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Sunday, January 30, 2011

PENTECOST and BROTHER BUDDY

Told from my perspective growing up in Pentecostal churches with emphasis placed on my father, everyone called Brother Buddy.

Poor, born in 1930...attended some grade school. His father and alcoholic, my Grandmother divorced after three children. The man she married I call my Grandfather.

This was during the depression and my Grandfather never attended school. My Dad refusing too, ended up in reform school. Mom and Dad married in 1947. Their first child died at the age of two. I was born in 1951, my brother in '50. My sister born in '55 died in '57. I have three younger siblings.

Buddy drank a lot, spending much of his time in bars, never keeping jobs, and money was scarce. A product of his upbringing. Having buried two children and a friend to suicide after the man shot his wife(my father shared the blame by driving the man to the scene of the shooting...can you imagine that everlasting image?).
Dad waited outside, hearing the shotgun blast too late...the burden he carried...wow!

We began services in a rural Pentecostal church where my Grandparents attended. Small, primitive...outdoor bathroom. We became regulars.

Dad held a job. Drinking stopped. A different man and financially the best I remember him. 
Pentecostal religion is very lively...singing, dancing and when the "spirit of the Lord" was with them, my Grandma would dance and shout "Hallelujah" and "praise the lord". Christians having a good time.
I observed wide-eyed but stayed close to mom. Little did I know this was mild in comparison to what lay ahead.

Sometimes prayer would become intense. "Speaking in tongues" often happened during these "spiritual highs". Not uncommonly someone start uttering an unknown language that only a handful of "men of God" are able to interpret, or so they believe.

Attending Pentecostal churches, ministers preached "Hell and Damnation"... to repent before God and be saved or face an everlasting hell. We started going to larger venues featuring traveling "evangelist" Oral Roberts along with many others whose names I have forgotten, in Indianapolis, Cincinnati and Louisville with worshipers from hundreds to a few thousand...theaters to tents.

The most popular and charismatic evangelist of that era was A. A. Allen. Preaching with fire, laying on of hands...he "cured" everyone. As this preacher worked the eager Christians, the offerings "Runneth Over".

Dad settled in at a new church, a preacher himself now and assistant pastor. One day while visiting my Grandparents, they asked Dad to join in prayer for a friend who was there. Nothing unusual. I went outside and Dad locked the door. Grandpa regularly recorded prayers and services, so he pushed "record".

After a length of time the prayer session turned devilish...called "casting out a demon". Verbally troubling...animal-like, hair-raising screams were coming from this person. A demon battling God's own for her soul. Roberts and Allen had spoken about demons. The unimaginable was there.

I heard this tape more than once. I suppose Grandpa thought he had captured something special. NO child should ever hear something like that. During the "casting out", the demon vowed to get the three "people of God".

"Brother Buddy' was never the same after that. Slowly backsliding to the man he once was...however mentally more troubled'
Buddy passed away at age 55, trying numerous times to regain his lost spirit, in vain. Was it "doubt or demon"that destroyed him?

Buddy was dealt a cruel hand. "Brother Buddy" rose above, through "faith".

Summary:
Do you believe what you see and hear? Do you believe in your parents and Grandparents? "OF COURSE" we trust them completely. Buddy, was challenged by lack of his real father's love and by life itself. He found a new father through the Pentecostal religion...feeling safe and wanted. He believed with all his heart. When evil challenged, he lost the battle. "Doubt" destroyed Brother Buddy.

I have spent a lifetime trying to understand my childhood in the Pentecostal religion.
These lost souls need "God" to get through their everyday life. At the age of 58 I write this perspective interpretation, I believe that heaven or hell is the here and now. We educate ourselves by living our own lives...our own spirituality. No one can take away our own uniqueness and our own beliefs. That is the Quest of life.
                                 G. E. G.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

