THIS IS ME
People very often ask me what I write,and just as often, it seems,they append their own idea: “a diary?” I suppose it actually started off being that – a daily diary - noting if it was raining or if the sun was shining – that sort of important data. It quickly became a journal, however, dealing with many things and with commentary of my life as I lived it then.

I remember writing about each and every movie we saw, and there were hundreds of them because that was our main spare-time activity. To see a movie, plus some commercials on the screen the plus a comedy, a news reel, a short subject feature, the featured movie itself, and perhaps a chapter in the then running serial western - all for the sum of of twenty-five cents. Where else could we have found such a value? Of course,it must be remembered that twenty-five cents was what we got for cutting and raking a lawn, and what some grown men got to weeding corn all day on a farm. I wrote about other subjects, as well, including the news of the day sense of being a writer all my life.

I can't say when when that occurred, but somewhere in my early teens I knew that was what I wanted to do and I had very little idea about how to go about doing it. I discovered “Writer's Digest” in Ohio, “The Writer”, from Boston and one called “Author & Journalist”, which was, I think, published in Denver for a short time. Writer's Digest was one which dealt more with the commercial side or writing, while The Writer tended toward the literary side. There were others from time to time, but they,as rule did not last long and proved to be see-your-name-in-print v vanity things. I had already seen my name in print and some small payments had come my way, so I leaned rather heavily toward the Digest and their fine Annual edition -the Yearbook – which listed the nation' top paying markets ...through the mediums ...the smalls and right down to the nothings. I think I tried most of them at one time or another.

Ego plays an important role in the making of a writer. I am appalled when I look back and find some of the pitiful material I channeled to some magazines and newspapers,but that is the way one grows and gradually the awareness of your true worth become evident – often as somewhat of a shock, too. Writers,like actors, have to maintain a feeling which tells them how good they are at regular intervals, otherwise they slip and fall backward into ordinary living ...and poor, self- centered writing.

I've never regretted my choice. It took some odd turns and I ended up with the major portion of my writing being done in the form of commercial advertising copy. However, along with that, there were writing adventures in PR work, articles, sales presentations, incentive trip scripts, a musical comedy, some songs, columns and some poetry. All of this background has given me some good feelings now in my “sunset” days ...as they call them.

“Sunset? Far from it! Stand back! I'm just getting started!

A.L.M. Sept.29,2002 [c549wds]

 
ONE DOLLAR

The lowly “dollar” stores are doing very well these days,I find.

Some are regional in nature, but you probably have three or four in your area which are nation-wide in their operations.

They usually have the word “dollar” in their name and this strikes me as being an echo from the “Five-and-Ten-Cents Stores” of days long-gone. The insinuation is that all items are priced at one dollar each,but that,you find,is not exactly the case -although many items are so tagged.

I find,in talking with housewives and homemakers, that more of them than ever before are shopping at these “economy” locations. Even while the “Big Box” stores out in the Mall on the edge of town are suffering recession doldrums , several of them seriously, the small dollar stores are prospering.

Some shoppers are going to the smaller store for physical reasons. They are no longer willing to go shopping “Safari Style”with long treks to and from the far reaches of a parking lot to the far end of the Mall. They find it much better to park in front of th smaller store and,often,just a few steps from the entrance.

With careful attention to purchasing the smaller stores can and do compete with the Big Box retailers because they operate in lower rent districts and have less overhead expense.

As a member of Congress, Rep. Burr Harrison, once said years ago:“We“ he said, speaking of Americans in general,”have what might be called an almost criminal devotion to bigness! If it's big,it's good!” The small:”dollar” stores are attesting to the wisdom of that statement when they actively compete with the large discount stores which seem to be dominating the markets.

We hear the terms “bankruptcy” and Chapter Eleven” in relation to the affairs of some Big Box retailers, but the smaller stores go right on being profitable in their small way.


The smaller stores e, it seems, meeting a need expressed by shoppers as they begin to pick and choose ...looking for, and finding, real bargains, at their local “dollar” stores. There are some dis-advantages,as well. Just because you found large boxes of your favorite dry cereal at your dollar store last week as a good price, does not mean you can get the same item there a week from now. Stocks are small and they vary. This is a result of the careful purchasing which must be be done if they are to compete and prosper. Items must move in and out quickly.

A.L.M. September 30, 2002 [c423ds]

 
.
IGLOO ASSISTANCE

AVAILABLE : Experienced Igloo builder. Cool service guaranteed.

Maybe you have noticed that the weather people are predicting unusually heavy amounts of snow, rather rain this winter in the Eastern section of the nation as a result of El Nino’s presence once more. Just in case you need some help in constructing any igloos you may have in mind around the place, I stand ready to help.

The last igloo I remember building with the real stuff was constructed during the winter of ‘28, I think, and it was a doozie with lots of perfect snow available over an extended period. We may have had El Nino
pushing the “Snow” buttons, then, too, but we didn’t know it at the time.

Even the mountains of southwestern Virgjnia were not igloo country in those days, so building such a structure was a real adventure for boys our ages and a novelty for the community we found. It was part of our natural way, in those times, of making our own “toys”and having without spending money.

We rolled large balls of wet snow down the long hill near the area in which we intended to build. We then sliced those large, round snow balls into sections and placed them in a circle which was to be our igloo wall. In previous attempts at smaller versions, we had found we usually had a roof problem, so we fudged a little, which is a better-sounding term than “cheating,” by getting several long, wide boards to put across the walls to hold the ceiling in place. We did not get the icy content blocks needed to keystone such an arched roof properly, so we “re-arranged “ things a bit.

We piled snow on top of the board “lid” and that very night it snowed again and presented the world with a neatly rounded mound the next morning with no sign of any protruding woodwork at all.

We had a crawl-in door tunnel, bent slightly toward the East to allow the morning sun to ooze in a bit, and to forbid passage to the crusty north wind. Inside, we had cardboard on the trampled snow floor having worked the wall building from the inside area with that purpose in mind. We had blankets over the cardboard and we cut a small vent in the back wall area under which, half way down the wall , to vent black smoke, we mounted a fat, red, wax candle for light and heat. It is amazing how comfortable an ice house can be with several candles going, plus body heat - and plenty of warm, winter clothing


The room had about five feet or so of standing-up room in the center, and it tapered upward at the sides all around, of course.

We lived on the main street of our town, so automobile and wagon traffic slowed down to look at our “igloo” as did the town’s one and only street car (mysteriously labeled “No.11”) and we could see people
pointing at our ice house and when they waved to us we waved back as proud owners of the town’s only igloo!

After a few warmer nights and some sunny days, the cheat boards began to show and we tore the roof off and magically transformed the walls into a fort defending the area from all encrochments by snowball
wielding enemy forces. Records show that we would have held the fort, too, had not both sides run out of ammunition.

A.L.M. September 28, 2002 [c590wds]

 

GHETTOES TODAY?

It can be said that today we no longer have ghettoes in our cities, at least
not in the formal, old-fashioned, historical sense.

No. Perhaps not, but we still hold fast to, foster and even nurture some of the ideas
which cause singular deprivations for the people who happen to live in a specific area;
profess a certain faith other than ours; are of a different color, and who are often
economically deprived largely because of their location, race , religion or educational
background.

Many such districts come about through simple neglect. If a section of the city
grows old and new suburbs develop the overly-used area starts of disintegrate rapidly,
property is not maintained and, eventually, all the stores and other business firms have
gone elsewhere.

Concerned persons can, in such cases, pretend for a time that things have not
really changed all that much and, for a few years they can dream of a future when the
big business firms will return. But, it doesn’t take them too long for them to realize that
such is not going to be the case. Even if they undertake “renewal programs” and do some
painting and gutter-fixing work they are returned rapidly to a the ruins of a culture which
has gone elsewhere. They find themselves unable to earn a decent living for themselves
and their families. Welfare-ism becomes a way for life and city, county, state, sectional,
federal aid gradually take over and it moves in as an oppressive reality - even with some
efforts by churches and civic-minded groups which come to see it as a religious or social
obligation, but they never seems to undertake such projects in sufficient numbers and
with long-term associations in mind from the start.

Take a moment in which to stand back and look at it.

How does it differ, really, from the ghettos, tenements, slums and of old save,
perhaps, in the element of overt military control and something akin to it in another
authority? There is no law, other than the rule of poverty, which says the people must
remain there. They can come and go as they like but they are not invited to stay
wherever they may choose to go. The barrio resident of the deep south becomes a
resident of the equivalent section of our larger cities up north. Or, it works the other way
around, as well. It is difficult to “escape.”

Obviously, the ghettoes or these areas, whatever we may call them, “slums” or
some fancy, old-time historical name, still need attention from the more affluent side of
town. Many cities use this historical-connective thread in an attempt to put the blame
for, at least a part of the dire conditions, on some by gone era...another time which, in
some devious manner, “caused” the present dire conditions. There seems to be
something on which they can blame part of it, at least... the dual standards, of Victorian
times, slavery, imigration, almost anything controversial in some by-gone era.

We can no longer depend on a beneficent Federal authority to do what they have
so clearly demonstrated they cannot do. Hugh, multi-floored buildings constructed years
ago as federal housing projects and deemed to be perfect cure for economic ailments of
the cities, exited many proponents. The problems they were built to solve have, actually
intensified and are yet to be solved. Those tall , red-brick structures stand now, many with
burned out units, as noisome shells in which humans live - “exist”, you might say - in
disgraceful conditions and think of themselves only as lost... complete failures. You can
walk through the smelly corridors of any such urban housing project and feel the
desolation pressing in on you from all sides.

Yes, the ghettoes, tenements, slums - are still with us in a slightly modified state, but
very real and still a prominent social problem with which we must come to terms ... and
soon.
A.L.M. September 26, 2002 [c668wds]

 
BEAUTY AND THE LEAST

Each of us, I am convinced, has within us an innate love of beauty.

