Mitt Romney For President!

Bully!

I'm confident Teddy would be heartily amused! 

Happiness guaranteed

Mark Hopkins

Someone asked, if I had to choose one, whether I’d rather be loved or respected.  That’s an easy one.  Back when Lidge and I were working for the railroad, everyone respected ol’ Mr. Crocker; about the same way you’d respect a coiled rattler!  Given an opportunity, we stayed clean out of reach; but when ol’ Crocker was nose to nose with ya, puffed up like an adder who was just fixin’ to strike, he had our earnest interest and our undivided attention; but we’d of liked to knock him senseless with a rock! 

   Uncle Mark on the other hand, had our affection.  When Unk needed anything, he’d ask us one time, quiet like and gentle, and we done it or died tryin’! Respect is fine, and I’ve tried my best to earn it, but I couldn’t go a day without affection. One picture’s worth a thousand words, but a hug expresses volumes.

   Most of us pursue happiness through an all consuming quest to attain one thing that others will covet.  That’s our nature, inherent in our robes of flesh.  We seek validation through what we have, to justify who we are.  That one thing may be a grandiose house, a pretentious spouse, or all variety of shiny, superfluous possessions. Failing in this pursuit, our happiness remains elusive. Even when we’re successful, our satisfaction is generally fleeting.  If your goal is happiness, make that one thing an optimistic attitude.  Invest in a winning attitude, and earn dividends with every smile. If you can develop an attitude that others will admire, success is certain and happiness guaranteed.

   Am I happy?  Why, I’m happy as a bug on the bow of a boat!  Have ya ever watched a grasshopper at the bow of a boat, when the ol’ steamer is churning along at a good clip, the hull is pounding the cobalt blue water into a fine spray and the shore is sailing by; and that ol’ grasshopper is clinging to the railing for dear life, his little antennae are trailing in the wind, his molars are all catching sunlight, his eyes are glazed over and glistening in grateful satisfaction, and the tobacco juice is streaming out the corners of his mouth and collecting in his whiskers and his ears?  Now that’s happy! “Obie’s Quest”

A Real Republican

There appears to be some confusion in our Country today, regarding what it means to be a Republican.  Abraham Lincoln was a Republican.  Ulysses S. Grant was a Republican.  Teddy Roosevelt was a Republican.  These men believed in God and Country.  They devoted their lives to the cause of Liberty and Justice for all. They regulated banks, established parks, and supported a system of taxation, through which all those who shared in the American dream, benefited from, and contributed toward that dream. There’s absolutely no question that some of this Country’s greatest Presidents were Republicans.  But get real! A real Republican would be embarrassed by the behavior of many today. Real Republicans don’t support secession. They’ve not divorced multiple wives. They don’t entirely reverse their own passionately held positions for political purposes.  They don’t resort to unethical if not illegal means in order to avoid paying their taxes.  And they don’t slander, condemn and dishonor the office of President, over petty, partisan grievances. They respect the office of President regardless of who currently holds the office, and they conduct themselves with dignity, civility, and deference toward all those who dedicate themselves to the causes of freedom, Justice, and public service. It’s possible that a real Republican couldn’t be elected by an electorate who revolt against paying their fare share of taxes, and who feel absolutely no responsibility to contribute toward the legitimate expenses of maintaining the greatest nation in the world. It’s possible that a real Republican would appear too reasonable and moderate to appeal to the self-serving, every man for himself mentality that is prevalent in much of our electorate today. But you show me a real Republican, and then we’ll talk.  

S. T. Casebeer

A Faithful Heart

Any fool can question the Bible,

But a faithful heart can accept and share God's love.

STC

This ain't fall no more Toto!

Photo by S. T. Casebeer

My winter work station

I love the outdoors, but sometimes cozy is better.

Boundless, Primal Freedom

Jared Waldo Daniels

The completion of the Transcontinental Railroad was at once a monumental accomplishment, an unparalleled feat of construction, the dream of manifest destiny realized, and a death knell for a proud people. Within a decade, the vast herds of buffalo that had covered the plains like a luxurious quilt for centuries were reduced to tattered remnants and piles of bones, and North America’s Native People were ruthlessly pursued and annihilated.  Those who survived the ruthless campaign were herded onto reservations, where their once proud nations were required to abandon their heritage or vanish along with it.  Despite the best efforts of the few who interceded passionately on behalf of the Indians, treaty after treaty was torn asunder by the wave of settlers rolling toward the west.

   Doctor Jared Waldo Daniels, who began providing medical services to our troops and the Indians in 1855, and served as Inspector of Indian Agencies during the 1870s, shared the following observation regarding the Sioux War and Minnesota Massacre of 1862 & 63, “It is only natural that everyone be curious as to the cause of the uprisings of a people who have always striven to live in peace and harmony with their more civilized neighbors.  To state a fact that is as old as the history of our country’s Indian relations, and the great cause of all our trouble with them, is to say, very clearly in my estimation, violated treaty obligations on the part of our government.”  

   The Dawes Act of 1887 stepped up efforts to purge the Indians of their nomadic tendencies and wean them once and for all, from the boundless, primal freedoms that were their heritage, demanding they embrace instead the pale, pasteurized version offered by the whites.  Understandably disinclined to make this swap, many Indians joined together in a movement known as the ghost dance.  In December of 1890, this movement, and all armed resistance by the Indians, culminated with the unconscionable bloodbath at Wounded Knee. The Indian people now rendered benign, the flood of immigrants continued usurping the west. People called it progress.  Our society teaches us to value progress at any cost.  Sometimes the cost of progress exceeds its worth. “Obie’s Quest”

Chief Red Cloud