Big Name Sport's Stars-Boring

Is anyone else sick and tired of prima donna athletes? KD,this is boring. You signed the contract, now, do the job and win a championship for the Nets.

GREED

Come now, you rich, weep and howl for the miseries that are coming upon you. Your riches have rotted and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver have corroded, and their corrosion will be evidence against you and will eat your flesh like fire. You have laid up treasure in the last days. Behold, the wages of the laborers who mowed your fields, which you kept back by fraud, are crying out against you, and the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of hosts. You have lived on the earth in luxury and in self-indulgence. You have fattened your hearts in a day of slaughter. ... James 5:1 ESV

For Shame,For Shame, For Shame

My hometown has not only been invaded by outsiders, it has been the victim of a disease of pandemic proportions, and I am not talking about Covid-19. No, I am talking about the disgusting, easily tramsmitted disease of greeed and love of money.Many lower income and retired Social Security retirees are in a life saving mode searching for resoanable housing, the old homes being sold out to tourists for hundreds of dollars per night. We live in a world void of love for our neighbor.

It Is Derby Time Again

 

A Wallace Tradition

It Must Be Derby Time , And Bizarre Days Around the Nation.

Yes sir we, Bob, it is that time when the great city of Wallace, Idaho showcases all the fine restaurants, bars, hospitality and sense of humor to the world. What could possibly be more exuberating than to follow with quivering, drunken, anticipation  a ball floating down what was once a dirty, filthy, nasty, smelly, unsanitary,polluted, creek, officially the SouthFork of the Coeur D' Alene River, but lovingly , and adoringly  known to locals as " Lead Creek"Only now, of course, the creek is clean, but I don't think an event renamed " Clean Creek Derby" would have the same appeal.

I am sure that our great city of Wallace is not the only metropolis in the world that has a funky event of such magnitude, so I did a little research and found these beauties.

Spivey Corner, NC. you will love this one, folks. The National Hollerin Contest. Evidently folks in this sophisticated town feel that "hollerin" is a lost art. Hm, they must have never been to Wallace on a Saturday night on the old days. However, it is nice to know that because o Spivey Corner, NC, "hollerin" will never be lost to the world, and we are grateful,

In case one thinks that "Derby Days or Depot Days" is a little strange, hang on to your beer because if there ever was a reason to hold a festival, Fruita, Colorado has us beat. What could possibly top the event of all events, and the Creme de la creme of events?  Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the "Headless Chicken Days". No, I did not make that one up. No one could.

Just when you thought that it could not get much more bizarre, I close today with this one,the one the Chicago Tribune heralds as one of the top 100 celebrations in the US. Ladies and gentlemen, drum roll please_______________I present to you the "Frozen Dead Guy Days". It is too much to write,, so I will get a little lazy here and do a little copy and pasting. This you will want to read.

 When Grandpa Bredo passed away in 1989, he was a parks-and-recreation director in Norway who suffered from heart problems. Four years later, he was the "frozen dead guy" living in a backyard shed in Nederland, Colo.Bredo's family was into cryonics, and from the time of his death he was stored in a cryonics facility in California. In 1993, though, his daughter and grandson decided to care for him themselves, at their home in Nederland. Word soon got out that a local family was keeping a frozen Grandpa in the yard, and the artsy, off-beat mountain town loved it.A couple of decades later, Grandpa Bredo is still there -- but his family isn't. They ended up heading back to Norway but left Grandpa in the shed, under the care of the Ice Man, a hired hand who refreshes the dry-ice supply once a month to keep him safely frozen. It's a good thing he stayed, since he's the center of a funny little tradition that has grown into a huge, annual celebration that marks the final days of harsh winter.
The party known as "Frozen Dead Guy Days" takes place over a weekend in March, and it's quite the wacky destination. People come from near and far to take part in the death-and-winter-themed festivities, including coffin races, frozen-T-shirt contests, ice-turkey bowling, brain-freeze contests and the frozen-salmon toss. There's live music, lots of beer and, of course, tours of Grandpa Bredo's shed, where the old man rests in suspended animation, waiting to rise again and greet his fans.
The Chicago Tribune ranked Frozen Dead Guy Days among the best 100 festivals in the United States.

http://adventure.howstuffworks.com/destinations/parades-festivals/5-weird-festivals1.htm
 More to come.

