tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68187718878895032052024-03-21T13:26:45.011-07:00Sam Lee Jacksonsamleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.comBlogger114125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-43049425540333240182010-07-19T10:09:00.001-07:002010-07-19T10:10:00.638-07:00Takin' a breakSummer time blues have taken over and I'm going to take a little blog break. Be back in a month or so.<br /><br />Do good<br />Samsamleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-23972876823706962032010-06-24T11:31:00.000-07:002010-06-24T11:45:36.222-07:00One linersDon't you just love one liners? Don't you wish you'd thought of them?<br /><br /><br />A guy knows he's in love when he loses interest in his car for a couple of days.<br /><br />When I met Mr. Right I had no idea his first name was Always.<br /><br />Women don't want to hear what you think. Women want to hear what they think, in a deeper voice.<br /><br />I always wanted to be the last guy on earth, just to see if all those women were lying to me.<br /><br />A man in love is incomplete until he has married. Then he's finished.<br /><br />A bank is a place that will lend you money, if you can prove that you don't need it.<br /><br />Money won't buy friends but you get a better class of enemy.<br /><br />Imagine if there were no hypothetical situations?<br /><br />I don't consider myself bald. I'm just taller than my hair.<br /><br />You know the world is going crazy when the best rapper is a white guy, the best golfer is a black guy and the tallest guy in the NBA is Chinese.<br /><br />Cats are smarter than dogs. You can't get eight cats to pull a sled through snow.<br /><br />The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win you are still a rat.<br /><br />Give a man a fish and he has food for a day. Teach him how to fish and you can get rid of him for the entire weekend.<br /><br />It's not that I'm afraid to die, I just don't want to be there when it happens.<br /><br />I have my standards. They may be low, but I have them.<br /><br />I used to be Snow White, but I drifted.<br /><br />Deep down, I'm pretty superficial.<br /><br />A cynic is a man who, when he smells flowers, looks around for the coffin.<br /><br />I drink to make other people more interesting.<br /><br />Have you noticed that anyone driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone driving faster than you is a maniac.<br /><br />From the great Yogi Berra; "I really didn't say everything I said."<br /><br />And finally: It's so simple to be wise. Just think of something stupid to say and then don't say it.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-51957228152778217112010-06-17T14:19:00.000-07:002010-06-17T14:53:04.224-07:00Faux HolidaysIf Mother's Day is a holiday formulated by Hallmark (second highest sales day of the year), then I have to believe that Father's Day is probably the child of Sears or Home Depot. I've been reminded that Father's Day is Sunday and there's a gathering of extended family to celebrate all the Dads. I'm grateful for that. This kind of homogeneous gathering takes the pressure off of everyone. I have three offspring. One hasn't spoken to any family member in over twelve years. Another lives 1500 miles away and is filled with her own life as am I. This leaves the chore to Amanda. This way the pressure is off her and even more so, off me. This way I won't have to pretend to be gaga over a present. Not that she doesn't give good presents, she usually does. But there have been times in my past where I've been blessed with presents like <em>The ultimate flower arrangement </em>book. Or, <em>Tai chi in four easy lessons.</em> Or maybe even something cool like a good cigar, but whatever, this way I'll share the moment with other fellows and we are all off the hook. Amanda's little friends are now grown ups and we have a surge of new babies, so the new fathers will hopefully be the focus and take the pressure off us old guys.<br /><br />My Dad died when I was very young so I never had the pressure of remembering Fathers Day. If on January the first you asked me what day in the year Father's Day fell on, I couldn't tell you. If you asked what month Father's Day fell on, I couldn't tell you. I can tell you that Valentines Day (another Faux Holiday) is in February - I think. And, Mother's Day is in May. I'm pretty sure - didn't we just have that? But that's pretty much the extent of what sticks in the cobwebs of my mind. New Years Day is January first. I still have the facility to figure that out. The Fourth of July usually falls on July fourth. Thanksgiving is tougher but I think it is always on the third Thursday of November. The two I'm really certain of is Christmas on December 25th and opening Quail Season day which does fluctuate but is always within the first two weeks of October. See, the important days stick with you.<br /><br />Seriously though, to me Father's Day came when my first grandchild was born, and when Amanda got her Masters Degree and when my daughters married good men and when I see the little things in them that make me realize that they are of good character and filled with moral strength. When I notice a phrase or mannerism that I realize came only from me. When I knew that Amanda could not only bait her own hook, but also help her Daddy clean the fish. When I hear her laughter across the yard during a party and I know that she has that Jackson sense of humor.<br /><br />That's my Father's Day.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-82697895999553196562010-06-10T13:18:00.000-07:002010-06-10T14:10:26.506-07:00No time to wasteI've been gone the last couple of days because my son in law Lance and I have been installing a new and improved back yard at my house. Lance owns and operates ACLS - Arizona Complete Landscape Services - so he is doing everything landscape wise at my house. It has been an interesting time bonding with my daughters husband. Lance - also known as <em>Bus</em> - is a very sharp guy and a hard worker, however "early to bed and early to rise" is not necessarily his mantra. Because of this we normally got started around 8am. Now ordinarily this is not a big deal but did I mention that it is June and 110 degrees outside. At 6am it's 80 degrees. At 8am it's 93 degrees. This doesn't seem to faze my outsized son in law. He wears a dark, long sleeved shirt with a T shirt under, jeans and work boots. I'm frying with a T shirt, shorts and tennis shoes. Those that know me know that I'm not really into anything project. Mechanical things bore me to tears. I can do them, I just don't like them. This puts Lance and my efforts in a very good place. Lance figures out what to do, tells me what to do then I do it. Pretty good partnership. But, besides getting a new back yard this gives me quality time with my son in law. Amanda is pregnant with a little girl they, so far, call Lily and now this makes it very important for my son in law to get a little SamLeeJackson time. Time to impart knowledge onto the boy. The way I see it, is that I'm 63 years old. This maybe gets me, if I'm lucky, another 20 years. Some where along the way he's going to be responsible for all the Jackson descended girls maybe even including Carol. Therefore he better be a damn sight smarter by then. Important things like not drawing to an inside straight and quit calling those <em>bingo</em> cards games you play with your buddies for money - poker. It's not poker. He's got a lot to learn and I'm just to guy to help.