We may be totally unaware of the fact that it is present, but it is still there. We, as individuals, may even deny that it exists within us at all or strive to remove it as a mark of “sissification.” Yet, there it remains -
always.

It remains unused until the words or works of someone, an admirer or fellow-dweller in a drab world, triggers the flow.

It may come in that form of art concerning painters - from a person with brushes, canvas and oil or watercolors at hand, or, it could just as easily, come from someone creating music, writing stories, plays or poetry,
or building bridges, houses or office buildings and factories. It could come to you from the photographic genre or from sculpting.

Those other persons, as a rule, have their own idea of what constitutes beauty demanding clarity from their own internal sources of true beauty, and hey are scheduled to respond. They judge and evaluate their
concept of beauty, and watching them and seeing their works, we become aware that we, too, have, within us, certain standards of what we believe art must be - in whatever outward form it might take.

I know people who deny ever having had artistic abilities or knowledge of any kind, but - to me, at least, it seems to be one of the basic qualities of fine living. It comes to us early, by way of parents or grandparents
who lead a life of artistic appreciation even though they, themselves have never came to realize how much it had influence their lives. Granddaddy looked out over a green expanse of a field of growing corn and marveled at the
miracle of it all - planted by his hand - saw the symmetry, the rich color, semsed the smell and the feel of it maturing as a living thing - a tribute to his deft handling of the tiny seed from which it sprang and which he nurtured to fullness
in form and purpose. Grandma in her baking and cooking was more of an artist than she ever thought herself to be, as well as in the exercise of loving care she gave her children and her children’s children.

A basis need for perfection is deep with us all as an enduring quality of life. Once planted it grows well in human beings. It is a latent sense of artistry. It makes few demands upon us. The very least one can do is to
approach life with an open heart and mind and some day, somewhere ,there will be a person - a man, woman, child, or aged friend who will see it in you and ignite it by example or instruction. The least we can do is to seek, rather
than simply wait for such a person to influence our lives in this manner.

This is yet another area of living today which progresses “in mysterious ways”, so there is no definite way to determine at what point you may be led to become what you really are. It could come from family, from
friends, or, quite often it comes from a new romantic interest recently formed.

Beauty is there - within us. The least we can do is to be available when the moment arrives and not be so overly occupied with pressing affairs of the world that we miss the contact.

Many are waiting...others....

Waiting for beauty to reveal itself in their lives, and you may well be the needed catalyst.


A.L.M. September 24, 2002 [c608wds]

 
EXECUTIVE CONDUCT

What went wrong? And, when?

That seems to be about as far as initial questioning goes when it comes to talk about the gross misconduct of some business leaders. Often, I get the feeliing that some persons are deciding - ahead of discussion or
any attempt at fact-finding - that it all happened long ago and has, in fact, been that way all along.

These self-appointed critics seem to have no idea of what, if anything ... “went wrong.”

Such criticism is so unfair to all the decent, upstanding executives who have meant so much to our national well-being for so many years. This sort of broad brush accusation strikes me as a kindred one also going
the rounds at this moment - branding all preists as pedophiles just because a relatively few of them have fallen into such a state of depravity.

In truth, there can be little doubt but that the church, industry ,commerce as well as some other fields of human endeavor, have been, and are, rather lax in looking after the moral nature of their groups. Has that
not been made evident in recent years when you consider how the subject of “ morality” has repeatedly become an issue in our political campaigns at all levels? We have been living in an era in which, for some time, it would seem,
moral values have been vilified and any attempts at sublimation have been made deserving of ridicule and a basis for laughter and scorn.

Much of this, perhaps, is rooted in the manner in which our eduational system “raises”or “trains” either young men or women to become executives. Far too often the system is structured on the concept that “it is
not what you know, but who you know, that is important.”

Academic achievment is, from early years allowed to be secondary to social connections and on getting in with the “right” crowd, and upon one’s ability to pave fine avenues toward the goals of success by
belonging to the proper Greek-lettered groups. Some executives simply inherit their leadership roles. It seems to be assumed that since Father was a fine executive, Junior will be a good one as well, regardess of what training he may
or may not have to his credit. In recent decades, I have seen yet another group take over executive suites, usually for a short period of time of time and seldom to the advantage of the company being “executed” - those who have
been “successuful” in some other - often in totally unrelated fields ... sports, acting, political office holders, - name your own favorite, but the field has been pretty well worked over by this time.

Seldom do we see the dedicated, intent, mission-minded leader of men and women in the executive seats these days. Some are there simply because they started the business and it has never occurred to them
that someone else with better insight and less personal involvement might make a better go of it.

Our present education system, wonderful though it may be in so many ways, causes every student to think he or she will grow up to have a “position” rather than a “job”, be a “boss” rather than be “bossed”.
Everyone is assured of becoming an “execuitve” but none are prepared to be “workers”. Each simply “falls into” that which they become.

We can expect a few misfits along the line, both near the bottom and at the top, and the greatest of these misfits will be at the top where more is expected of them.

A.L.M. September, 28, 2002 [c 605wds]

 
BACKGROUND BUILDERS

In April of this year I came across an item from the Manchester “Guardian”
which was dated January 2, 2002. It was complied by Derek Brown, and his terse outline
of events in the mid-east have been a great deal of help to me in understanding some of
events taking place in the Holy Land.

The outline, or “time-line”, it may better be called, is something for which I have
been searching a long time. I felt I needed a straight-forward, simple “1-2-3” fashioned
survey concerning the actions of each side - Israeli and Palestinian.

It started earlier than I would have thought it might, with and trend which began
in 1881. I am still looking for such an outline concerning Palestinian history for essentially the
time period. I would, for instance, like to know precisely when, and under what
circumstances, Yasher Arafat came to power. He seems to have been around longer
than most people realize.

So it’s back to 1881 for us, if we wish to known more about events of today in the
Holy Land.

That date marks the beginning of what is called “the great Allya” or the mass
immigration of Jews from all over the world back to the Holy Land. The Jewish population
in the area at that time was very small and they were outnumbered by the Palestinians
deployed all over the larger area. There have been rather sudden immigration spurts
among the Jews intent on getting back to the homeland from time-to-time, but the “the
Allya” seems be the first observable change in that regard.

I think we, sometimes, think today that it all started with the formation of the Zionist
groups, but it is something which had been going on for many decades before that
back-to-the-homeland group came about. Many of the Jews “returned” came back as
a result of opposition and persecution in Russia and Romania, for instance. “Returned”
and “came” or “went back” seem to be incorrect terms when speaking of individuals
who had never actually been there before.

The “great Allya” was, it could be said, the first somewhat “organized” movement
noted. The Jews who returned in that initial movement were called “olim” which, literally
means “ascenders”. Along with those from Russia and Romania escaping pogroms of the
worst type, there were also good many Jews who are said to have migrated from Yemen,
but the reason for their departure is not made clear. Could that have been an Arabic
persecution which caused the Jews of Yeman to go “home?” The present situation is an
Arabic campaign against the Jews of Israel. We may learn something of value if we
examine the reasons for the Jews departure from Yemen in the 1800’s. Was it a voluntary
thing, or a forced movement? Now, in September of 2002, I’m still looking for the reason
the Jews left Yemen in such large numbers. “They just did” is not sufficient reason, in my
way of thinking. I would like to know the real cause of their departure from Yemen’s sandy
shores.

In 1881 the Jewish population in what is now known as the Holy Land seems to
have been about twenty-four thousand. That struck me as being very low, but in the next
twenty years there were more than forty-thousand Jewish immigrants. These figures, it
seems, are from records kept by the Ottoman Turks who possessed the area in three
subdivisions. Just how accurate they are may be questioned, of course. We haven’t
learned yet to take our own census without missing a few million people, so how can we
expect exact figures from the occupying Turks so long ago? Palestine was, at that time,
thought of as a part of Syria and it was not an entity unto itself.

So, as a starting point, let’s all hit the books and sites for information on “the great
Allya” and events from 1881. Let’s look this situation over together. We’ve gotta start
somewhere. Maybe we can make it “make sense”.

A.L.M. September 24, 2002 [c678wds]

 

I WAS A KID, TOO.

To back up such a statement I have before me the original handwritten copy of a letter I wrote to my Grandmother in Salem, Virginia where she and my uncle had moved from South Norfolk, Va. I was nine years
old. After establishing my location in “Radford, Va” and the date: “June 18, 1925” , I greeted her and launched into a single ,two-page paragraph.

“Dear Gammy, “I wrote.

“We are all getting along all right and I hope you are to. We had a bad storm yesterday and Jr. said it hailed Mama and I were asleep all during the storm. It was a very bad storm at Christriansburg. It is still windy
in Radford today and I am feeling better. The doctor said I can sit up half an hour and last night I sat at the foot end of the bed and watched the K.K.K.’s go by because they were having a speech up at the band stand and then
they burned a cross . The doctor is making me take codliveroil because I am so weak. Sister can play with my little toy now. Jr. learned her how to play it and she runs the hammer across the iron pieces and then looks at you and
laughs. Mama gave me some cream of wheat and she gave sister a taste and she cryed until mamma gave her some more and sister had to take a bath because she was cream of wheat from head to toe. Please take a picture of
your house and send it here so I can I can see what the house looks like and how do you like Salem, Va? I hope you like it maybe we’ll be down in a week or 2 how does Dolly like the neaborhood is there many dogs up there if there is
there will be some dog fighting some time so keep Dolly in the yard I’m on the bed writing this letter now which is why the lions are so crookedy, I am trying to get them straight but I cannot.
I hope to come to see you soon. Write to me soon.
rotten pudding
Your Grandson
Andrew-L McC.”

