198199705250273' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-109725709797243178</id><published>2004-10-08T13:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-08T13:48:52.866-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Florida Bigots Hide Behind HoodThe KKK was once very visible across Florida. The familiar white hood disguised the perpetrators of injustice against blacks and those who cared about their rights. We are so fortunate to have that period in our past... or do we?The familiar white hood has given way to a much less recognized but even more feared - Glenda Hood. Appointed by Governor Bush, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109725709797243178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109725709797243178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2004_10_01_archive.html#109725709797243178' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-109570769620819542</id><published>2004-09-20T14:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-20T15:38:44.166-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Mail CallRecently I offered a group of friends the opportunity to ask any question about life, provided they were prepared to read the answer. I had one taker. She wrote quite the thoughtful question with several parts. Following is a slightly modified version of my response, revisited here because it addresses questions shared by many, often in silence. I begin by establishing a basic </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109570769620819542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109570769620819542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109570769620819542' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-109483297737723328</id><published>2004-09-10T13:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-09-10T12:19:24.006-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Everybody's born. Everybody dies. The middle part is choices.Everybody knows, "everybody dies." Then we go about our lives as though we were invincible. "Everybody" does not mean "everybody else." During my checkered career, I have had the opportunity to participate in starting two Hospice programs. When working with dying people, it is reasonable to project that physical pain would be the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109483297737723328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109483297737723328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109483297737723328' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-109468796361732787</id><published>2004-09-08T19:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-10-07T17:55:02.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hurricanes, Elections and other Florida DisastersSo what’s new in Hurricanes? As best we know, they have been a part of the weather as long as we have been having weather. But there is something new: Information Technology. Computer models tell us, a week in advance sometimes, where these giant storms will go, how fast they will move, how fast the winds will be in relation to any particular eye</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109468796361732787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109468796361732787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2004_09_01_archive.html#109468796361732787' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-109328564875930566</id><published>2004-08-23T14:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-23T14:27:28.760-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Rooney TunesToday I received an email, which follows.  My first reaction was the elicited response shared by the author of the email.  “Right on!”  Andy Rooney is a world-class commentator.  His editorials are sharp, sometimes caustic, and well thought through.  His string of sound bite statements have such a compelling momentum.  Hitler was good at that.Once given distance from the impact of</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109328564875930566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109328564875930566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109328564875930566' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-109275407179735718</id><published>2004-08-17T10:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-19T08:21:50.536-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Gimmie that ole time religion!Approximately 380,000 residents of Pinellas County, Florida (St Petersburg, Clearwater) choked the three evacuation routes Thursday and Friday in preparation for Hurricane Charley. The communities up and down the barrier island beaches went dark as Progress Energy shut down some of it's shoreline generating capacity in anticipation of a storm surge, projected </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109275407179735718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109275407179735718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109275407179735718' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-109182391200695447</id><published>2004-08-06T16:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2004-08-06T16:25:12.006-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Election 2004I recently watched a rerun of a West Wing episode. I admit I am only recently acquainted with West Wing, thanks to the marvel of recording technology. Anyway, you may have seen it. It is the episode of the mid-term election. With all the efforts of the White House and millions of dollars, the net result in the congressional seats up of challenge was no change. In this episode, Toby</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109182391200695447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/109182391200695447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2004_08_01_archive.html#109182391200695447' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-107066147415262911</id><published>2003-12-05T16:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-12-05T17:01:06.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>InterludeI interrupt my normal political programming for an important message:Grandkids!I could stop right there - but I won't!Last night I could not have been more proud.  I invited Maritza (14) to sell raffle tickets at Tampa BayWatch's 10th Anniversary Party.  She was the party!  In the process of selling a ton of tickets, she endeared herself to everyone.  As she captured their </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/107066147415262911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/107066147415262911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2003_12_01_archive.html#107066147415262911' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-106080844727578528</id><published>2003-08-13T17:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-08-13T17:19:21.280-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>People I cannot stand, and why I stand behind themWhat to Hillary Clinton and Kobe Bryant have in common?  Hmmmm.  Well, for one thing, my support.I don’t like Hillary Clinton.  I find her a political opportunist from a long way back, reaching a peak as a carpetbagger Senator representing my old home state, New York.  She has never appeared to me to be sincere, gracious,, or even friendly.  </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/106080844727578528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/106080844727578528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2003_08_01_archive.html#106080844727578528' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-89501649</id><published>2003-02-21T10:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-02-21T10:56:28.