GLEN BOB'S NEIGHBORHOOD

          As far as The State of The Union Address, BLAH! BLAH! AND MORE BLAH!!!
          I have found out, I am anemic, something about blood cells not carrying enough oxygen. WOW! That must explain my weirdness, hallucinations and everything that is wrong in my penthouse.
          I have been stuck so many times with needles and so much blood removed since the new year, hell there ain't no wonder I'm anemic.
          I believe I should check into a clinic to wean myself off my medicines. I began taking blood pressure medicine 20 years ago. Seems one med led to another med and the side effect of all meds is weight gain. "AMEN BROTHER" If the medication is suppose to work wonders like the Drug manufactures advertising says, why after 20 years and a shit load of meds is Glen Bob's damn blood pressure still high.
          I felt as good as I had in many years until I made the mistake of getting a flu shot and one week later a tetanus shot, 3 days after my last shot I began a down hill battle that ended with Glen Bob here in the hospital. I find out I'm anemic this week, wow with all the meds and flu/tetanus shots old Glen Bob's body went into shock. Seems a no brainer to me.
          I see conniving conspiracy type crap going on here. The Pharmas want you addicted to drugs the same as illegal drugs. Take a healthy yong man with borderline blood pressure give him meds which create side effects. Over time we create a client for life and all the future problems. The most "asinine" thing is I still have high blood pressure.
         My Doctor says "you need to lose weight and exercise more. "I counter by saying "the damn meds has screwed me up and caused significant weight gain. If I get through 8 hours of physical work on my feet with a bad back, bad knee and arthritic shoulder, I go home and ice down."
         OPINION, MONEY IN THE MEDICAL COMMUNITY IS NOT MADE OFF OF HEALTHY PEOPLE. JUST LOOK AT HOW MUCH MONEY IS TO BE MADE. THE CONSPIRACY IS TO CREATE PEOPLE'S DEPENDENCE FOR MEDICINE AND ALL THE OTHER HEALTH CARE RELATED CRAP!
          MY BUD TIMSTER OVER AT HOW DARE I MAY HAVE MORE TO ADD TO MY SIMPLISTIC AND SHORT OPINION. IT'S ALL ABOUT MONEY AND THE PEOPLE THAT LOVE MONEY IS IN HIS AREA OF EXPERTISE. GIVE EM HELL TIMSTER!    Glen Bob

Friday, January 28, 2011

SHORTS & LOW BRITCHES

          I have to ask a question. What is the damn deal with white males wearing shorts when it is winter in Indiana? My ying-yang gets cold just looking at them silly rednecks! (Well I sure as hell can't call them smart if they ain't got enough sense to put on long pants.) Is it a macho thing, mind over dum-ass or what? They will have an Alaskan sub-zero coat and hood on but bare legs on the bottom. (Yikes, makes me shiver just thinking about it.) Apparently in my old and decrepit days I do not get it.
          Since I am talking shorts I want to talk about pants sooo looow they cannot walk properly and their damn underwear is showing. The only thing I can figure is they must pay 20 $ for a pair of pants that don't fit proper because they must of paid 40 $ for some fancy name brand underwear and they are so proud of them that have to show the world. Is that what them "Pea-cock" individuals are a doing? Do they think showing their fancy-pantsy 40 $ "Manhood Bloomers" is going to turn on the females.
          I took my dog to the Vet the other day and a young man came outside and stepped off the porch, he had to take both hands to grab his britches before he mooned me. Now I understand the young look at me rebellious crap. But britches so low you must show your favorite underwear! So low you must use one hand to hold your britches up! I reckon belt sales are way down. (HA, HA, HA THAT'S FUNNY)
          Well maybe them rednecks that wear shorts in the cold Indiana winter and them ones that wear the pretty underwear are related. Seems highly probable, now that I have pondered the situation. The offspring of them short wearing ones most likely are them young pretty underwear loving ones.
          I could ramble on and on about britches but I have one last comment, I think!
          Use to work with a 40 year old man. He he wore his underwear showing. Now there is nothing worse than a man of his age imitating youthful individualism. A man his age should know better!!!
JUST ONE MAN'S OPINION.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

OLD DOGS CAN LEARN NEW TRICKS

          Writing and computers is very new to my world. I'm six months into my new adventure with both. At the old age of 59 I 'm finding it exciting and challenging and hopefully rewarding. Something to occupy my free time and be fun while stimulating my mind. I have always possessed an active  imagination. I search for a new hobby because after 43 years of labor my body rebels, I can no longer able to do the labors of love I once enjoyed. I know turn to my brain. "Oh shit" comments Suzy Smart Assy (one of my inner voices.)
          Now seems to be a good time to reflect who I am. I wished for you to form an opinion with the stories I have written so far. I try to write humorous heartwarming stories but if you see me digressing please do not worry as I want to show you the good, the bad and the ugly inside my mind. My mind goes all over the map as you have probably noticed. I am late in posting this article because of Internet difficulties. I wanted this article to be my second post of the new year but sheesh the year is still young. Not everything goes as planned does it? I am going to tell you a secret. "Oh yeah the dirt" blurts out Evil Ed (please keep in mind I have an unlimited cast of zany characters that pop up occasionally, the more minds the merrier here in GLEN VIEW.)
          In my 40's I was diagnosed by the Psychiatric professionals as M. D. no, not "Mad Dumass." The highly trained "mind benders" I mean professionals call it Manic Depression. Or also known as Bi-polar Disorder. "Hell yes everyone today is loaded with them there disorders unlike with Freud or is it Fraud, anyway it was always about sex with him wasn't it." (That there would be Freud's unheralded cousin in the Psychiatric community Doc. Fred R. Focker.) I was real careful not to let all my other disorders show at that time I wanted to release them slowly as I age, you see that is where you the readers of my blog come in.
          I'll give you my take on this shit! I grew up with a wonderful mother and let's just say my father had a lot of them there damn disorders before they called them disorders. I was a sensitive child who felt love from my mother and stress from my dad. I have come to the conclusion that this type of childhood upbringing expounded on my uniqueness to think good and bad thoughts simultaneously. (Wow! being around them Therapist and Psychiatrist might be paying dividends.) It's like what my grandmother told me when I was very young. "We have an Angel on one shoulder and a Devil on the other." (I had to learn on my own about all the voices inside my brain.)
          My wish is to show both sides and everywhere in between. If I think it, I am-ma going to write it. If you read a post unlike what I have written so far don't think poor old Glen has went off the deep edge, yikes I have teetered on the precipice my whole life. So sit back and enjoy the ride as I go places I ain't been before. One final thought It is the enjoyment of reading and my imagination that has saved me from more of them damn "DISORDERS." SO ENJOY THE ROLLER COASTER RIDE THAT IS MY BRAIN. Your good buddy Glen at the GLEN VIEW SANITARIUM, where our motto is "Once we get em we keep em."

