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Saturday, January 06, 2007
Standing with Joe

 Joe Lieberman on Iraq
"In Iraq today we have a responsibility to do what is strategically and morally right for our nation over the long term -- not what appears easier in the short term. The daily scenes of death and destruction are heartbreaking and infuriating. But there is no better strategic and moral alternative for America than standing with the moderate Iraqis until the country is stable and they can take over their security. Rather than engaging in hand-wringing, carping or calls for withdrawal, we must summon the vision, will and courage to take the difficult and decisive steps needed for success and, yes, victory in Iraq. That will greatly advance the cause of moderation and freedom throughout the Middle East and protect our security at home."

From the Washington Post, Dec. 29th, 2006
 
I believe President Bush also "stands with Joe."  My highest hope is that the President has the personnel and resources in place to bring about the strategic and moral alternative to allow moderate Iraqis to determine their own security and their own victory. 
 
Logically (to me, at least), there is no rationale NOT to call upon religious factions to assume responsible leadership in their respective regions of influence.  While current Iraqi leadership does not want provinces to have autonomy, this may be the most expedient way to achieve peaceful coexistence while concurrently -- with coalition support -- riding their country of foreign insurgents. 
 
If we can support Iraq in achieving this level of self-governance -- militarily, economically, politically  -- we will have "won."
 
 

Posted at 07:14 pm by Gull
Comment (1)  




 
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
LALALALALALALA!

I've resolved to expand my cultural sensitivity and awareness this year. 

I'm willing to concede that the LALALALALALALA! chant may involve a range of decibels which alters its meaning and may, indeed, connote  something very similar to more familiar cultural quips and utterances as:

"yippie yi yo ki yahhhh" or 
"oi vey" or
"aussie aussie aussie oi oi oi" or even
"uuuh rah!"

Depending upon infliction, could it also mean the same as:
 
"Hot damn?"
"Bloody damn good?"
"Hallelujah?"
"Choi duc oi?" 
"Kiwabonga?"
"Cool beans?"
"EEEEEEKS?"
"Please, God.  NO!!!"?
"YEAAAAAAAAA"?
 
"You gotta be kidding!!"?
"Fugiddaboudit"?
"What the h---?"
"22 skiddo"?
"Fair dinkum?"

Notwithstanding, the universal

          ??? 

Anyway -- If it's good enough for the Iraqi, it's good enough for me.
 

Pat Robertson needs to stay attuned to his humanitarian efforts and stop with the messages from God.  No more predictions, OK, Pat?  All we need is for someone of conservative affiliation to muck up the political pot (such as running again for President -- LALALALALALA!) and remind middle- American that the far right contains as many loonies as the far left .... Hillary will love it. 

LALALALALALALALALALALA! 
Meaning #1: Shut up and feed the hungry, Pat.
Meaning #2:  God forbid.
Meaning #3:  Say NO to Hillary.

On second thought -- maybe Hillary is associated with the alleged "disaster" God was telling Pat about .... LALALALALALALA!  Meaning:  From God's lips to  Pat's ears.

*  Can anyone sorta-understand the mob-mentality which the hanging committee exhibited when Saddam stepped to the gallows?  While it certainly was not the solemn occasion one might expect amongst most western-encultured folks, let's not forget that this low-life had mercilessly massacred millions.  LALALALALALALALALA!!!!!!   Meaning:  Ding dong, the witch is dead.

I'm still pondering the last word Saddam spat ("Muqtada"), which likely set-off a "LALALALALALALA" feeding frenzy as he dangled at rope's end.   Muqtada was certainly not the image of a "god-send" Saddam had in mind -- he had already killed Muqtada's father ....  Meaning:  blah blah blah blah!  We're not listeningggggg!

But I digress.

In truth -- I can't blame those folks for not waiting for allah to drag that piece of dung through hot deserts and sand spurs enroute to eternal hell. 

AND While the common "LALALALALALALA" is not a celebratory retort I'm partial to (I'd have likely uttered a prayer that Saddam's spirit be sucked  down the closest drain by those evil forces from Ghost),  maybe "LALALA" also means "burn in the darkest corner of hell, you scumbag."

*  I'm also concerned that the hanging party included Muqtada followers -- assigned by PM Maliki.  He's a home-boy, after all.  What would you have expected?   LALALALALALALA!    Meaning:  "neener neener neener!"

*  Headlines today suggest that Maliki wants to step down before his term as PM is up.  That would be good.  LALALALALALALA!!!!!!  Meaning:  Don't delay our disappointment.

He's ineffective, weak and seemingly has little to no respect from his electorate.  Resign and save your country, Maliki.  LALALALALALALA! 
Meaning:  "Don't make me have to type in caps!"


Posted at 10:37 am by Gull
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Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Romney Announcement Pending

Mitt Romney will delay announcing an exploratory committee to seek the 2008 Presidential nomination until after the formal mourning period for former President Gerald Ford.

Good luck, Mitt Romney! 

For those interested, check out the "Romney Watch" blogroll in the sidebar .....


Posted at 12:53 pm by Gull
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Monday, January 01, 2007
Chapter 2

Jess Loren unlocked the gates to Balsam High School and by rote, completed the security and maintenance checks he had performed for twenty-eight years. He wanted to buff the main lobby again before the new principal arrived. Meticulous in his custodian duties, he was a proud man who refused to acknowledge the disease that was ravaging his body. "...a touch of flu," he had told his wife. "Just let me nap a little before supper...." The flu symptoms had lingered, however, now for over two months. "You're going to the doctor this week, " his wife declared. "This has gone on too long."

"Come read to me and I'll feel better," he asked. "There's 'posed to be an article on the new principal in the paper." Jess Loren could neither read nor write. His wife and later his children had tried to teach him, to no avail. Armed only with a scrawl of signature, he had survived by memorizing the arrangement and form of letters, numbers and symbols that his wife had methodically described for him.

The taunts of classmates and indifference of teachers had driven him from school after the fifth grade. Disappearing with his family into the West Woods beyond Balsam, he was free to learn the way of the wilderness, to hunt and trap, collect herbs and run moonshine through the back-hills. He had joined the Army on his eighteenth birthday. Forty-nine months later, he returned to Balsam Valley -- a war hero with numerous commendations, medals, and a full medical discharge. During his fourth tour with recon operations in South Vietnam, PFC Jess Loren had been severely wounded while single-handedly killing eight Viet Cong interrogators who attempted to force him to sign his name to a document.

