I have received several invitations on Facebook over the past few days inviting me to join a FB group that celebrates my hometown.
The group proclaims "We are proud of our hometown heroes."
Heroes my ass. This group is to show how proud residents are of Sheryl Crow, Trent Tomlinson and David Nail.
Yes, our small town has turned out what is probably an inordinate number of extremely talented musicians.
I have nothing against the three people mentioned. In fact, I admire and celebrate their musical talent. One, though I haven't seen him in several years, I still consider a good friend. Another has the most fabulous dad who was one of my most favorite teachers. He is truly talented and I am glad his talent is being rewarded. I still have vivid memories of him as a teenager bringing tears to my eyes with his acoustic rendition of Billy Dean's "Once in While" at First Baptist Church.
But, the use of the word heroes really bothers me and for that reason, I will not join this group.
I found an old post from the archives I recently recovered that I shows this is not a new feeling. I originally posted this August 22, 2004.
What's wrong with our country
I had an epiphany a few days ago.
Well, maybe not actually an epiphany because it is really no secret that our nation is way too obsessed with celebrities.
I guess it was more of a sad realization that even "small town USA" buys into the hype about how great the celebrity du jour is.
As we were approaching my hometown I saw the welcome sign in the distance. Just as I was getting that warm-fuzzy feeling of being back in the area that housed the memories of my childhood I was smacked with a new harsh reality. There was a new sign.
It proudly proclaimed "Welcome to Kennett." That part didn't bother me. It was the second line.
"Home Town of Sheryl Crow."
This is all my little hometown has to be proud of!?
They had replaced "Service Industry Agriculture" with a pop star!
I could have understood if there had been a small sign added proclaiming that the musician had been reared in the sleepy town, but to replace the town's livelihood with one former resident was just sad. Okay, so her parents and a brother still live there.
Seriously. I had tears in my eyes.
Kennett is home to the men and women of the 1137th MP company of the Missouri National Guard. They have been activated and deployed numerous times over the past decade or so. But, I guess that is not worthy of mention.
It is home to C.P. Bridges, recipient of two Purple Hearts and numerous other medals while serving as a gunner on the ACH-47. And, Larry Pritchard who lost a leg while serving his country in Vietnam along with many other men from the town.
It is also home to several World War II veterans like Herman Bone, recipient of five Bronze Stars, two Purple Hearts and a Silver Star. One of seven of his 141-man company which stormed the beach at Normandy on D-Day who lived to see the next day.
But, I guess that's nothing compared to winning 9 Grammy Awards.
They say "you can never go home again."
I don't know who they are, but with skewed adoration like that who really wants to?
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Remember
Remember when I said I was coming back to blogger where it all started? Well, I found the original blog!!! I forgot I owned a domain name before theikesters. Whooops. Fortunately, I do have all those files saved on one of our many drives. Maybe when I am an old, crotchy Colonel's wife and I decide to write my memoires I'll figure out which one.
The originial blog can be found here.
The originial blog can be found here.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
We are party people
Husband and I cannot be accused of not knowing how to have a fun evening. Perhaps interestting is a better word.
Kiddos down for bed. Husband or should I say Fellow since he was in study mode says "Hey, do you want to watch a biography on Hugo Chavez." The surprise here was the quickness with which I said "Sure!"
I took the stack of papers I was working on and the laptop and settled into my chair in the living room and waited. He walked through and asked what I was doing. "Huh? Didn't you just say we were watching something about Chavez?" "Oh,no. I've already seen it for class. I thought maybe you might want to see it. I put it in the DVD player in your office. Oh, but, I'll find something we can watch together."
I go back to flipping through the paperwork which was my humongous stack of medical files and a much smaller stack I needed to finish filling out for a doctor's appointment tomorrow.*
Call me crazy, but knowing what I was sorting through, the recorded, not yet watched Burn Notice might have been a good choice. Nope. Fellow chose the oh-so-uplifting Fail-Safe and tricked me into by asking if I wanted to watch a George Clooney movie with him.
Between stumbling across the report of and the memory of my friend Julie and her husband Nate saving my life and giving the Italian paramedics an earfull. Finding and reading the results of my two MRIs done at the Italian Cancer Center in Aviano. Gosh, what I'd love for just one sheet to say "Pt came in for follow-up appointment. Good to go."/
The combo of that and the movie left me in a somber place.
Fellow is no longer allowed to plan mommy-daddy time when mommy is already doing less than thrilling things.