Sunday, January 23, 2011

MORE ADVENTURES OF BILL LEE AND LILLY CLAIRE

On the last episode back in October Lilly Claire was showing to everyone that Bill Lee was her man. After Bill Lee’s wonderfully amazing way with animals, he walked right up to a terribly frightened horse that had gotten himself in a life threatening mess and saved its life.  Bill Lee’s natural gift around all animals seems to of brought out some animal instincts of Lilly’s. She sealed their bond by giving him a kiss that curled his toes and made her father and Bill Lee’s father understand, emphasizing this is her man.
                Bill Lee and Lilly Claire are one and the same, true animal lovers. Lilly Claire wants to be a Veterinarian just like her father. She has helped in her father’s office her whole life and there was no place she would rather be. Well until now, now it is with Bill Lee. Where Bill Lee was born with a special gift around animals, Lilly Claire must work to gain the animals confidence. She has patience and that serves her nicely for her chosen profession.
                Bill Lee and Lilly Claire spend all their free time either at the Vet’s office or at the farm. Both of their parents are ecstatic with the young couple and feel as though they were made for each other.
                Before long they are seniors and it will soon be time for Lilly Claire to go off to college. As the time grows close they talk of missing each other and the dread of being separated. Talk of marriage enters the conversation but both agree they must wait until after her graduation. Lilly reassures Bill Lee that since her college is only an hour drive away they can see each other regularly and she will come home every weekend. It didn’t seem to make leaving any easier for either of them but they are adults now and know it is best for their future.
                It doesn’t take long for word to get around the College. Lilly Claire tells everyone about Bill Lee’s unique abilities with all animals. The Professors are astounded and ask to meet him. The Hill’s farm is known state wide and Bill Lee is a many times State Fair champion. So it is set, Lilly Claire is bringing Bill Lee to show and tell at the College level; she is tickled to death. Little did she know that this would prove to be an excellent move on her part for both her and Bill Lee.
                Lilly Claire was extremely proud of Bill Lee and his special gift with animals. The Professors at College want Bill Lee to give a demonstration and some advice to their students. Lilly Claire has given them a tape of Bill Lee in action with some of the frightened animals that come into her father’s office. The Farm Country Gazette has written many articles about Bill Lee and he was probably their most loved stories.
                Bill Lee did not take long to garner respect at the Veterinarian School. There were several small animals, dogs and cats which did not showcase his true abilities. So all students and instructors head to the barn where animals of all sizes shapes and kind await. There was this one ornery old Jack Ass called Jack. Jack has been around a long time and has always presented adventurous and difficult times for students. Several of the existing students have felt the wrath of Jack; bruises and bite marks show his mean side. Jack does not appear to like people; he senses their inexperience and uncertainty and gets the best of them. He, simply put, is smarter than the students and likes to aggravate. After biting or kicking them, he throws his head up high and gives a donkey laugh. (Can’t you just see this picture in your mind? I can and chuckle as I write this.) 
                Jack and Bill Lee finally meet. It seems as though the instructors at the college envisioned the best for last. The students are standing on the other side of the show ring as a handler leads Jack the mean donkey out. Jack or “JACK-ASS-U-LOUS” as the students prefer to call him. Jack and Bill Lee eyes lock, they are sizing one another up. Students are giggling because they know and are betting on Jack. Well this is their first encounter with Bill Lee and did they get the fooling of their young lives. Lilly Claire was bursting with pride as Bill Lee had Jack-ass-u-lous doing tricks and obeying his every command. Bill Lee picked up every leg, stood right behind Jack. If any of them were to walk behind him they were sure to get a kick. Bill Lee picked up his tail, nothing. Bill Lee removed Jack’s halter and the old Donkey followed Bill Lee around and playfully rubbed his head up against Bill Lee’s head. No ornery-ness of any kind was shown. Instead of giggles the student were oohing and aahing at the sight before them.
                The Professors and staff was so impressed at what Bill Lee showed them today they ask him to please come to work for them at the university to help train the students. He wasn’t looking for a job but after he discussed the situation over with Lilly Claire and realized they could live at home and drive every day and be together more it was sealed with well, more than a kiss. So Bill Lee a pig farmer was employed at the university as a special advisor in animal behavior and techniques. Lilly Claire takes him to school for show and tell and well! They definitely have something to tell their future grandkids.          
BILL LEE IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS. PLEASE STAY TUNE AS I WILL WRITE AT LEAST ONE STORY A MONTH ABOUT BILL LEE & LILLY CLAIRE AS THE LEGEND OF BILL LEE CONTINUES. G.E.G.

