Tribute To A Great Lady 1924 - 2007

Cleo Loreen Griffith - Wife, Mother, Grandmother, Great-grandmother.

She will best remembered for her love of people, especially her immediate family. Her husband Bill, who died in 1980, was the love of her life. However, when Cleo became a grandmother, her need to love found an outlet in her first grandchild. She became a grandmother three more times and spent as much time as she could with all of them. And, since she lived next door to all four, they always knew where to go for cookies, ice cream, or someone to bandage their little cuts and scrapes.

Cleo was warm, caring, and fun-loving. She loved to dance, listen to music, talk with friends for hours, laugh and plan pot-luck dinners. Her reputation for cooking earned her a reputation as the “Queen of Comfort Food.” She also loved to knit, crochet, and do needlepoint. Everyone who was close to her owns one of her famous Afghans. She had an eye for color, and could always be depended upon to produce bright colorful blankets that are considered heirlooms by her family.

However, Cleo was also infamous for her knitted slippers that she always gave her family at Christmas. Now, if they had been used to keep feet warm, that would be considered normal; but, when we all learned they were fantastic for sliding across large expanses of waxed wooden floors, a whole new sport evolved! Once everyone had their slippers on, the running, racing, and sliding would go on until someone crashed into something or broke something or, as was the norm, the slippers wore out!

Cleo was also her grandchildren’s favorite philanthrophy! Every school raffle, candy or cookie sale, or field trip could depend on Cleo’s generosity. When her grandchildren needed to sell anything, they knew Grandma was a complete softy, and would buy anything they had to sell. An addded plus was that it was cookies or cand, most likely they would get them back in a week or two as a present. In short, Cleo was the grandmother from heaven that every kid hopes for.

When two of her grandchildren moved with their family to Albany in 1986, Cleo followed shortly thereafter, declaring, “No stranger is going to baby-sit MY grandchildren!” Every Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter, and birthday found Cleo sitting at her daughter's kitchen table, consuming potato chips and clam dip,(and on a rare occasion Bourbon and Seven) and offering advice on how to cook the best turkey gravy the world has ever known.

And finally, Cleo was best known by most of us for her sense of humor. Even in her final days, when she was declining rapidly, she loved to joke and kid with the staff who were her caregivers. Even though she was a mere shadow of her old self, she was still the great lady most of us remembered; a woman who filled so many lives with joy and laughter.

Cleo was one of a kind and will be sorely missed by all of us. Heaven is a better place today, if only for the improvement in its turkey gravy!

Ma' Truck

Cool eh? To haul bark dust, just pile up 10 or 12 bags from Home Depot. No muss, no fuss.

I need one of these NOW!

Contact!

Found The Key, Turned The Ignition, and Started The Engine.

I think my engine is working again after a short period of burn-out. The grieving process takes longer in some of us.

Tomorrow I will go back to semi-regular posting.

Tomorrow I will release some pent-up issues that have been building for the past 30 days.

Expect some goofy cars, verbal assaults on The Fly, and the usual off-the-wall stories of life in the slow lane.

How's that for "pent-up?"

The Plan

I recently received an e-mail asking me if this blog was dead. My usual smart a-- reply was, "Only if you think it is." Personally, I have not ordered an atopsy yet. Nor will I. It's just the grieving process is taking longer than I thought.

My mind is now bubbling, once again, with at least 52 new ideas. Coming soon to a blog near you!

Out.

Time Is Of The Essence

FDA Warning - Don't Read This If You're Young!

An important part of a retiree's life is good use of time management skills. I, like many other retired people,(I'm sure), had the mistaken idea that I would be flooded with available time to meander around doing whatever I pleased. Boy was I ever wrong!

To date, I've completed about 12 items on a list that I prepared in 2003 when I retired. Unfortunately, I've added 66 new items that have a higher priority. If they all fell into one category, like reading, or making more furniture, or catching more trout, I would consider things under control. But such is not the case. Almost every item is distinct, unique, and unlike any of the other items. The good news is almost every "to do" item is something I would enjoy, and hence the joyful part of being retired.

Note to self. Maybe I'll try attaching long-range time frames to my list and see how old I'll be when everything has been completed. My game plan calls for moving on to my next stop - whether it's earth-bound, interplanetary, or ghostly, in about 20 years. That's the last item on the list - and it will never move.

Out.