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>On the MapWhat do you have to do to get recognition for your community?  Host a Super Bowl?  Been there!  Twice!  Win a Super Bowl?  Been there too.   Bring in cruise ships?  Rebuild downtown nightlife?  Buy millions in travel advertising?  Done all those.  Still, most Americans would have great difficulty identifying Tampa Bay on their Rand-McNally.Finally, we have made the big time!  Thanks</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/89501649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/89501649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2003_02_01_archive.html#89501649' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-88337976</id><published>2003-01-31T13:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-31T13:24:50.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hemmingway, Mailer &amp; MeCurrently, I am reading “To Have and Have Not,” one of what I assume to be Hemmingway’s lesser works, as it is rarely mentioned when his name come up.  Ernie has a confident grace in his simplistic chronological presentation of a hapless charter boat captain.  I can picture him sitting at Sloppy Joe’s telling this story, speaking to whomever happened to listen.  In his </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/88337976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/88337976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#88337976' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-87795223</id><published>2003-01-21T13:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2003-01-21T14:06:17.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Movin' On!Old Dad has done it again.  Moved that is.  We have gone and bought what will some day be a 1972 36' Guflstar motorsailor.  That is to say, we bought a TRASHED Gulfstar.  How trashed?Remember when you were a kid and you set out to build a backyard fort?  This dream structure turned out to be a collection of nails surrounded by whatever could be scrounged in the neighborhood.  Well</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/87795223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/87795223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2003_01_01_archive.html#87795223' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-83786927</id><published>2002-10-30T15:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-10-30T15:47:15.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Political UnrestDo you remember your mother teaching you, "If you can't say something nice about somebody, don't say anything?"  Is it just me, or are you too frazzled by the barrage of political announcements that make out certain candidates to be less than human?  Many of these are so negative the the candidate running the commercial  doesn't even identify himself."Oh, no.  Those are not </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/83786927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/83786927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#83786927' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-82703391</id><published>2002-10-08T16:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-08T16:11:50.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Health vs. HardwareA majority of Americans say that the nation's economy is in its worst shape in nearly a decade and that President Bush and Congressional leaders are spending too much time talking about Iraq while neglecting problems at home, according to the latest New York Times/CBS News poll.The poll found signs of economic distress that cut across party and geographic lines. Nearly half</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/82703391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/82703391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_10_01_archive.html#82703391' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-81505583</id><published>2002-09-12T09:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-23T16:20:55.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>These Colors Don't Run!Well, we all tuned in. The day that replaced Veterans' Day, Memorial Day and the 4th of July, September 11, 2002 is now television history.You mean 2001, don't you?Well... no. Nine-Eleven, as we have come to call it, remains a national tragedy, and a galvanizing force in America. Yesterday yielded a television producer's dream. From the archive's came the most </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/81505583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/81505583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81505583' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-81414266</id><published>2002-09-10T14:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-10T14:16:38.323-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Holliday or HollicostTomorrow marks a very special day in American History.  It could mark two.  Here we teeter on the brink of attacking Iraq, this time basically alone.  On this occasion, I write a note that is very unsettling, especially to me.America Right or Wrong It is absolutely unrealistic for the "average American" to know what is going on in Iraq.  Our government tells us they are</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/81414266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/81414266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81414266' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-80928566</id><published>2002-08-30T15:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-30T16:15:32.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Happy Holidays?Following are two recent poems.  One is in keeping with the season.  The other is in response to a quote shared with me by a writer/friend  The quote was not unlike a gauntlet, which I hath nobly taken up! "Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese." -- G. K. ChestertonBefore we cut to the cheese, a thoughtful reflection:Labor Day /Day LaborDers </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/80928566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/80928566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80928566' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-80916700</id><published>2002-08-30T10:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-30T10:18:47.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Oops!A little item in the New York Times today talks of the coming release of the fine by the World Trade Organization against, of all people, us!  A mere $4 billion!  The US has already pled guilty to unfair international trade practices, but thaought a billion would be a more appropriate fine for this infraction.Seems a couple years ago, we past a law giving corporations the ability to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/80916700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/80916700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80916700' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-80322801</id><published>2002-08-16T12:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-16T12:23:10.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Amber Alert Feared Kidnapped!As any good businessperson knows, when you have a product of service where demand exceeds supply, you should kill the product so you don’t have delivery problems.  If you can’t kill the product altogether, modify it sufficiently to decrease demand.Whoa, old timer!  