Jess had invested his savings in a stallion, three brood mares and received a VA loan on a small farm in the western edge of the valley. As the conduit for his family's moonshine business, Jess Loren also became Balsam's unofficially sanctioned provider of quality healing liniments and spirits for both equine and equestrians. War heroes in Balsam Valley, regardless of their educational level, were afforded the same "legal variance" as the young men who garnered football and baseball trophies for the high school. The federal government, however, did not afford that variance for filing and paying taxes.

Doc Wesley, prominent horseman and the first physician to establish a practice in the Valley, had suggested that local officials hire Jess to provide him a verifiable income. Within days, Jess Lorne joined the custodial staff at the high school, working a split shift from 5:30-8:30 A.M. and 7-10 P.M., with a ten-hour "flex" schedule for weekend supervision and maintenance emergencies. It was understood that Jess would not transport or sell liniment on school property, but would make deliveries to local consumers before his evening work schedule.

Jess had met Lina Crowe at a wake for his uncle. She had shared his love for horses and was studying veterinary science at the community college. The black hair, olive skin and deep eyes of her Indian heritage had reminded him of the women he had known in Vietnam. It had not mattered that she was his third cousin. They courted for one month, consummated their love in the stable loft and were married by a justice of the peace two months later. It was an omen of good fortune that their first-born was male. William Crowe Loren would be taught the traditions of his mother's heritage and his father's knowledge of the wilderness. It was his parents' hope that he would also share their love of horses.

Will Loren and his two younger sisters, Jessica and Caroline, met every aspiration set by their parents. Jess' greatest fear for his children was averted -- each had learned to read and write before entering public school. Will earned a degree in animal husbandry; Jessica was employed by the Forest Service; Caroline was completing her veterinary science degree at the state university. Although the children were aware of the liniment trade that flourished in the back of the feed shed, none were ever involved in it. Only Will and Jessie had succumbed to youthful curiosity and opened a jar of that clear, beaded libation.

Years later, maintaining the Loren tradition of family-talk around the kitchen table, Will and Jessica would entertain their beloved parents and growing families by recounting the "pukin" and "whuppin" they had experienced, each event either witnessed or delivered by the firm but gentle hand of their father ......

••••

He heard Lucinda Switzer yelling at him long before he turned off the buffer. "You talkin' to me, Miz Switzer?" A large, thick-bodied woman bearing the characteristic "Combs clan" elongated face stood at the end of the hall with her hands on her hips. "No, I was not talking to you, Mr. Loren. I was screaming at you. Are you deaf, too?" Lucie-Moosie...

Lucinda Switzer had not shared her brother Cleve's acceptance of their nickname. Cleve assumed it referred to his athletic prowess and not his physical appearance. No one had dared call "Moose" Combs' younger sister "Lucie-Moosie" to her face since the third grade -- when she chased Jacob Collier into the boys' bathroom and whipped him senseless.

"Sorry, Miz Switzer. Can't hear good with this machine runnin'." Jess knew it annoyed her when people did not "snap to" at the sound of her voice.

The media director and self-appointed head of Student Services at Balsam High School was chairman of the local teacher organization, historian for the regional DAR, the Superintendent's sister, and was the wife of J. Earl Switzer, an outsider who owned the only hardware store in the Valley. Other than the parents and community leaders who had attended her late night meetings in the media center, only Jess Loren knew of the horrific power and control she wielded.

"I need to get into the cafeteria kitchen."

"You know I can't unlock the kitchen. That's federal property in there." She did not know that only the storage room was a restricted area.

"I'm here to prepare breakfast for the Leadership Team's meeting, Mr. Loren. I have to get into the kitchen." He pushed the buffer toward her, silently wishing it was the scrubber. He would have deliberately sprayed soap on her patent leather wedge-heel shoes.

Several years ago she had humiliated him in front of students."I left you a note explaining that the material in the red garbage can was to be shredded. Can't you read, Mr. Loren?" The long handle of the machine brushed against Lucinda Switzer's skirt. "I ain't openin' that kitchen." His voice was a low growl.

Recoiling from the tone of his voice and the coldness in his eyes, she turned and clumped briskly down the hall, shouting to the custodian behind her, "I will remember this, Mr. Loren. At least find me a cart to move the food from my car."

"There's one in your closet, Miz Switzer." A sharp pain in his side jolted him from the images of torture he envisioned for her.

••••

Lucinda Switzer unlocked the door to the closet adjacent to the media center and lifted the paper shredder from the cart. Scuffing her shoe at rust marks left by filing cabinets which had stood in the corner, she surveyed the small room again for evidence of her work. She had burned the last bag of shredded paper, destroying what she thought to be the only copies of the transcripts and reports she had prepared.

Closing the door behind her, she was wheeling the cart into the hallway as she heard voices from the lobby. She had not been the first to greet Luke Allen.

••••

"Welcome, Dr. Allen. I'm Lucinda Switzer, your librarian. My friends call me Luci."

"Good to meet you, Mrs. Switzer. As I was telling Mrs. Workman and Mr. Loren, I am anxious to meet the staff and get to work."

"Breakfast will be served at seven. Faculty members not on the Leadership Team will be assisting me. I'll bring you coffee before the meeting."

"Thanks, but Mr. Loren already has a pot brewing in the office."

"Very well. Do you think Mr. Loren could possibly open the kitchen for me?"

Luke nodded approvingly toward the man with the loop of keys dangling from his belt. "I'm sure he will."

Stepping back to avoid the buffer handle that brushed her skirt, Lucinda Switzer's face contorted into forced pleasantry. "Coming to help us set up, MayEllen?"

"Later, Lucinda. I need to assist Dr. Allen first."

••••

The breakfast meeting progressed smoothly. Members of the Leadership Team made brief introductions, then responded to Luke's request to identify three strengths and three weaknesses within the departments they represented. "A good approach," Lucinda Switzer noted. She had planned to serve the Team, then, she and her servers would eat at a back table within earshot of the discussions.