<br /><br />Right?samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-63331334167848882362010-06-02T15:01:00.000-07:002010-06-02T15:23:38.584-07:00Oh pain and agony. Oh woe is me!Woe is me! Things are just too tough and I don't know if I can stand it. The economy is recovering but that doesn't stop my small business from having the slowest down turn in it's history. Times are tough. My house and my kid's house isn't worth what we paid for them. Our income is down and so is every other small business owner I know. My diverticulitis is acting up and my back hurts and my friend John has a bulge in his spine and can't work and airline fares have doubled, thus making it very difficult for me to visit my beloved cabin on Pana Lake, and though there is only two of us I can't go to the store without spending as much as my first car. Well, it was an <em>old </em>heap, but still.<br /><br />Then, I heard just today that a local radio personality died of stomach cancer at age 55.<br /><br />And, less than two months ago entire families that had thriving shrimp businesses in the gulf were put out of generational family businesses in the instant of an explosion.<br /><br />And, a thousand wonderful young soldiers have given their lives for us in Afghanistan.<br /><br />And, thousands more are trying to rebuild their shattered lives while missing arms and legs.<br /><br />And, the homeless and parentless children in Haiti have already been forgotten because of the oil spill.<br /><br />And, a mother lost her focus for just a moment and crossed over into the oncoming lane and now she's dead and three teens are in critical care.<br /><br />And, hundreds of thousands have been laid off.<br /><br />And, hundreds of thousands have suffered foreclosure on their family home.<br /><br />And, a million kids graduated from college this last month, carrying the baggage of huge school loans and there are no jobs.<br /><br />And, the children's hospital is full.<br /><br />And, the prisons are full.<br /><br />And, life for many is a bitch.<br /><br />And, And, And<br /><br />Gosh I feel better.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-74801348758169062982010-06-01T14:20:00.000-07:002010-06-01T14:41:57.433-07:00SummertimeDarling Amanda turned 27 over the Memorial Day weekend. She had friends and family over to our house for an old fashioned hot-dog, hamburger cookout. It was a modest little gathering by Jackson standards but a whole lot of fun never the less. I made note that we had our first Amanda birthday party in this back yard twenty one years ago, celebrating her 6th birthday. That backyard has seen a lot of memories. I've been blessed to be surrounded by many people with musical talent, so most all the parties had live music of some sort. This was no different. The evening ended with the un-holy trio of Lance (Amanda's husband), Lance's brother Blake and their good friend Eric digging through a box of song charts I had, looking for something to perform. Now, understand the charts are nothing more than the lyrics with the chords written above them. So, if you don't know the song, you are out of luck.<br /><br />Unless you are the un-holy trio. Eric and Lance provided the guitar licks and Blake sang the songs, making up the melodies as they went along. If only those songwriters could have been there to see what they could have written instead of what they did.<em> Help me make it through the night </em>has a whole new deal. Sorry Kris!<br /><br />As said, there have been many good memories spawned at Amanda's parties. Our friends Curt and Karen, just a little tipsy, swinging hard on our wooden swing until the S hook straightened out and they went crashing to the ground. No one harmed.<br /><br />And my old best friends brother Jerry waving his arms around as he got more involved in the story he was telling until I warned him to watch out for the ceiling fan. "What fan?" he said sticking his hand straight up and destroying a $400 ceiling fan. Yeah, I know, you can buy'm for fifty bucks, but not if your wife wants just that one particular fan.<br /><br />The one thing that we all agreed on was that it was a good thing to be older because the party ended at a reasonable hour instead of going to the wee hours.<br /><br />Well, happy birthday baby and next year you'll have that little one to help celebrate. Probably means the party will end even sooner.<br /><br />That's OK.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-56263973634574174112010-05-28T09:47:00.000-07:002010-05-28T10:23:51.730-07:00HonorI was talking to a fella recently about a business deal and at the end I asked if we needed to write anything down. He stuck out his hand and said "This is all I need." We shook on it and as far as I'm concerned that was as strong as any contract.<br /><br />I'm a born and bred Mid-Westerner. Missouri to Illinois. In twenty years of running an insurance sales office I noticed a distinct pattern. Not absolute but enough to notice. Mid-Westerners showed up to meetings on time. Southwester's and Californio's didn't. I was told once to -just relax. It's no big deal. We're just not as uptight.<br /><br />They miss the point. It's not about being uptight. It's about honor. You agreed to the meeting then you agreed to show up on time. It's a matter of your word. If you can't make it on time, say so. One of my very pet peeves is being promised something will happen, then it doesn't. It is really easy. Say what you're going to do, then do it. Don't say it unless you mean it, if you mean it then do it. If you can't do it, say you can't do it. If you intend to do it, but something gets in the way, call as soon as you can and explain why you can't do it. <br /><br />Why do I bring this up? I see many young people brought up to be okay with just being kinda close to honoring their word. "Don't worry about him, he's always late." Bad on him. If I can't trust him to keep his word about being on time, I can't trust him to keep his word on much else.<br /><br />"Son, I want you to take out the garbage."<br />"Sure, Dad."<br />"Son, why didn't you take out the garbage?"<br /> "What's the big deal, they'll be around again in a couple of days."<br /> "The big deal has nothing to do with garbage. The big deal has to do with you giving me your word you would take it out."