Father Shall Return

A slowdown in the seemingly endless numbers of family issues is in sight - at least to the degree that I should have time to post some more nonsense from my dysfunctional mind. I don't know about you, but that is good news as far as I'm concerned.

(Re-reading what I just wrote, I couldn't help but notice all of the "casual talk", I.E. as far as I'm concerned and I don't know about you. Delete all of that conversational stuff and you simply have "Good News!")

Out

Patient, Recovering Patient, Caregiver, Chauffer, Cook, Housekeeper, Appointment Maker, & Bill Payer

Notice something missing in the title? Like blogger?

In the words of that famous American military hero and war strategist, The Fly, "I shall return."

This Is Not Supposed To Be A Weekly Blog

My apologies for the lack of posts, but right now my life is a full freaking oyster! An immediate family member in the final days of her visit on earth, an ailing spouse, and my previously noted "minor procedure" at a local hospital; am I a fun guy or what?

So, as is our custom here in the Pacific Northwest, when one wants to make amends, one offers food! (How about that segue?)

Enjoy!

Return

After a couple of days in our local hospital (enjoying what is laughingly referred to as a "minor procedure"), I'm back and feeling great. During my stay I was pleasantly surprised to discover hospitals have finally figured out a few things about customer service.

First, everyone I dealt with was friendly and extremely courteous. Second, everyone wanted to know if I had any questions before they left. It's amazing how much more comfortable one is when one knows what the hell is going on with all the tubes, bags, buzzers, monitors, etc.

My third discovery was one of the best - a meal menu that would make any good restaurant envious! When I was hungry, I picked up the menu with its formidable list, and called room service. Within 10 minutes my meal was delivered by a smiling "waiter" who always checked to make sure it was prepared the way I requested. And finally, the food was GREAT! Unbelievable!

The only downside to the whole experience was a nurse who awakened me at 2:00 AM to find out if I was in pain. (When's the last time you slept soundly when you were in pain?) Some things never change but the good news is - I had to look for something to complain about. And that is really great news!

Where Is Father Time Now?

Have you ever looked at the calendar and said, "What happened to the last two weeks?" I find this happening more and more. In fact, I just noticed the date of my last post - February 7, 2007. So in my situation, what is the answer?

Let's see; first on the list is my Hospice volunteer work. Two patients plus a member of my immediate family equals almost three hours per day. Day hikes around the area to stay in shape for warm weather backpacking season, about two hours/day. Taking care of my kid's dogs while they're in Hawaii, who knows? On average at least an hour/day. Since we have a Sheltie, the addition of a Pug and a long-haired Chihuahua creates the trifecta from hell.

Woodworking? Maybe two hours a week right now, but that time is about to explode exponentially! New wood and furniture repair projects are starting to occupy too much room in the shop, so the cure is simple. Get your butt out there and start making sawdust! Oh ya.

Finally, blogging. Maybe ten minutes/day to read and look for comments. Actually, considering the number of comments I receive, I can add ten minutes to my cramped schedule by skipping that activity completely.

What happened to reading, research, and writing? Zilch. But enough complaining. I don't have time.

Happy trails!

Once Again The Fly Scoops Father Time

Why am I always the last to hear about cool new cars? Yes, The Fly ambushed me again with this picture of his new ride.

I am SO envious!

Annual Picture Of P-38

Father Time's Place was officially one year old in November 2006. This means tradition now becomes an element requiring action on my part. I, therefore, have no choice but to recognize certain "features" (tongue-in-cheek) deserving of annual recognition at this hallowed site.

With that in mind, I'm again posting a picture of my all-time favorite aircraft, the Lockheed P-38 Lightning. If gasoline wasn't so expensive, this would definitely be my commuter vehicle of choice. Incidentally, this is not about bombs or machine guns or weapons of mass destruction. It's about a truly innovative and incredible piece of aeronautical engineering. And it's cool!

Long live tradition. (Yes that's a play on words, but what else do I have to do with my time?)

Coming attractions: a much requested repeat of the "NO TOMATOES" chili recipe and another chapter in the life of NASCAR Sister.

Pacificism Vs Reality - Part 1

Pacifism Vs Respect For Tradition
OK, I confess. I'm a pacifist at heart. Why? Because many years ago I concluded the need to fight was only a primitive survival tactic left over from our cave dwelling days, and was no longer something intelligent people needed to do in order to survive.

I expect someone out there will say, "Father Time are you suggesting that people who say their survival is dependent on their willingness to go to war are not very smart?"