I don’t know what business school you went to, but something seems a tad bit off here.Well, seems </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/80322801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/80322801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#80322801' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-79993042</id><published>2002-08-08T15:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T15:16:32.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>"Star light, star bright...."In response to a query from one of my writing groups recently, I was prompted to draft the following:ON WISHES        by Old DadTo wish is to admit defeat;     To want is to resign the lack thereof.Arise and have -           Assume your future true                while the present drags you there.If you were to believe, as I do, that we create </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/79993042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/79993042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_08_01_archive.html#79993042' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-79552371</id><published>2002-07-29T11:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-08T10:04:38.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Everybody Wins!  [except the old people]Last week, the Senate addressed legislation to provide prescription insurance for Medicare recipients.  Would you believe, every Senator voted in favor of the coverage!This is great!  When does coverage begin?Well... It's not that simple.  It seems there were two bills - naturally, a Democrat and Republican version.  Voting pretty much followed party </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/79552371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/79552371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#79552371' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-78735136</id><published>2002-07-09T12:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-07-09T12:20:02.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Economic Forecast - Cloudy, 70% Chance of RainIn his New York Times article this morning, "Levi's Shifts Into a Lower Gear," Stuart Elliott goes to great length in explaining the Levi's market strategy for their low rise jeans.  A product available "everywhere" for women, they have been available almost nowhere for men... until now.  Levi's concept of setting the trend, not following it, will </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/78735136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/78735136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_07_01_archive.html#78735136' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-78190840</id><published>2002-06-25T15:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-25T15:59:39.510-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Supreme Court Gets It!A few days ago, I shared with you the idea the the Supreme Court is off task.  So it is only fair that I compliment the justices for their decision yesterday that only the jury could impose a death penalty.  This seems totally consistent with the "trial by peers" concept.  Hopefully, the Court will have reason in the future to extrapolate this decision to non-capital </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/78190840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/78190840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78190840' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-78190173</id><published>2002-06-25T15:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-25T15:46:59.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>No SweatIn "Let Them Sweat" Mr. Kristoff, and subsequently his discussion partners agree on the assumption that the US attitude toward sweat shops is somehow based on the welfare of the workers, the protection of the environment, or some other altruistic prupose.  If only that were true.US history is repleat with examples of foreign affairs based on devine self-interest.  If the sweatshops </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/78190173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/78190173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78190173' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-78028516</id><published>2002-06-21T11:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-21T11:44:47.283-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Supreme Court Justices Don't Get It!Following is an excerpt (lifted from yesterday's AP story carried in the New York Times) which gives the rational of this august body with regard to executing mentally retarded murderers.  Take a look:Of the 38 states that have a death penalty, 18 now prohibit executing the retarded, up from 2 when the court last considered the question in 1989. This "</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/78028516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/78028516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#78028516' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-77577508</id><published>2002-06-10T15:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-06-10T15:52:25.973-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Harvard Admissions Reps Don't Get It!Not to be outdone by the inept faculty, Harvard admissions is considering accepting students who have already accepted early admissions at another college.OK.  Let's face it.  Harvard is Harvard and the rest aren't.  Whether of not the change in practice is legal, it violates the intent of the agreement among colleges to respect the others' contracts.  If </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/77577508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/77577508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_06_01_archive.html#77577508' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-76895115</id><published>2002-05-23T16:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-23T16:24:01.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Big Brother ain't so big, after all!I love the New York times.  Thay have people everywhere and they manage to be on top of the top stories.  Sometimes, like today, they are standing too close.  The missed the story that will "unfold," probably tomorrow.By now you have heard, seen, and read all you want to know about Gary Condit's aide.   I know she had a name, but you and I know there is no </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/76895115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/76895115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_05_01_archive.html#76895115' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-76849257</id><published>2002-05-22T14:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-22T15:02:26.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Harvard professors don't get it!In the New York Times today is an article, Harvard Faculty Votes to Put the Excellence Back in the A.  This is proof positive that thinking gets distorted in the ivory (or in this case ivy) tower.First of all, this "unanimous decision" was by voice vote in a open meeting with less than a third of the faculty present, likely the junior faculty still fighting for</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/76849257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/76849257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_05_01_archive.html#76849257' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-76507506</id><published>2002-05-13T16:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-05-14T11:37:20.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>sclark@complus.net &amp; other stuffThanks to the marvels of technology, Old Dad receives email!  About 100 times a day!  Twice!  I get them at work.  