Lucinda observed Luke Allen closely. His recommendations had been impeccable. The search committee had interviewed over ninety current and former colleagues. There was absolutely nothing in his background to disqualified him from consideration. He had been described as bright and creative, a consummate educator who aspired only to work as a principal. Having found his niche in local school administration, he had declined innumerable promotions to more prestigious positions. A touch of gray in his thick brown hair and the beginnings of "love handles" around the waist did not detract from the charm and appeal of the man with the laughing blue eyes. She would continue to study this man, to assess his demeanor and leadership techniques in the event she had any need to disable him....

Luke distributed a packet of bulletins, briefs and a draft of the faculty handbook, suggesting that instead of reading through the material in this meeting, Team members should field impromptu questions to assess his approach, his philosophy and his ideas for school improvement. To a person, the Team was amazed and enthralled by the skills and insight of the man who was to be their new leader. He remembered to thank and praise Lucinda Switzer and the volunteers who had prepared breakfast.

By mid-morning, Valley telephones were abuzz with two topics: the arrival of the new high school principal and the suicide-death of an elementary school science teacher.

Following a late morning press conference with the Superintendent and a sandwich with two students he met at the local drive-in, Luke Allen spent the afternoon with his three assistants and MayEllen Workman, mapping a schedule for the 4-week period before classes began: a watermelon party for student leaders, a cookout for fall athletes, meetings with the athletic director and coaches, completing student and faculty class schedules, maintenance and cleaning schedules, textbook distribution, small group and combined meetings with booster clubs and parent organizations, budget processes, filling two vacancies, updates to the faculty and student handbooks and an open house for the staff and their families.

Ginny called. The movers were gone and she was preparing dinner. Luke Allen left for home, not stopping to read his messages or the cards attached to the flowers that filled the receptionist's office.

••••

She and Rusty were standing on the porch as he pulled into the drive. Rusty bolted toward him and jumped to Luke's chest. "Down, boy," Luke commanded and knelt to tousle the dog's ears. Rusty bounced and barked with pleasure as Luke stood to embrace the woman he loved more than anything in this world. "Missed you," he said. "Next time we'll travel together."

"That bad?"

"No, I just missed you," he muttered in her hair. They had vowed to grow old together, and to never lose the spark that had been so critical to their relationship. It had been more than her wit or the flashing green eyes. She was a pretty woman whose beauty radiated from within. It was her feistiness, her gentleness. He led her to the porch, lifted her into his arms and carried her inside the cabin.

Ginny had described their lovemaking as methodically passionate. "It is because we focus on each other and love so deeply," she had reasoned. Scarcely inside the door and with Rusty whimpering to enter, he lowered her from his arms. They began to undress each other, exchanging wanton kisses, gently touching the secret pleasure zones only they knew. Lost in the familiarity of each other's body, they swayed against the smooth, hand-hewn logs and slid to the rug below.

••••

"So much for methodical," Ginny sighed, lying on his arm. "Hope the Welcome Wagon does not deliver after six."

" Remind me to get extra padding for this rug." Luke groaned in mock discomfort and nuzzled a sensitive zone on the back of her neck.

"Old men should not start something they can't finish." She squirmed teasingly against him, then allowed the sensation from the back of her neck to flow through her body.

"Come take a bath with me," she whispered.

"What about our clothes?" He pulled a shirt and bra from under his back.

"The cleaning lady will get them."

"Luke, take your other shoe and sock off."

He chuckled at his own image, a middle-aged nude man hobbling on one bare foot, struggling to remove the shoe and sock from the other. Visions of someone standing at the door with a fruit basket -- witnessing their scattered clothes and passion flashed through his mind.... He knew she was smiling at him, with him. He wanted to tell her that he didn't care who saw them, that he would hobble after her anywhere, that his love for her had grown stronger with time ..... that after twenty-four years of marriage, she still made each moment seem like the first ..... that every time he looked at her or thought of her, his heart raced.... He would tell her later....

They slipped into the warm bath she had prepared. He reached for a candle. "No," she said. "Just silence." Lying against his shoulder, she listened as his breathing relaxed, then slowed to the soft hiss of sleep. She gently kissed his neck, his face, his eyes, allowing her body to float above his as her caresses awakened him.

Later they lay in bed and talked quietly. He told her about the Board meeting, the Superintendent's anger, his meeting with the Leadership Team and the planning session with his assistants. It's too early yet, he had told her, but he sensed that the seething monsters he had been hired to tame were about to rear their heads.... His words became cryptic slurs as he drifted to sleep in her arms. Anger... law suits.... Celia Norman..... drunks... claymores... counselors... coaches .... funding..... valley... transcript....

 


Posted at 09:47 am by Gull
Comments (7)  




 
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Few Cities Say It Better --

Welcome, 2007!!!


Posted at 04:17 pm by Gull
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Saturday, December 30, 2006
Chapter 8

They stayed in bed until after eight. Ginny read the morning newspaper while Luke browsed through five years of athletic budgets. "Anything noteworthy?" She asked.

"How noteworthy is the purchase of $75,000 in new equipment during the last five years that I am asked to replace as new this year?"

"Noteworthy, I would say."

They showered, dressed and stopped at a drive-through to pick up breakfast before leaving the Valley. The drive north toward Seattle was splendid. They located the Hardware Outlet that Wayne Bosman had described and spent two hours perusing wallpaper, paint samples, light fixtures, gas logs and decking lumber before ambling over to windows. The Outlet did not stock the prefab dormers, but the clerk informed them that they were made by a small company in Balsam Valley. They assumed it was Dawn's construction company.....

"If the weather is as unpredictable as Dawn suggested, we might need to invest in a generator. See what she recommends Monday."

"Dr. Allen?"

They turned as Wayne Boseman and his wife approached. "I recognized you from your picture in the paper. I'm Wayne Bosman." Wayne Bosman extended an unsteady hand. "This is my wife Marie."

"Luke and Ginny Allen. Good to meet you." The eyes of the woman clutching Wayne Bosman's arm brimmed with tears.

"Pardon our anxiety. We don't go out much any more." Beads of perspiration stood on Wayne Bosman's forehead. "There is small restaurant called Cloe's three exits up. Turn to the left. It's on the right about four miles out."

"We'll meet you there." Wayne Bosman put his arm around his wife as they walked away.

"Those two sad people are very frightened, Luke. How are you possibly going to help them?"

"I don't know."

••••

"Let's take a table on the deck out back," Luke suggested. "This view is something else..." Wayne and Marie Bosman were holding hands; two people together, against the world. "I should prepare you, Marie. Ginny will want to walk down to the lake." The restaurant sat on the crest of a mountain and overlooked a glistening pond surrounded by beds of radiant flowers.