My mother wrote four lines at the bottom of the page saying my brother would write next time. She mentioned I was better but don’t know from what. We went by “train time” in Radford in those days so she detailed which train
would take the letter to her mother who was every bit of fifty miles away from us.
Being a kid builds memories and I remember the Klu Klux Klan marching to their meetings and in every parade the town had for whatever occasion. They marched in single file on each side of the street... silently
with just the scrape of their shoes and the swish of their sheets and spooky hat-masks. My brother and I had it all figured out. We could tell who belonged to the klan at the carnival grounds after the parade having memorized their
shoes, socks and the cuffs on some trousers - narrow or wide, or sloppy-saggy , neat or none at all on others.

In a small town you also noticed who was obviously missing in the passing parade units.

Memories..and all that was seventy-seven years ago! Only Grandmothers save such letters. It proves one more thing, too... my handwriting was easier to read then than it is now!

A.L.M. September 21, 2002 [c587wds]

 

SHIFTS IN POLITICAL SCENERY

Seldom do we see our leaders for exactly what they are.

We are bound to have certain pre-arranged views which tell us what qualities we admire in those we accept as proper choices in their particular responsibilities.

We like to think we “elected” some of them to the positions they hold. The ones of whom we voice approval are usually those we feel we have “influenced” in some small way by our votes in their favor.

That’s a comforting thing to hold close but somewhat pateralistic overtone in that warns we might come to think of public servant as our personal lackeys. In truth, they have broader responsibilities than just our
small, individualistic view.

Just because I voted for a candidate - man or women -does not mean he or she is supposed to do my precise bidding. I would hope they would set forth ideas with which I can readily align myself, in agreement for
the most part, but I also think they should have some free will of their own, and I am never disappointed or upset when they go a bit far out and do something with which I am not in full agreement. Obviously, others are interested in
aspects quite different from my own, and for good reasons, in many cases, and our representative himself may be more concerned about special points than we, and he should react logically to such ideas well as ours. He is not bound
to katow to our every whim. We do not own the people we elect. We are not puppet manipulators.

If your leadership does something which is not in keeping with your feeling as to what is best for the nation, stand up and, if you wish, and speak up. Let your voice be heard in some way; your view expressed. Do so
if you are concerned about keeping the record clear. Rest assured there will be another such time in the future. Most problems are mended or patched rather than being solved. “Fixed” does not mean “permanently repaired.”

V.P. Alben Barkley, many years ago, was said to have been talking with a backwoods voter who was seeking help for himself and his family. Barkley listened patiently and then read off a long list of things he had
done for that family. The man listened to the recitation and nodded assent as to the truth of each item so stated. After Barkley was finished the man asked: “Yes, sir - all that’s true - but what have you done for us... lately?

Those who expect politicians to be constantly passing out benefits are barking at the wrong stump speaker. You are not quite as important as your once may have been because demographics change swiftly
these days, and so do the views of political minds. Think back a few years to what real clout “farm bloc” and ”union labor” votes used the carry.

Edgar Allen Poe, as a cartoonist, might have, at this point, pictured his pol-raven issuing forth a ballooned quote saying: “Nevermore!”

A.L.M. September 22, 2002 [c518wds]

 

FLORIDA FLAP

The State of Florida recently had a re-run of Election Day mishaps.

For some reason the problem did not come as a surprise to most people when the Democratic Primary voters met with all sort of difficulties in casting their votes. Recounts were demanded and some such
secondary counts were made with little change in the end results.

After two years and millions of dollars spent on new “Touch” voting machines voting and even then irregularities turned up in many areas. Some had to do with disagreements on voting hours and there were
others, but the most interesting one, to me, was the fact that much of the troubles has been reported as being the direct result of the inability of election officials at the polls to read and comprehend enough English to undertand
the printed instructions which came with every touch voting machine concerning its proper use and maintenance.

This opens at least two cans of potential “worms”.

How many newcomers to our shores were hired to be poll watchers and such? Was this hiring done because someone needed to be politicallfy correct for that area so as to assure a favorable Spanish vote? That’s
one area in which investigations could be made and a suggestion or two set forth that would require such job holders for the day to, at least, be able to read basic English, or urge that some training instructions be held in advance of
the election day concerning the proper care and feeding of newborn voting machine. And, by the way, are such “employees” required to be citizens?

I can readily understand that special attention must be given to balance at this time in our history. Studies show that in 1999 fourteen percent of Americans over five years of age spoke a labguage other than
English in their homes. That was an eleven per cent increases over figures for 1980. Now, in 2002 ,the total has grown even higher, I’m sure and it has become more important than ever that an attempt be made to fit polls personnel
hiring more in line with averages available. Bi-lingual help should be sought, as well to help solve recurrent problems.

Another can of potential “worms” has nothing to do specifically within Florida voting machines hassle but this whole thing is almost sure to bring some “Let’s make English our official language!” devotees out of the woodwork. It
has been a while since Congress undergone a drive to make English official for the nation.

Lawmakers in D.C. who have such a thing in mind should remember that just about all of us stem from people who did not speak English - certainly as we know it today.

There is s no need to legislate what our of choice of language must be. The English language is, on it’s own, making strong inroads on all other tongues around the world. English is now predominate in the aviation
industry and on the Internet worldwide. English is fast becoming the language of trade, commerce, industry and business of all types. It is now the language of more than one half of the world’s population. China is now the largest
English speaking nation on Earth. About the only place you see English losing out, is in the lyrics, so-called, of most rock and music of our day.

Ireland tried this national language kick years ago when it was renamed Eire and Gaelic was made the official speech. Do you, or anyone you know, say: “Please pass the Gaelic potatoes, stew or whiskey?” It is
about as useless as two-dollar bills or coins in the United States - authorized by Congress.

A.L.M. September 21, 2002 [c618wds]

 

BIG ‘‘A”

By this time, most of us are aware that Yasher Arafat-head of the P.L.O. is once again, seated rather tensely at his big desk in the previously pounded compound at Ramallah, on the West Bank, with Israeli tanks
leveling their guns at his office window menancingly for the second time.

No word this time that he will be without electricity as he was the last this same “set” was used. He struggled though TV interviews “by candlelight” at that time which is not at all easy to do. You may remember
him hunkered down grimly behind his desk with a giant hand-and-a half gun on the desktop at the ready and, one would assume it to have been fully loaded and ready for whatever. With his relatively small hand pictured beside
that hugh gun, it appeared to be even heavier than it might have been. I envisioned Afafat firing the piece and I pictured the normal kick-back of the monster weapon knocking his burnoose loose.

Renewel of suicide attacks in Israel this past week caused the re-entry of the I-tanks at Ramallah and Arafat ought to be reading the “righting” they may do upon his walls at any moment.

It has been evident, I think, that Y. Arafat, Esq. has not had the full gamut of control, as was claimed, over all elements of his own government for some time. From the Aabic viewpoint, he has served well, I think,
many must admit, certainly as interim leader on the way to more competent leadership. He has been the Clown Prince of much of the Arabic world long enough, however. If at all, he has not, in recent years, had control over those
individuals prone to suicide bombing attacks. I wonder, at times, if they have any true control in the government or in the ragged edges thereof.

Arafat has had many narrow escapes over a score or more of years. It seems to me that I remember, just a short time ago, when he was being ferried out of his besigned and defeated location in Lebanon, him half-standing on
a load of something in the bed of a small pick up truck ...on a safe-passage “parade” ride to freedom and all the while waving victoriously every mile of the way seeming to anyone, anywhere especially to those of us watching TV at
home thousands of miles away.

The man has been a prime self-promotion expert in so many ways. I have talked with people who have met him and liked him, in spite of previous feelings about the nature of his place in world history. He has
charmed the leaders of many nations from time-to-time and his immense popularity with the common people is not to be underestimated as we begin to think of him as being in the Past Tense.

Once again Arafat has been offered Safe Passage. This time it is for a one-way ticket out of Israel (I assume the recent offer is still valid) with all doors, gates and loopholes closed against his return at any time.

Take it, Yasher. Go. Go, now.

It is past time for you to join your or wife and child in Paris.

Get out while you still have a chance of survival, and let the rest of the world worry about who will take your place. Don’t push your luck too far.

You are leaving a pair of gunboat-size sandals behind you, too.
Knowing that should make you fell a bit smug and laughing up your roomy sleeve.

So long, Large “A.”

A.L.M. September 19, 2002 [c602wds]

 

HERE WE GO AGAIN.

Iraq has decided to allow United Nations arms inspectors to return to their country to try to locate any prohibited weaponry development.

“Decided” may not be the exact word to use. They have stalled on this point long enough. Four years gives them sufficient time to either hide any such work being done; to export evidence of such a project or to
to rig up something to make inspectors believe their scrutiny has caused a fundamental change in some way if such an activity has been underway. I think Saddam Hussein may have been “convinced” rather than that he simply
decided of his own will, that it was time to back off a bit to let inspectors nose around once more. President George W. Bush for one, seems to have been pretty well fed up the stay on inspection and was get urgently huffy about it,
leaning toward the point of unilateral forays to do something about it rather than waiting for UN action. The actual strand of fiber which fractured the camel’s back was, I think.
when Saudi Arabia, just this week, agreed to allow U. S. planes to operate from bases within their borders and, with toothy smiles in place, seemed to be urging other Arabic nations to follow through with other element of assistance
such as became available in the “coalition” of the Gulf War era.

“Uh,oh!” Sad-Hu must have whistled over his morning coffee at one of his twenty- seven palatial residences (I think, it was 27 at last count) and commented to cronies present that it was time to concede a small point to keep
fellow Arabian associates lulled into acceptance of his over all wishes.

His “offer” seems generous enough, too.

“Without restrictions” he has plainly said, which is far different from the way it has been in the past. What could be more fair, open and honest, some are saying.

One would imagine Iraqi officialdom and even the public, if they knew of such developments, were beginning to get a bit edgy with George W. Bush talking in such stern terms which could be readily understood
and which could lead trouble...real trouble. Their mentor, of course, cannot allow himself to retreat but he stands ready, even eager, at times, to engage in strategic rearrangment of position.