Happy Birthday -Big 21 tomorrow for Grandson Tai

Tomorrow is my grandson's, Tai, 21st birthday, His birth brought so much joy to his grandpa.

 
I was still living in Seattle in those days, and every moment that I could get away from the hotel, I headed up to your parent's house to see you. I have hundreds and hundreds of photos of you. I remember the first time that you fell asleep in my arms. I remember holding your hand when you started walking, and ventured up the street to the baseball park and watched the softball games on Sunday afternoons. You had already developed a love of baseball that you have to this day.

I remember the fist time that you called me "grandpa", and instead of making me feel old, it had quite the opposite effect. I made me feel alive. I remember that we talked Seattle Mariner baseball when you were only two years old, and you could name some of the players even then. Cammy,(Mike Cameron) was your favorite player, and you even had a jersey with his name on it.

I followed your Little League games from here in Idaho on cam at your park there. I watched you pitch on national television in the Little League Word Series, and I followed your HS baseball religiously including getting to watching you play for the Washington State Championship at Safeco Field. 

Now, you are a young man, and I am so proud of you, and I love you. Happy Birthday!

Time,Time,Is Not On Our Side

 2 Timothy 3:1

But realize this, that in the last days difficult times will come

Source: https://bible.knowing-jesus.com/topics/End-Times

Mark 13:32

But of that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone.

But woe to those who are pregnant and to those who are nursing babies in those days!

Matthew 28:20

teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

1 John 2:18

Children, it is the last hour; and just as you heard that antichrist is coming, even now many antichrists have appeared; from this we know that it is the last hour.

Source: https://bible.knowing-jesus.com/topics/End-Times NASB

Jesus is coming back soon. Are you ready?

Here's Johnny

 The world is teetering on the verge of nuclear disaster, raging pandemics, and mass starvation, but we are interested in the news coverage of Johnny Depp because, OH that's right, I am not interested in the least. Americas has become a living soap opera.

Disgusting!!!

Batter Up

 Yes, fans, it is once again time for the great American pastime. I know, I know, most people consider football to be the leader in American fan support, but well, I am, if nothing, a romanticist in the classical sense, and I am somewhat of a back to future type guy, so to me, there is no comparison. Baseball is still king of the hill.

Every year when I was growing up Wallace, the beginning of the baseball season was a time of celebration. My late dad loved baseball, and he had grown up a St Louis Cardinals fan. As a young man, he used the old peephole at a stadium in his hometown of Joplin, MO, and watched the Cardinals play an exhibition game against the Joplin Miners, a minor league club in the Western Association. Dad instilled the love of the game in my brother and in me at a very, very, young age. The Game of the Week was a time of sharing" dad time", and we never missed it.

Each year when spring came, and baseball season started, my dad would remark that another winter was gone, and he had made it another year. Spring and baseball brought hope, new beginnings, and a pat on the back that indeed another harsh Wallace winter was over. As i get older, I, too, now look for the start of the baseball season and I, too, now, say. "Wow, I made it another year. I am still alive, and there are new beginnings and new hope.

So, Play Ball!

 In 2008 we were taking care of my parents in Osburn after my mother had her stroke. We decided that we were going to have tofurky that year for Thanksgiving instead of turkey. I wrote a tongue in cheek blog about hunting for one.

The time had come, and I got in my car. I was dressed in my best hunting clothes, and I had my weapon oiled, loaded, and ready for the hunt. Now, as everyone knows the Silver Valley has many great animals, but the Tofurky was not to be found here.

Thanksgiving was just a few days away, and it was time to do the annual hunt. I would be going deep this year into uncharted regions to put the annual feast on the table this year. It was a dangerous hunt, but I carefully prepared all of my gear for the adventure. The danger of the hunt was a large part of the tradition, and although many a hunter had met with tragedy, I scorned the danger, for I am a man that would have made the pioneers of this great nation proud. This country was built on those who dared to defy the odds, and against all barriers, guide the building of what we are today.