Then I go home and get them again.  Actually, it was my choice to set it up this way.  It gives me the option to handle the personal stuff at home and the business at work.  Pretty spiffy, n'est pas?Anyway, though it may sound like complaining, I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/76507506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/76507506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_05_01_archive.html#76507506' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-75770357</id><published>2002-04-24T11:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-24T11:38:03.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Listen to the SunsetLast weekend we were camping in a little park on Siesta Key (near Sarasota, Florida).  Sunset was due about 8 p.m.  About 7:30, campers started filtering out onto the beach.  Kids were playing in the gentle surf.  A dad was trying to engineer pictures of this natural event.  Another was overheard, "If only a sailboat would cross the horizon and a gull would fly by, this </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/75770357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/75770357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75770357' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-75554154</id><published>2002-04-18T14:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-18T14:57:03.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Old Dad, the Futurist[light bulb] Now I understand!  e-Learning is currently focused on business training and other end users who can afford to buy packages from the e-Learning software companies.  The applications for higher education are still a small part of the market.  The “thinkers,” cloistered in academic pockets (universities) are currently maintaining their distance, not unlike the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/75554154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/75554154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75554154' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-75468662</id><published>2002-04-16T12:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-04-16T13:05:57.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>On PeaceI belong to several Internet writers' groups.  Recently, a member of one of those groups posted a poem related to the current situation in the Middle East.  A relatively heated discussion ensued.  In response, I penned the following - Inspired by current discussions, here's a little ditty I call:WORLD PIECEAs long as there are victorsthere will be victims.As long as there are </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/75468662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/75468662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_04_01_archive.html#75468662' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-10981653</id><published>2002-03-21T16:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-21T16:18:28.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One wore Blue and one wore GrayRecently God and I were bouncing around the concepts of adversarial vs. collegial.“Hold it right there, buddy.  Where do you get off implying that you and God are equals?  I just don’t think God has to bounce anything around with you!”Whatever.  Anyway, as I was saying….“Not so fast, slippery one.  Let’s deal with the bouncing thing first!”Moving </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/10981653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/10981653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10981653' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-10867744</id><published>2002-03-18T15:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-18T15:02:00.533-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>In loco parentisAfter I posted last week (see below) I got to thinking.  Now I have been told that thinking can be a good thing.  My grandfather was prone to say, "Make sure brain is in gear before putting mouth in motion."  I wonder why he kept saying that to me.Anyway, I was thinking, what was the intent of the board when they decided to issue a "Values Statement."  I decided to take a look</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/10867744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/10867744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10867744' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-10776067</id><published>2002-03-15T16:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-15T16:41:07.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Hmmmm.I enjoyed 4 wonderful years at Miami University in sleepy Oxford, Ohio.  Off the beaten path and without cars for undergraduate residents (legal that is, but that’s another story), Miami created an oasis where adolescents could dabble in intellectual and social pursuits.  It was a wonderful time - in our country’s history - in my life.I ask your indulgence while we stand together.  Join</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/10776067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/10776067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_03_01_archive.html#10776067' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-10153394</id><published>2002-02-26T14:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-03-07T13:20:37.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>These are the best of posts.  These are the worst of posts.There are many who would say that I have an opinion on everything.  I number these among family, close friends... sometimes both.  Yes, I am blessed with the ability to form an opinion, often on the barest minimum of data.  There are those who would marvel at the "gift."It has come time to "unveil" the secret of the opinion.  What </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/10153394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/10153394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#10153394' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-10001713</id><published>2002-02-22T09:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-22T09:07:26.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A percolationI belong to a couple internet groups, one of which is prone to "percolations."  That is where one member will post a quote, an idea, or a list of words, and others springboard into their own creative writing style, be it prose, poetry, whatever.  Following is an example of one such "perc" and the poem it spawned.  The perc, and the title, which I have added after the fact is:&gt; We</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/10001713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/10001713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#10001713' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-9693791</id><published>2002-02-13T16:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-14T14:26:02.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Pop shared wisdom after allWhen I was to be married, he took me aside for some father - son advice:  “You are certainly a man,” he said, “but will never be man enough to handle more than one woman at a time.  So make darned sure you are done with this one before you start up with another!”  The advice seemed silly at the time.  I was, after all, about to make a permanent commitment.  But as </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/9693791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/9693791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_02_01_archive.html#9693791' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-9243088</id><published>2002-01-31T15:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-02-27T11:15:43.