So, he steps aside and allows inspectors to enter through the screen door. He may actually hold the main door ajar for their entrance and he will refrain from cautioning them about stepping too heavily on the royal
rugs or to avoid singing high notes in the area where the family crystal is on display...all such common rules covering such visits

Don’t expect Sad-Hu., or any of the Iraqi officials, to invite the inspectors in for lunch. This is more like opening the front door to allow the man in to read the gas meter in the basement and then to get the hell out,
rather than a social visit.

For the moment - all is unusually quiet on the I-Q front and it will take about a month to get an inspection team on site, I would guess. In the meantime, just back from the ranch with his linguistic lariet swinging,
President George W. Bush shows little signs of toning down the rhetoric which has awakened some key Arabic listeners and even caused a few UN minds to pay attention, as well.

Then will be lots of talk..talk...talk... from all sides.

Rappy days are here again!

A.L.M. September 18, 2002 [c592wds]

 
RECALL

Some people I know seem to have the uncanny ability to remember dates of importance and some of little consequence whatever. It makes no matter if it happened last week or a decade or more ago. They
have it ready and waiting right there on the tip of their notebook mind.

I often feel silly when they do this in my presence. I have had trouble spelling my own second name, so memory is not among my fortes if I have any.

Other do ,too. They feel touchy when others remember what they cannot, I find.

I was talking with a couple the other evening (I have forgotten what night it was) and the husband said they had run into a friend of theirs a day or so ago who greeted them with the question: “Well, I guess, you
two are getting all excited this week, right?” He seemed to know what they should be celebrating. He must have seen a blank look on their faces because he offered an explanation at once.”Your twenty-seventh wedding
anniversary is coming up Saturday!” He then listed several other events which took place at about the same time, as if to prove his declaration. He finished with “Y’know, Mac, you don’t look fifty-one years old at all!” and cited the
exact date of birth. The couple said they were tempted to ask what time of day or night the natal event took place
but refrained from doing so b ecause they though he might have an answer.

There are others, too, who are more useful and less aggressive with their specific knowledge. I knew one young man who worked as a clerk in a store where everyone had a membership card which allowed us to
shop there. Every account -thousands of them - had a six-digit membership number. If such a number was mentioned it was “recorded” it in some magical manner. You never had to remember it, or look it up, ever again. He didn’t
even ask for your number. He knew thousands of such numbers and used them as needed. He would have been a real gem if he had worked in the parts department of a large industrial plant.


Have you ever encountered such a date-doter as that?

The ability does seem to run in families, however loosely.

My father- in-law, Marcus Arndt, could always come up with important family dates - birthdays, anniversaries,and special events within the family. He maintained a neat little, black notebook, however, in which
such information was detailed. His recall of items written in that small book was truly remarkable! Our grandson, Chris Shirkey is a walking telephone book. That tendency was aided and abetted by our readiness to “ask Chris” instead
of consulting our tri-city phone books for numbers we needed.

More power to ‘em, - all these people who remember things so well. May they stay close to me. But, as for the reasons I had in mind urging them to do so....I forget.

A.L..M. September 17, 2002 [c509wds]

 

IS IT TRUE?

Rumor always spreads rapidly, it seems. Truth has a bit more trouble in doing so, largely perhaps because we have to make doubly sure - these days - that what is being called “truth” is, indeed, what it claims to be.

Too many of us seem to think that because we have heard it on radio, seen it on TV, or in print, we can trust it to be accurate. Many people seem to hold that to be a sacred system and freely quote what they
have heard or seen as fact. If a well-known TV talking head says something is “Truth”, then, so be it - whatever he or she said - must be accepted as being authentic without question . It is also amazing how many people accept the
judgment of a vague group of unidentified persons called “they”. Think how often you have hear that credit given as a prelude to the stating of a fact which needs some strengthening. “They say...”; places the responsibility for
judging something to be true upon a group of people who must be, or must have been, experts on the particular subject being discussed. Who “they” are has never been established. Others try to narrow it down a bit by saying:
“Doctors tell us.....”or “leading health studies show that....”scientists tell us..” Worse yet ,perhaps: “Educators tell us....” and you can go right on down the list of occupational groups to quote authority which seems to authenticate the
”fact” about to be stated.

I knew one very sharp individual - a technical person - who had developed a habit of making statements he set forth sound true by alluding to the fact that certain authors... let’s say: “Finkleberger, Smothers and
Costerson”, for example, “once wrote” so-and-so. I first became aware of his learned book-hooks when I realized he always used three authors and alluded to the fact that the text was available only in German or Classical Greek.
The aura created was that he could read the originals and we could not. His trio-quotes came in handy when setting forth presentations in our business. Always three! He never read a book by just one author. And he often added
icing to the sweet cake when he made reference to the books as “papers”, even as in “learned papers”, ”theses” or “manuscripts.”

Exactly how do we ascertain that something is true?

To me it seems to be what verbally uncouth persons might call “a gut feeling.” You sense, ’way down, that something rings true or does not do so. The old maxim : ”if it seems too good to be true, it probably is”
stands as a valid test.

We seem to be a nation which is easily led to con game
altars. Millions of dollars are thrown away by people every year who fall for a line of lies made to appear to be truth. We are constantly grabbing at straws hoping ,thereby, to avert some supposed disaster just ahead.

Truth , I feel, is best found in faith. Faith in oursleves and in our
heritage; in our friends and family. Faith in a religious sense, is a positive factor...a willingness to see ourslves as we really are. It is also an essential guide in seeking out Truth. It seems that, even today, as it has for centuries, goodness
equates with achievments and higher goals while evil seeks a constantly lower level.

All that - and I still cannot decide how we accept something to be true. Someday, I suppose, it will prove to be a mathematical concept as so much of life and living is about us in this world.

A.L.M. August 4, 2002 [c620wds]

 

MOLE BANE

The lowly mole digging under your front lawn, does not care for noise. He prefers quiet as he works, and he needs his rest.

I found a way to invite such pests too re-locate elsewhere than in the front lawn. I simply made it uncomfortable for them there by introducing a bit of natural noise.

In former times, I could go along the side of the road on which we lived and gather those short, stubby beer bottles - pints, I assume they were, which used to be sold in six-packs. I don’t see them anymore, but any
bottle of like size and shape will do. Half a dozen is all you will need.

Dig holes and “plant” the bottles in your lawn. Leave just an inch or so sticking up - a bit more If you like but enough so that you can see them to avoid smashing them to bits with a lawn mower. Plant them in
existing courses which the mole has raised in the lawn. If you plant them low down, drop a thin drinking straw into each to mark the precise spot.

For a pre-view, or pre-hear, of what is to take place blow across the top of an empty bottle. Wind passing over the bottle neck edges will make steady noise like that and it will circulate throughout the burrow and
cause the mole to seek a new, quieter home.

How long will it take? That will depend on how much the wind blows, of course. If it rains you will have to go along and empty the bottles or the tone will get sharper an disappear. I have heard of people installing a
small electic fan to blow across the units, but I’ve never tried such a fine-tuning method myself. I never had to do so.

In case all of this is too much bother and doesn’t appeal to you, the title of this piece mentions a weed that is not too unsightly or odiferous and which, I think, can be found in some seed stores. It can be used as a
natural means of warding off moles and other such critters from yard and garden areas. It’s called “Molebane”. It grows perhaps three feel tall and fits well enough with taller background plantings. One or two such plants will take
care of a good-sized area.

A word of caution: try to re-locate your moles rather than killing them. They are often worth their weight in coin of the realm because they eat bugs, mice and other causes of damage to your garden. They do ,
however, also eat earthworms which is a mark against mole saving. Poisons and steel traps can be used of course, but only with special caution. Plain old moth balls dropped into runways at regular intervals will also so the job in some
situations, so try that method initially and if it doesn’t work go the bottle-planting route. Your neighbors may look at you oddly, but ignore any remarks they may throw your way. Just smile and look the other way. After all , your exiled
lawn moles may well end up getting re-established in their front yard.

A.L.M. August 31, 2002 [c-534wds]

 

DEJA VU?

It has, no doubt, happened to you, too.

Have ever been somewhere and had a strange feeling come over ycu which insisted you had been there before?

Of course, you knew you had never been there before and you were startled when certain things seemed familiar.

I had such a feeling one time in a most unusual place. I was in Northern Ireland shortly before the end of World War II Europe. We were visiting that part of the Ireland which was open to G.I.s at the time. Two of us
knew we had Irish connections in our family histories, but it was long after that when I learned the many of the Irish and Scots leaving for America actually sailed from nearby Larne Harbor.

We had entered Ireland at Larne Habor, having come across the Irish Sea from the ferry port of Stanrear. I remember it was raining that morning and down the street to the wharf came a
marching band - dressed in green kilts and playing bagpipes! I might well have had some deje vu feelings at that point, but I registered only surprise in being welcomed with bagpipes in Ireland.

The feeling came over me severa days later when I was standing on the rocky shore near Bangor, Ireland looking out over the sea. For just a few moment I “knew”.... I knew I had been to that
exact spot. I knew it. I looked out across the bay beyond the narrow beach at the rusty hulk of a freighter broken in two on the rocks as a reminder of the war then in progress. Other such hulks were to be seen along the shore in those
days. My feeling was that I had just come up from that wreck except, in my memory it was a long, sleek sailing vessel which was broken on the rocks! I had, escaped , found my way through the pounding surf to the firm shore. I felt so
glad I had escaped; made it across the hundred yards of rock and froth I looked down and closed my eyes to orient myself. Then, since the feeling which pinned me to the spot was, suddenly no longer there, I walked away and
rejoined my friends.

“You o.k. , Andy?” asked Donovan and short, chubby little Irish buddy of mine from Lamay, Missouri. I said I was and we went up the hill to visit “Floral Park”, a botanical garden site.