Marie smiled weakly. "Wayne and I love the out-of-doors. Wayne built a small pond on our property several years ago."

"Damn dam still leaks, Luke. You know anything about dams?" Wayne Bosman appeared to be relaxing.

"No, but when we clear a pasture behind the cabin, I'll try my hand at damming the creek that runs on the back side of the property."

Wayne Bosman nodded. "Maybe by then I can offer to help you." He gazed at the lake. "I apologize. Sometimes it is hard for either of us to focus. Our doctors tell us we both suffer from a depression similar to post-traumatic shock. We will recover, we are told." He exchanged a warm smile with his wife. "Fortunately, one of us is able to fight the depression off long enough to support the other." Luke understood too well. He credited Ginny with pulling him from the depression that had controlled his life after Vietnam ... It was Ginny who had held him through the nightmares .... It was Ginny who had convinced him that there was no dishonor in accepting the therapy and medications that helped him regain control of his life ....

"You owe us no apology. Let's order drinks and walk down to the lake. Ginny is not going to be happy until she finds out what you know about area wildflowers, Marie."

"Don't get her started, Ginny. I met Marie in a flower shop, fell in love with her in a flower garden, married her under a floral awning and she has spent the last thirty years pruning and nurturing me into what I am...." Wayne Bosman's voice dropped. "...Or what I was."

Marie corrected her husband with a loving slap to his hand. "What you are and will always be."

"Come, Ginny, let's walk down to the lake. Let these men tag along if they want."

Luke let Wayne Bosman set the pace as they followed their wives down the path.

"What are you putting in that pasture, Luke?"

"A couple of horses is all."

Wayne chuckled. "The only thing I ever learned to ride was a golf cart. You play golf, Luke?"

"I am a fair duffer. Ginny and I used to play regularly."

"Marie and I will invite you to play with us, once this situation is cleared up with the Board."

"We would like that. You and I will have to keep score, though." He gestured toward Ginny and Marie. "Those two will be more interested in how the course is landscaped."

••••

With lunch concluded, Wayne Bosman's demeanor changed. "You two have made us feel very comfortable. I wish we could have met under different circumstances."

"Regardless of the circumstances, Wayne, Ginny and I look forward to seeing the two of you again."

"You bring your recorder, Luke?" Luke removed the recorder from his jacket. "This is not easy, for me or Marie, but I need your help." Luke turned on the recorder and placed it on the table in front of Wayne Bosman.

••••

My name is Wayne Bosman. I am the former principal of Balsam High School. I am recording this tape in the presence of three witnesses.

On May 28 of this year, I was placed on administrative leave with pay by the Balsam Valley Board of Education because I refused to resign or accept early retirement from my position as principal. To avoid an inevitable law suit and criminal prosecutions against several staff members, the Board declined to formally remove me. It was the Board's position that their attorney would enter negotiations with my attorney to offer me a cash incentive to resign or retire. To date, I have declined any settlement offers from the Board of Education. Furthermore, during the past year, I declined specific payoffs from the Superintendent and the Athletic Director. Because of my refusal to accept these payoffs, my life has been threatened, my property has been vandalized, my wife has been harassed by telephone calls and letters and my professional reputation has been slandered by false rumors and allegations. School records for which I was responsible were deliberately altered in an attempt to discredit me. Our home has been vandalized, my wife and I have received innumerable threats. Our children have received letters.... I believe that no physical harm has come to us because I possess evidence of criminal misconduct by several persons employed by the Board of Education.

Approximately one year ago, I discovered irregularities in school records, school resources and in the handling of athletic department funds. I investigated these irregularities and reported my findings to Superintendent Cleve Combs. Irregularities included the falsification of student transcripts, the falsification of a teacher's certification, the dumping of hazardous materials in the local landfill, the flagrant use of an illegal athlete and the theft of several thousand dollars from the athletic program. There are other situations that my attorney and I are investigating.

I will discuss these irregularities separately. My attorney and two confidential sources possess copies of records and receipts to document the irregularities listed above. In addition, they possess records and affidavits to identify the individuals who deliberately falsified school records to slander my name....

Wayne Bosman's voice broke.

Luke reached across the table and turned the recorder off. "You don't have to go through this. Tell me how I can help you." Luke removed a pen and notepad from his pocket. Wayne Bosman hesitated, turned the recorder on again and continued.

"I need to know the exact date of delivery for a supply of G-P bond copier paper. It may have been delivered in late May or early June. I also need several sheets of this paper plus one unopened ream of this paper."

"That is public information. I can do that."

"I need the dates and itemization of each deposit made to the Athletic fund last year."

"That's public information. I can provide that."

"I need a copy of the SCIDS access report for the school year."

"That should be public information. I'll get it for you."

"I need copies of or the original classroom teacher's grade books and final transcripts for Julian R. Gomez, Denise Mayburn Osborne, Richard Haven Dunn, Mica Renee Yates. There may be others, but those are all we have right now."

"You know I can't give you that information. The student or a parent can request it, but you'll have to subpoena it."

"I know. My concern is that if certain people know I need that information, it will disappear."

Luke nodded in agreement. "If these students are in college, remember that a preliminary transcript is sent with the application and a final transcript is sent to the college after the student graduates. If you are looking for evidence of transcript fraud, multiple subpoenas delivered concurrently would avert any possible manipulation of the evidence......"

"I need a copy of the transfer records, transcript, attendance records, athletic participation form and any other information available on James Chad Mason."

"You will have to subpoena that information as well, Wayne."

"I need a copy of the rank in class for last year's junior and senior classes."

Luke hesitated. "I'll research that request. What I can tell you is how many were in the class and the minimum percentile rank for academic recognition. If you knew a student's actual rank, you would be able to determine whether the student qualified for an honor."

"How can I help you, Luke?"

Luke sighed deeply. "Who can I turn to if I find myself where you are, Wayne?"

"I don't know. The State Department of Public Schools turned its back on me. They knew what was going on, but remained quiet because of the scandal and the astronomical liability and legal fees they would have to pay if everything went public."

"What will happen when your law suit is filed?"

"The State Department will definitely be involved. They will not want my evidence to go public, I promise you."

"What do I need to watch for?"