TALE OF A DOG (MAX)

          (THIS IS A TRUE STORY ABOUT MAX. MY FIRST POST WAS TITLED MAX AND THE OHIO AS TOLD TO ME BY A FRIEND. I AM RE-WRITING THIS STORY AND TOLD FROM THE DOG'S VIEW POINT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT.)    While reading this story think along with me and act as you are a beagle dog.  GLEN

          What the "tail." Waking up is roough when you can't remember anything. What am I doing on this tree on the roover (river). Probably best I don't know, how do I get offf? I'll have to rrride it out. Just when all hope was gone I hear a loud noise, it is a human thing only instead of a doggies favorite "truuck" it is on the water. Is it coming to save me? A huuu-man grabs me. I'm offf, offf, offf the tree. My tail is wagging so fast I'm lifting off the ground "rrrrr-rrrrr" wagging, wagging. I'm happy, happy, happy. Finally I'm on grrround. I love grrround where I can ruun, ruun, ruun, I'm so happy. Thank you, thank you, thank you you are my masterrr forrr-everrr. I love grrround, I love grrround. Come here masterrr I must lick you, please, please, please. Where's a rrr-rabbit, I need to chase a rrr-rabbit. I need a rrr-rabbit!!!
          I take me a nice dog-gie nap under the prettiest tree I have ever peeed on. Life is so good on land. I walk around visiting humans who give me all kinds of food. What kind of place is this trrrucks everywhere and them truck water riding things. I like it here huu-mans come and go. My masterrr has left I hope I see him again.
          The huu-man who pulled me off the roover is back, my masterrr is back, is my tail wagging? I must show how much I like him. Just me and him and a nice lady wooo life is sooo good. If only I was still a puppy they would find me more adoreable. I'll just wag my tail off and look at them with my puppy dog eyes. Orrr should I go chase them up a rrr-rabbit. I don't know what to do. I bet I smell, I don't think huu-mans like that stinky dog smell. I'll hang around and look as cute as I can.
          There getting into every dog's dream, a truck, what'll I do! They scratched my head I know they like me. After all he is the one who saved me. I run as fast a I can but my short legs are no match for the trrr-uuuck.
          There is no one here to scratch my head, to talk to me I'm so lonely. Well not as lonely as when I was on the tree on the roover. Aw-wooo, aw-woo, aw-ooo a good whine might clear my mind. I'll whine myself to sleep. After all I am on dry grrround!
          After a good, whine and nap I see someone coming to see me. It's a trrr-uck. It's my masterrr and his lady. They look so happy to see me. Maybe my cute looks has paid offf. I'm in the trrr-uck, I'm rrr-iding in the trrr-uck.
          I'm at their home, home, home. It smells just like them I looo-ooove their smell. Ooo-weee they give me a bath, do I smell goood!!! The rrr-abbits would laugh at me, I don't care I have a hooo-me. They call me Maxx, what a wonderful name.
          They take me to this place, where a man did all kink of unmentionable wei-rrrd stuff to me. He stuck me with this thing and took some of me out, ooouuuch. Apparently there is something wrong with me, not now, I have a home! I was sick for awhile, but I'm okay now. Seems my mast-errrs have saved me again, oooweee their good humans.
          I have my very own blanket on the couch where I sleep at night. My days are spent outside, I have the best of both worlds. I no longer have nightmares about the roover. Thanks to my gracious adopted family (even the cat.) Thank you, thank you, THANK YOUUU!!!      WHOOF! WHOOF!

I TRULY HOPE YOU HAVE AS MUCH FUN READING THIS STORY ABOUT A LOG RIDING BEAGLE ON THE OHIO RIVER WHO WAS RESCUED.
                                                                                                     GLEN
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            !