Only recently did I find my family had marked Norse connections. We were from Norway originally and came to The Minch in Scotland, not as Vikings , but as farmers and herdsman two centuries after the Vikings
had raided Ireland, burned the villages and killed many people.

Over the years, I have thought of that moment. It seems to have been a wisp-like glimpse in to an area we do not, as yet, understand or even admit exists. I wrote a poem about it some years ago, too which may
have caught some elments of it I have missed herein.

Have you had such experiences? Or, am I the only such kook still on the loose?

A.L.M. September 14, 2002 [c-536wds]

 
MUSIC? IT WENT THAT-A-WAY!

I have been an ear-witness to some vast changes in American “popular” music in the past quarter of a century or so.

The trends have been gradual ever since the mid-1930’s, I suppose and as I think back over the music we had on our racks during the Big Band Era, I realize it was rather restricted. We played. mostly stock
orchestrations of ballads of the day, and jazz favorites from decades past. Occasionally, specific bands would do versions of classical favorites, general songs and even a folk melody now and then. It became easy to distinguish
between music by The Dorsey Brothers, then Tommy and Jimmy apart, Goodman, Glen Gray and The Casa Loma Band, Bob Crosby, Woody Herman, Red Norvo, Glen Miller and other favorites and the “sweeter” type of music
featured by Guy Lombardo, Jan Garber, Sammy Kaye, and waltzes by Wayne King. All of these and many more had replaced former groups which I remember such as the Coon-Sanders Band, The Six Brown Brothers, The Paul
Whiteman Band, B. A. Rolfe and a score of Dixieland groups, out of both New Orleans and Chicago. There was also a significant flow of popular music in such groups as Cab Calloway, Jimmy Lunceford, Lucky Miliinder, Fats Waller, Earl
Hines, Louis Armstrong ... plus many others.

I realize I am treading on dangerous ground when I start listing favorites. There are sure to be some of you who feel I have purposely eliminated your favorites from those I’ve been rattling off from the top of my
increasingly bare skull. Frank Dailey, Kay Kyser, Ace Brigode, Ray Pearl, Oliver Naylor, Little Jack Little, Ray McKinley for instance. There was a zany school, as well as fabulous stage band with a hyphanated name which escapes me at
the moment; Spike Jones, Red Engle and others doing pariodies and take-offs.

I have run off at the cartridge here it seems, so I’ll have to outline what I had in mind to write about - how pop music has divided into a set of individual types of music.

We now have ethnic or folk music, country and C&W music, we have those elements which evolved into rock through the rock-’n-roll transitional doorway with numerous sub-groups such as acid and punk. We also
have divisions of music called gospel, contemporary religious, gospel, nostalgia material echoing the recent past and referred to as “classics”, plus a growing category of what could be called “personality” music. This occurs on so
many CD’s today and all the tunes on a specific side are “generated”, if not actually written, by the individual featured on the CD. They are usually done with a set theme in mind which is the title of the CD.

Each of these, and others have, I feel, become individual classifiications on their own - and rightfully so.

Perhaps we can a talk about other such changes again soon, if you like.

A.L.M. September 14, 2002 [c499wds]

 
GABRIEL JONES, FRONTIER LAWYER

One of the first lawyers to qualify to practice in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, the advancing edge of our nation as it worked relentlessly westward in the 1700’s, was a man named Gabriel Jones.

His parents came to Williamsburg, Virginia in 1724 from Wales. Gabriel was born in Williamsburg May 17, 1724. When he was three years old, his father died and his mother traveled with her son to England. Records
show that the boy was baptized in the parish of St. Giles-in-the Fields. He was admitted to Boarding School at the age of eight. He was received through a presentation made by a Mr. Thomas Sanford of the parish and his father’s
name is recorded in Christ’s Hospital records as having been “James Jones , Citizen and Weaver. Deceased.”

When and why Gabriel returned to the Royal Colony of Virginia remain s a mystery, and the next time his name appears in public records is at the first court held in Frederick County, Virginia in 1743. There, with five
others, he was qualified as an attorney. He was, at the time, nineteen years of age.

Both Frederick County and Augusta County, to its south, were authorized in 1738, but they each delayed organizational meetings. Augusta County, withdrawing from Orange County, across the Blue Ridge
Mountains to the east, did so December 9, 1745 when it became one of the largest administative areas in the nation. Five attorneys qualifed at that court meeting and Gabriel Jones was among them. He faced a busy career and
became widely known and respected.

Gabriel Jones never became a “Rebel”, nor was he ever an active “Tory”. He, like Thomas, Lord Fairfax and some other upright men of the time, felt they could not take up arms for either side. They did not do so
out of religious convicrions and did not condemn war. Lord Fairfax had been a valued civic leader. He was in his eighties at the time, and chose to simply retire to the seclusion of his estate at “Greenway Court.” He was a personal
friend of George Washington’s and word was out that the man Fairfax was not to be molested in any way. When word of Yorktown was brought to him, he is said to have turned his face to the wall and said “All is ended”. At his side
stood his lawyer, confidant and friend Gabriel Jones. Both Lord Fairfax and Gabriel Jones were called “recusants” - a word which has which , some regret to say, has gone out of use in our time.

I remember talking with Virginia Historian Dr. Howard McKnight Wilson many year ago, about Gabriel Jones’ career and he said Jones could not have found a better area in which to practice law. Early settlers here
in the Valley were, he said, were “the most litigious people in the world”. They stood ready, at all times, to sue each other on the slightest, real or imaginary, affront. As one of the huge county’s five lawyers, Jones was blessed, or
cursed, with a constant supply of cases.

An extant portrait of Gabriel Jones shows him wearing a kerchief over the right side of his face seemingly because he had lost an eye earlier in life. I have found no explanation concerning such an injury. He,
perhaps, could have been easily engaged in fighting or in an accident. Another handicapped participant in Valley drama, in religious affairs, was a gentleman known as “One-Eyed Richardson”. He was made so by an early bout
with smallpox.

Jones had a fine spread on the banks of the Shenandoah River just below Port Republic. This section became part of Rockingham County when it was formed in 1778 and Jones was soon named to be one of the
county’s two representatives at the Virginia Constitutional Convention. A man named David Robertson was designated by that convention to record what was said in “shorthand” - the first debates recorded in the new form. The
records kept at that time show James Madison spoke over fifty times, Patrick Henry, over forty times, but with longer speeches. Gabriel Jones said nothing, but voted with the majority for approval of the new State Constitution . The
Valley votes being critical to that documents acceptance.

Even today, driving down toward the river you see road signs which tell you that you are traveling on ”Lawyer’s Road”.

A.L.M. September 10, 2002 [c739wds]

 

B .L. D.

Today might seem be a “Big Let Down” time for some people.

Much concern has been expressed in the past month or so concerning the distinct possibilities that we were going to “overdo” the observance of the first anniversary date of the September 11th suicide bombings
of the Trade Towers and of the Pentagon Building, in Northern Virginia. Plans sounded so grandiose and conclusive.

Now, more than half way through the 11th, I have been pleased with what I have heard.

Had I Iistened to radio or watched TV “full time”, I have a feeling I would be saying that it was too much of the same thing; endless emotion, which would have worn pretty thin had I over-used it. This happens a
great a deal in criticism , especially of television, I think. A person can watch too much TV, and many do exactly that. As a result they are sated by sameness and starved for sensationalism. If you sat down and read and re-read the
same story in a dozen newspapers all day you might get the feeling “they”, too, had “ovedone” it. I think the media, in general, maintained an acceptable level in what I have heard and seen thus far today. Most performed a
genuine public service in staying with the various cermonies for most of the day.

As the day progressed, I sensed, too, that the networks seemed to be grateful that nothing of any dire consequence had occurred in the wider scope of the news More than one of the participants apparently
woke up this morning wondering if some cataclysmic event would dominate the day, and, as the day worn on, they seemed to feel more and more relaxed and worry-free. Maybe this was an echo of my own, personal feelings. I’ll
never admit, of course, I that I might have been “ “worried”, in the least, but I was “concerned,” that something “wild” or “offbeat” may evolve from all the hate that has been engendered in recent months and so often focused
on the anniversary date as logical time for all of it to erupt.

Our enemies in this war against terrorism do not think in what we call “logical” terms. They remind me of a young kid who has learned to scribble numbers on the wall, the furniture, and any paper surface available,
but who does not, as yet, understand numbers can be processed in adding and multiplication applications of value. All of the things they do seem to be important, judging from the way Mom reacts when they do them!

No one can judge the mental state of the terrorist by usual standards. The manual on the “how to....” aspects of handling terrorists is still being written in blood, bound in flesh, and covered with human skin.
It will never be a “best seller”, when and if, it ever gets published, you can rest assured it will be one book we can judge by its cover.

More and more people looking at September 11, 2002 as a special mark after which we must set aside grief and sorrow and concentrate on doing something about the cause of such suffering.

A.L.M. September 11, 2002 (About 4 PM) [c-542wds]

 

ENVY COPY

From writing millions of words of advertising copy for radio and TV, I have learned that several emotions can be and are, exploited to make copy sell ideas, products and services. One such emotion to be
consciously played upon is that called “envy”.

The words you contrive to use will suggest to the mind of the hearer or viewer that he or she must have such-and-such a new product before others get theirs. The envy urge is very strong with many people and
easily tapped - especially with those who would deny they have any such feelings - and it is up to you as the copy writer to touch the critical nerve with teasing words and suggestions to encourage them to think about it. Men and
women seem to be equally eager to exceed others. Inject the right words through the voice tones of a skilled announcer, with either a leadership tone of domination or in a subtle, low-key, folksy exchange - almost confidential - with
his audience, and the combination will sell.