It was Wayne's turn to sigh. "Watch Combs. He will undermine and discredit you with your faculty. He and the Board had a major falling out because he wanted to hire his cousin as principal; the Board and the search committee wanted you. He tried his best to find something in your background to keep you out. He could not find anything; watch for him to create something."

"Watch for Switzer and her corps of groupies. They are thicker than thieves and have access to all the school records. Switzer and Devron are the ones who have been altering student records. For years they were paid by parents to do it. In recent years, they do it for spite. My suggestion is to keep your faculty involved and aware of what you want to do. Include as many of them on committees and in planning activities as you can. Don't pull any surprises. Hold faculty meetings regularly and sit in on departmental meetings. Involve the community and parents quickly -- attend meetings. Don't trust your your assistants until they prove their colors. Two of them are in thick with Combs. He owns them."

"Watch your coaches. Three of them have been pocketing or distributing close to $65,000 a year in gate receipts. They can buy or intimidate people to do anything they want. They can buy abortions for their key players and young-buck assistants, get jobs for their friends, hire and fire who they want. I'm waiting to see when the story behind that suicide comes out."

"The elementary teacher who committed suicide? Did he coach?"

"No. He was an exceptional teacher, a fine young man. Combs needed an elementary science position for the son of a friend, so he told the science teacher a student had accused him of molesting her. Instead of resigning, the young man committed suicide. Combs has not named a replacement yet; he'll wait until the rumors die down. You'll get a swim coach before school starts; he'll be given the vacant science position at the elementary school."

Luke felt as if he was going to be sick. "Why was Ken Holmes removed as baseball coach last year?"

"Starnes, Switzer and Lipman were responsible for that. Lucie-Moosie was upset because Ken put a pinch hitter in for her son in the state playoffs. Starnes and Lipman were upset because Ken questioned the eligibility of the Mason kid. Rather than creating a turmoil which could bring out the truth about the Mason kid's ineligibility, Combs offered to pay for Ken's degree and give him an assistant principalship if he would not contest his removal as baseball coach. Seems as if Combs and Switzer also came up with some documents which made the Mason kid look eligible."

"Why does the school not have a fire alarm system?"

"Combs tried to avoid paying the hazardous waste disposal fee by sneaking asbestos shingles into the county dump. Someone reported it. To raise funds for the disposal fee, he had to halt all capital outlay projects. He has been robbing one project to pay for another so long that half the projects in the district are incomplete."

"Why has our water quality degraded?"

"Combs and his maintenance crew get kickbacks on supplies purchased locally. Suppliers substitute substandard products that fail to carry the load or do the job. The joke among local contractors is that if the school district is digging a hole, make sure you're not in it."

"How does Combs keep his job?"

"Payoffs. He keeps markers for squelching court records, misconduct by teachers and administrators, transcript changes, jobs, renewal credits, and dirty laundry. His control reaches well beyond the Valley. If he can't buy you, he intimidates you with threats and rumors. The trailer park across from the stadium is owned by a current Board member. When the irrigation system was installed in the stadium and on the practice field, a water line was also run to the trailer park, courtesy of Balsam High School."

"What else do I need to watch for, Wayne?"

"Two things. If you can, protect students from harassment and intimidation. Some tried to talk to me, but they were hushed up. There is a sickness there, Luke. It is centered in the athletic department and supported by the Superintendent. They abuse students, sexually, mentally and physically. I tried to stop it, but I had no support. When I tried to contact the sheriff, he talked to the Superintendent. I called in the State Intelligence Agency and they went to the Sheriff...."

"What is the second thing I need to watch for?"

"A job opening in another school district, far away from Balsam Valley."

••••

During Wayne Bosman's testimony, both Marie and Ginny maintained physical contact with their husbands. When hands were withdrawn to gesture, they touched their husbands arms or shoulders. Ginny's arm finally moved to rest on the back of Luke's chair. When she sensed him tense, she gently caressed his shoulder. Marie Bosman turned her head toward the lake each time her eyes welled with tears. Ginny had intuitively recognized the torment she saw in Marie's eyes when they first met this morning. Now she knew the depth of the anguish Marie Bosman shared with the man she loved.

••••

"I don't want this happening to you or to us, Luke."

"It won't." He wanted to stop the car, hold her closely and assure her it would not happen to them. "Do you want to leave the Valley?"

"I want to be with you, by your side, supporting you in every decision you make." He drove into a picnic area, led her by the hand to a secluded table and held her closely. They talked of his resolve and their commitment to share the burdens he would face.

"I will say this only once, Luke. We can live very comfortably for the rest of our lives on your retirement and my royalties. I trust you to tell me when you feel you are losing control; I reserve the right to tell you when I feel you are losing control. I love you; your welfare is all that matters to me."

"I love you, Ginny. You are more important to me than anything in my life --."

"Why don't we get married?" It was one of her out-of-the-blue, off-the-wall comments that brought him from melancholy to maddening laughter.

He shook his head. "You are nuts -- totally impossible." In one motion he picked her up, slung her over his shoulder and struggled up the path toward the car.

"What if the parents who buy YOUR books for THEIR children knew what you put me through?" he puffed up the slope.

"You-u-u are breaking my-y-y ribs-s-s. What are you-u-u-u planning to do-o-o with me-e-e?"

"I'm going to take you home, sober you up, show you our marriage certificate and then take you to a cook-out hosted by Cleve Combs." He deposited her gently into the front seat of the car.

She draped her arms around his neck and returned his kiss. "Wanna climb into the back for a quick rumble?"

" Nahhh .... better not. Somebody might see us. You don't want me to lose my job, do you?"

 


Posted at 11:26 pm by Gull
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He Said, "Muqtada." Dammit ---

Way to go, MSM-America online. 

Relegating live broadcasts of eulogies and prayer services for President Gerald Ford to a sub-link, AOL-CBS gives the death of Saddam Hussein top billing ------ with a full-blown life-scape post and polls to go with the photos. 

Plus they misquote Saddam Hussein's last word (not words).  He said, "Muqtada," not allah is god or great or whatever.  He said those allah- things prior to stepping into the drop-box.  At least that is what a witness has testified. 

Does it actually matter what Hussein said?  Not really, but at least the omnipotent self-decreed news-meisters should GET IT RIGHT once in a while.

So who/what is Muqtada? 

