"Happy Thoughts"

& Words of Wisdom from our visitors!

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Never raise your hands to your kids. It leaves your groin unprotected.

I'm not into working out. My philosophy: No pain, no pain.

I am in shape. "Round" IS a shape...

Ever wonder if illiterate people get the full effect of alphabet soup?

I always wanted to be somebody, but I should have been more specific.

Did you ever notice when you blow in a dog's face he gets mad at you? But when you take him in a car he sticks his head out the window.

Have you ever noticed? Anybody going slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac.

You have to stay in shape. My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was 60. She's 97 today and we don't know where she is.

The reason most people play golf is to wear clothes they would not be caught dead in otherwise.

Anytime four New Yorkers get into a cab together without arguing, a bank robbery has just taken place.

The statistics on sanity are that one out of every four Americans is suffering from some form of mental illness. Think of your three best friends. If they are okay, then it's you.

Now they show you how detergents take out bloodstains, a pretty violent image there. I think if you've got a T-shirt with a bloodstain all over it, maybe laundry isn't your biggest problem. Maybe you should get rid of the body before you do the wash.

I ask people why they have deer heads on their walls. They always say because it's such a beautiful animal. There you go. I think my mother is attractive, but I only have photographs of her.

A lady came up to me on the street and pointed at my suede jacket. 'You know a cow was murdered for that jacket'? She sneered. I replied in a psychotic tone, 'I didn't know there were any witnesses. Now I'll have to kill you too.'

Future historians will be able to study at the Gerald Ford Library; the James Carter Library; the Ronald Reagan Library and the Bill Clinton Adult Bookstore.

Given the gravity of any given situation lends weight to failure not salvation? In others words, dont worry so much :^)

At the height of a political corruption trial, the prosecuting attorney attacked a witness. "Isn't it true," he bellowed, "that you accepted five thousand dollars to compromise this case?"

The witness stared out the window, as though he hadn't heard the question.

"Isn't it true that you accepted five thousand dollars to compromise his case?" the lawyer repeated. The witness still did not respond.

Finally, the judge leaned over and said, "Sir, please answer the question."

"Oh," the startled witness said, "I thought he was talking to you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Mother and Daughter in New York

A mother, accompanied by her small daughter, was in New York City. The mother was trying to hail a cab, when her daughter noticed several wildly dressed women who were loitering on a nearby street corner. The mother finally hailed her cab and they both climbed in, at which point the daughter asks her mother, "Mommy, what are all those ladies waiting for by that corner?", to which the mother replies, "Those ladies are waiting for their husbands to come home from work."

The cabbie, upon hearing this exchange, turns to the mother and says, "Ahhhhhhh, C'mon lady!!!! Tell your daughter the truth!!!! For crying out loud. They're hookers!"

A brief period of silence follows, and the daughter then asks, "Mommy, do the ladies have any children?"