*For those wondering, tomorrow's appointment is with the neurologist -FINALLY. The good news is I have already had a very thorough MRI scan done about a month ago. So, hopefully the doctor will be able to give me some sort of information since we have lots of data. And please or please, don't let him turn into Dr. Evil and demand a spinal tap.
And, for those who really care or have no life I intend to try to keep my head issues at OMG.
Kiddos down for bed. Husband or should I say Fellow since he was in study mode says "Hey, do you want to watch a biography on Hugo Chavez." The surprise here was the quickness with which I said "Sure!"
I took the stack of papers I was working on and the laptop and settled into my chair in the living room and waited. He walked through and asked what I was doing. "Huh? Didn't you just say we were watching something about Chavez?" "Oh,no. I've already seen it for class. I thought maybe you might want to see it. I put it in the DVD player in your office. Oh, but, I'll find something we can watch together."
I go back to flipping through the paperwork which was my humongous stack of medical files and a much smaller stack I needed to finish filling out for a doctor's appointment tomorrow.*
Call me crazy, but knowing what I was sorting through, the recorded, not yet watched Burn Notice might have been a good choice. Nope. Fellow chose the oh-so-uplifting Fail-Safe and tricked me into by asking if I wanted to watch a George Clooney movie with him.
Between stumbling across the report of and the memory of my friend Julie and her husband Nate saving my life and giving the Italian paramedics an earfull. Finding and reading the results of my two MRIs done at the Italian Cancer Center in Aviano. Gosh, what I'd love for just one sheet to say "Pt came in for follow-up appointment. Good to go."/
The combo of that and the movie left me in a somber place.
Fellow is no longer allowed to plan mommy-daddy time when mommy is already doing less than thrilling things.
*For those wondering, tomorrow's appointment is with the neurologist -FINALLY. The good news is I have already had a very thorough MRI scan done about a month ago. So, hopefully the doctor will be able to give me some sort of information since we have lots of data. And please or please, don't let him turn into Dr. Evil and demand a spinal tap.
And, for those who really care or have no life I intend to try to keep my head issues at OMG.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Getting antsy
Husband is the planner in the family. His lists have lists. The man lives for spreadsheets and flow charts and contigency plans.
Me? Yeah, not so much. I'm not into flow charts, but more of a go-with-the-flow kinda gal.
I don't know if he is starting to rub off on me, but I am chomping at the bit to get organized for our upcoming PCS. The problem is the Air Force just hasn't let us know yet where we are headed.
Where we are headed is rather important in my move prep. I have quite an assortment of cold-weather clothing for myself and the girls. If I start purging those bins the way my luck runs we'll get orders for Minot, Grand Forks or Siberia. If I seal them up and stash them out of the way to focus on other items, we'll end up headed to a hot, humid climate.
There is one category hanging over my head that is far more important than the clothing.
Liquor.
We stocked up on fabulous wines and liquores from Italy, Slovenia, Germany, France and Belguim. If we get sent back overseas we cannot ship our stash back over.
Fortunately, the planner in the family was wise enough to have only about one-third of our booty shipped to us here in Alabama. The rest is still being held by our "wine guy" in Italy.
So, there lies the dillema. What to focus on?
I suppose I could always combine the two. I can work on consuming copious amounts of my European treasures while sorting and purging clothing. It could lead to some interesting wardrobe choices. But that is okay. It's not as if people commenting on my clothing is anything new.
Me? Yeah, not so much. I'm not into flow charts, but more of a go-with-the-flow kinda gal.
I don't know if he is starting to rub off on me, but I am chomping at the bit to get organized for our upcoming PCS. The problem is the Air Force just hasn't let us know yet where we are headed.
Where we are headed is rather important in my move prep. I have quite an assortment of cold-weather clothing for myself and the girls. If I start purging those bins the way my luck runs we'll get orders for Minot, Grand Forks or Siberia. If I seal them up and stash them out of the way to focus on other items, we'll end up headed to a hot, humid climate.
There is one category hanging over my head that is far more important than the clothing.
Liquor.
We stocked up on fabulous wines and liquores from Italy, Slovenia, Germany, France and Belguim. If we get sent back overseas we cannot ship our stash back over.
Fortunately, the planner in the family was wise enough to have only about one-third of our booty shipped to us here in Alabama. The rest is still being held by our "wine guy" in Italy.
So, there lies the dillema. What to focus on?
I suppose I could always combine the two. I can work on consuming copious amounts of my European treasures while sorting and purging clothing. It could lead to some interesting wardrobe choices. But that is okay. It's not as if people commenting on my clothing is anything new.
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