Muqtada al-Sadr .... He's a Shiite upstart cleric thorn-in-the-side of the Iraqi government who hails from Sadr City.  His band of young rowdies actually controls the city.  And he doesn't want ANY foreigners in Iraq.  None.  Zilch. Saddam Hussein killed his father several years ago.  But that's another story, too. 

Several bodyguards/witnesses referenced "Muqtada al-Sadr" as Saddam stepped to the gallows.  Too bad someone didn't also mention the names of the thousands of other Iraqis Saddam killed.  The drop to his death would have been literally lined with the memories of those who paved his descent.             May they rest in peace as Saddam burns in hell.

 


Posted at 03:05 pm by Gull
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Chapter 6

Luke entered the equipment room where Ray Starnes was sorting football jerseys. "You know about the tests we are running on the water system?"

"Dr. Combs told me."

"What's the schedule for practice tomorrow?"

"Volleyball and football begin two-a-day practices in the morning."

"Notify all the coaches that students should not shower until line work and tests are completed. Water containers are being delivered this afternoon. Before you leave today, empty the ice machines, turn them off, disinfect them and ask each coach to pick up enough ice for his practices for the next couple of days. I set up an open purchase order for ice at the grocery store. Make this a low key announcement. There is no indication that the water supply is contaminated, by the way. The last thing we need is a rumor that is totally unfounded."

"I'll take care of that."

"Do we need to discuss the athletic budget?"

Starnes tossed a jersey into a pile that lay near Luke's feet. "Maybe you should look it over and let me know if you have questions. It is pretty basic."

Luke followed the athletic director toward his office, stopping at a door marked "Conditioning."

"I have not seen this room." Ray Starnes shuffled through a chain of keys and unlocked the door. As the florescent lights flickered on, Luke saw a conditioning room comparable to most college programs.

"This is amazing. There must be several thousand dollars in equipment in here."

"Yep. The community raised money for this room after consolidation in the 1980's. The problem is, most of this equipment needs to be upgraded or replaced."

"Does the budget include funds for what you need?"

"No. We had hoped to sell this and start over with new equipment."

"How do you propose to do that?"

"We have a buyer lined up. He is waiting to bring you a check, if you approve."

"This appears to be a done deal. Why do you need my permission?"

"Dr. Combs said it was up to you."

"What's involved?"

"We have approximately $45,000 in original equipment. Estimates for repairs and upgrades range between $12-15,000. We can sell it for $10,000 and buy a few pieces of more modern equipment."

"Who was involved in making the decision?"

"Dr. Combs, me and a couple of coaches."

"Let me look over the budget. I'll have a response for you the first of the week. What's the current market value of this equipment, by the way?"

"Maybe $100,000 or better, if it was repaired."

"What if we found the money to upgrade what you want and then bought new equipment as we raised the money?"

"Coach Lipman wants the new equipment now."

"Are his requests in the budget?"

"Yes." Coach Starnes hesitated. "I wanted to give you one of our football jackets, but we don't have your size right now. I'll order it this week. You want one for your wife?"

"Sure. Be certain I get a bill for the jackets."

•••

"My wife and I are driving up to Renton Saturday morning. We're looking for wall paper and windows for some work we're doing on the cabin."

"What if my wife and I meet you around noon in a building supply center I can recommend?"

"Sounds good. You may also choose a place for lunch."

"Take 405 north to exit 15. You will see the lumber yard on the right. The wife and I will meet you there. Bring your tape recorder, Dr. Allen."

•••

Ginny brought dinner to the school at six o'clock. She helped Mrs. Workman collate information for the Boosters' meeting while Luke worked with Ken Holmes on a campus maintenance schedule.

"I don't mind doing this occasionally," she told him, "but you need to get away for meals, hon." He had not disagreed with her, but explained that it had been a challenging day.

He had forwarded the water test results to the Superintendent. County maintenance personnel were flushing the lines tonight to remove sediment. Three sections of water lines were to be replaced as soon as possible to avert possible ground water contamination.

Darrell Thorton had moved quickly with the guidance center project. Renovations would be completed in three to four days by Carpentry III students and their teacher, Dan Sorenson, who was employed to do maintenance for the schools during the summer. Building materials were estimated at $800. Student Council members had volunteered to paint the new offices. Darrell had requisitioned four computers from the central warehouse and submitted purchase orders for a hub terminal to network computers within the guidance office.

"Contact the vendor who has our computer maintenance contract. We can designate one computer as the host," Luke suggested. "We'll download weekly and quarterly data to the host computer and route data to the other computers. I want to talk with the technician before he does any work, however."

•••

Over 800 parents crowded into the auditorium at the first "open house" for athletics, band, chorus, and academic boosters' clubs. Luke announced a monthly calendar and newsletter to enable groups to coordinate activities. He invited officers of each club to meet monthly to discuss mutual projects and concerns. Parents applauded frequently during a thirty-minute "talking tour" video of the campus, students, staff, projects and the philosophy that would be initiated in Luke Allen's first year as principal.

•••

"Ahhhhhh.... what do I see here?" Ginny stopped washing his hair to peer closely at his graying sideburns. "Three new ones today."

"A sign of distinction and maturity," Luke muttered. "My badge of courage."

"How about that thinning spot on the back of your head?"

"Where?" Luke sat up in the tub to examine his hair. "Where?"

"It could be months before anyone notices."

"You are joking, right? Show it to me." He feigned alarm as she guided his hand through the thickness of his hair.

"Hair is the third to go, you know."

"The third?? What the heck are first and second?" She pretended to resist as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the tub.

•••

Mrs. Workman handed Luke a five-year summary of athletic department budgets and his schedule of appointments. "Don't even think about sitting down today," she advised. "The phone has been ringing off the hook since I arrived. Parents were obviously impressed with the open house last night. The florists are calling about deliveries." She did not give him time to respond.

"Lean in the corner and drink your coffee while I do something I never do in the office -- gossip."

"Am I being transferred?" Luke feigned alarm.

"This is serious, Dr. Allen." He sipped his coffee. "I need assistance here in the office." Luke grunted in agreement. "Rumor has it that a young secretary at the Board of Education office is getting too close to an administrator and they are looking to transfer her. She is competent, I am told, but is -- how do I say it -- susceptible to advances from inquiring men."

"You said it very well."