"Kinda sounds that way doesn't it?" the old man saith. But, let me qualify my response by saying the question is an oversimplification of the real issue. Sane people do not sit idly by and let someone beat them down. Sane people will use whatever tactics are necessary, including fighting, to defend themselves from their attackers. And intelligent sane people use force as a last resort. Notice, I said last resort. I did not say the threat of force, but the actual use of force when all other avenues are closed. There's a BIG difference between making a threat and actually unleashing the dogs, and that is where we go awry.

But, you might ask, "What about those who have served and died in wars while protecting our country?" My answer is simple - I have nothing but respect for them. The courage and patriotism they demonstrated deserves the highest honor this nation can bestow upon one of its citizens. If I was Commander-in-Chief, the Medal of Honor would be presented to every veteran (or surviving next-of-kin) who ever served honorably in combat defending our nation.

Having said that, and knowing that I too served, albeit peacetime duty, why would I embrace the concept of pacifism? For one simple reason (and now we have come full circle); war is symbolic of our primitive instincts.

My reading and research indicate I have a degree of support for my theory. Some of the most learned scholars from both ancient and modern times embraced a philosophy of non-violence.

Note: Part Two will discuss some of people who are known for embracing the concept of non-violence. Part Three will survey some folks who believe war is as natural as breathing, and Part Four will conclude with What Is A Just War?, (Thanks Fly). This all depends, of course, in my not losing interest in the whole topic and going off on the evils of backpacking or something even more heinous.

The Yin and Yang of Wheels

Some of you may remember I worked for General Motors in my post-college days. Therefore, the wonderful world of cars will always command a place of honor at Father Time's Place.

Which naturally brings us to the subject of wheels. The trend these days is to feature bigger and bigger rims which supposedly reflect the owner's desire to compensate for his/her shortcomings. Thus, we see cars on the street like this Dodge Magnum, a model whose name alone reflects the owner's comfort with his/her masculinity. Ahem!

Therefore, once again, it's up to Father Time to be a trend setter, as seen in this great photo of a Chevy Impala with - tiny wheels! I ask you, if cars are an extension of one's ego, why not be honest about it!

And yes, there ARE wheels on this car. Just look closely. They are there. The good news? You can carry about 24 spares in the trunk. Believe me, you'll need all of them.

Weapons Of Mass Operator Destruction

Father Time did a turn with the Army in the early 60's. Luckily, we were between Korea and Viet Nam, so my combat duty consisted mainly of getting up at 4:00AM on Monday with a raging headache from Sunday night's training exercises at the Blue Goose in Leesville, Louisiana. I knew serving my country would be tough but this was beyond the call of duty!
At any rate, one of our most "feared" weapons was a 106mm recoilless rifle mounted on the back of an ordinary jeep. Being an engineering student in civilian life, my curiosity was aroused when the term "recoilless" was used to discuss this fearsome, yet brilliant, product of our best military minds. (Remember, mind altering drugs were in vogue back in those days!)

This cool diagram shows the principle of 106mm "rifle." Note that a large portion of the gases produced by the explosive, exits the rear of the gun, offsetting a portion of the recoil that is normally present in any weapon that hurls a huge projectile out of its barrel. So, it has to have some recoil in order to eject the projectile - absorbed by the jeep, but best of all, it would fry anyone standing behind the weapon with hot exhaust. We tried using the exhaust gas to roast wieners, but for some reason, we just ended up with a burnt stick and no hot dog! Life was not looking out for our best interests!

With a straight face, our training sergeants told us that this Jeep/106mm combo was a feared "tank killer." Strategically, we would drive the Jeep into raging combat, aim the 106mm at a tank, fire, and take off before the tank could fire back. Right! Rumor had it that the crew of this unbelievable weapon had a combat life expectancy of about 45 seconds!

At this point Father Time's brilliant mind went to work and came up with this! Since it was a foregone conclusion the crew would die in a matter of minutes, what if we mounted the 106mm on a motor scooter? We could cut the number of casualties in half!

I submitted my idea to the Army Weapons Lab on February 6, 1961, and am still waiting for an answer. Patience is a virtue.

Father Time's Backyard

Yes friends, these guys were hanging out in my backyard this morning! The pathetic photography comes from trying to take a flash picture through a window. Unfortunately, this was my only option since anything else would have scared them off.

My sheltie Joey confided to me that these were the biggest sheep he had ever seen!

Some Thoughts About War & Politics

My endless debate with The Fly over the insanity of war has led me to research the views of contemporary as well as historical minds. My primary focus is the rationale they use to support their views for or against war.

