Another in an occasional series wherein I point out things heard on radio or TV that, when read aloud, likely weren't what the writer meant to convey.
Today's entry, from our afternoon viewing of re-runs from a current PBS mini-series:
Corporate funding for "The War" was provided by ...I think this may have been the military-industrial complex against which Eisenhower warned us.
The war will continue through Tuesday evening.
Last night, whilst Izzy & several friends went to go see folks deal with (violate?) the Decalogue, I decided to go back to the Riverwalk to take pictures. It's been really low lately, and I thought I might be able to get some nice shots of the rocks.
Turns out, all that damp, exposed riverbed was too much temptation! I quickly abandoned the paved trail, and I ended up traipsing around the bridge area for about 90 minutes near dusk. I decided to do what I could photographically strictly with natural light - I'm overall pleased with what I was able to capture.
Had I had (1) better shoes and (2) someone to call 911 if I fell and cracked my head, I would have made the attempt to walk all the way across to Columbia from Cayce.
Looking West to Cayce
Looking East to Columbia
More pics at Flickr, in the Riverwalk set. Yesterday's adventures start with the B&W kudzu monsters.
Cool thingie on the Bridge
Precarious Footing, but little actual peril except to the white sox
Flotsam or Jetsam?
Sloooooow shot of shallow rapids - decent effect
Looking south towards railroad bridge
Self pic at dusk, best of several attempts.
That's not gonna come out....
Now to go perform rain incantations...
Yes, we SO ordered bracelets after tonight's "The Office" premiere. Thanks to Ms M for suggesting an "Office Party."
"I'm not superstitious; but I am a little stitious."
"A woman shouldn't have to be hit by a car to learn that she has rabies. But that is where we are in America, and that does not sit right with me. And that is why I am hosting a fun run race for the cure for rabies. To raise awareness for the fact that there is a cure rabies... a disease that has been largely eradicated in the U.S., but not very many people know that. "
So, an entreaty from Miss Jean Martins escaped my spam filter.
Miss Jean, a recent college graduate living in Cote d'Ivoire, has certainly seen her share of trouble. She lost her mother when she (Jean) was six years of age, and in 2004 her father, a highly reputable business magnet, died while traveling in France - a death Jean is certain was masterminded by her Uncle.
She writes:
The death of my father actually brought sorrow to my life.
A link I don't want to lose - Fr. Powell from the University of Dallas (as schools go, one of Izzy's favorites), posted on what has worked for them in their campus ministry. Link originally seen, with comments, at Charlotte was Both.
Two items on the list are especially relevant to and aimed at those of us over a certain age, although it assumes a pretty strong liberal bent (and burn-out?) to the oldsters:You didn’t follow in the religious/spiritual footsteps of your parents, why would you expect them to follow in yours? More than anything these younger generations need our patience. Keep your contempt and snarky commentary to yourself. You only injure your already sketchy credibility.
I'll be especially interested in Gashwin's take on this, or comments of anyone who recently spent time in a youth group/young adult group.
You grew up (for the most part) in a sexually repressed culture crowded with rules and punishments. They didn’t. They grew up in the sexual chaos your revolution caused and still celebrates. If they want to figure out what virginity, chastity, and NFP is all about, let them. Again, your snarky predictions of their inevitable failure will only serve to further damage your credibility—it will not deter them. Also, ask yourself: why are you threatened by their desire to put their sexuality in the context of faithful marriage?
I go this from my brother via email. He writes:
You know, I don't normally send out stuff like this. However, I thought it might be fun.The meme originator adds in lots of initial caps:
And Send It Back To Me So I Can See Your Answers. The Theory Is That You Will Learn A Lot Of Little Known Facts About Those You Know. ?So, the meme is that you'll delete my answers and email, write, post your own. It's a bit long, but more thoughtful than some others I've seen.
We're watching the Ken Burns documentary: The War. Looks like it's gonna be at least as good as The Civil War was.