Mrs. Workman continued. "If you were to accept her, I would supervise and monitor her conduct here in the office."

"Say no more. I have some reliable gossip for you." Luke opened his briefcase and handed her a recent memo from the State Department of Public Schools. "A school our size is eligible to receive three additional clerical positions effective August 15. How does that sound?"

"Glory be. You may sit to drink the rest of your coffee. A technician from the telephone exchange will be here this morning." Two telephones began to ring simultaneously. "Now shoo so I can answer your calls."

"Call the Superintendent's secretary and ask for the protocol on recruiting, transfers, and posting for these new positions."

•••

Telephone technician Joe Franks opened an unlocked panel located in the hallway between the assistant principal's offices. "I have been telling your staff for two years this needs to be locked, Dr. Allen. I have a lockable panel I can install today."

"Do it."

"You have two bundles carrying a capacity of eight lines each. You are using 13 bundled lines plus two private lines."

"Can you break the lines down by buildings?"

"Sure. I'm the only tech assigned to your school. I know it by heart."

Luke asked Mrs. Workman to assist with identifying phone numbers and departments served.

"In this building, you have the three main lines plus one single and five private lines."

Mrs. Workman identified the lines. "The single is your private line, guidance and media have private lines. Media also has one dedicated line and the Superintendent pays for the second private line into the media center. The line into the computer center is a dedicated line that I also use for transferring the financial reports to SDPI."

Franks examined the board carefully. "That must be the line that is split to the guidance office, the media center and to your office, Mrs. Workman."

"Disconnect the splits to media and guidance; run Mrs. Workman's split to my office. Pull the disconnects back into the line feed until we decide to activate them later."

"OK. The main lines plus one private line run to the gym. The Athletic Director has a private line and each coach's office has access to the three main lines."

"Athletic Boosters pay for the athletic director's private line," Mrs. Workman clarified.

"There are five lines to the math-science building. Three main lines plus two private lines."

"The private lines are for computer labs," she explained.

"Vocational has three main lines plus three private."

"There are two computer lab lines and a third line for the work-study program."

"There are six dedicated lines in the school, then?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Franks, install one dedicated line into my office and one into Mrs. Workman's. Mrs. Workman, move the school fax into your office to run from this new line that you will now use to transfer the monthly financial report. Can you give Mrs. Workman a list of all the numbers within the school?"

"Sure. I'll have to climb the poles to get the others."

"What do you mean?"

"You have three local lines into the school that are not routed through this system."

"Where do they go?"

"One goes to guidance, one to Mrs. Norman's office and the third goes to the gym."

"Isn't that a little strange?" Luke asked.

"They were installed before I was transferred here, Dr. Allen. And yes, that is a little strange."

•••

"Mr. Morton is here to see you."

"Give me a hint."

"He's the district maintenance supervisor. He has been on vacation and wants to introduce himself."

Luke tucked the list of telephone numbers and the panel keys into his wallet and went into the lobby to greet the school district's maintenance supervisor.

"Welcome to Balsam Valley. Sorry I was not here when you first arrived."

"I understand you've been vacationing this month. Welcome home."

"I have a place on the coast my doctor recommends that I visit as often as possible." He laughed at himself. "It is a little far for a weekend trip, so I try to use my vacation days before the sick days kick in, if you know what I mean."

Luke nodded, assuming that the Maintenance Director was not well. "Come in." Leon Morton followed Luke into his office.

"Dr. Combs asked me to touch base with you on a few projects that need to be scheduled."

"You heard about the water lines that need to be replaced, I guess."

"Yes. We'll get to that as soon as possible. There're a couple of other projects that are top priority. We have to close this building for a few days to remove the asbestos shingles on the roof. We'll finish paving the upper parking lot while this side of the campus is closed."

"How many days are we talking about?"

"Three max."

"Good. I'll give the staff some needed vacation. They've been working over-time for the past couple of weeks."

"Good idea. We'll start next Wednesday morning and re-open the building on Monday."

"Very well. I'll set up a temporary office in the math-science building. By the way, the contractor who began the fire alarm installation will be here this afternoon. You are welcome to join us."

"I'm pretty busy. Get me an estimate as soon as possible. I'm as anxious as anyone to see that project finished."

•••

Celia Norman spent four hours with contractors as they inspected fire alarm lines and terminals throughout the campus. "Good news and bad news," she reported. "Which do you want first?"

"The bad news."

"We need to replace eight stations, install an upgraded control box, add two terminals in the concession stand and install a dedicated phone line."

"The good news?"

"The system seems intact. They will be able to check some connections only after full installation."

"Estimate?"

"$4,000 to $6000, depending upon the condition of existing lines."

"Got it in writing?"

"Yes. They can start next week. It should take approximately two days."

"Prepare a memo for my signature with copies to the Superintendent and the Director of Maintenance. Tell the contractor to be ready to start on one day's notice. Good job, Celia."

Celia smiled. "The contractor has a team on stand-by. The memo is already written. Sign it and I'll hand-carry it to the Superintendent."

•••

Luke dialed the Superintendent's office and was surprised that Cleve Combs accepted his call.

"I wanted to update you on the status of some of our projects."

"Things going well?"

"Yes, thanks. Mrs. Norman is hand-carrying the estimate for the fire alarm system. It seems reasonable and the contractor can get to work on it immediately."

"Our problem is frozen funds. It will be two to three months before any money is available, unless they will do it on ninety-day billing."

Luke knew that was not a viable option with public school funds. "What if I use school funds and you re-imburse the school when funds are available."

"Sounds like a good solution."

"I will fax you a request. You can sign it and have Mrs. Norman hand-carry it back to me." Luke scribbled a memo and motioned to Mrs. Workman to come into his office.

"You don't trust me?"

"Just following standard fiscal procedures." Luke laughed convincingly. "Capital outlay expenditures in excess of $5,000 require the Superintendent's approval. And I want it in writing that the school will be re-imbursed when our local funds are released." The Superintendent did not respond.

"I'll set up a temporary office in the math-science building while the asbestos is removed next week. I also want to give the staff some comp time. They've been going day and night."

"The water test results arrived. We will get those new lines in before winter. What about your athletic budget?"

"I will study it this weekend."

"I talked with Tom about the changes in the guidance center. You are off on the right foot there. Keep my sister and her cronies happy and you'll do well." Luke wanted to ask who her cronies were, but didn't.