<br />"I didn't give you my word."<br />"You agreed to take it out."<br />"But I never said I give you my word."<br />"Who's words were they?"<br /><br />This can be a lesson for my daughter and all her friends but it's a lesson for some older folks too. We were at a gathering of family and friends and one of the invited called to say they would be a few minutes late. This was met with amusement. They must be really uptight to call just because of a few minutes. My thought was - right on!<br /><br />How do you teach someone? Tell'm, tell'm what you told'm then tell'm again.<br /><br />Here's the lesson. Don't say you'll do something unless you are going to do it. Don't agree to someone else's timetable unless you are positive you can meet it. If you can't say so. You can still do the thing, but it must be known that the timing will be yours. If you can't do something, or you can't do it in the timeframe requested, then say you can't do it. Don't just try to make people happy by agreeing to something you know will not come to pass. They will be much unhappier when the promised thing doesn't get done.<br /><br />And, if you do these things you can go to sleep knowing that whatever else, you are an honorable person.<br /><br />I guess some of you would think I'm just a grouchy old stickler.<br /><br />What's that got to do with what I'm talking about.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-61501702777755318802010-05-26T13:58:00.000-07:002010-05-26T14:05:52.109-07:00Starting a new painting<div>Thanks for all the kind comments on my last painting "First Roundup". Kind words are always appreciated. I've started a new one. A friend of mine, and a fine photographer, John Foley, took a series of promotional pictures of a dancer for her portfolio then at the end he shot some more just for himself. One of these really caught my attention and he has given me permission to paint it. See below. What you are seeing is the first step which is to pencil draw the portrait. The next stop is to begin putting oil to canvas. The working title is "Hard Audition".</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Thanks John!!<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475687469816985794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiOqf3YLQFCu8nlTmPLxfhxUmcrc1tbKLraHyI_08A1gRq4f_pMOt-rBFI6nGXALiwrJMR9AzSw6iXnahR6Qdigxh478GvImy-b_m5ixnqostd7syUsWwacMA9-1XQRlxlthIYSr4Qteli/s400/Ballerina+004.jpg" /></div><br /><div></div>samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-53965621549544950312010-05-17T14:09:00.000-07:002010-05-17T14:31:43.969-07:00Quail Fest 2010To my tight nit group of quail hunting friends the two and sometimes three trips out into the wild to hunt those elusive little birds has become along the importance of Christmas and New Years. You can guess that the birds on a scale of one to ten in importance of the trip ranks around a four. As far as the yield, some years are banner years and some are not. With the situation of the drought the last three years, they have been mostly not. We'd get birds but not in large quantity.<br /><br />So, imagine our surprise when my friend Brent pulled the frozen little critters out of the freezer we had almost eighty of them. More than enough for what isn't but should be an annual gathering of the hunters and wives for a quail feast. Quail Fest we call it. Brent held it at his house and took charge cooking the bacon rapped birds on the grill. The rest was potluck with lots of food to be had. It was a great time. Charlie came up with a hilarious list of what should be future Quail Camp Etiquette which I would list but I didn't get a copy. Maybe later.<br /><br />After the meal, the scotch and the cigars came out and for some reason the women disappeared into the house. It didn't take long for the conversations of the men to completely resemble the questionable discussions around the hunting night fire. Questions like if Colin's fascination with Andrew Boccelli was sufficient enough to cast a pall on his sexuality? And, like just exactly when during the night does scotch begin to taste like spiced rum. Questions like, just how can a grown man get shot by a single BB in the tongue? Does that man hunt quail with his tongue hanging out like Michael Jordan going for a layup. And, was the guy that shot him a really good shot, or a really bad shot?<br /><br />And, should each of us wear junk protectors when hunting with the likes of us?<br /><br />All good questions that were never sufficiently answered. We were simply laughing too hard. Yes we are that easily entertained.<br /><br />Off to Pana this week. Be back a week from tomorrow.<br /><br />Be well, do good.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-16415135594211456122010-05-14T15:18:00.000-07:002010-05-14T15:39:55.852-07:00Time doth flyHard to believe but Carol and I are heading to the cabin in Pana next week. I've waited for this since last November and it always seemed so far away, now it's here. We are informed by Carol's family that all seems to be in working order. It's a blessing having family back there to keep an eye on things.<br /><br />Things seem to go so quickly. Soon newspapers will be obsolete. Books will be downloaded, making my bookshelves irrelevant. Gone will be music albums or CD's, everything downloaded at 69 cents a song to your mp3 - whatever that is. Soon the network television channels will be just another number on the remote. Movies can be streamed directly to your laptop which will be replaced by the I-Pad or something like it. Children will become sickly from being indoors all the time playing Nintendo type games. Imagination will be banned and any college kid thinking outside the box will be expelled. The country will be completely divided between ambivalent liberals and the knuckle draggers. Each will start only shopping at their designated retail outlets as long as they last, which won't be long. On line shopping will replace money. Investors will be able to buy gold out of ATM type dispensers. Three mega- conglomerations will own majority shares in all major corporations and their CEO's will be given one of the smaller eastern states as compensation. Geek will take over Hollywood and only really despicably pimpled boys that can belch at will are stars. Actresses will remain young, skinny and beautiful but no longer will fall for the handsome actor, only the bespeckled pimple popper will get the girl. And the bigger and grosser the booger or penis joke the bigger the gross receipts. Gross receipts takes on a new meaning.<br /><br />Ah Pana, where are you. I'm ready for a little redneck ignorance. None of our neighbors in Pana have computers. They believe bowling is a national sport and their children run barefoot and fish with Zebco 202's. The state drink is PBR and a cocktail is a glass of whiskey on the side.