Impressions later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Update Monday evening:
Beautifully compiled, well-written, good choices for subjects and voice-overs, interesting choice to focus on four cities...
Anything after the first 75 minutes I'll have to catch on the re-broadcast or download. Apparently, the warm sun as I watched the kiddos playing the tree at Mom's, plus no nap, plus all the sepia pics equals a serious inducement to sleep.
Marie, Barone, speaking as a pirate/wench, might say:
Do nay be lettin' a suitchest full o' moldy mil kie be yerrr big forrr kie and spoon, and a bottle of rum!
Izzy also directed me to the Grammar Girl collection (Pritcher blogged on this yesterday), hinting that "Someone should blog on this."
While I agree that apostrophe's are way over-u'sed thing's, I fear Grammar Girlz ob'se's'sion with them lead's her a'stray a bit.
Bad Apostrophes:
OK Apostrophes:
(just because someone could become confused is no reason to start forcing people to spell out the entire word "is.")
Worrisome Grammar/Construction:
Let me know which one before you serve me my food. Thank's'.
Having given one of my disposable eddresses to a women's retail & catalogue clothing company (whose stuff I really do like, but do I need daily emails?), I get frequent announcements of great sales.
Whilst scrolling through the site today, I once again notice the imagination required to name all of the clothing. While some name are more descriptive, like "Button Front Dress" (sold out) or "Cropped Pants", most pieces had names like "Delightful Dress" (I own), "Sassy Little Dress" or "Tartan Frock."
My current fave is "Resplendent Jacket." I'm not sure if I'd be worthy to wear it most days.
According to whoever decides such things, the Battle of Kings Mountain, October 7, 1780, was a turning point in the Revolution. It was a decisive battle, where the Tories (loyalists - there were no British soliders here) were defeated by an irregular assemblage of local soldiers, supplemented by "over mountain men" who were angered by British threats on their homes and livelihoods.
Izzy and I went with a group to Kings Mountain on Saturday. I think we did things in a good order to cement them in our memory:
Last Saturday, we arose many, many hours earlier than my usual awakening time, and met some other bikers at a nearby truckstop. We rode from there to another truck stop, where we picked up some more guys, and headed up towards Kings Mountain.
From the time we left the 2nd truck stop, until we got home, we got next to no direction from the ostensible "Ride Leader," who relied on people keeping up.
There was beautiful scenery on then trip, and we had a good time touring the National Military Park's museum and hiking around the battlefield.
What I found most interesting from the day was the Darwinism of some of the guys. "Oh, we lost someone? There were how many people in the group? Hmmmm..." I guess the idea is that if you get separated, you're still out in the middle of nowhere riding on a Saturday, and that can't be a bad thing.
Then there was the 40+ mile stretch going the wrong way, and realizing that the leaders really didn't know where they were going. There was another stretch, back & forth over the NC/SC border, looking for an exit that didn't exit, for a road that didn't cross the interstate, to find a restaurant someone had heard about at a gas stop. Izzy's understatement was great: "It could have been better planned."
In the interests of full disclosure, I should admit that aimless meandering is one of my favorite ways to drive. I just never try it when someone is following me to somewhere.
In the demi-quiet that comes from loud wind noises in the helmet and iffy radio reception, I had lots of time to think and reflect during our 240 mile ride. I was stressed for the lost guys, even though I was never personally at risk for being lost. I finally realized that I wasn't in the driver's seat, that I had no control over where we were going, that people with cell phones can take care of themselves, and that I could work on relaxing. I prefer far more order than I was being offered; and I was reminded of Jesus' words to Peter:
Amen, amen, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to dress yourself and go where you wanted; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.I'm certainly NOT comparing following someone without a map to martyrdom. But for someone who really, really likes to be in control of things, or at least to know everything that is going to happen, it reminded me that sometimes you are called just to sit back and observe the ride.
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