Through all of these years you’ve been there right by my side. Early
on, I considered you a trusted friend, a confidant – through all sorts of experiences. You were present at my graduations, my weddings, and funerals, each and every major life-changing event I’ve ever known. Did you make things better? No! You put a fog over my eyes where I could not even recognize the importance of the event.
You’ve put to ruin each and every asset that I had been blessed with. Thanks to you, I can no longer hold down employment for any substantial length of time. More resources have been expended on your account in a matter of a few years than most people ever obtain in a lifetime. You’ve broken up relationships with the dearest of friends and my beloved family members, not to mention a couple of wives. You’ve downtrodden any form of quality of life for the pure sake of your want of power, control and your insatiable appetite for more and more dollars, only for a brief respite. You are the biggest of lies.
And I’m most certainly not the only victim of your curse.
You are the most destructive phenomenon in the history of this planet, far more dangerous than any of your cohorts, Henry Heroin, Cranston Crack, Marty Meth, and so on and so forth, mainly because you are condoned by society. It’s all about money and nothing else, pure capitalism. You used your influence to shit on the native Americans, keeping them so inebriated that they were handily coerced into signing over their sacred lands with the scrawl of an “x” on a flimsy bill of sale which was deemed adequate proof of agreement. And there was the Whiskey Rebellion over taxes imposed upon the evil sauce. Hell, you almost tore this country apart before it was even firmly established.
You are hereby discharged of your duties.
It’s been a real pleasure knowing you John, but it is most definitely high time for you to remove yourself from my presence forever.
You and “Spuds MacKenzie” can kiss my entire ass!
Stephen A. Dowell
Following the celebrated end to 2016, as evidenced by my previous post, I sank into a rut. A really deep one. I believe it was a combination of factors, but having a few days off for the Holidays after weeks of daily toil threw me off of my game. Especially when told that the end of the year is the “slow season” and to expect 12 hour days, 7 days a week from then on out! The Holiday season has been a tough time of the year for me anyway, as it has been for decades.
With the recent climactic World Series victory for the Cubs and the current record-setting season for the Cowboys which seems to point to another set of Super Bowl rings in Dallas, it appears that the sports gods are smiling down on my teams.
After having a year off, it looks as though a polar vortex will hit the Midwest once again!
The Chicago Cubs have made it to the World Series for the first time since 1945. It’s been since 1908 since they’ve won a World Series, but this is the Cubs year as they dominated the league all season long. If only Harry Caray could be around to witness this!
Being from Muncie, once labeled “Little Chicago” for the mobsters that would hang out there in the 1920s and 1830s due to it’s proximity to the “City of Big Shoulders” yet also because of its distance from it, I would visit the “Windy City” from time to time during the warmer months. It wasn’t until 1988, long after moving to Texas, that I experienced the winter months there.
Long before Fabio, the long-haired Italian who adorned the covers of pulp romance novels for years, there was Antonio Corsi – considered to be the world’s first male super-model.
Houston, Texas, is the 4th largest city in the United States and THE largest city in the south. My first encounter was in 1973 when Mom, Dad and I visited there as Dad interviewed for a Medical position. We spent several days at a hotel near the Medical Center, foreshadowing events fifteen years later.
Having just wrapped-up The Wright Brothers by one of my favorite authors, David McCullough, many parallels stood out between Orville, Wilbur and myself, as the movement of our family during my formative years followed the path of the Wright family.
First Flight – colorized photograph by John T. Daniels at Kitty Hawk in 1903, one of the most famous photos of all time.