<br /><br />Here we come!!!!samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-76042690238832598582010-05-11T14:12:00.000-07:002010-05-11T14:41:03.784-07:00There is a Counselor in the family.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREhyphenhyphenOx15anpsPg5ohQGNhYvEMOX1vuNzRrp7rrmlp__x6vF8cH6PyGUptiTjtgaeAC3tB1GA9Lz7cCl-yXDZDcQXnk4O9MgYTWv4oPlK9mypy7-VjhRKFWknwOK08fAgwgL8wr7U1BiF7/s1600/Amanda's+Masters+Graduation+5-7-10+048_edited-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470128508104014930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgREhyphenhyphenOx15anpsPg5ohQGNhYvEMOX1vuNzRrp7rrmlp__x6vF8cH6PyGUptiTjtgaeAC3tB1GA9Lz7cCl-yXDZDcQXnk4O9MgYTWv4oPlK9mypy7-VjhRKFWknwOK08fAgwgL8wr7U1BiF7/s400/Amanda's+Masters+Graduation+5-7-10+048_edited-1.jpg" /></a><br /><div>Thank God! Now all us messed up people can get help at family discount rates.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Amanda and the extended family traveled to Flagstaff Friday to attend Amanda's graduation for her Master's degree. The weather was perfect, the ceremony ended just as my butt turned numb and the restaurants were packed but manageable. We had a great time. It was gratifying to sit on the outside second story, narrow balcony of the Travel Lodge in chairs we drug from our rooms and hung out like one big hillbilly family. It seemed like we had the entire second floor for no one dared venture up there. Only when the boys brought out cigars did the girls move far away. The highlight - besides Amanda getting her diploma of course - was at one point we were all listening to the gurgling delightful sounds of Allison and Blake's baby, Fischer. The first grandchild. It was wonderful, he wasn't asleep but seemed perfectly happy, gurgling and cooing over the little monitor they had in the room with him. He was just living in that world that babies live in. He seemed so happy no one wanted to check on him for fear of ruining the moment. But, of course, Mom finally had to check, so Allison went to the room and a moment later stepped back out, her eyes as big as saucers and her mouth working like a fish on land.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>The boy had done a very big job. I mean a very big job. And by golly, it's just as much fun as silly putty. Poop was everywhere. From head to foot and on everything within reach. I did mention we were at the Travel Lodge, not the Ritz. There was no ventilation, no exhaust fans, no windows that would open and man oh man that room was ripe. I think they ended up purchasing a case of Frebreeze.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I tell you what, I was proud of the boy. I couldn't have done better myself.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And, of course we are all proud of our dear Amanda. Way to go girl!</div>samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-44392018373157928722010-05-11T10:35:00.000-07:002010-05-11T10:50:04.708-07:00I stole thisI saw this on a website online and had to share it. I love good writing and especially if there is truth involved. I don't know if I can get in trouble for copying this but I don't care. I give tribute to the author.<br /><br /><em>SENTIMENTAL EDUCATION by TONY HOAGLAND</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>AND WHEN WE WERE EIGHT, OR NINE</em><br /><em>OUR FATHER TOOK US BACK INTO THE ALABAMA WOODS,</em><br /><em>FOUND A ROTTEN LOG, AND WITH HIS HUNTING KNIFE</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>PRIED OFF A SLAB OF BARK</em><br /><em>TO SHOW THE HUNDRED KINDS OF BUGS AND GRUBS</em><br /><em>THAT WE WOULD HAVE TO EAT IN A TIME OF WAR.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>"THE ONES WHO WILL SURVIVE," HE TOLD US</em><br /><em>LOOKING AT US HARD,</em><br /><em>"ARE THE ONES WHO ARE WILLING TO DO ANYTHING."</em><br /><em>THEN HE POPPED ONE OF THOSE PALE SLUGS</em><br /><em>INTO HIS MOUTH AND STARTED CHEWING.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>AND THAT WAS LESSON NUMBER 4</em><br /><em>IN "THE GREEN BERET BOOK OF CHILDREARING."</em><br /><em></em><br />I LOOKED AT MY PALE, SCRAWNY, KNOCK-KNEED, BUG EYED BROTHER,<br />WHO WAS IDENTICAL TO ME<br />AND SAW THAT, IN A WORLD THAT ATE THE WEAK<br />WE DIDN'T HAVE A PRAYER.<br /><br />AND NEXT THING I REMEMBER, I'M WORKING FOR A LIVING<br />AT A BORING JOB<br />THAT I'M AFRAID OF LOSING.<br /><br />WITH A WIFE WHOSE LACK OF LOVE FOR ME<br />IS LIKE A LACK OF OXYGEN,<br />AND THIS DEAD THING IN MY CHEST<br />THAT USED TO BE MY HEART.<br /><br />OH, IF HE WERE ALIVE, I WOULD TELL HIM, "DAD,<br />YOU WERE RIGHT! I ATE A LOT OF STUFF<br />FAR WORSE THAN BUGS."<br /><br />AND I WAS EATEN, I WAS EATEN,<br />I WAS PICKED UP<br />AND CHEWED<br />AND SWALLOWED<br /><br />DOWN INTO THE BELLY OF THE WORLD.<br /><br />I realize why this hit a nerve with me. Between the age of 19 and 29 I lived that despair.<br /><br />Be well, do good.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-31381915788373250562010-05-06T09:50:00.000-07:002010-05-06T10:12:53.947-07:00Who's Kit Carson?Amanda just asked what I was blogging about. I said, "Who's Kit Carson?" She said, "Kit Carson, did he die?" I said, "Do you know who he is?" She laughed, "No."<br /><br />That's my blog. Being an old guy I worry that some things of our culture will fade away. I was researching images of the Old West for subject matter for my next painting and I came across an old, old photo of Kit Carson. The famed scout that led the way down the Santa Fe trail. The Santa Fe what?<br /><br />See what I mean. <br /><br />As a boy the settling of America, to me, wasn't that far away. My great grandparents were pioneers, coming from Kentucky and Virginia in wagons to settle in the west. Putnam County Missouri. Carol's great grandparents came from Uvalde Texas before the Civil War and settled in Macon County Illinois. We both grew up with family photos and interesting stories of these pioneers. As a child of ten almost 80% of television shows were westerns. Gunsmoke and Wagon Train and Wild Bill Hickok with Jingles his side kick. Wyatt Earp with his natty clothes and his Buntline Special. (It was a specially made, long barreled pistol.)<br /><br />I grew up reading the exploits of Daniel Boone and Davy Crocket. "Davy, Davy Crocket, king of the wild frontier". As kids, we played at being Mountain Men, roaming the wild Rocky Mountains in search of beaver and other fur bearing critters. Every boy in my fifth grade knew who Kit Carson was.<br /><br />This connection to our past is fading with each generation. Ask your twenty something today to name a pioneer and you'll likely get Bill Gates. Or the slightly more educated might say Neal Armstrong. Both would be right but, the men and women that build our country from the wilderness are largely forgotten. Too bad.