Now granted, the late Libertarian Harry Browne is not usually considered one of the great minds of our time; however what he said resonates with my current feelings: (And after all, isn't that what research really is - trying to find someone who agrees with you?) Browne had strong views on the impact of politicians in leading their nation to declare war on another country.

He said, "Whenever (a nation) goes to war somewhere, the politicians tell their constituents that diplomacy was tried and failed — and that war was the very, very, very last resort.

But the truth is that the politicians didn't try much at all to avoid war. And the diplomacy was bound to fail, because it involved politicians making insensitive demands on another country — demands they had no authority to make, demands that were known in advance to be unacceptable to the other nation.

In the few cases when America has been attacked, it's been because our politicians were trying to dictate to other countries. Typically they were countries that represented no threat to us at all. Those countries who did attack us were either trying to gain an advantage against the stronger U.S. when our government had made war seem inevitable (as at Pearl Harbor), or because attacking seemed the only way to strike back at a country that was throwing its weight around in other people's business (as in 9/11).

I grant you, Harry was a bit extreme, but not far away from the reality of Washington. I still fight the idea we are in Iraq because of oil. But I don't fight the idea that the "official" reasons have never been (nor will they ever be) revealed. Whatever the reasons, real or imagined by a paranoid Father Time, our being there today is just plain wrong - a totally needless waste of American money and troops. Resources we can ill afford to squander and desperately needed by our own people. Resources squandered by an administration that refuses to listen to its own citizens. Resources squandered by an arrogant administration that feels it knows more than the electorate.

Thus endeth the rant! My apologies to those have followed Father Time's Place for the past year, and came here looking for comic relief. I shall return!

Next up, some thoughts from ancient philosophers who felt war was inevitable. It will be tough for me to digest, but in my 67 years, I've digested a lot. Especially the past six years!

Father Time Shops For An Airplane

Despite saying this was the The Year Of Being Serious, I couldn't resist this picture!

I wonder how much lessons cost?

If Life Was A Movie Review

Mine would start with something original like this.

Father Time is The Whirling Dervish.
That would work for openers.

Synopsis:
What is a "Whirling Dervish" anyways? You'll be sorry you asked. Wikipedia, that infallible source of truth says:

The Mevlevi Order or the Mevleviye are a Sufi order founded by the followers of Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi in 1273 in Konya, (in Turkey at present). They are also known as the Whirling Dervishes due to their famous practice of whirling as a form of dhikr (remembrance of Allah). Dervish is a common term for an initiate of the Sufi Path.

OK, So I'm not a Whirling Dervish
But I've really been busy.

To Readers of TSTF

My friend The Fly has promised his blog readers a response from me to his posts about the legitimacy of the war in Iraq.

To those hard-core Fly readers, I will respond as soon as I calm down following Bush's speech on Wednesday. When I'm enraged I have this tendency to spout off on issues that have no basis in fact, such as "war is bad", or "money for Iraq but funding cutbacks for the mentally ill in the US."

In an effort to respond with some degree of coherent thought, I'm finishing a book called On War by the German military philosopher Carl von Clausewitz. It attempts to prove that war is a good thing. I, on the other hand, believe it is nothing more than a continued demonstration of civilization's inability to control the primitive appetites our collective psyches possess.

Rating

This movie is rated "R" for rage. Stay tuned. I am.

Good Intentions Awaiting Execution

The following is a public service announcement.

My recent hiatus from Father Time's Place provided time to contemplate the overall direction of this place and to develop some new content ideas.

As I noted in the last post, much will be the same but one new twist will become apparent - my willingness to tackle a controversial topic. For the past year, I've avoided venturing into topical issues, preferring to use indirect (but gentle) humor to tap dance around controversy. My rationale was simple - there are literally hundreds, if not thousands, of sites devoted to promoting and shaping thought. (Now the bad news.) However, by dodging the sticky stuff, I was also depriving myself of the therapeutic benefits of "getting something off my chest."

I am, if nothing else, a strong proponent of good mental hygiene. If I thought for one moment I was taking myself down the road to dysfunctionality, I would be horrified. Therefore I have decided to pursue controversy, if necessary, in order to avoid having my train ride to enlightenment derailed. At the same time, this doesn't mean I'm turning Father Time's Place into a pulpit. It just means we will be willing to play hard ball if the situation calls for it.

Harrumph! I feel better already!