Friday, January 21, 2011

(SHORT RUNS) FINE DINING & ROBBIE & THE HOOD

          We went to my favorite restaurant for Sunday Dinner. There is nothing tastier than a free meal  when the last time the restaurant screwed up. You see the last experience was a Christmas gift card and the order was to go. So if you are following my rambling the first meal was free and they had trouble processing their own gift card. Computer problems running amuck. So my Missy tells them "my order has been sitting on the counter for quite some time and probably is cold." (She a sly fox ain't she.) The manager comes out and apologizes, gives us two free dinners and a coupon for a free appetizer. This is the type of customer service that makes it the busiest restaurant in town.      
          We always make it an early dinner or lunch otherwise you have to wait. When a fat man like me is hungry, I'm not going to wait for my vittles. Remember the first meal was free and they screwed up and the second meal was free. I can honestly say that was the best free, free meal I have ever sunk my choppers into.   
          Now that I have food out of my system I want to talk about this very successful restaurant but from a completely different view you will receive only on Glen View. All the waitresses and waiters are young. They are mow-docking (sorry my hillbilly slang is coming through, it means moving on, very busy.)
          You don't see any of them low-riding jeans on the young men here. Hallelujah!!! "Butt" ha, ha, ha (I can't resist myself because I know where I am going with this.) Them young women and the way they fill out their jeans!!! Is this why it is called fine dining!!!

                                                          ROBBIE & THE HOOD
         
          Remember the movie Edward Scissorhand with Johnny Depp. I know someone that reminds me of that character or maybe it is Edward Scissorhand's hair, I'm not sure. Seriously folks would I kid you! "I hope to shout" says Granny. "You pulled my leg many a time as a young-in to get out of a-whoopin." (Thanks a lot Grandma, how long have you been living in my brain?) "Honey child I am your Guardian Angel as well as your Guardian Grandma. Without me you would of been flushed down the pooper a long time ago."
          Robbie has hair that is moussed up or messed up. He has extremely thick hair and they seem to individually stick up in an unique way. I was teasing him just they other day and asked him, do they act as antennae." He is a smart good natured young man. "Okay, okay, okay already what about the fricking hood" asks Joe Pesky. Oh yeah, I think he is an Alien. One day Robbie comes to work with an infection in both of his jaw sockets. His jaws were swollen pretty darn noticeable. Remember his unusual hair or antennae as In My Favorite Martian. Robbie has deep dark eyes, add the swollen jaws and he represents the classic Alien face. So imagine Robbie without the hair. I believe his hair is just a distraction, thinking no one will see his disguise.
          As far as the hood goes it always lays over his left shoulder. Never the right shoulder, never the center. I believe it is a signal to all the left hooded "Bros" from his planet.   

I THINK OF BITS AND PIECES OF SILLY RAMBLINGS THAT COME TO ME AS AWAKE DREAMS AS I WORK. IT'S MY WAY OF COPING WITH THE MUNDANE. I KEEP A NOTEBOOK AND WRITE THEM DOWN. I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR TIME HERE ON GLEN VIEW.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

CLOSE TO DREAM TIME (1/18/2011)

Med time is fun time for me. "Why,"  thank you for asking. "Nobody said a damn word, did anyone upstairs say anything" says Joe Pesky. You must be hallucinating, because folks upstairs have been quiet" adds Joe.

Internet still out A T &T tech came out, nothing wrong on my side of the equation. My brain is still short  circuited. Yep, everything pretty much normal here at Glen View Sanitarium. Everyone has problems and I have been voted the craziest inmate for the 59th straight year. It just so happens I am the Psychiatrist and sole proprietor here at Glen View. I am aware that I am a few eggs short of a dozen, perhaps 3 let's say. I am sure others might disagree but it's my blog. Please don't ask my better half she is prone to overstate my retardation, insanity, mental illness, sheesh I forget the proper word they use today. Oh yeah, "challenged." Dictionary says; disabled or handicapped. Disabled; having a physical or mental disability. Handicapped; physically disabled.

Let's see how I fit into this challenged disabled thing-a-ma-bob. I am legally deaf at certain tones. I have a mental disorder "manic depression." I have a body that is breaking down. Hells fire I ought to be on disability. Man, oh man know that I have made an evaluation of myself I'm really in trouble. Huuuuuuuum, I need a sec to think this over, okay I'm done.

If I'm in trouble, then there is absolutely no hope for some of the ones I work with. They have more problemos up top than I do. I kiddingly talk about my inner voices. (Please, don't tell me you do not have inner voices.) I work with one character who cannot follow simple directions, so he drives a truck. (Tell me that does not deserve a chuckle or two.)

Question, at what point does I. Q. make you challenged, because I am damn sure I know several that fit into that category. If you have one eye are you handicapped or challenged. My grandfather lost one eye yet he still did everything he wanted to do. At age 62 he went to school to learn to read. He never considered himself handicapped. I betcha today he would be considered handicapped or disabled. Oh sorry that was a different era, he never let something like the depression stand in his way.

I have been hard of hearing all my life (nerve damage) I cannot pass the test needed to to drive a truck, yet I have driven a truck for mucho years, am I handicapped. (HELL NO I HAVE NEVER CONSIDERED MYSELF HANDICAPPED.) I grew up with some unusual individual. One of our neighbors was deaf and dum. Yet he was the best small motor repairman around. I see truly handicapped individuals who have overcome extreme obstacles.