The mother replies, "Of course dear. Where do you think cabbies come from?"

~~~ Bad Language

The little boy was caught swearing by his teacher.

"Johnny," she said, "you shouldn't use that kind of language. Where did you hear it?"

"My daddy said it." Little Johnny responded.

"Well, that doesn't matter," she explained, "you don't know what it means."

"I do, too." Little Johnny corrected. "It means the car won't start."

> >TIDBITS FROM HISTORY > > > >Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May > >and were still smelling pretty good by June. However, they were starting to > >smell, so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the b.o. > > > >Baths equalled a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the > >privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the > >women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was > >so dirty you could actually loose someone in it. Hence the saying, "Don't > >throw the baby out with the bath water". > > > >Houses had thatched roofs. Thick straw, piled high, with no wood underneath. > >It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the pets... dogs, cats > >and other small animals, mice, rats, bugs lived in the roof. When it rained > >it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the > >roof. Hence the saying, "It's raining cats and dogs". > > > > > >There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a > >real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could really mess > >up your nice clean bed. So, they found if they made beds with big posts and > >hung a sheet over the top, it addressed that > >problem. Hence those beautiful big 4 poster beds with canopies. > > > >The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt, hence the > >saying "dirt poor". The wealthy had slate floors which would get slippery in > >the winter when wet. So they spread thresh on the floor to help keep their > >footing. As the winter wore on they kept adding more > >thresh until when you opened the door it would all start slipping outside. A > >piece of wood was placed at the entry way, hence a "threshhold". > > > >They cooked in the kitchen in a big kettle that always hung over the fire. > >Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They mostly ate > >vegetables and didn't get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner > >leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the > >next day. Sometimes the stew had food in it that had been in there for a > >month. Hence the rhyme: peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge > >in the pot nine days old." > > > >Sometimes they could obtain pork and would feel really special when that > >happened. When company came over, they would bring out some bacon and hang it > >to show it off. It was a sign of wealth and that a man "could really bring > >home the bacon." They would cut off a little to share with guests and would > >all sit around and "chew the fat." > > > >Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with a high acid content > >caused some of the lead to leach onto the food. This happened most often with > >tomatoes, so they stopped eating tomatoes... for 400 years. > > > >Most people didn't have pewter plates, but had trenchers - a piece of wood > >with the middle scooped out like a bowl. Trencher were never washed and a lot > >of times worms got into the wood. After eating off wormy trenchers, they > >would get "trench mouth." > > > >Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt bottom of the > >loaf, the family got the middle, and guests got the top, or the "upper crust". > > > >Lead cups were used to drink ale or whiskey. The combination would sometimes > >knock them out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would > >take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the > >kitchen table for a couple of days and the family > >would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. > >Hence the custom of holding a "wake". > > > >England is old and small and they started running out of places to bury > >people. So, they would dig up coffins and would take their bones to a house > >and re-use the grave. In reopening these coffins, one out of 25 coffins were > >found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized > >they had been burying people alive. So they thought they would tie a string > >on their wrist and lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and > >tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night to > >listen for the bell. Hence on the "graveyard shift" they would know that > >someone was "saved by the bell" or he was a "dead ringer". Or ...they would > >then know "For Whom the Bell Tolled".

>>AN 18-YEAR OLD'S ANALYSIS OF THE COLORADO SHOOTINGS >> >>21 April 1999 Sarah Honey >> >>From Where I Stand: A Teenager's Voice from Inside the Culture of Death >> >> >>On April 20, 1999, there was yet another gruesome shooting in Littleton, >>Colorado. Kids killing kids. And again, the entire nation in its uproar is >>trying to figure out why. I am eighteen years old. I live in a small town >>near Madison, Wisconsin. A small town just like the ones where these >>horrifying shootings always seem to take place. Every time those stories >>come on the television, I can't help but notice how easily it could be my >>small town next. And I want to know why this is happening just as badly as >>any parent or police chief or anchorman. >> >>The thing is, I am right in the middle of it. I am in the same age group >>as >>all of these high school kids. So I may have some insight for the world >>that >>has been otherwise unattainable since these shootings started some years >>ago. The night of the Littleton shooting, as I was flipping through the >>various >>news channels that were covering the story in Littleton, Colorado, I heard >>something that struck a chord in me. An anchorman was interviewing the >>mother of a victim in the Jonesboro