<br /><br />They say this is the information age. The age of sound bites and snippets of headlines on the Internet maybe. Seems to me like the information about our forefathers is on page ten of the search engine. You know, so far back you've given up before you get there.<br /><br />Buried and soon to be forgotten.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-46972491645277868132010-05-03T14:53:00.000-07:002010-05-03T15:49:21.240-07:00This and That AgainAin't human nature grand?<br /><br />I just shake my head over this. There is a huge uproar across the United States and into Washington, California and certainly Arizona about this new illegal immigration bill the Governor has signed into law recently. It is interesting and dismaying to see how easily we humans can be emotionally swayed. Swayed by emotion, not with reason. Just a couple of weeks before the 2008 presidential election, Vice President Dick Cheney gave a powerful damning speech that was widely covered in the press. In effect he said that if John Kerry were elected President the radical terrorists would be on our shores within days. I know those weren't his words but it's what he said. 4% of the frightened undecided switched to President Bush in those two weeks and he won re-election.<br /><br />Just days before Governor Brewer was to make her decision about whether to sign the immigration bill or not, a southern Arizona rancher was murdered. Almost everyone supporting the bill jumped on this terrible circumstance to bring justification to passing the bill. It was widely reported that footprints had been found leading back to Mexico. Everyone thought the heinous deed was committed by an illegal, probably a drug smuggler. People went up in arms and the Governor signed the bill.<br /><br />Now the Pinal County Sheriff is indicating that the person suspected of the crime was probably not an illegal at all, but an American citizen. Really? An American? Too late. The wolf is loose. No one but the immediate family will remember nor care what nationality the murderer will turn out to be.<br /><br />We are so easily led.<br /><br />On another note, is it possible to be ready for the onset of summer? When I was growing up in the mid-west we couldn't wait for summer. Warm weather, fishing, baseball, Fourth of July, picnics, getting a tan. Now it's like waiting for hell to break loose. Thank God it's only four months. I'll do the best I can with my swimming pool and cold drinks. Okay, maybe it's not that bad. Okay, maybe I like some of it. When else am I forced to go the mountains to relax?<br /><br />Here's another thing. Most know that Amanda's having a baby in September. Suddenly in my house I'm finding car seats and pack'n plays and baby stuff. "What's all this," I ask Carol. I get the look. We're being prepared. When my first kids were babies we put them in blanket lined bathtubs. Their playpens were cardboard boxes. Best invention ever, a wind up swing that put the kid to sleep in thirteen seconds flat.<br /><br />In the book Tortilla Flat, John Steinbeck wrote about the Mexican woman who had several little babies to care for. She was very poor and lived in a shack with a dirt floor. She would cook her frijoles and then toss them on the floor and the fat little naked babies would crawl around and stuff the beans in their eager mouths. One day the local Doctor came to visit and was aghast at this dreadful state of affairs. He insisted she cover the floor and insisted she bath the children regularly and feed them from a table with clean utensils. Within days all the little babies fell ill. The wise woman went back to her dirt floor and tossing her frijoles and the babies went back to stuffing the beans in their eager mouths. And they all became healthy and fat again.<br /><br />My friend Charlie and I have talked about the wild and unfettered things we did as growing boys and neither can remember anyone dying from it.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-82037891687167140062010-04-30T11:41:00.000-07:002010-04-30T12:00:45.425-07:00Proud to be a Papa.....It's days like today that make all the trials and tribulations of being a parent worth while. My darling Amanda is finishing her last day of internship at Terros and will graduate next week with her Masters in counseling. Her Mom and I are so pride. There just aren't the words.<br /><br />Now the girl is eduakated she can go forth and save the world. I'm personally counting on it. Time for the new generation to take up the mantle, pick up the gauntlet and pull the sword from the stone and go charge the awaiting world. I firmly believe that Amanda can make a difference one human at a time. What a wonderful, exciting and scary feeling it must be. To be on the cusp of your adult life with a baby growing inside you and the whole world out there waiting for you to go get it. Oh, I miss those times. As Yogi Berra once said, "Youth is wasted on the wrong people." Oh to have that excitement again.<br /><br />My life effectively started when in October of 1979 Carol and I loaded everything we owned, including the dog, in a Ryder truck and our '74 Mustang and drove west. No jobs, no place of our own waiting, nothing but high expectations and the absolute feeling that nothing could deter us.<br /><br />This is what Lance and Amanda have now and they will look back at these days and realize that this was one of the best times of their lives. Uncertain, scary and exhilarating all at the same time.<br /><br />I'm jealous.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-965726827679105552010-04-29T14:07:00.000-07:002010-04-29T14:20:14.888-07:00More ShelHere's another little piece of wonderful from Shel Silverstein;<br /><br /><div align="center"><em>MA AND GOD</em></div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><em></em> </div><div align="left"><em>GOD GAVE US FINGERS - MA SAYS, "USE YOUR FORK."</em></div><div align="left"><em>GOD GAVE US VOICES - MA SAYS, "DON'T SCREAM."</em></div><div align="left"><em>MA SAYS EAT BROCCOLI, CEREAL AND CARROTS</em></div><div align="left"><em>BUT GOD GAVE US TASTEYS FOR MAPLE ICED CREAM</em></div><div align="left"><em> </em></div><div align="left"><em></em> </div><div align="left"><em>GOD GAVE US FINGERS - MA SAYS, "USE YOUR HANKY."</em></div><div align="left"><em>GOD GAVE US PUDDLES - MA SAYS, "DON'T SPLASH."</em></div><div align="left"><em>MA SAYS, "BE QUIET, YOUR FATHER IS SLEEPING."</em></div><div align="left"><em>BUT GOD GAVE US GARBAGE CAN COVERS TO CRASH</em></div><div align="left"><em></em> </div><div align="left"><em>GOD GAVE US FINGERS - MA SAYS, "PUT YOUR GLOVES ON."</em></div><div align="left"><em>GOD GAVE US RAINDROPS - MA SAYS, "DON'T GET WET."</em></div><div align="left"><em>MA SAYS BE CAREFUL, AND DON'T GET TO NEAR TO</em></div><div align="left"><em>THOSE STRANGE LOVELY DOGS THAT GOD GAVE US TO PET.</em></div><div align="left"><em></em> </div><div align="left"><em>GOD GAVE US FINGERS - MA SAYS, "GO WASH'EM."