Yes, it was uncharted hunting for me, for I had never gone Tofurky hunting before, but being the careful planner that I am, I had read everything that I could find about this wild beast of prey. I googled, and googled and googled to make sure that I had digested every bit of input that I could lay my hands and eyes on, for I wanted to be ready. Nervous? You bet your sweet candy yams that I was. But afraid? You can bet your pumpkin pie that I would never show it. Fear has no place in the hunt, and if you show fear, the great Tofurkeys would know it, and they would devour you right in the middle of your cranberry sauce.

So, just three days before Thanksgiving, I decided that this was the day, and no matter what happened to me, I would know that I was a man of the woods, a man who had faced the odds, a man who dared fate to make me mincemeat pie. I would not be made in to a pile of mashed potatoes, nor I would I be reduced to a quivering bowel of jello salad. No, I would get my Tofurky, or I would die trying. Either I would bag the great beast, or the beast would devour me.

So, my wife and I left the friendly confines of home, not knowing what awaited us in the big city of CDA, but we are ready, excited, and determined that we would be victorious, and would safely get back home with our prize. We had a great trip , as we always do, laughing, and bantering back and forth as the car made it's way over the mountain to Tofurky country. And suddenly, we were there. Now, I have to admit, we began to feel a little fear. The cold sweat began to trickle down my back as we neared the sacred hunting grounds. We would have to be guided by fate, because we knew not which spot in the sacred hunting grounds would be the place where we would spot our first Tofurky.

Up Hwy 95 we went. Ah, yes, the most dangerous highway, but if we were going to have any luck in the hunt, this was the way that would offer the most likely chance of getting our game. Our senses were fully alert as we made our way past the great Appleway intersection. We were getting deeper and deeper in to the jungles. To our right we saw what we were looking for. Super One. If there were any Tofurkys in CDA, this would be as good a place as any to find them.

We hugged each other as we got out of the car, knowing that we were about to be entering the most dangerous zone known to man. Quickly, we entered the sacred hunting grounds of Super One, and began to scout the terrain. Hm, the area was full of hunters that day. There must have been hundreds and hundreds of them. We would not only be lucky to to find our prey, we would be luck if they were not all gone by the time that we did find them.

Slowly, we began to make our way around the grounds. We went past the part where we saw many hunters who had already bagged their prey for the day. Their hunting carts were full of a funny looking bird they were calling a turkey. Oh well, each to their own I guess. Anyone could hunt and get a turkey, but few in North Idaho could bag a Tofurky. I vowed that we would not leave the sacred hunting grounds without one.

I could sense that we were near one, and the hair on my head began to stand on end. Careful, careful, I told myself. We must not let them know we were there. And then, I spotted the frozen tundra ahead, and I knew we were close, The hunt was on, and I threw all caution to the wind as I drew my weapon, and guided my hunting cart with neck breaking speed towards the frozen area. "Careful", my lovely wife shouted out, but the blood was racing through my veins, and my ears were pounding, my heart beating faster than a light, but I now no longer cared. And all of a sudden, there it was, right in front of me. The GREAT TOFURKY, the greatest beast to ever roam the earth. My moves were swift and precise, and the poor beast never knew what hit him. In one full swoosh, I had bagged it, and had it in my hunting cart.

My wife and I danced on the sacred hunting ground as we gave praise for our good fortune.

Afraid that this might be only a dream, I ran toward the other throngs of hunters to make the final offering for our game. With the skill of an expert hunter, I whipped out my bankcard plastic weapon, and finished the deal. It was over. We had our Tofurky, and we were speeding home with our prize. Another great hunt, another great day to give thanks.

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A Star Named Starr

 

He was a childhood friend, a classmate, and a star athlete. He was an inspiration to me. He was a friend, a blogger, and someone I trusted to share my writings with. Most of all, in these last couple of years, he was a brother in Christ, and I miss him. R.I.P my dear friend and brother.

In Memory of Starr Kelso who passed away on September 10th, 2021