shooting. His question was: "If you >>look >>at America in the 1950's, you will find that this kind of thing never >>happened; >>whereas if you look at America today, this kind of thing is becoming more >>and more frequent. Why do you think this is happening?" >> >>The woman, of course, could not answer the question. In fact, she didn't >>really even try. But I did. I thought about it for a long time that night. >>And again the next morning, when my favorite morning radio talk show >>asked its listeners why they thought this has been happening. Many people >>said it's the parents of the kids. Many people suggested television and >>video >>games. Many people even turned to popular musicians, looking to put the >>blame somewhere. But I will tell you what I think it is. What I, a regular >>teenager riding on the coattails of Generation X, blame it on. It is not >>the >>parents or the movies or the rock stars. >> >>It is AMERICA. It is this culture of death, this culture in which liberals >>and feminists and activists are so anxious to let anything be "OK" that >>the >>once tightened, knotted rope of society is unraveling right beneath us. >> >>Don't you see? There can be no order without discipline. All of those >>things >>people think are causing children to run into a school and shoot their >>teachers >>and peers and even kids they don't know - the movies, the video games, the >>parents, the rap artists - they are only REFLECTIONS of our society. >>Society >>breaks down, from one big metaphoric "family" into 50 metaphoric >>"families" >>and so on and so on, until you have the actual FAMILY, the one with the >>parents and the kids and the dog. It is not one thing or two things; it is >>the attitude of an entire "familiar" nation being reflected back at us in >>the kids. >> >>Just as that anchorman suggested, something was different about the >>1950's. >> >>WE WERE CONSERVATIVE. >> >>We had boundaries; we had a definite knowledge of right >>and wrong throughout the entire nation. We didn't have feminists pushing >>women so hard to go get a job that a woman who didn't have a job was >>somehow "bad," thereby leaving kids at home with inadequate parental >>guidance and often times with parents who were truly unhappy. We didn't >>have liberals fighting so avidly to legalize everything that it was at the >>point >>of completely blurring the line between good and bad. We didn't have a >>nationwide media surge dedicated to sex and violence so intense that if >>you weren't playing killing video games at age 14, then you were trying to >>choose between contraceptives beforehand or abortion afterwards. We didn't >>have disputes over whether or not we should help someone who is dying die >>sooner - over whether or not we should ASSIST them in committing SUICIDE. >>And we certainly didn't have a President who was in favor of NATO bombing >>and killing children in Serbia come on the television to grieve the loss >>for >>the >>families of children killed in America. >> >>We live in a loosely tied society, a culture dedicated to death. If you >>don't >>want the kid, kill it. If you don't want to live out the rest of your >>God-given days, kill yourself. Or better yet, have someone else come help >>you do it. I guess, no matter how horrible or gruesome or gut-wrenching it >>may be, it was just a matter of time before someone got that >>"killing-as-a- >>means-to-an-end" idea stuck in their head for the part between birth and >>death as well. >> >>Everything that happens in families and cities and states and countries is >>the mirror image of the big picture. We are falling apart as a society. >>Am I - some random normal teenager in Farmertown, U.S.A. - the only one >>who sees that? It's sad and it's hard to believe, but what's worse is that >>it's >>scary. I think it's time for our (America's) Mom and Dad to ground us - >>to >>say, "If you don't shape up by the time I count to three..." And then >>really >>count to three. Because we are running wild and pretty soon we're going >>to be too far from home to ever get back. >> >>There was once a great saying by a famous man that has rung true >>throughout >>the history of mankind - in every family and in every society and in every >>social group and in every religion - it was a frighteningly true statement >>that cannot be disputed. I am reminded of it now, in the wake of yet >>another indescribably tormenting result of a nation gone haywire...

Optimism; It's the only atitude that makes any sense in this world. Guarded optimism.

GOD LOVES US AS WE ARE.

Like most of you, I receive a fair number of e-mails warning me about a "new" virus that has just come out, or some horrible new thing people are doing, such a putting aids tainted needles in movie theater seats or pay phones. 99.9% of them are hoaxes. If people would just stop and think a moment they would realize that Microsoft has better ways to get publicity than having people forward an e-mail message. For some strange reason, when it comes to the Internet, people take e-mail as fact, rather than question its validity. It can happen to the best of us. Just ask the famous Pierre Salinger. He reported that a plane was shot down accidently by a missile from the U.S. navy. It was a hoax of course, but based upon his reputation, the major new organization reported it a fact. This humor piece pokes fun at all those supposedly "true" warnings we all receive in e-mail.

An Urban Legand