"I am sending out a memo on the clerical allotments. You're due for two, according to the formula. Applicants will apply directly at the local school. Just follow the interview policy."

"Two? I thought we were due three."

"Don't be greedy. I have to spread them around."

"I need three."

"We might work something out. I have a secretary I need to transfer and she cannot be placed in just any situation. The only place she wants to work is at the high school."

"Give us the three slots we qualify for and I'll accept the secretary you want to transfer."

"It's a matter of money. If I can entice her with summer employment, it's a done deal."

"Check your fax. My memo should be there."

"I'm not such an SOB, now, am I, Dr. Allen?"

Luke hesitated, then laughed. "Have a good day, Dr. Combs."

•••

Upon Celia Norman's return with the Superintendent's memo, Luke called Mrs. Workman, the assistant principals and the custodial staff to his office.

"We have approval to complete the fire alarm system. Celia will ask contractors to begin as soon as possible. We'll use school funds to pay for the work and be re-imbursed when our local capital outlay funds are released."

"Water lines have been flushed and at least three sections will be replaced before winter. There was no evidence of contamination, by the way. Jess, turn on all fountains after they are disinfected. You might also remind Coach Starnes to turn the ice machines on."

"The Superintendent informed me that we are receiving at least three clerical positions effective August 15. I suggest that we use these slots accordingly: the three administrators and athletic director will share one secretary, guidance and Mrs. Masters will share one, we can use one slot as a receptionist-clerk here in the administrative office and if a fourth slot were to be available, we will use that position to assist Mrs. Workman. Jess, the receptionist-clerk will assist you and your staff with orders you need to process. I need one of you to coordinate interviews and to set up an interview committee of five plus me."

Celia Norman raised her hand. "I will, if no one else is interested."

"You got it, Celia. I will send you info as I receive it from the Superintendent's office. Now -- good news and bad news. Good news first.... Asbestos shingles will be removed from the roof of this building next week and the upper student parking lot will be paved."

"The bad news is that we're the ones removing the asbestos?" Ken quipped.

"How did you guess? No -- the bad news is that this building and section of the campus will be closed Wednesday until the following Monday. I will set up a temporary office in the math-science building, but you each have the option of taking comp time for the over-time you have been putting in."

"What if we want to work?" It was Jess who asked. "It's hard enough to finish the summer cleaning schedule when the buildings are open."

"You'll have to move the supplies and equipment you need out of this building and into one of the other buildings."

"Our floors never get to seal long enough to hold a shine. What if we work the floors in this building Tuesday night and let them seal until Monday? We can take Wednesday off."

"That's your decision, Jess. Talk with your staff and let Mrs. Workman know your schedule."

"I have a general question that maybe you can help me with," Luke began. "Why is it that every time I attempt to inform the Superintendent about the status of school projects, he already knows about them?"

No one responded. Celia and Darrell glanced at each other nervously.

"Just something I wondered about. No problems with it. Anything else?"

"I won't be able to attend the coach's dinner meeting tonight," Ken announced.

"You'll miss a good meal, Ken."

•••

"I need to talk with Tom Franks, Mrs. Workman. Will you contact him for me, please?"

"Yes. And count on me to work next week."

"Maybe one day, Mrs. Workman. This might be a good time for you to help Ginny with an herb and wildflower garden. She also wants to know your secret for keeping Rusty from digging up the flower beds."

 


Posted at 11:25 am by Gull
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The Nifong Nexus

.... Links to past memories ....

I've been posting random chapters to a novel that I wrote several years ago.  This fictionalized account was written as a catharsis for my experiences with the malfeasance that was the modus operandi of a educational system and it's supportive network of judicial, legal and administrative good ole boyz and girlz ....

There is likely no way I will ever recoup the 1.2 million dollars I lost in liquidating everything I owned to hire my own attorney.  Hence, the best I will ever be able to claim is that while winning the battle, I may have lost the war -- but I left the legal battlefield with my dignity intact.   

The Nifong scenario in Durham, NC is likely the reason my memories have been stirred. 

In this rekindling of memories, I've reminded myself again that, in retrospect -- losing everything, living out of a car, starting over, learning who true friends are, etc. -- may have been worth salvaging my own self-worth.

The Duke defendants are much younger than I was in my crisis.  Possibly they will not experience the full impact of the pangs of outrageous fortune.  But then, I chose to confront my accusers.  Others are confronting their accusers on their behalf ....

God-speed, young defendants.

If you are indeed innocent of the charges, show no mercy in reclaiming your self-worth. 

Resources:

The Right Coast
Durham Wonderland
The Academy ....
Poisoned Campus Culture
The Duke Rape Case

 


Posted at 09:13 am by Gull
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Wednesday, December 27, 2006
So Much for Resolutions --

Resolutions for the New Year haven't worked for me in several years.  Not sure why.  Let's just call them what they are -- wishes, hopes, goals, strategies, pie-in-the-sky dreams, declarations, aspirations, shoulda-oughtas, wants .....  Sometimes it's easier to declare what I don't want.

Like ...
I don't want to continue carrying these extra pounds.  Much less gain more.
I don't want Dawg to be pained by arthritis.  This is top of the list, btw.
I don't want my work to pile up on my desk.
I don't want to leave laundry undone.
I don't want to ignore the vacuum cleaner, Pledge or filled-to-the-top garbage cans.
I don't want S.O. (significant other) to have to drive soooooo far to visit.  His foot is a tad too heavy and his vision is much worse than mine!
I don't want to continue working full-time ....
I don't want Hillary Clinton as my President.  Or John McCain, either.
I don't want President Bush to intervene militarily in Iraq's sectarian wars -- or do anything that detracts from the war against terrorism.
I don't want to see any more hollywood baby pix.
I don't want to see celebrity life-styles headlined as news.
I don't want to see T.O. catch any more passes.  Especially for Dallas.
I don't want North Carolina to win the National BB Championship.
I don't want my cable connection to go out again.
I don't want to have to replace my '93 Jeep Grande Cherokee.
I don't want to ask for too much. 

Dang it.  Guess I'll just hafta (except for the want for Dawg, of course) conjure up a few resolutions about these don't-wants.

Four days and counting ....

 


Posted at 11:56 am by Gull
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Perish the Thought!
Perish the Thought! Perish the Thought! Perish the Thought!