</em></div><div align="left"><em>BUT GOD GAVE US COAL BINS AND NICE DIRTY BODIES.</em></div><div align="left"><em>AND I AIN'T TOO SMART, BUT THERE'S ONE THING FOR CERTAIN--</em></div><div align="left"><em>EITHER MA'S WRONG OR ELSE GOD IS.</em></div>samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-86564996026471186742010-04-27T15:41:00.000-07:002010-04-27T15:59:16.529-07:00Have you ever washed a Bulldog?The bell rings and the two combatants begin to size each other up. The smart combatant tries to tie the smarter combatant to a tree. This is necessary to keep the dog in the vicinity of the bathing area. And, I'm alone so I only have two hands and can't wash and hold at the same time. She's looking at me with those big soulful eyes wondering what ungodly hell I'm about to propagate. I start the hose. I have a nozzle on the hose so I can facilitate a fine spray. Not so fine to her. She gets me in a double half nelson and takes my legs out from under me. I'm the one getting wet. Undaunted I try to direct the spray at her. As soon as it hits her she begins to shake. I get wetter. I regain my feet and spray her from a distance. She calls me a coward and challenges me to close quarters. I get the baby shampoo. Yes, baby shampoo. Other shampoos sting when she gets it in my eyes. I pour the shampoo in my hand and we begin the race around the tree. She is so fast that soon she laps me and damn her nose is cold. Finally I grab her around the neck and try to massage the shampoo in. Most of it finds the ground and I have to break off and reload. I try again. This time I manage to get some on her body. Holding her with my legs I'm lathering her up and she begins that damned shaking again. Now globs of foam are hitting me like I'm going through the car wash. I get some on her back and that makes her slippery. She's loose and around the tree we go again. Three out of four heats. Now I take command. Holding her collar with the hand and arm that is about to be jerked out of its socket I try more lather. Ten percent makes it onto her coat. The rest is on my chest and belly. I begin to foam up. I come in for the last round. We are a whirlwind of ears and tail and soap and feet and fat white man. In desperation I roll away. I take up the nozzle and spray her from ten feet away. She doesn't flinch. She dares me to come back in. <br /><br />I give up. I spray the soap off of me and untie her.<br /><br />She runs around the back yard then goes behind the boat and rolls in the dirt.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-33353396135134729622010-04-26T10:57:00.000-07:002010-04-26T11:20:22.042-07:00God loves the little girlsIt's a girl!! Amanda had her ultra-sound and there were no appendages except those you walk on or grasp with. I'm told that this is only the second girl (Aunt Jamie being the first) in a very long lineage of Robinsons. I only have brothers but I'm blessed with girls. My daughter Samantha has three and now Amanda will have one.<br /><br />I've always loved the girls. I had my first girlfriend when I was six. Her name was Louise Baldwin and she lived on the corner. She had red hair and freckles and I can't read about Charlie Brown's crush on the little red headed girl without thinking of her. Louise's father was a minister and kept a close eye. My next love was Dina Lee Martin. She was good friends with my cousin Vicky. I remember setting on the school swing and holding her hand. I think we were in the third grade. When I was ten we had moved to Decatur and I became smitten with Linda Roberts. She wrote me letters and at the bottom next to her signature she would write "smack, smack". Two kisses. My Dad teased me about about my Chinese girlfriend "Linda Smack Smack!" I guess I was bad luck. Both Dina Lee and Linda died early in their lives.<br /><br />They called it puppy love but at the time is was a big dog to me.<br /><br />I was thrilled when Amanda was born and I saw I had a girl. I wasn't really the kind of Dad that wanted to do all those soccer and Little League things. Well, there was no soccer or Little League but there were the song and dance troupes, the school talent contests and the school choirs. So, I did the same amount of transporting just to different venues.<br /><br />Now Amanda and Lance get the joy and responsibility of thinking up a moniker for the kid. This is a big responsibility. The little thing will have to bear the name all it's life. When I was growing up everyone called my Dad, Tramp. Tramp Jackson. I was at least seven or eight before I realized that wasn't his real name. Mom called him Dad. Walking down the street in Unionville..."Hey, aren't you Tramp Jackson's boy?"<br /><br />His real name ---Cecil Francis.<br /><br />Yep. It's a big responsibility.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-11416379373644853872010-04-24T14:44:00.000-07:002010-04-25T17:51:06.033-07:00Red and Yellow, Black and WhiteWhen I was nine years old my Mom and Dad split up and my Mom moved us from the idyllic Mayberry type existence in Unionville Missouri population 1200 to the smelly industrialized city of Decatur Illinois, population 100,000. Can we say cultural shock?<br /><br />Because of arcane and racist "sundown laws" in Unionville I had never seen a black person in my life. For those sheltered ones, a sundown law said a person of color could not be in the city limits past sundown. No I'm not joking.<br /><br />In Decatur we moved in with my Mother's sister, <em>Aunt Sis</em>. She lived in a two bedroom apartment two short blocks from the downtown courthouse. There were buildings so tall that cricked my neck looking up at them. Our playground became the downtown area of Decatur. The first friend I made was a black kid by the name of Heshless Dismuke. Not joking.<br /><br />The church was a very important part of Mom's life and Aunt Sis's son was an elder of the church. When Vacation Bible School was announced for the summer they were all excited. Me, not so much. Mostly they sang inane songs and played stupid games and made you memorize the books in the bible. One of the songs sang a lot - <em>Red or yellow black or white, they are precious in his sight, Jesus loves the little children of the world!</em><br /><br />All the adults were entreating every kid to bring all their friends. I only had one. So I asked him and he said sure. Then I told the adults who I was bringing.<br /><br />"Well, honey, they have their own church. He just wouldn't fit in here."<br /><br />Nine years old and discovering blatant prejudice.<br /><br />So now the new immigration law in Arizona. I still recognize prejudice 54 years later and it still is ugly. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. My God, what a State. Where's the simplicity of Ev Mecham when you need him. At least he did no lasting harm and you could just laugh at his foolish actions.