I know this guy whose neighbor, a young man, was home recovering from having been served a rat in his bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. So anyway, one day he went to sleep and when he awoke he was in his bathtub and it was full of ice and he was sore all over. When he got out of the tub he realized that HIS KIDNEYS HAD BEEN STOLEN. He saw a note on his mirror that said "Call 911!" But he was afraid to use his phone because it was connected to his computer, and there was a virus on his computer that would destroy his hard drive if he opened an e-mail entitled "Join the crew!" He knew it wasn't a hoax because he himself was a computer programmer who was working on software to save us from Armageddon when the year 2000 rolls around. His program will prevent a global disaster in which all the computers get together and distribute Gates. (It's true -- I read it all last week in a mass e-mail from BILL GATES HIMSELF, who was also promising me a free Disneyworld vacation, Nike sneakers and $5,000 if I would forward the e-mail to everyone I know.) The poor man then tried to call 911 from a pay phone to report his missing kidneys, but reaching into the coin-return slot he got jabbed with an HIV-infected needle around which was wrapped a note that said, "Welcome to the world of AIDS." Luckily he was only a few blocks from the hospital-the one, actually, where that little boy who is dying of cancer is, the one whose last wish is for everyone in the world to send him an e-mail and the American Cancer Society has agreed to pay him a nickel for every e-mail he receives. I sent him two e-mails and one of them was a bunch of x's and o's in the shape of an angel (if you get it and forward it to twenty people you will have good luck but ten people will only have OK luck and if you send it to less than ten people you will have BAD LUCK FOR SEVEN YEARS). So anyway the poor guy tried to drive himself to the hospital, but on the way he noticed another car driving along without his lights on. To be helpful, he flashed his lights at him and was promptly shot as part of a gang initiation. And it's a little-known fact that the Y1K problem caused the Dark Ages.

I received a telephone call last evening from an individual identifying himself as an AT&T representive who was conducting a test on our telephone lines . He stated that to complete the test I should touch nine (9), zero (0), the pound sign (#) and then hang up. Luckily , I was suspicious and refused.

Upon contacting the telephone company, I was informed that by pushing 90#, you give the requesting individual full access to your telephone line, which allows them to place long distance calls billed to your telephone number.

I was told further that this scam has been originating from many of the local jails/prisons. I have also verified this information with UCB telecomm, Pacific Bell,MCI, Bell Atlantic,GTE and Nynex.

Please beware.

Do not press 90# for ANYONE, GTE Security Department asked that I share this information with everyone I know.

It seems that a young man volunterred for military service during World War II. He had such a high aptitude for aviation that he was sent right to Pensecola skipping boot camp. The very first day at Pensecola he solos and is the best flier on the base. All they could do was give him his gold wings and assign him immediately to an aircraft carrier in the Pacific. On his first day aboard he took off and single-handedly shot down 6 Japanese Zeroes. Then climbing up to 20,000 ft. he found 9 more Japanese planes and shot them all down, too. Noting that his fuel was getting low, he descended, circled the carrier and came in for a perfect landing on the deck. He threw back the canopy, climbed out and jogged over to the captain. Saluting smartly he said, "Well sir, how did I do on my very first day?" The captain replied, "You make one velly impoltant mistake!"

life is a gift thats why we call each day a present

Jesus died for your sins. Take his gift of salvation and live forever in heaven. Happiness is found in Jesus.

A quote. I don't know who said it, I saw it on a pillow at Walmart :-) "Despite the high cost of living, it's still popular."

Let's say it's 4:17 p.m. and you're driving home, (alone of course) after an unusually hard day on the job.Not only was the work load extraordinarily heavy, you also had a disagreement with your boss, and no matter how hard you tried he just wouldn't see your side of the situation.

You're really upset and the more you think about it the more up tight you become.

All of a sudden you start experiencing severe pain in your chest that starts to radiate out into your arm and up into your jaw. You are only about five miles from the hospital nearest you home, unfortunately you don't know if you'll be able to make it that far. What can you do? You've been trained in CPR but the guy that taught the course neglected to tell you how to perform it on yourself.

HOW TO SURVIVE A HEART ATTACK WHEN ALONE

(Since many people are alone when they suffer a heart attack, this article seemed in order.) Without help the person whose heart stops beating properly and who begins to feel faint, has only about 10 seconds left before losing consciousness. However,these victims can help themselves by coughing repeatedly and very vigorously. A deep breath should be taken before each cough, and the cough must be deep and prolonged, as when producing sputum from deep inside the chest. A breath and a cough must be repeated about every two seconds without let up until help arrives, or until the heart is felt to be beating normally again.

Deep breaths get oxygen into the lungs and coughing movements squeeze the heart and keep the blood circulating. The squeezing pressure on the heart also helps it regain normal rhythm. In this way, heart attack victims can get to a phone and, between breaths, call for help.

Tell as many other people as possible about this, it could save their lives!

Whenever stressed think of the most extreme picture of what if's and you will start to laugh and relax! Cheers!!!

