Dear America

Having grown up in the days when air raid drills had us crawl under school desks, having witnessed missiles in Cuba, having watched the terrible Vietnam war and its long-lasting life-damaging legacy, and seeing the blunders in Iraq and Afghanistan, I have never been as fearful for our future as I am now.  It is not whether many lean left or right, it is how many of us are leaning wrong. Hateful speech, hateful actions, anti-everything is tearing us apart. How can one look to a better future when we tear down past and present people, our past glories, our brand as a caring and accepting people offering opportunity for all who make the effort to achieve and to pursue happiness and peace, not just for ourselves, but for all. 

There is a term in computereze that is used to explain why a computer program (APP) goes bad: GIGO.  It means Garbage in-Garbage out. If you write bad code you get bad results. With what is being written and broadcast these days, with what we are taking in, how can we hope to be empowering, positive and productive people? 

Dear media and public figures: Write us some good code. Please?

Communion

By quiet, glacial pond
stands a solitary tree.
Its roots upon the banks
hold taut the loose earth.

And there proud it stands,
not as a tree among trees,
but one of noble girth,
to shed upon the liquid face
of the nearby companion,
a colorful profusion of leaves.

In reply, the viscous surface speaks,
sending perfect ringlet waves
toward yonder bank, where,
the tree now nearly bare, laps them up but cannot share.

Then, as skin transforms to ice,
as tawny bark becomes slate gray,
connections halt between the pair,
until spring thaws ice away,
and with it, renewed attempts
at communion.

(c) 2013 by Roger W. Bodo  \- All rights Reserved

Ham Biscuit Bobby

There among the rustic smells of the trading post,

Lined up at the counter are the workers of the day,

Ordering coffee, biscuits and smokes for company along the way.

Down the aisle from the pop cooler,

 Around the counters made of old doors and pine wood bric-a-brac,

 Stacked tight with Gillette, sundries, candies and tobbac,

Swaggers one of the young ones,

Waiting for the bus, skipping class perhaps,

Thin and jaunty, somehow fitting the scene among,

 Older patrons chewing and spitting in a pot,

By the pinball and poker machine, some waiting some not,

For the vittles grilling in back ... then, coming up hot,

White paper bags of food, with names markered on,

Slide across the counter one after another,

And Ham Biscuit Bobby, school bag slung over his shoulder,

 Grabs his daily fare, and shuffles outside to open,

His bag on the winder sill, and drink in the smells of satisfaction.

Yep, it's another good day.

© 2013 by Roger W. Bodo. All rights reserved

As The Reasonable People Withdraw

It worries me that as the ensconced political left and the right become more polarized and seek to win at any cost, the reasonable citizen will tire and step back to let the two fight it out. For all parties this will be as disastrous or more than a terrorist plot.

How to make a big mess

When you suppress,
When you repress,
You make a MESS

How Much Gold in Fort Knox?

While no one will officially confirm the #s, supposedly there is as follows:  .... the gold there (at Fort Knox) and at U.S. Mint facilities adds up to one of the world’s largest bullion holdings. Still, it’s a tiny part of the nation’s total assets. In a $13.8 trillion GDP economy, 147.3 million troy ounces of gold barely registers. 


I multiplied that by the current $1,600 an ounce and it comes to $229 Billion. I think the government just blew that in its FAA faux pas.

Read more: http://moneywatch.bnet.com/economic-news/article/is-there-gold-in-fort-knox/385523/#ixzz1UCI7KoLO

Turn Around

Turn around and look.

Look upon the source,

Of your wealth.

It is you, of course.

Given each person, truly,

Is the ability to succeed,

If one but tames the unruly,

And strives to serve a need.

Focused on another for a solution,

This is not your call.

Ignorance is no absolution.

Dependence builds a wall.

Keeping what you earn,

Is good to a measure,

But what you must learn,

It’s not for your pleasure.

What can you give?

How can you serve?

Your purpose to live,

Is to share and conserve.

Look no further than home ground.

Expect not satisfaction.

A life turned around,

Starts with your first and every action.

(C) 2011 R.W. Bodo All Rights Reserved