"Son, This Is Going To Hurt Me More Than It Does You."

Image by HA! Designs - Artbyheather via Flickr

According to CNN, a recent study has found that children who were spanked scored 5 percentage points lower on IQ tests, than those who were not!! Give me a break.

What I want to know is how they know for sure that those who scored lower weren't already 5 points dumber in IQ before they were even spanked?

Maybe that's why they were spanked in the first place: because they weren't smart enough to figure out how to lie their way out of it?

Spare me the sobs. "Time outs" didn't work with us and neither did "Go to your room!" We were so poor we had no room to go to!

In my day, some of our parents believed they were entitled to beat the hell out us with belts, ironing cords or switches! And none of us were the worse for it.

Today, they would have been arrested for child abuse.

But now that I think about it, I have always wondered why I have such a low IQ.... hmmmmmmm.

Keeping America Safe: Happiness Is A Warm Gun

Democrats, Run for your lives!!!

Image via Wikipedia

Just read where the sale of ammuntion has skyrocketed this year, from 7 billion rounds last year to 9 billion bullets this year.

One dealer was cited as saying spikes in ammunition sales is not unusual during times when Democrats are in power, but that this is amazing.

America is literally "biting the bullet." Bullets for breakfast lunch, and dinner.

Does anyone remember the Beatles' song: Happiness is a Warm Gun"? That made me feel warm all over, like a nocturnal emmision of sorts.

"When I feel you, in my arms I know nobody can do me no harm"
(Beatles)

Maybe I'll become a Republican.

Late Summer Night's Dream: A Cricket Symphony

Image by azrainman via Flickr

Image by L-T-L via Flickr

I realized this summer just how many crickets we have in our backyard. As a child, through open screen doors and windows, it just wasn't summer unless the multitude of crickets was chirping in the darkness.

What a lovely chorus. One lives inside a potted plant sitting on a step of the deck, leading to our backyard.

He madly serenades his Senorita until he hears us approach, then abruptly cuts short the sonata in mid phrase! He will not begin again until he is absolutely certain it is safe.

We will miss our musical friends now that Fall approaches. I wonder where they spend the Winter?

Summer nights and crickets belong together, a perfect marriage, like the stars and the black abyss of night.

God couldn't have planned it better.

Excuse me, while I sing my own Senorita, a love song on my guitar.

Jiminy Cricket, man.

Centesimal Entry: 100 and Going Strong

Image by TheAlieness GiselaGiardino²³ via Flickr

This is my 100th entry, wow a mercurial feat for me! I had dreamed of spending time writing after my retirement but I never dreamed so much of it would take this form.

I always pictured it as real writing, like for a book or something, you know.

I admit there is some fat and grease here and there, but you must admit, there are also some morsels of carne asada, if you invest so time to taste, that I am hoping someone out there has digested.

But that's the odd part. Why do I continue? Why bother? What difference does it make? Is it vanity? Insanity? Who is it that stumbles by my posts? Old? Young? Male? Female? Cyber surfers looking for a wave or a fix?

The other day I actually received a comment from a young man in Taiwan who comlimented my blog. Whoa, a long way from Stockton, I believe.

The old "I write for myself" mantra isn't really working. I need some real food. I am starving.

I see other blogs with dozens of comments and responses, sometimes on inane entries worse than mine! But at least I can always count on my old buddy Dad #167, who celebrated his 100th entry not long ago, to add a thoughtful snippet to most of my entries. Thanks dad.

So, for you virtual readers in the great cyber void out there, feel free to felicitate me on this 100th entry if you are so inclined. If not, I shall assume you were just "too busy."

(P.S. Don't try to copy the 100 dollar bill above and print a few hundred for yourself to spend or you might be arrested. The FBI regualarly reads these Blogs I heard). I have always offered sound advice on my blog, but with a grain of salt and a little pepper. (chile pepper).

Ancient Maya Prophecy: Doomsday December 21, 2012?

Image via Wikipedia

Watched an engaging documentary last nite on the History Channel concerning the Maya fascination with time and how they possessed precise calendars far before those of any other culture anywhere on earth (including Europe) and more accurate.

Apparently, theirs was a fascination with noting that time moved in small, medium, and giant cycles in keeping with the movements of the sun and planets, with political and social events repeating themselves.

The program however, centered around a chunk of time that began in 1993 and ends on December 21, 2012, marking the winter solstice, and when our sun every 26,000 years aligns itself with the center of our Milky Way.

Whether the date will be catastrophic or spiritually tranformative seems to be a matter of interpretation, but many believe life as we know it will come to an end.

Not much time remains though to see which is true and we can still squeeze in a couple more Martini's, Margaritas and enchiladas de chile verde. Maybe send me my Christmas present early that year?

Seriously, we ought to pay attention just in case. Maybe find ourself a good vantage point that day, and check out the heavens, and prepare to check out, too.

Say, isn't this the projected date that our Social Security runs outa' money??! E-gads!!!

Arlo Guthrie Revisited

Cover of Alice's Restaurant

Just finished listening to Arlo Guthrie's (Woody Guthrie's son) "Alice's Restaurant" and wow what a takeback the 60's, from a hodgepodge playist of favorties I've compiled.

It is a masterpiece protest song against the Viet Nam War, and popped up unexpectedly.

If you can, track it down and give it a listen and get ready to crack up at vintage sarcasm, satire and absurdity of an insane time period in America's history.

On Building a Good Sponge Head

Image via Wikipedia

I sent my kid home from school yesterday cuz I didn't want him hearin' no Socialistic speech from President Obama.

Sometimes, I have him removed from the classroom when they're studying that science stuff or history. We gotta protect our young minds.

I also, didn't want him spoutin' off no pledge of allegiance stuff to no specific country or praying to no special God, or stuff.

He came home and watched Sponge Bob. I want him to grow up to be a good little sponge head, like the rest of us good Americans.

Labor Day: Love Made Visible

Just occurred to me that all I love has been a product of my labor, a 43 year marriage, raising two hard-headed sons, teaching my students for 33 years, learning my art, learning to play the guitar and sing, learning to write.

In Kahil Gibran's The Prophet, he writes "Work is love made visible. But if you cannot work without distaste, it would be better to sit at the temple gates and take alms from those who work with love."

Would that we all loved our labors.