I am a mother of three (ages 14,12, 3) and have recently completed My > college degree. The last class I had to take was Sociology. The teacher > was absolutely inspiring with the qualities that I wish every human > being had been graced with. > Her last project of the term > > was called "Smile." > > The class was asked to go out and smile at three people and document > their reactions. > > I am a very friendly person and always smile at everyone and say > helloanyway.....so, I thought, this would be a piece of cake literally. > >Soon after we were assigned the project, my husband, youngest son, > and I went out to McDonalds one crisp March morning. It was > just our way of sharing special play time with our son. We were > standing in line, waiting to be served, when all of a sudden everyone > around us began to back away, and then even my husband did. I did not > move an inch...an overwhelming feeling of panic welled up inside of me > as I turned to see why they had moved. > As I turned around I smelled a horrible "dirty body" smell... and there > standing > behind me were two poor homeless men. As I looked down at the short > gentleman close to me, he was "smiling". His beautiful sky blue eyes > were full of God's Light as he searched for acceptance. He said, > "Good day" > as he counted the few coins he had been clutching. > The second man fumbled with his hands as he stood behind his friend. > I realized the second man appeared to be mentally deficient and the > blue eyed gentleman was his salvation. I held mytears....as I stood > there with them. > > The young lady at the counter asked him what they wanted. He said, > "Coffee is all Miss" > because that was all they could afford. > To sit in the restaurant and warm up, they had to buy something...they > just wanted to be warm. Then I really felt it...the compulsion > was so great I almost reached out and embraced the little man with > the blue eyes. That is when I noticed all eyes in the restaurant were > set on me...judging my every action. I smiled and asked the young lady > behind the counter to give me two more breakfast meals on a separate > tray. > > I then walked around the corner to the table that the men had chosen > as a resting spot. I put the tray on the table and laid my hand on the > blue eyed gentleman's cold hand. He looked up at me, with tears in his > eyes, and said, "Thank you." I leaned over, began to pat his hand and > said, "I did not do this for you...God is here working through me > to give you hope." > > > I started to cry as I walked away to join my husband and son. When I > sat down my husband smiled at me and said, "That is why God gave you > to me honey....to give me hope." We held hands for a moment and at that > time we knew that only because of the Grace that we had been given > that we were able to give. We are not church goers but we are > > believers. That day showed me the pure Light of God's sweet love. > I returned to college, on the last evening of class, with this story in > hand. I turned in "my project" and the instructor read it....then she > looked up at me and said, "Can I share this?" > I slowly nodded as she got the attention of the class. She began to > read and that is when I knew that we, as human beings and being part > of God, share this need to heal people and be healed. In my > own way I had touched the people at McDonalds, my husband, son, > instructor, and every soul that sharedthe classroom on the last > night I spent as a college student. > I graduated with one of the biggest lessons I would ever > > learn.... UNCONDITIONAL ACCEPTANCE. > > > >Much love and compassion is being sent to each > > and every person who may read this. > Learn how to LOVE PEOPLE AND USE THINGS > - > > NOT LOVE THINGS AND USE PEOPLE.

>In case you haven't seen this yet, here is a useful bit of information for >Windows users. This is a fix for a Y2K problem that almost everyone should >do. You can do this while you are reading this message. > > Click the "Start" Button. > > Select "Setting" - "Control Panel". > > Double click on "Regional Settings" icon. > > Click on the "Date" tab at the top of the page. > > Where it says, "Short Date Sample", look and see if it shows a "two digit" > year (it probably does because that's the default setting for Windows 95, > Windows 98 and NT); this is the date that feeds your application > software. Unless you change it it will not rollover to the year 2000. It > will roll over to 00 and that is a source of potential trouble. To > correct it, follow these steps: > >Click on the scroll down arrow across from "Short Date Style" and select the > option that shows, mm/dd/yyyy. (Be sure your selection has four y's >showing, not two) > > Then click on "Apply" and then click on "OK" at the bottom. > > This is easy enough to fix. I don't know why Windows default system is set > up this way, but it surely is a potential problem. You are welcome to > forward this to anyone else who might find it useful.

The Unwritten Law of 'You' by Rick Beneteau

The Internet is a lawless frontier. Like the days of the Wild, Wild West, it is slow to establish any kind of order. There are now more webpages in the world than human beings. This uncontrolled binary overpopulation can leave newcomer Netrepreneurs dazed and confused as they attempt to tackle the fundamental question: "how can I even begin to compete in this new world forum?".

They KNOW they must, or be left in the RealWorld dust. They simply have to follow the world where the world is starting to shop - the Internet. Especially the business-to- business sector, where most of the Internet dollars are exchanged. But take heart, consumers will quickly follow as the first truly computer literate generation heads out the college doors to begin the shop-from-the-comfort-of-your-home trend, and, hopefully teach mom and dad, grandma and grandpa, and definitely their children that the Net is a relatively safe and obviously convenient place to purchase the goods and services we all require.

With that said, common sense dictates that the same set of business laws apply to CyberBusiness as do Mainstreet U.S.A. Although theoretically true, the Net can feel like an awesome, featureless, faceless landscape whose foundation is but countless trillions of zero's and one's. A lonely place, with an overabundance of mediocrity. And sadly to say, a disproportionate share over it's Realworld business brethren of sham, scam and flim-flam artists.