You set the tone with your words. Sometimes you might choose to be so plain as to “order” the hearer. “Be among the very first in your neighborhood to own a bright, new .....” Or, more subtle, “Your neighbors will
notice the bright, shiny new in your driveway...” Or, even less obvious: “Can’t you just imagine the sensation a new ______ in your drive way could cause! All the world is excited about the new---”

Yes, I find I often have a target type in mind when writing copy and you find you, too, will select certain people who can be aroused to prompt action by the simple voiced competent finding its way into their
presence. Many radio listeners have a built-in affinity for suggestions and that latent interest can be aroused with forceful, demanding word or two. No one likes to be last...a loser. Far better to the first - and a winner! Your words are
needed to convince that hearer to step forward and be counted among the winners.

Advertising with any aspect of modern living, changes with the times and it can be argued ,with good reason, that radio advertising is not the same powerful tool it was before TV came along. Radio was, at one
time, a forceful, demanding way to advertise and it worked some special miracles for a number of people, but it has changed radically. Commercial copy writers are virtually unknown in radio stations now. They
work largely with agency prepared copy, something older newspaper men used to call “boiler-plate copy” Or, they use copy supplied by the makers of the product as prepared by their agencies. Few stations now use the term “disc
jockey” any more, but when they came into existence they evolved into “personalities”. More and more they came to be sold as stars under titles such as the “Joe Pafoofnick Show!! with clank and clatter of mod music before, during
and after such an opening proclamation. These people sell largely through personality power and they make massive use of tapes done by others. Young people, in particular, respond, as do some older people who are filled with
nostalgic memories of their mis-spent teen age years. They miss the feelings of freedom and mobility they once knew. They are there, too, listening to Joe and many of them still wondering what they want to be when they grow up.

They all tend to buy whatever Joe Paffoofnick tells them to get. He is on their side and they yearn to get close to him. He touches the envy nerve button quite often in his loose, ad-lib manner and “right now”
urgency tone. I often get the feeling he needs to get to the bathroom just as soon as all this is over.

A whole host of current radio shows are labeled as “Talk Shows”.
There are some among them which might better be called “Rant Shows.”
Part of the talk or rant is of a commercial nature and it, once again , is based on personalities, showcased and on a support staff who are seldom mentioned as being essential and which includes writers handing the “star” funny or
sage-like things to “say”.

In most cases, not all, to be fair about it, but many, are what the British radio and TV people call them. To the BBC they are “News Readers” rather than “Commentators” “New Analysts” and other such laudatory
terms applied to the person you see or hear. He is reading “news” prepared some time earlier more often by others than his own hand and, sometimes with a carefully slanted purpose of which you may or may not become aware of
at all. Skilled have been the writers who put the words before him or her to be read in their particular, widely accepted style.

I have dealt briefly with just one way in which copy writers can, and do, touch you, personally. We will talk about others, sometime, if you like - such as “Beat”, “Chicken” and “Funny Bone” copy. Be mong the first to e-mail me
concerning your preference.
A.L.M. September 10, 2002 [c868wds]
]

 

BANKING -101

It is essential to good living that we understand the fundamentals of banking. We need to learn to save a portion of our hard earned wages and to do so with every intention of letting the basic amount stay
secure and untouched. It is intended to help sustain you in your advanced years.

I once worked with a fine old gentleman, who was employed as a “Sanitation Engineer” in the large industrial plant in which we both worked. His title was so listed on the “Table of Organization” chart in the
General Manager’s office. Translated into everyday terms, it meant he was hired to be a Janitor.

And, he was good at it, too. In better days, Riley had been a carpenter, I knew. He developed some physical problems which denied him access to the tools and contortions of carpentry, but he had a native
sense of neatness and took excellent care of cleaning our writing and artwork department and the area adjoining, as well. We found he could be trusted to make us look good.

I don’t remember how it came up but we found Riley to also be amazingly well read and well-informed about many things. We soon realized that he was putting us more often than we realized . He spoke one day
of having, as a carpenter and stone mason, worked on the original construction of the small town bank in the bedroom-community in which I lived, and where I once had a checking account. He praised the original owners of the
bank and some people I had know for many years. He told how grateful he was to those men who had started the bank and , especially, to one man who, more or less, worked there all his life. Riley told what a fine building it was they
built. Natively quarried limestone and it had white columns on the tiled portico so the it looked more like a bank than just another fast food drive-in location.

As with so many buildings of that era, it was, even as we talked , sitting derilict and unoccupied. It had been mergered out of existence some years ago, acquired and expanded into a big banking blah with
various names and branches everywhere else. That saddened Old Riley quite a bit and I can remember him learning thoughtfully on his broom handle as he remembered the good old days. He told us how much he admired that
bank cashier who had been there so many years.

“Even as that bank building was being built,” he recounted “and the sturdy vault walls of concrete vault were being poured, Mr. D. stood there and convinced me, a young man at the time, to take life-long
saving seriously. No one had ever talked with me in such a way since my Daddy died.”

Riley paused a moment, but did not shed tears. A moment, and he continued .

“An’ do you know what that banker man did? He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out some loose change. He counted three pennies into my hand and three for himself.
“Those are yours, Riley!” he said firmly “Yours to keep And, I clutched my new copper coins, bright and shiny in my hand and followed his example as we both threw the copper coins into to the small river of
concrete flowing into the wooden frame forming a wall of the bank’s vault!”.

“Now, Riley - I want you to remember this moment!. Whatever happens to you in the future, you can always say you’ve got money in the Weyers Cave Bank!”

“It still there, too!” Riley insisted. ”I haven’t touched one cent of it!”

A.L.M. September 9, 2002 [c-624wds]

 

BEYOND KNOWING?

Do we ever really understand the hardships experienced by those who have gone before us in the building of our nation?

Or, have we become so content in the relative comforts of present-day living to even care about what has gone before?

It is good to become aware of the events of the past and they are now available to us in so many ways. If we depend on our memory alone or that of partisan participants in many such events, we are apt to get
a warped idea of how things really were in the past.

Some may have a nostalgic tendency and tend to avoid all the unseemly features of life’s anxieties in a given era. Others may dwell too extensively on those same realities and make the past seem to have been a
time of harsh awakenings, stress and confusion.

It m might be wise to read of the past in various ways. The social or economic accounts will tell one version, the historical articles will give emphasis to patriotism and heroic deeds, cookbooks will give detailed
accounts of food-minded writers. It is also important that we read fictional accounts of the past, because therein we have a pleasant combination of reality and fantasy...not that which people did , but rather how they tried to
accomplish. Some succeeded; others failed and there is often ahint therein of what there is remaining for you and I to do. It gives us a keen awareness of the way life seemed to be viewed in the minds of people a hint much like us in
the past.

If you get the chance, either read or re-read the novel “Johnny Tremaine,” by Esther Forbes. It tells the story of the Boston Tea Party, Concord and Lexington in the early days of the America Revolution. The
events are made to live through the personalities of people caught up in the complexities of their own, personal moment of doubt and fear and joyful anticipation. Young boys almost of military age for those days, wanting to be
soldiers. Young girls with romantic ideas, older men who are both good and evil. Old women who are bossy, vindictive, loving and at times down right mean . What does the challenge of holding on to those they fought and often
died for, mean to us today?



Mary Rodd Furbee, a relative newcomer among much-needed American historical writers, presents an unusual theme intended be read primarily by young people, both girls and boys. She has centered, thus far,
on stories of the women involved in the expanding American frontier. Get a copy of her “Outrageous Women of Colonial America.” It is all about a varied group of women who went against the social patterns of their day. Furbee
has written several other books for young people “ ,”Anne Bailey, Frontier Scout” and “Shawnee Captive, The Story of Mary Draper Ingles”.
Others have followed and, to my way of thinking, they are a re-birth of a genre of literature which is much needed with our younger readers especially. The Mary Rodd Furbee series are straight forward, simply told biographies about
women of frontier America who have helped to make our nation a more worthy place in which to live. They are books which are intended for young people, but older people will find they to be worthwhile reading, too.

Make a note of it: Read - Forbes’- “Johnny Tremaine” and Mary Rodd Furbee’s ”Outrageous Women of Colonial America”. Strengthen your faith in America.

A.L.M. Sept. 8, 2002 [c-593wds]

 





MOUNTAIN INCLINE

When, perchance, I fall on evil times and find I cannot do certain things as well as I ought to be able to do, I start looking back to possible mistakes in my upbringing. I try to determine when and where my parents
could have caused such a deficiency in my makeup.

In that way was I try to prove something which, as they say “warped me for the rest of my life.” It must happen that way. The textbooks say it can and does. Or, could. We are asked to assume,of course, that
those textbooks were written by unwrapped “experts”.

It has helped me decide several things during my lifetime.

There used to be a genuine, turn-of-the-century style mountain incline on Mill Mountain , in what is now a well-populated part of Roanoke, Virginia... way back when the Roanoke motto was “The Magic City”.

I never got to ride it! That’ s where I think my loving parents possibly went awry. Had they taken me on a ride up the side of Mill Mountain on that clickity-clackity rail-grabber I may, for instance, have grown up
without my phobia about riding roller coasters and other such demonic contrivances which now infest our theme parks.

Just think, if I , as a small child, have been bundled up and stashed away on one of those long seats and been magically wafted into the clouds to the top of Mill Mountain, in Roanoke, Virginia what a tremendous
difference such a childhood adventure might have made in my psyche!

Perhaps several such trips would have been needed to imbue within me a acceptance of being strapped into a movable mechanism and whirled upward, outward ,over and under - who knows in what
directions. I was taken on the Ferris Wheel as a youngster; the Merry- Go-Round and even on those little canvas-seated contraptions which whirled us around a center pole or pylon at carnivals.

As I remember it, there was a two-storied entrance arch at the lower end of the incline and I vaguely recall seeing it on a picture post card, with a horse and buggy waiting at the entrance, which gives you an
idea of how up-to-date I am on the one-time attraction.