<br /><br />I know they are here illegally. But their great sin is that the vast majority of them are here to find a better life for themselves and their families. Like the Pilgrims. Instead of a law to arrest them, how about a law to form a reasonable path to citizenship. Prove you have at least five years of paying local, state and national taxes. Then go on a five year plan to citizenship which includes education provided to learn to speak English and learn the laws and culture of our country. If you don't have five years of history here then you have to prove you have an American sponsor - a long term job or long term income or you sign up for a work program that proves you are willing to work full time and pay taxes. If you don't work enough, you go back. If you do work enough you buy you own health care insurance. You buy car insurance and you have to prove such things to your local immigration office.<br /><br />We are voting on a one cent tax to help education among other essentials. This new law will cost us far more in lost tourism dollars. We just went backwards.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-1316434009075605342010-04-20T15:41:00.000-07:002010-04-20T15:52:41.950-07:00Shel SilversteinHere's some fun from one of my favorite whimsical writers:<br /><br /><strong><em>Boa Constrictor</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br /><em>Oh, I'm being eaten</em><br /><em>By a boa constrictor,</em><br /><em>A boa constrictor,</em><br /><em>A boa constrictor,</em><br /><em>I'm being eaten by a boa constrictor,</em><br /><em>And I don't like it - one bit.</em><br /><em>Well, what do you know?</em><br /><em>It's nibblin' my toe.</em><br /><em>Oh, gee,</em><br /><em>It's up to my knee.</em><br /><em>Oh my,</em><br /><em>It's up to my thigh.</em><br /><em>Oh, fiddle,</em><br /><em>It's up to my middle.</em><br /><em>Oh, heck,</em><br /><em>It's up to my neck.</em><br /><em>Oh, dread,</em><br /><em>It's upmmmmmmmmmmfffffff........</em><br /><br />Here's the quote of the day;<br /><br /><em>Man prefers to believe what he prefers to be true.</em><br /><p>Sir Francis Bacon</p><br /><br /><em></em>samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-13099637025338689102010-04-19T11:46:00.001-07:002010-04-19T12:12:38.500-07:00This and That!I saw where Taylor Swift was skunked at the Country Music awards. This after winning almost everything last year. The bloom is off the rose. The country music fans are realizing that the Emperor's new clothes don't really exist and the poor man is parading around naked. I actually feel bad for the poor girl. Being surrounded at such a young age with sudden success and sudden money and an entourage telling her how simply precious every move she makes is. Then crash and burn. Better, maybe to have a normal life. Be the "Average Girl".<br /><br />I saw also where two top al-Qaeda leaders were killed in Iraq. This pleased me and then I began to wonder why it did. Pastor Larry preaches each Sunday that we should develop a personal relationship with God and follow and worship Jesus Christ. I don't have a problem with these guys being killed from a God point of view. God pretty much kills everything and everyone indiscriminately. But, the Jesus of the New Testament, now I wonder what he would think of such things. Turn the other cheek?<br /><br />There is not a doubt in my mind that the overwhelming consensus of the church goers I see on Sundays would welcome the news of these killings. Maybe a couple of tree hugging, granola eating little girls would object, but mostly the deaths would be celebrated. So that begs the question; can you celebrate and worship Jesus Christ as the Prince of Peace follow his teachings and still be happy these two guys died. Is this hypocritical? How about blowing the bejeasus out of a bunch of Iraqis with a bomb from a drone that hits not just the bad guys but collateral damage as well. See how easy it is to discount human life -- collateral damage.<br /><br />So another question; politically I see more hatred from the Republicans and Democrats and independents and Green partiers and the Tea Party people than I've ever seen in my life. And millions of these people go to church. And millions of them consider themselves devout Christians, so can you hate so violently and be a Christian.<br /><br />I don't know, but I do have trouble believing that the two can co-exist. They really should give up one or the other.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-70222725290431074422010-04-16T10:26:00.000-07:002010-04-16T10:54:02.645-07:00How to raise those kids?At my age I usually find myself to be invisible to anyone under thirty. I can stand at a retail counter for hours and if I don't wave a hand in front of the youngster on duty's face, they won't even know I'm there. No, this isn't a pity party, ask anyone over 55 and they will tell you the same thing,<br />Now, that being said, I was gratified that while I was at a Easter gathering of my peers and their twenty something children that had their own little babies that my opinion was actually asked for. I was so shocked that I immediately fell into my routine and replied something smart ass. Then I realized they were serious.<br /><br />The question was : How did I or would I react if I found a bag of marijuana in my teenagers room? And what would I do if they lied about it and completely denied it.<br /><br />The reaction in the room ranged from the young mother just being mortified to the young father grounding the child for life. There was even some thought about corporal punishment.<br /><br />My response was this: You can't punish character into a child.<br /><br />I'm not sure this is verbatim of what I said but here's what I meant. First of all, if I can't tell when my child is lying to me, I've already lost control. The thing that gives me the advantage is that I came from a harder background than the young parents in the room. They had mostly been raised in the church by Christian parents and had only Christian peers around them their whole teen years.<br /><br />In my early teen years I ran with a gang of hooligans that thought nothing of causing trouble. I was drinking and smoking by age 12. I had used marijuana before I was out of high school. I wasn't a bad kid, just a disconnected one. Because of this I was acutely aware of my children's behaviour. If they were smoking dope there would be no way I wouldn't know about it. But, what would I do if they did?<br /><br />There has to be consequences for unacceptable behaviour. What is unacceptable behaviour has to be learned by the child from the moment they are aware and can think on their own. I don't remember ever spanking Amanda or Samantha but if I did the failure was mine, not theirs. I did spank my son once but the offense deserved the punishment. If the child is raised with whole hearted love and at the same time is held accountable for his or her actions from the get go, then when they reach teendom the character in the child should already be set.