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>January ReflectionsI was looking back over some of my earlier writings and found several that have yet to see weblight.  Written over a 5 year period, I can hear the voice change form piece to piece (not in chronological order).  So here we go:God is DeafPray.We teach our young.We beseech our old.“Talk to God!”What kind of impotent omnipotent do we personifythat would need my words to</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/9243088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/9243088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#9243088' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-8411797</id><published>2002-01-04T15:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-01-04T15:24:10.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It was a very good yearWhen Frank Sinatra sang about his life "... as vintage wine from fine old mellow kegs," he was measuring his life against his relationships.  I remember thinking years ago, "There is so much more to life than this.  How can he overlook all that's happening in the world, nationally, or locally for that matter?"Well, let's take a look at 2001:Randy has established </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/8411797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/8411797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2002_01_01_archive.html#8411797' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-7703579</id><published>2001-12-06T14:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-12-06T14:41:50.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>All I want for Christmas...I remember Christmas morning.  Ward and I would wait at the top of the as yet unfinished staircase - waiting for the signal that it was OK to come down.  We knew that it was "stockings only" before breakfast.  Funny, I don't remember much about breakfast. Then we would attack the tree, tearing through in minutes what must have been many nights of maticulous wrapping.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/7703579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/7703579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_12_01_archive.html#7703579' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-7508741</id><published>2001-11-29T15:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2001-11-29T15:58:47.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Time!For someone who is as yet unconvinced that time is linear,  it would seem contradictory to plead that I don't have enough time to create a decent blog entry.  Forturately, since things are seldom as they appear, "seem" doesn't matter.The golf tournament went great.Kettle season is well underway.I gotta go... again!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/7508741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/7508741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_11_01_archive.html#7508741' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-6614998</id><published>2001-10-25T15:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-25T15:51:29.050-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>You just don't get it!Quick note:  Did you notice the recent acknowledgement of the "formidable opponent?"  Yes, that could have been Tony Dungy and more coach speak after losing yet another win-able game.  But no - that quote was Rumsfeld/Powell.  You know, the two headed voice for "Truth... Justice... and the American Way."  Now don't get me wrong.  I have a flag on the porch and I am </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/6614998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/6614998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_10_01_archive.html#6614998' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-6387580</id><published>2001-10-16T17:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-16T17:05:28.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Stealth Bomber vs. AnthraxThink about it.  We hit them where it hurts.  They hit us where it hurts.  The question isn't "Who is winning?"The question is, "Who is losing less?"At the moment, I'd say advantage them.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/6387580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/6387580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_10_01_archive.html#6387580' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-6080024</id><published>2001-10-03T08:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-10-03T16:28:58.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Just when you thought is was safe to buy Super Bowl tickets...Like the Bucs of old, snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.Now if you listen to the same old "coach-speak" you will soon discover that "we played a great game but under performed on a few key plays."  WRONG!  The play calling stinks.  Offensively... defensively... special teams... cheerleaders - it doesn't matter.  Don't </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/6080024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/6080024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_10_01_archive.html#6080024' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-5905743</id><published>2001-09-25T11:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-25T13:33:04.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>When does the war start, Daddy?9-11-01 is a day for the record books.  Of course, there will be many record books with many interpretations of what happened and why.  History, as you will recall, is "... what we choose to remember about the past."  In case you missed any of the events of the day, they reran continuously for over a week - first on every channel - then only on the news channels -</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/5905743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/5905743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_09_01_archive.html#5905743' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-5887972</id><published>2001-09-24T16:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-24T16:58:26.353-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One very important non-event!We just returned from a whirlwind weekend surrounding David's first birthday.  [The nearly 1100 miles was much more pleasant with co-pilot Randy to share the miles and miles of miles and miles.] Chances are, if you are reading this Blog, you weren't there.  You missed two dynamite softball games. Sydney's team (girls 6 and under) was a trip.  Russ volunteered to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/5887972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/5887972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_09_01_archive.html#5887972' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-5545729</id><published>2001-09-07T16:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-09-07T16:33:04.446-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>PassagesNew experiences abound!  Sometimes, its time to sample.  Lately, we've been gorging!Discovery CoveMonths ago we made the reservation to go swim with the dolphins. Tres fris.  [Has little to do with three french fries, but there is a connection.]  Dixie is our new dolphin friend.  She's 28 and retired from a performing career at Sea World Florida. I would link you to a picture, but </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/5545729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/5545729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_09_01_archive.html#5545729' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-5233314</id><published>2001-08-22T11:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-22T11:55:11.