Society feels the need to label individuals and gives too many handouts. We as taxpayers give them free rides am sick of it.

It appears to me those who work are always facing an uphill battle of survival to raise our children pay our taxes take care of the challenged. Shit! Iam tired of "IT."

SORRY AIN'T LIFE FUN AS JED CLAMPETT WOULD SAY WOOO DOGGIE.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

OLD MRS. HENRY & VELMA RUTH

      ***ATTENTION*** I have something new I call "SHORT RUNS." It is my way of priming the pump to get brain cells going or ending if I am taking my meds before bedtime. This shorts may make you laugh or frown.
I was born a poor sharecroppers son in Alabama. You ask "how poor was I." I was so poor people called me Patches. Oops!!! that was my father or was that a song? Something is not right in my brain this afternoon. Damn I hate when Fartman let's one loose upstairs. When he cuts one I cannot think for hours. That is bad enough but when the taste settles on my tongue woo-wee. Man, it is a good thing I do not smoke or I would spew fire like a circus act. When Fartman releases built up pressure all 100 uninvited freeloaders sing uuuuu like a Baptist Choir right in tune.
"Young man did you see the title before you began typing?" That sarcastic freeloader is English Professor Mr. English gives me migraine headaches sometimes as he attempts to teach me proper English.
My little foul mouth friend Joe Pesky jumps to my defense, "leave the discombobulated nincapoopish #&*?er alone." "Thanks Joe I think!"
(BY THE WAY YEARS AGO THERE WAS A BOOK SYBIL ABOUT A YOUNG GIRL WHO HAD MULTIPLE PERSONALITIES, THAT WAS BEFORE PROZAC. I THINK ALL THESE NEW FANGLED DRUGS OF TODAY WOULD MULTIPLY HER PERSONALITIES AND BECOME JUST LIKE ME WOOOOO AIN'T THAT A SCARY THOUGHT! I AM-A WARMED UP AND GOING SERIOUS ON YOU.
          Mrs. Henry was our next door neighbor when my brother and I was young. She had one child who was challenged. Old Mrs. Henry didn't seem to like me or my brother. Why, I'm not sure, young-ins never think about such things. We were too busy playing cowboy and indian. Today I might venture to say, two young boys playing outside may of struck a sour note when her only child had problems.Who knows! She was just an old witch to us.
          Well just so happens one day Mrs. Henry was talking across the fence to Mom and Dad in a seemingly unfriendly un-neighborly like manner. Well Mrs. Henry says something about us boys that my momma didn't take kindly to. 
          You have to know my momma is a mild mannered woman. Apparently old Mrs. Henry said something that made my momma's feathers bristle up. The mother hen instinct took over and she was going to peck Mrs. Henry. Ya think! Yes I do! You ain'ta going to bad mouth her boys in front of her. Well as I remember it my daddy caught my momma as she were a-startin over the fence after old Mrs. Henry. My momma was going to backslide and teach Mrs. Henry some unconventional Sunday Schoolin of her own concocting, my momma were not a-thinkin, she were-a-actin. I had plum forgotten about this escapade of my momma and something triggered my mind so I had to tell the story. (My dad's side of the family were simple folk so forgive me as I regress but I think it adds some humorous color.) I was teasing my momma about this story just the other day and told her I was going to write it she said "oh god." My momma was born in 1929 and she is still protecting her young-ins.
          THANKS FOR MOMMA'S EVERYEHERE.                                                 

Monday, January 17, 2011

CONCLUSION OF I ACHE FOR YOU

BOYS AND GIRLS MY HOME INTERNET IS STILL DOWN AND AM COMING TO YOU ROM A REMOTE LOCATION AGAIN TODAY. SEEMS FUNNY I PAY FOR THEIR SERVICE AND THEY HAVE DIAGNOSED  NO PROBLEMS!!! I AM FORCED TO PAY $75 AN HOUR TO GET A TECHNICIAN OUT TO FIX WHAT APPEARS TO ME TO BE THEIR PROBLEM.
 The supervisor puts Joey doing a very simple job spacing parts on a conveyor. Joey thinks to himself woo-wee this work shit is easy! After 2 hours he gets a 15 minute break. Damn is this all there is. The supervisor adds one little extra thing. Joey is pissed but tells himself this is not too bad. After lunch the supervisor gives him a pneumatic screw driver and and tells him to assemble the 2 pieces together and space the parts at such and such a speed on the conveyor. "What the ???k, are you kidding me?" he thinks. (You see the problem here. Poor Joey has not the slightest grasp of what the meaning of work is all about. WORK; effort exerted. Labor. Man he has never done such a thing before.)      
Joey sends pieces down the line missing screws and too slowly. The Mr. nice supervisor, explains to him a couple more times. Then the Mr. not so nice supervisor re-explains to him in a not so nice fashion. "Listen son this is the easiest fricking job I got and you are losing the company money. It is about quitting time if you cannot do any better tomorrow on the simplest job I got you ain'ta gonna make it." Joey leaves totally in shock. As he goes by the office Mr. supervisor tells him "listen Joey it is all about attitude, working together to make a product and we're all happy." It is a mindset son and you are working against yourself by saying I cannot do it." The supervisor slaps him on the back.
Joey is bummed, he goes to see his Uncle Louie. Uncle Louie tells Joey. "You have entered the world of adulthood, this is the real world and unfortunately you have not been prepared to jump in feet first by your parents. Think of this as your first really true test of life. If you pass and succeed you become a man, if you fail you can be a wuss living with your mom and dad forever. It would not of been such a shock if you worked at a part-time job first to get the hang of what work is all about. You must suck it up and be a man."
SO WHAT DO YOU THINK JOEY DOES? HE CERTAINLY WAS NOT PREPARED TO ENTER THE WORKFORCE! Joey gets good advice from the supervisor. He talks to his Uncle who gives him good advice. Joey goes home and thinks on his situation. He can do it! Wow what a day! The next day Joey does the job and enters the workforce.