<br /><br />All children will make mistakes. All teens will experiment. All older teens will push the envelope to see how far they get. These are as natural as rain. It's the parents job to understand this and to know their child and react accordingly.<br /><br />My smart ass reply: <em>If it's good shit find out who the dealer is!</em><br /><em></em><br />Now don't have a cow, it's just a little humor.<br /><em></em><br /><em></em>samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-20315364632144369262010-04-14T10:41:00.000-07:002010-04-14T10:57:43.245-07:00Where have all the pretty girls gone?You know how sometimes something stops being around and you don't notice it's gone until suddenly something reminds you of it and then you realize that you really miss it and you're sad because it's no longer there.<br /><br />When I was young one of my favorite movies/musicals was West Side Story. The Sharks and the Jets. "When you're a Jet you're a Jet all the way from your first cigarette till your last dying day." And Marie singing "I feel pretty, Oh so pretty......" and all the girls with long luscious hair and pretty dresses.<br /><br />I was driving home the other day, coming south on 32nd Street just before Shea and there on a corner waiting to cross was a solitary girl, probably a student from Shadow Mountain High School and I was slammed with the realization that I had been missing something.<br /><br />She had long dark hair and was wearing a very pretty, very pink dress. Yes, I said dress! A real honest to God feminine dress. That was pretty. No belly showing above low slung jeans, no tattoo on the small of the back, no spiked hair, no piercings that I could see. And, she was smiling. Happy to be in this world. Standing on the corner looking like a very pretty girly girl.<br /><br />When did girls stop wanting to look like girls. What fashion creep put it into their heads that the tougher they looked or the more starkly modern they looked the better they looked. <br /><br />In just that one instant I realized that I miss dresses on women. Not so much on my friend Charlie but definitely on women. Pant suits - bah! Dresses - yea!samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-47263023152010119582010-04-06T16:30:00.001-07:002010-04-06T16:49:04.603-07:00I held the future in my handsYou all know that I'm a big fan of the Charlie Rose show on PBS. I record it every day then once or twice a week I'll run through the shows and watch the ones that interest me and ditch the rest. If you haven't seen the show it is a daily interview, sometimes with just one person about one topic, sometimes up to three different interviews and topics. He interviews everyone from politicians to entertainment folks, new movies, new music, scientists, economists, everyone. I was having a heated political discussion with some friends that don't share my point of view and finally one of them asked an intelligent question "where do you get your information?" My answer, <em>mostly from the Charlie Rose show</em>. He interviews everyone no matter which side of the aisle, and he doesn't give commentary, he just asks and listens. There isn't another show like it.<br /><br />The topic of discussion I watched yesterday was about the new Apple I-Pad. OMG! This skinny little 1 1/2 lb thing is amazing. It and it's future generations will be laptop killers. The cost at Best Buy starts at $499 depending on how powerful you need it, but it can do so much. Internet, word processing, download books, overhead imaging, just about everything. Kid's getting rowdy in the back seat, pass the I-Pad. Bored on the plane, watch the I-Pad. About the only two negatives is that it doesn't have a application for running Adobe video and it doesn't have a camera. It is so small and thin it is just amazing at its capabilities. It needs no mouse and is the most responsive touch control I've ever seen. Like if you are reading a book you place your finger in the corner and roll back the page just like you would with a hard copy, except you don't have to wet your finger.<br /><br />And no, I haven't changed my mind about prefering real hard bound books. But, I must say if it's something light and disposable, and I'm traveling, hmmmmmm. Just maybe.<br /><br />I went to Best Buy over lunch and checked it out. They had floor models but had sold out in a week, or less. Just imagine how cheap this thing will be in a year. No, I can't wait that long. <br /><br />I told Carol about it and she said she had already planned on getting one. Ha! See, you can't get one past me, I'm so far ahead of the curve. My next blog will be about Plasma TV's and these new fangled digital camera. Imagine that, no film. What am I going to do with all of those Poloroid packs I have in my frig?samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6818771887889503205.post-25270709896250352222010-04-05T13:32:00.000-07:002010-04-05T13:59:26.160-07:00Such a curious worldI watched something yesterday on <em>60 minutes</em> the television show that left me shaking my head in wonder. I guess a while back a company used human genes to develop something that helped clean up oil spills. I'm a little vague about what exactly but the point is that a court ruling allowed them to patent it. The flood gates opened and bingo, companies began to patent different human genes left and right.<br /><br />Now because of this, if you are a woman and want to test for breast cancer you can only get the test through one particular company because they <em>own </em>the gene that when mutated causes breast cancer.<br /><br />Huh? They own the human gene? The one in every woman's body? The one that was created by your parents. Or some might say, invented by God! It's not like the company invented it like the light bulb. They just got a patent on it. How can they do that? Does this even make an iota of sense?<br /><br />The good news is that this is finally being challenged in court. Let's hope smarter minds prevail.<br /><br />One other thing. Most of you that know me know of my opinion of President George W Bush. If you don't know let's just say the I personally think the guy is the worst President of my lifetime. But, I saw something that actually I have to give him kudos for. In 2004 he starting a program that sent life saving drugs to the HIV riddled Africa. Some of which would cost a patient here $300 a month. People there make $6 a month. HIV was a death sentence. His program has saved hundreds of thousands of lives. I know that my Pastor says you don't have to earn your way to heaven but if you did this just might be W's ticket.<br /><br />Way to go George. You have my admiration on this one.samleejacksonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347891345516893429noreply@blogger.com0