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>On HappinessI stumbled upon the following quote:“It is pretty hard to tell what does bring happiness; poverty and wealth have both failed.”  - Kin HubbardThis begs the question... you know...  so here it is:Happiness is hereditary.  You are born with it.  It’s just that, over time, it can get obscured by all that “important stuff.”  Left unutilized, it withers.  Eventually, most of us </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/5233314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/5233314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_08_01_archive.html#5233314' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-5019818</id><published>2001-08-10T14:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-10T14:36:33.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Jelly Beans &amp; Christmas TreesThings were different in the 50's.  Every winter, Troop 209 would sell Christmas Trees.  The first year I had no idea where the trees came from.  But the following fall, I remember going with some of the guys to a farm where we cut trees and hauled them to the location where the farmer tied them up with a twine machine - the forerunner of the mesh that smushes </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/5019818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/5019818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_08_01_archive.html#5019818' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4998994</id><published>2001-08-09T13:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-09T13:09:38.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Stay TunedI just got off the phone with the service manager [see yesterday's blog].  To be fair, he did call back last night a 7:00.  Since E.J. (my service writer) said I would be called before they closed at 6:00 and because we had been using my cell phone, it never occurred to me I should be sitting by my home phone at 7:00.  At least he called.  So, to make a long story medium, I have a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4998994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4998994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_08_01_archive.html#4998994' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4982179</id><published>2001-08-08T16:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-08-08T16:21:37.746-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>The Sign of the DolphinYesterday was incredible!  Dolphin everywhere - swimming so close that you literally had to hang over the side to see them!  For maybe 15 minutes these ballerinas of the sea encircled the Clark family as silently Shaman  drifted across Tampa Bay. You shudda oughta been there.  I shudda oughta been there!  Don’t you hate it when life happens, just at the wrong time!  But</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4982179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4982179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_08_01_archive.html#4982179' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4832950</id><published>2001-07-31T11:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-31T11:17:24.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Intense in TentsHow could I read of Wendy's brave camping experience(July 29th entry), and not think back to backyards long ago?I was a member of the Fox Patrol, but the troop wasn't going camping, so Tommy Rogers and I cooked up an excuse to camp out in his back yard. We consumed most of the afternoon pitching the tent and gathering the necessary supplies - you know, sleeping bags, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4832950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4832950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4832950' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4825260</id><published>2001-07-31T00:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-31T00:00:53.760-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Following are two poems written by lighthouses.  I was blessed to be their medium of expressionRevisitingMy Purpose is in Your PassingI know not from whence you came	and though your destination near,	I go not with you.I am here to ease your burden...	to offer stability as you mark your final course.Though many pass, I stand alone - 	The light that guides, in comfort...			home.		(</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4825260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4825260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4825260' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4816489</id><published>2001-07-30T15:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-30T15:33:48.923-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Full SunIt finally happened.  Somebody took our cabana!   Mild breeze, clear sky, gorgeous water... and somebody took our cabana!Understand, there are cabanas stretching as far as the eye can see toward John's Pass, not unlike a train, just begining to fill, whose engine can only be imagined off in the distance.   But our cabana is the caboose, situated at the south end of the Treasure Island</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4816489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4816489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4816489' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4767929</id><published>2001-07-27T17:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-27T17:40:02.986-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Full MoonAny good sailor can tell you when the next full moon will be.  Unfortunately, not everyone is a sailor.  Some people seem to think they can act out any day of the month.  Take Wendy  for example.  Wendy, my blog mentor, who usually has such thought provoking and compelling entries, has taken to a cat theme, of all things!  Now I understand cat attendants (sometimes called cat owners by</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4767929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4767929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4767929' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4748043</id><published>2001-07-26T16:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-26T16:27:48.783-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>One if by land... two if by seaWhere have I heard that before?Anyway, obviously the right answer it two!Sea School was fantastic!  Thanks to those who made it possible.  [You know who you are.]  I learned stuff I didn't know I didn't know.  I was scheduled to take my exam today, but had to postpone till August 7 because of a meeting that moved into my space.  I'll be more careful protecting</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4748043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4748043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4748043' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4525515</id><published>2001-07-13T15:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-13T15:32:05.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>A blog a day keeps the doctor away.Let's continue:Sea School -Tomorrow it begins!  For the next 9 days, I will be in school working toward my Captain's License.  That's 9-6 on weekends and 6-10:30 weekdays.  If nothing else, it made me get my First Aid and CPR certifications.  Hey, who knows?  Maybe some day your will see Captain Sparky on the nearly world famous Tampa Bay Duckboat Tours!