NOW I AM GOING TO PRESENT TO YOU ANOTHER SCENARIO. ANOTHER PLACE IN THE SAME DIMENSION (NO I'M NOT TALKING TWILIGHT ZONE, PLEASE BEAR WITH MY SENSE OF HUMOR.)

Joey lands a part-time job after high school working through a temporary agency. Going many different places never really exerting himself and never seeming to get good marks or asked to come back.
A factory is at the peak of their busy season and needs as they call them bodies. They must have anyone. Joey does his usual half-ass work and gets no shit from the supervisors. He is a smart ass, acting cool. You see the supervisors here don't seem to care they are so busy they will settle for anybody. It does not matter to them if it takes 2 of his kind they do not care they have production to meet.       

IT TAKES A VILLAGE TO RAISE A CHILD AND I BELIEVE IT IS A SUPERVISORS RESPONSIBILITY TO CARE AND DO THE JOB THEY ARE BEING PAID TO DO; HOWEVER I DO NOT SEE THAT ATTITUDE TODAY. I QUESTION A HIGH RANKING OFFICE MANAGE ONCE, "WHY ARE SUPERVISORS TODAY SO AFRAID TO DEAL WITH THE PROBLEM ONES?" HE SAID "THEY ARE AFRAID OF LAWSUITS." ((I SHAKE MY HEAD ON THAT AND WISH YOU GOOD DAY, THANKS FOR VISITING.))       MR. GLEN VIEW   

Sunday, January 16, 2011

I ACHE FOR YOU PART 1

Seems as I age, the more I try not to feel, the more I do feel. I can't overlook the lack of guidance and irresponsibility in today's world of all about "Me."
It appears morality and family values have deteriorate faster than computers become obsolete. The fault lies not in the new generation. It lies in the lack of values taught by the generation before. In order to acquire values such as morality, love, compassion etc. you must see it in action. Having two parents living in the same house is the exception rather than the norm today. I even question that our society is more concerned more about me, me, me and does not take the time to think of what is right for the children. I remember reading an enlightening sentence once "It takes a whole village to raise a child." Please consider that amazingly simple sentence..........
Man oh man they ain't-a talking about my village! Where momma has 5 kids by 5 different men each one an alcoholic she met at 'The Wagon Wheel Bar." She don-na even know if sex was good, she was passed out.
"Okay, okay, okay" (there is that pesky Joe Pesky, for those of you who may not know my writing I have many inner voices that live inside my cranium that pop out at times. I apologize for them but sometimes it is a might funny.) "Okay, okay, okay now get on with the damn story."
I probably went too far one way so let's go the other direction. Mom and Dad are professional people who met at college and their I.Q. is higher than normal. As their careers are just getting off the ground, they have two kids. As they advance up the corporate ladder they must be away from home quite a bit. They make more money have more stress and see less of their children. The once somewhat family togetherness disappears. They hire a nanny from Yugoslavia who speaks no English and cooks the strangest food that John and Mary won't eat, so they have Pizza or burgers and fries every night. They grow obese with childhood diabetes and develope all kind of phobias and disorders.    
So they spend all their free time hanging out, texting playing kill mom and dad games. Wow good family values, love, closeness of the wrong kind. They cry out for love but there is no one there to hear them.
We throw knives into their hearts. It's the me, me, me world. No values are learned if none are given.
They should be experiencing love instead of yearning for it. You know exactly what I am saying. It starts with each and every one of our households. You say "not in my home." Oh really! Do you have dinner and listen to your children or do you complain about your day? I don't think it is all about you, you, you. Family time is about them, them, them.
We wish for our children to have more than what we have. Material objects are not what they need. 'They need guidance, they need life values and it is our job to teach them.
 My heart aches for the children, the neglected searching to find direction. At age 18 they are 10 years old in life skills. It is a fast paced all about me world. Without guidance the children must learn to grow into adulthood and lead the next generation. How can they teach what they don't know?
I see very young adults with a childlike mindset and they have a child. Everyone ooh! and aahs! Look at the beautiful baby. But as the baby grows into the terrible two's and to the rebellious teenager it's the lack of love, guidance and life tools they must have to grow mentally. Hell it's easy to grow physically! Fertilizing the mind is the most important and least done.
Don't get me wrong. I see good young adults with good values. But they are the exception rather than the norm. We need more true adults raising children.
Where I personally am the most disillusioned is witnessing members of society not teaching and not caring not taking that extra time. So they say it's the parents responsibility "Amen Brother." However one tiny act of guidance might push a kid in the right direction. We as a village aren't even trying.
Kids growing up need role models (not athletes), sheesh makes my skin crawl! Daddy idolizes a multi-million dollar a year womanizing pro athlete therefore his son does.
My last point, I have worked my whole life in an industrial environment with many years in a supervisory capacity. SUPERVISOR; to oversee direct, teach workers. I see many ones new to the workforce today. It is Joey's first job mommie and daddie have spoiled him rotten. He has never mowed the lawn has never taken out the garbage. You know what I'm saying. His butt is still wiped by his momma. So Uncle Louie gets him a job in a factory. This young man who thinks work is watching his dad mow grass in 90 degree weather while he works his thumbs playing video games.
END POST 1. I AM STILL EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES AT HOME. I AM POSTING AT A REMOTE LOCATION AGAIN TODAY. IF I EVER GET MY INTERNET BACK "YOU'LL BE SORRY I DID" HA,HA,HA
                                                                                                  Glen