There is one factor which leaves my parents off the hook, however, and that was the fact that I never remember seeing the Mill Mountain Incline in actual operation . It may well have been that when my
memories started taking over it became a sort of wish thing. I wished I could have ridden it - even just once.

It was years before I gave the idea up and as a teen ager I remember writing a song s about it: “Mill Mountain Incline, Where You and I Made Love”. It’s still around somewhere in my music files, but when I visit
Roanoke today there is not the slighest sign of the old place. For many years there was an obvious, up-the-side of the mountian, treeless incision which was apparent for many years which marked the location of the incline. Mother
Nature has erased such a scar memory of it. Maybe someone else remembers it, too.

On second or third thought, I doubt, seriously if I was in any way bent or frustrated by failing to ride the thing. Today the mountain itself appears to have been little more than a steep hill than a mountain.


A.L.M. September 6, 2002 [c-577wds]

 

COLONIAL COINS

We hear about bartering and the exchange of valued holdings for other properties and we assume people in the l700’s had currency and coins.

In 1764 the David Cloyd place located in what was then Augusta County, Virginia - now Montgomery, near Blacksburg, was pillaged by Indians. Details of the attack are extant and among those items stolen was
two hundred Pounds of gold and silver coins.. One Indian raider was killed who was carrying 138-Pounds 18 Shillings of the coins. He actually made it thirty miles from the Cloyd farm, but the sheer weight of the money may well have
been the cause of his death.

We know about the exact nature of the money because the recapture resulted in a somewhat bizzare law suit. The militia who recovered the money claimed it belonged to them’ while others thought it belong to
the previous owner David Cloyd. The mlitia divided the money among its members, some of whom returned their share to Cloyd. He sued the head of the militia for 137-Pounds, 19-Shillings remainder.

It is interesting to see the type of coinage early settlers used in their business transactions. The Court Records show the Cloyd’s coins involved in the suit itself, consisted of 137-Pounds, 19 -Shillings and 8-1/2 Pence
with the breakdown being as follows:

“3 Double Loons” - a Spanish coin worth about $7.20.
“36 Pistoles” - a Spanish coin worth about $3.60.
“1 Half Double Loon” - Spanish and worth half of $7.20.
“ 4 Guineas” - an English coin worth, perhaps, $4.66.
“4 Louis-d’or,called loodore” - French - $4.44.
“16 Round Pistoles” - Spanish and one assumes worth $3.60 , the same as the regular postole.
“3 Half Pistoles”. - Spanish and worth half of $3.60.
“2 Half Johannas” (or “Joe”) - a Portugese coin worth $8.00.
Plus 9 “Dollars” and “some small change.“

Try paying for a bag of beans with that selection of coins! Small wonder early business was often conducted with tobacco or whiskey as a means of payment.

By the way, with the help of one of the frontiers’s leading lawyers - Gabriel Jones, David Cloyd won the lawsuit ordering the return of the rest of his money but the ruling was appealed to a higher court and we
don’t know where it went from there!

Watch it, now! Don’t take any wooden piostoles.

A.L.M. Sepember 6, 2002 [c-396wds]

 



MY SOLE HOLE IN ONE

During the later days of World War II when the presence of the 8th Air Force was no longer needed in England we were looking forward to a short stay at home and then, almost certainly, we would be reformed
and ship out for the Pacific theater, since the war with Japan was still in progress. During those months of 1945 we had more duty-free time.

Three of my friends were going to play golf and I joined them to make up a foursome . We went to a place called, I’m sure, Eton Golf course near Norwich, Norfolk County, England, by means of several changes of
double-decker busses.

On the course we came to, as I remember, the third hole and it proved to be a wild one. We were to tee off across a deep ravine toward a green we could not actually see. We were told the hole was just beyond
the high bunker which was build along the far edge of the ravine. So, that was the area to which we would want to direct our drives.

We did so, and all four of us made it across the ravine. We had to walk down a series of hairpin curved pathways to get to the bottom of the chasm and, then, up the other. It was the shortest hole on the entire
course, but one of the most demanding because of the mountain climbing training required.

We arrived at the bunker knoll to see that a foursome of British soldiers had been playing just ahead of us. They were just starting into the next fairway having driven off, no doubt in a bombardment of four whizzing
balls as we drove off across the ravine behind them.

We found our golf balls, all except mine, and the first man to make the cup let out a scream. ”It’s here, Andy! Your ball is in here! In the cup!
You made a hole in one!”

On my way to the hole from where I had been searching for my lost ball, I noticed the British foursome ahead had gathered in a knot and they seemed to be enjoying my hole in as much as were my friends! They
whooped and waved; shook hands with themselves above their heads...shouted their congratulations and waved! They knew more about it, obviously, than we did and being as sharp as the well-known tack, I decided that we
have been set up. I knew at once that my hole in one was a set-up by the British military establishment.

My drive must have struck near on to the Brits- or, I hope actually clipped his rear end, and , as joke - just to see what “those crazy Yanks would do” ‘ - he, or they, had dropped the ball into the cup as they moved
out.

They moved off and so did we. There was a sleepy old-timer at the Field House where we turned in our rented equipment. We had agreed not to mention any holes-in-one. have often wished I had bought that
driver and I still have the marked ball. It is a token of my one great golfing achievement - a superbly rigged hole in one - courtesy of a fine trooper of His and Her Majesty’s stalwart troops.

Thank you, Matey - wherever you may be.

A.L.M. September 5, 2002 [c-571wds]

 

CURIOUS TIME

.I find it dificult to recall a time when we, as a nation, have been in such a strange
situation . Give it a moment of special consideration.

We are a nation “at war” against Terrorism. Our enemy, once again, a multi-faced group
Some of those who oppose us are mere shadows and cannot be readily singled out as nations.
There is a disturbing undercurrent involving religion which is, to me,the true danger we must
ultimately face.

President George W. Bush has been doing what is expected of our president in time
of war. He has been actively speaking to remind us that we are in such a national state
of emergency. That, oddly enough, is a point the Congress seems all too ready to ignore
overlook in it while eagerly seeking partisan entrenchment during a time of urgency.
Keeping the nation alert has been made a presidential function by a Congress in default
which is more concerned with the next election than with the conduct of a vague,
unpredictable war situation

Because of the complex make up of our “enemy”, President Bush has dealt with
one of the more obvious threats to our well-bring - Saddam Huessien and the potential
threat from Iraq. Along with a politically based refusal to see what he is doing in a
rhetorical sense, many say he has overdone the Saddam theme.

I don’t feel that he has feel exceeded logical bounds at all. The previously known
enemy of our is one the general public can see as a real threat and dwelling on the Iraq
question has been one way of keeping national attention alive concerning the war in
which we are now engaged. It is obvious that President Bush will lose much of his present
popularity with the American public as long as he insists on this emphasis on Iraq. World
opinion is against his plans to invade Iraq. The media is making much of these refusals of
foreign powers to back Bush’s stated intentions in regard to Iraq. Oddly enough we are
also aware of the fact that foreign leaders, such as Prime Minister Tony Blair of Great
Britain who has been quoted as saying: George Bush “operates on security issues in a
calm, sensible and measured way.” Former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher has recently
said: “This is no time to go wobbly, George.”

President Bush has, this week, shown signs of - not “backing off”, as much of the
media suggests - but rather of letting it be known that he fully intends to ask the
approval of Congress and of the UN Security Council for whatever he plans to undertake.
This action reinforces his views and puts a traditional stamp on his theme.

The nation will feel better about it all.

A.L.M. September 4, 2002 [c475wds]

 

ROCKERS, ON AND OFF

What, precisely, is this “rocker” we are supposed to be “off of” so often?

May I withdraw that word “we”?

It is always some other person...never ourselves...who are in this
condition of “being off one’s rocker” and we seem to hold them in low esteem because of their plight. There is a tangent thought which says they could do something about it ,too, if they wished to do so.

The illustration of the term could be as real as it seems to be and make reference to a rocking chair without a rocker. In such condition it is useless and could create real problems if used as intended. Without a
rocker, it could not function at all. Or, if one abandoned it, as well.

Judging by previous experience with such folksy expressions and their beginnings, it would not prove to be a disappointment to me to find that the expession has nothing whatever to do with rocking chairs. We
have other expressions containing the same idea - “off base”, “off keel”,
“off limits” plus others.

It is, then, a standard , shall we agree, which we have set arbitrarily, by which we can judge a person’s conduct in relation to his or her success in meeting those standards or qualifications for holding active,
membership cards in the community of human beings.

How accurate is such a standard? Does it need revisions?

Have we set low standards to assure personal membership in the group? That has happened in many aspects of our living today, such as in the educational field and, to a degree in competitive sports. Rules are
tempered to suit the need of the average participant rather than the super-star. For those who excel in an endeavor the rules are tightened up a bit; just enough to make it difficult for the non-pro types to win consistently.

In general application, however, the term “off his rocker” has come to be associated with mental deficiencies or with temporary instances of poor judgment. A person who simply disagrees with you concerning a
stated subject judged by you to be “off his rocker”.. “a nut”... some one suffering from hallucinations, delusions“ or worse.

Are not inventors people who go against the accepted rules and standards of their time? They do not accept the idea that such a thing as they wish to do or make is “impossible.” They just go on and do it, and
often they have been aware of the fact hat they were breaking temporal or religious rules in doing so.

In recent years baseball and rock music have added new dimensions to the term “rocker” so the saying comes to mean less and less. If by “off his rocker” you mean that the individual plainly indicates by his
conduct, language or statements that his mental elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top floor; or that his or her mind is stuck in skid condition and not always tracking well on life’s surfaces, then you are not alone.

The important thing about it all may well be that we never know when someone is estimating where we stand on the charts. Be careful of statements and acts which may seem to be “too far out” or “too far in”.
Politically-minded individuals have put great store in that sort of classifying in recent years. It may be that someone you know who thinks you are a bit “off your rocker” when you do something you’ve been doing all along for years.