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4525515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4525515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4525515' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4523568</id><published>2001-07-13T13:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-13T13:34:23.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>To blog... or not to blog.  That is the Question!Good blogs make good neighbors.A blog in time saves nine.Blog on, dude!And so it goes.  So much is happening, has happened, etc.  Lets hit the highlights:Mr. Snuggles -Yes, I miss him.  Daily I can see the many reasons we did the right thing for him and for us.  But I still miss him!Blues Clues Live!You haven't lived until you have </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4523568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4523568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4523568' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4472342</id><published>2001-07-10T16:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-07-10T16:48:48.980-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It happened again!This is my third post today!  When I attempted to publish the first one, it disappeared!  It was then I discovered the 6/19 post was in my history but not on the site.  I fixed that and posted again - which also disappeared.  Each one gets shorter!  Let's see where this goes.... AND AGAIN!!!</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4472342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4472342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_07_01_archive.html#4472342' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4143258</id><published>2001-06-19T14:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-19T14:24:40.980-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Why is it, when you decide to "Do what is right" it doesn't always feel good?We (Nancy and I) had had several discussions about his whining.  It seems Mr. Snuggles, as he grew older, grew less content with spending long hours alone.  Last week, I set out on the unpleasant task of finding him a new home.  Eleven would-be new parents called.  After screening interviews, I selected a couple to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4143258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4143258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_06_01_archive.html#4143258' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-4020033</id><published>2001-06-11T13:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-11T13:32:41.366-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Have I told you about Mr. Snuggles?  I thought not.  Still a puppy (just a few days younger than grandson David), he is a Bijon, so named "Mr. Snuggles" because Old Dad quickly tired of people saying "Isn't she cute!"  [The "Snuggles" part is because he looks like one of those Snuggles hand puppets.]  Now the cute part is reasonably accurate.  His new best friend is whoever is new.  When we go </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4020033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/4020033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_06_01_archive.html#4020033' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3922917</id><published>2001-06-04T15:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-06-04T15:04:18.333-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Imagine an archery competition.  The stakes are say, approximately enormous.  So you go out and find the best marksman you can find.  Your expert shows up for the competition to see about a hundred targets of all sizes and shapes.  Unfortunately, your marksman doesn't know what target to shoot for.  You may win, but the odds are against you!I saw a box ad in the local paper for the Executive </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3922917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3922917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_06_01_archive.html#3922917' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3877195</id><published>2001-05-31T18:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-31T18:17:36.570-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Finally: Equal Rights!Did you ever notice equal rights  are more equal for some than for others? “Equal” meansthe advantage is barely noticeable to those who have it. Thank goodness the government protects us! There is no more age discrimination(but you may be “overqualified”). Equal Employment Opportunity is great(until you get passed over to meet a quota)! Why is there always</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3877195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3877195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3877195' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3876427</id><published>2001-05-31T17:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-31T17:12:10.713-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Let's get it over with.  I fell off the dock.  Looking back, it really is a humorous picture - an old live-aboard veteran flailing futilely as he ungraceously plumets into the sea.  The dinghy only weighs 68 pounds, so what was I doing standing on the rub board edge instead of the concrete dock.  The dinghy was nearly out of the water anyway when I decided to improve my leverage. It cost me a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3876427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3876427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3876427' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3875708</id><published>2001-05-31T16:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-31T16:13:25.176-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I know! I never should have used battle of the head.  For those who may as yet be landlubbers, the head is the necessary room on a boat.  Not to say that Russ may not have other head battles to fight, I was referring to his replumbing the head on Shaman (his sailboat).Thanks Wendy!If the above copy is right justified, it is due to the genious of niece Wendy.  If, on the other hand, it isn't, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3875708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3875708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3875708' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3846723</id><published>2001-05-29T15:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-29T15:52:30.560-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ok - it didn't work.  So, if you will, imagine the paragraph below starting with "This is an entry..." is center justified, followed by a paragraph right justified.  "brother" is in Broadway text.  "or not" is in Forte.  All of this was lost when I attempted to write a blog in my web publishing software and drop it in here.  So, use your imagination (and if you know how to make this bloody thing </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3846723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3846723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3846723' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3846574</id><published>2001-05-29T15:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-29T15:38:54.390-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This is a test.  This is only a test.  