Saturday, January 15, 2011

RESOLUTIONS, HOSPITAL & INTERNET PROBLEMS

      This is Mr. View, how has your new year been? Have you blown your resolutions yet? Mine was to post 4 times a week and loose 2 lbs a week. My ass has been in the hospital and my internet has been ka-blu-ee for 14 days and counting. I'm fit to be tied "what in tarnation does that mean" ask Psycho Phil. (Reminder I have an unlimited cast of characters carousing upstairs that speak their mind.) There is no fun to writing if I can't post. My friend Klem has got me addicted and I have been forced to go cold turkey. I'm borrowing my sister in law's line to post. I once was addicted to prednisone but this here is a natural high I have grown to love.
      I walked into the E.R. of the hospital. One look at me and I felt like a celebrity. Within 10 minutes I was hooked up to every monitoring device they had. I had an easy access port for all the good medicine that would follow. I begin inhaling some steroidal crap to help me breathe and a nitroglycerin pill to blow up my lungs. Yeah baby I'm-ma getting my money's worth. Chest X-Ray and cat-scan, diagnosis excess fluid up causing my heart not to pump properly and we sure as hell don't want that!!! Therefore oxygen was out of kilter. They inject Lasik and all I did was pee-pee-peee. I am admitted and have an ultrasound of both legs to rule out blood clots. The next morning I have an ultrasound of my heart. The technician did not like the look of something, "inconclusive results" she says and we do not want no damn inconclusive results on Glen Bob here. She made a phone call and a nurse injected me with some shit to enhance the image. Within minutes she had to inject me with some more crap to remove the old crap and that is a lot of crap!!! Two Vampires I mean blood suckers, came with the damnest bunch of bottles with which they put my blood into. Apparently Vampires around Columbus need their B-12 Blood shots.
      Oh I almost forgot, my legs are swollen and I had a bad rash up to my knees on both. It was driving me crazier, just imagine that! This damn rash started not too long after I received  a flu shot and a tetanus shot one week apart. HUUUMMM!!! "COINCIDENTAL" not in my fricking mind.
        So after the hospital uses all of their diagnostic equipment, they can probably pay for that new wing addition they want. I find out my heart is beating normal for my age. Something caused my body to retain fluid, HUUMMM!!! Kidneys are not flushing the salt out so on and so forth etc. I am 10 weeks ahead on my diet, thanks to my hospital stay so I'm sailing right along on that resolution. If you are reading this I am 8 posts behind on my Blog. By the way there ain't no way you can rest in a hospital. If they sock you full of good stuff that puts you into a coma, then you can rest, but when they are poking you and prodding you every every 15 minutes how the hell are you suppose to rest?  ***Interesting note***The highlight of my stay was watching 12 hours of The Little Rascals silent shorts on the boob tube. They were hilarious!
HELLO AGAIN TO ALL OF YOU IN BLOGSPHERE. I HAVE WRITTEN A HEAP OF STORIES AND CANNOT WAIT TO POST THEM IF I EVER GET MY INTERNET GOING AGAIN. I TRUST YOUR NEW YEAR HAS TREATED YOU BETTER THAN ME.
GLEN OVER HERE AT GLEN VIEW WHERE YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT MIGHT COME OUT OF MY MENTAL INSTITUTION OF A BRAIN.