People ask me why, at eighty six years of age, I write every day; play guitar and sing a bit, as if I expected something to come of it all. I know what some of them are thinking, especially the couch potatoes, who
are doing the same thing watching TV reruns.

Which of us can be said to be: “ off his rocker?”

A.M.. Sept 4, 2002 [c658wds]

 

CRYSTAL BALL
I saw a survey recently which determined that people, in general, do not place any trust at all in those people who claim they can foretell coming events.

In a nearby city, some years ago, I can remember a lady who was established as a local clairvoyant and who had set up residence in a low field. Hers was what we then called, quite properly a movable trailer
home, the early version of today’s much more mobile and modular homes. She had set up a rather large, gaudy sign which said “Know What Tomorrow Will Bring! Be Ready! Psychic Readings by Madam_____! Day or Evening Hours.”
She supplied ample, free parking, too.

I drove to work one rain-swept morning and the police and local firemen were busy rescuing her from her floating mobile home doorway in a boat. She had failed to foresee the rapid flooding from a nearby creek
which caused by excessive rains upstream and surrounded her home.

She was dried out and back in business a week so or
so later, once again foretelling the future for all comers. Business, I think, must have been less than good, however, because I drove past one day and noticed her trailer home had been moved out.

If the survey is correct and so few people say they do believe in and consult such wonder workers an a regular basis, it stands to reason their fees must be high enough to sustain a life with even just a few patrons.
Their customers do remain loyal and gullible to extremes, it seems. Advertising for such business firms has again become obvious in many newspapers, some magazines, and on Internet pages, than every before. I can’t imagine any
of them being approved by the Better Business Bureau, Consumer’s Union, or any other approvals organizations. Yet, they seem to prosper and proliferate everywhere... at least for a time. They come and go at regular intervals filling
empty store-front locations in decadent downtown areas in many cities, in small towns on spare building sites, in resort areas and in the edge of both shanty-towns and up-scale residential developments.

The clientele is varied it seems and their telephone and e-mail accounts probably take in more revenue than actual visits to their “studios.” A great many people seem to feel about the same as if they
were seen entering an Adult Toys and Books Store. The electronic branch of the business is growing and it is not uncommon for several such far-out know-it-alls to sell their product by wire and wireless means from the same, small,
rented office space shared with others.

Such scams are, it seems, “feline” by nature and have, at least, nine lives or, perhaps a few more. Senior citizens are, for too often, key targets for some such devilish doings and it is not the sort of thing victims like to
talk about either. As a result, much of the harm being done goes unreported and unpunished. “Unrecorded” as it is often said to be.


If you are, in any way, responsible for older friends or relatives, take some time to determine what their feelings are in regard to these and other scams. Take action to curb such impulsive interests.


A.L.M. September 3, 2002 [c-548wds]

 
CC APPLICATION FORMS

I would estimate I have three or four credit card application appeals delivered to my mailbox at curbside each week. Since we live in a development area which has streets but no curbs, that’s quite an
accomplishment in itself, but I wonder how the stability of those people in banks, and others, who expend so much money in the distribution of their sometimes gaudy printed forms. I keep thinking there must be a
hugh-mongous profit involved in handling credit card accounts just to pay for keeping the junk mail channel so jammed all the time.

It is not unusual to get four or five such appeals in unmatched sets in one mail delivery and from all over the country ... not just locally originated. They don’t know me from - well, they might actually mail to Adam
and, what was his wife’s name ---Eve. That’s right! They’ve gone back a long way to sign people up. I usually open them and why I do so Will be revealed before we finish.

I have never replied to one of them. I have heard of some nasty individuals who know how to “get even with” these senders of unsolicited
mails, too. While I have been tempted to follow their advice, I have not fallen that low yet. They mail the postage permit return envelopes back empty or with the literature enclosed. If you have every worked with such postage-paid
mailings you know you pay a pretty steep and , no doubt rising price for each return, and “empties” coming back in any amount can ruin the budget.

I have never had the nerve to do such a thing, but I have long felt I could cause a commotion in the offices by filling out the portion for the form which, commonly, asks for my annual anticipated income. I can
honestly and truthfully check the box which reads “less than $11,000.” I can be fairly sure I will be dropped form their mailing lists in the future by doing so. After all, they have been offering me credit as high as Mt. Everest is tall! My
mole hill income would caused consternation in the mailroom.

Some of the credit card application forms try to make us think they are the greatest thing since Santa Claus and without all that clatter of reindeer hooves on your roof and the chatter of elves unloading gifts for
you. (Anyone who thinks S. Claus still does the physical part of his job has not kept in touch with Claus’ contract clauses at all.

Among the application forms senders, I dislike most those cheapskates who print on both sides of the good quality paper most of them use. That inconsiderate act on their part means I cannot re-cycle their
sheets as scratch paper, doodle pads and for other uses around my cluttered desk. One can build a ream of such one-sided, re-useable paper quickly on credit card application forms alone.

There are numerous types with Visa and Master Card tie-ins and before long every known business will have their own version.

I’m waiting for one which will combine all of them into one and select the one which gives you the best deal on whatever you buy. It will be called a “Card Card”.

I must be sure to get several of those.

A.L.M. September 1, 2002 [c 568wds]

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01/16/2005 - 01/23/2005
01/23/2005 - 01/30/2005
01/30/2005 - 02/06/2005
02/06/2005 - 02/13/2005
02/13/2005 - 02/20/2005
02/20/2005 - 02/27/2005
02/27/2005 - 03/06/2005
03/06/2005 - 03/13/2005
03/13/2005 - 03/20/2005
03/20/2005 - 03/27/2005
03/27/2005 - 04/03/2005
04/03/2005 - 04/10/2005
04/10/2005 - 04/17/2005
04/17/2005 - 04/24/2005
04/24/2005 - 05/01/2005
05/01/2005 - 05/08/2005
05/08/2005 - 05/15/2005
05/15/2005 - 05/22/2005
05/22/2005 - 05/29/2005
05/29/2005 - 06/05/2005
06/05/2005 - 06/12/2005
06/12/2005 - 06/19/2005
06/19/2005 - 06/26/2005
06/26/2005 - 07/03/2005
07/03/2005 - 07/10/2005
07/10/2005 - 07/17/2005
07/17/2005 - 07/24/2005
07/24/2005 - 07/31/2005
07/31/2005 - 08/07/2005
08/07/2005 - 08/14/2005
08/14/2005 - 08/21/2005
08/21/2005 - 08/28/2005
08/28/2005 - 09/04/2005
09/04/2005 - 09/11/2005
09/11/2005 - 09/18/2005
09/18/2005 - 09/25/2005
09/25/2005 - 10/02/2005
10/02/2005 - 10/09/2005
10/09/2005 - 10/16/2005
10/16/2005 - 10/23/2005
10/23/2005 - 10/30/2005
10/30/2005 - 11/06/2005
11/06/2005 - 11/13/2005
11/13/2005 - 11/20/2005
11/20/2005 - 11/27/2005
11/27/2005 - 12/04/2005
12/04/2005 - 12/11/2005
12/11/2005 - 12/18/2005
12/18/2005 - 12/25/2005
12/25/2005 - 01/01/2006
01/01/2006 - 01/08/2006
01/08/2006 - 01/15/2006
01/15/2006 - 01/22/2006
01/22/2006 - 01/29/2006
01/29/2006 - 02/05/2006
02/05/2006 - 02/12/2006
02/12/2006 - 02/19/2006
02/19/2006 - 02/26/2006
02/26/2006 - 03/05/2006
03/05/2006 - 03/12/2006
03/12/2006 - 03/19/2006
03/19/2006 - 03/26/2006
03/26/2006 - 04/02/2006
04/02/2006 - 04/09/2006
04/09/2006 - 04/16/2006
04/16/2006 - 04/23/2006
04/23/2006 - 04/30/2006
04/30/2006 - 05/07/2006
05/07/2006 - 05/14/2006
05/14/2006 - 05/21/2006
05/21/2006 - 05/28/2006
05/28/2006 - 06/04/2006
06/04/2006 - 06/11/2006
06/11/2006 - 06/18/2006
06/18/2006 - 06/25/2006
06/25/2006 - 07/02/2006
07/02/2006 - 07/09/2006
07/09/2006 - 07/16/2006
07/16/2006 - 07/23/2006
07/23/2006 - 07/30/2006
07/30/2006 - 08/06/2006
08/06/2006 - 08/13/2006
08/13/2006 - 08/20/2006
08/20/2006 - 08/27/2006
08/27/2006 - 09/03/2006
09/03/2006 - 09/10/2006
09/10/2006 - 09/17/2006
09/17/2006 - 09/24/2006
09/24/2006 - 10/01/2006
10/01/2006 - 10/08/2006
10/08/2006 - 10/15/2006
10/15/2006 - 10/22/2006
10/22/2006 - 10/29/2006
10/29/2006 - 11/05/2006
11/05/2006 - 11/12/2006
11/12/2006 - 11/19/2006
11/19/2006 - 11/26/2006
11/26/2006 - 12/03/2006
12/03/2006 - 12/10/2006
12/10/2006 - 12/17/2006
12/17/2006 - 12/24/2006
12/24/2006 - 12/31/2006
12/31/2006 - 01/07/2007
01/07/2007 - 01/14/2007
01/14/2007 - 01/21/2007
01/21/2007 - 01/28/2007
01/28/2007 - 02/04/2007
02/04/2007 - 02/11/2007
02/11/2007 - 02/18/2007
02/18/2007 - 02/25/2007
03/25/2007 - 04/01/2007
04/01/2007 - 04/08/2007
08/05/2007 - 08/12/2007
08/26/2007 - 09/02/2007
11/18/2007 - 11/25/2007
12/09/2007 - 12/16/2007
12/21/2008 - 12/28/2008
01/04/2009 - 01/11/2009
07/26/2009 - 08/02/2009