If this were a real emergency, you would be advised to log onto the blog of a more experienced blogger.This is an entryunlike any otherdesigned to figure outwithout a lot of botherwhich functions can be publishedand which ones that I druthernot use at all, at least untilconsulting with my brother.While we test the limits of this tool with which I</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3846574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3846574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3846574' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3749358</id><published>2001-05-22T16:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-22T16:10:10.363-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Russ arrived first.  After fighting the battle of the head, and coming out behind, he was ready to shower and settle in for dinner.  While he was in the shower, Bob appeared at the gate (he now being the only Clark sibling without a gate key).  [We'll fix that.]  They did the normal catch-up stuff (not to be confused with ketchup stuff [remember the Burger King experience of '76?]).  Anyway, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3749358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3749358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3749358' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3693434</id><published>2001-05-18T16:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-18T16:25:18.880-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>&lt;!--// thanks to randomwalks.com for this codefunction targetLinks(boNew){   if (boNew) where = "_blank";   else where = "_self";   for (var i=0; i&lt;=(document.links.length-1); i++)   {   document.links[i].target = where;   }}//--&gt; links open windows  Well, if you had bet the farm on everything being in place at 6 pm - don't sell the tractor - you won!  I picked up the remaining </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3693434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3693434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3693434' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3640604</id><published>2001-05-15T12:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-15T12:21:39.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>At 6:00 pm today, the doors will open for the Salvation Army's Annual Civic Banquet.  About 250 business and community leaders will be arriving for what promises to be a fine evening.Well, I have run one side of the program.  The other side is on hold, waiting to see if one of the speakers is going to confirm.  The person who put the "hold" order in place has left the building with an unknown </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3640604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3640604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3640604' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3552195</id><published>2001-05-08T15:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-08T15:11:26.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Do you know how, sometimes there are things you should do, but you put them off for a long time, and then when you eventually do whatever it was, you find it was quick and easy, and you wish you had done it long ago?Well, let me tell you about Mr. Dan.But the story really begins with Randy's new job with the St. John Clinic.  Paul St. John, as it turns out, is very well known in neuro-muscular </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3552195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3552195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3552195' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3449047</id><published>2001-05-01T11:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-05-01T12:02:27.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>When we looked out the window by the laundry chute, I thought I could see the pine grove mom was pointing out to me.  It appeared to be slightly to the right of Knickerbocker Hill (which I learned years later was actually over near Pittsford). This stand of pines was to be our destination for our May Day Picnic!  What a beautiful, warm Spring Day for such a glorious outing!Over the years, May Day</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3449047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3449047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_05_01_archive.html#3449047' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3372722</id><published>2001-04-25T23:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-25T23:41:40.936-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>[Note:  There are two separate entries combined below - the last one first.]I just can't let Secretary's Day get away without sharing the following ditty, again from 1996.  While the steps of logging on have changed, the message is still the same.  See if you agree with:ON BEING AN EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT[unlock]StartPrograms	Office 95Microsoft WordAnd so it starts.Another day of processing.Other </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3372722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3372722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_04_01_archive.html#3372722' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3366094</id><published>2001-04-25T15:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-25T17:02:37.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Well, thank you all who offered words... ranging from acclaim to outrage.  In response to popular demand (mine) here is the next group of bedtime stories.  I am having difficulty getting the proper line spacing.  I have placed dashes at the beginning of lines indicating a tab should be there. (Somebody email me the secret to tabbing.)  If you would like a properly spaced copy for your collection,</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3366094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3366094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_04_01_archive.html#3366094' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3324772</id><published>2001-04-22T23:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-26T11:40:56.826-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>As best I can figure, I wrote this in 1996:One Old ManFor years now the tale's been toldOf a man quite determined and bold               Who organized folks                to help out the blokeswho were forced to live out in the cold.It was love, or compassion, or caringThat made him so forceful and daring	That red tape was busted	And street folks were trustedWith shelter and food for the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3324772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3324772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_04_01_archive.html#3324772' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3010249.post-3299040</id><published>2001-04-20T22:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2001-04-26T11:42:32.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Good evening and welcome to the beginning of what may be a meaningless journey.  Then again, who knows what mighty morsel might escape through these yet nimble fingers?I cannot possibly proceed without first crediting my blog-model, and coincidentally niece, Wendy, who can be found at www.WENDing.com.  She recently celebrated her first annibloggery.Over the years, I have written a number of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3299040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3010249/posts/default/3299040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://olddad.blogspot.com/2001_04_01_archive.html#3299040' title=''/><author><name>Sparky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13622377081322333023</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