Lo and behold, there is an Unwritten Law that when applied to common sense marketing and basic webdesign applications (a lot of information on these subjects can be found in this forum), can make you shine like a beacon in this formidable universe. It is the "Law of You". As master of your corner of CybersSpace, you have the power to separate your website (your business) from the rest of the madding crowd. How? The answer is as simple as it is "big". Let me explain.

I have done enough surfing in my researching efforts to learn that there are 3 kinds of websites:

1. Those that don't say much of anything. 2. Those that speak at you. 3. Those that speak "to" you.

The latter group is few and far between in this ocean of bytes but they reach out and touch you like an old friend recounting childhood stories. They speak your language from the get-go, like a familiar song. You get a distinct sense of the website author/owner and with that comes an almost instant feeling of security and trust. An ongoing national insurance companies jingle, which we all can sing by rote - "Like a Good Neighbor..." comes to mind. Why is it that certain business websites can create this "these-are-good-guys" feeling? Simple. They project the personality of the business owner, or, YOU. I typically wonder who is behind a certain website that piques my interest. Did the owner care about how he presented this to me? Does he/she seem like a caring person, someone I would really like to do business with? What is his/her personality like? Sometimes I go to the extreme and guess if its' creator is a man or woman, younger or older, and would this person be the kind of person I could be friends with? I have the business affiliations in InterNiche.net mainly because this "good-guys" feeling happened to me. Be it in an email letter, business presentation or company website, I chose my partners based on the personalities they "originally" portrayed. Of course, other critical factors entered into my decisions, however, if I didn't get the "warm and fuzzies" along with the feeling that these companies offered great products/valuable services and, had all their business ducks in a row, well I simply would not be featuring them here. I chose partners that reflected my core business beliefs and basic personal philosophies. This "sense of personality" is key if your intention is to not only sell on the Internet, but keep selling. It is the Unwritten Law of You. As there are no hard and fast rules for this Law because businesses/websites vary greatly, the overall objective is to put as much of "you" in your online presentations as you can. Make people feel they are dealing with you face-to-face and not a million miles away in the dark of CyberSpace. Project the same friendliness you would afford them if they were standing right there at your counter or having coffee in your office. Speak to them in your website as you would on the street. Don't just display your product pics and descrips and hope they buy. Converse with them, project that warmth, make them feel like you're that "Good Neighbor". And "you will be there" come thick or thin because they are your customer. Be a person instead of a website. Sell yourself, not just your products. Follow the good advice you get at InterNiche.net (come back often because I'm always adding more) and elsewhere and apply my Unwritten Law and you will see results that will surely knock your cybersocks off!

(c) 1999 Rick Beneteau MY RESOURCE BOX Visit Rick's "New Niche on the Net": http://www.interniche.net/ Subscribe to Rick's highly-acclaimed newsletter, The Mirror: http://www.interniche.net/news.htm

Y2K MS-PC Patch For those of you running MS/Windows 95, 98 & NT, this is a fix for a small Y2K problem almost* everyone should do... Print this out and pass it on:

After making this quick little check, much to my surprise, I learned that all our computers would have gone "off-date" at 00:00:00:01 hrs on 01/01/2000 because Microsoft "set us up" for a "clock glitch".

Fortunately, a quick fix is provided, should your computer fail the check.

The Check -- for those using Win95, 98 & NT:

Double click on "My Computer".

Double click on "Control Panel".

Double click on "Regional settings" icon.

Click on the "Date" tab at the top of the page.

Where it says, "Short Date Sample", look and see if it shows a "two digit" year. Unless you've previously changed it -- it does. That's because Microsoft made the 2 digits the default setting for Windows 95, Windows 98 and NT.

This date RIGHT HERE is the date that feeds *ALL* application software and will not rollover into the year 2000. It will roll over to the year 00. (*)

Click on the button across from "Short Date Style" and select the option that shows, "mm/dd/yyyy" or "m/d/yyyy". (Be sure your selection has four y's showing, not just two).

Then click on "Apply".

Then click on "OK" at the bottom.

Pass this little verification along.

HELP A FRIEND!

A new virus named "WOBBLER" is on the loose! So just in case you do not know about it yet, please read the info below:

It can arrive as an e-mail titled "CALIFORNIA". IBM and AOL have announced that it is VERY powerful, more so than the "Melissa" virus.......AND there is no remedy for it, as yet. It will EAT all your information on the hard drive and also destroys all the Netscape Navigator/Communicator and Microsoft Internet Explorer browser versions.

Please do not open anything with this title and please pass this message on to all your Internet contacts and anyone who uses your e-mail facility.

Not many people seem to know about this yet, so propagate it as fast is possible!

Bill

 Helpful hints---uses for Bounce.

 Repels mosquitoes. Tie a sheet of Bounce through a belt loop when outdoors during mosquito season.  Eliminates static electricity from your television screen. Since Bounce is designed to help eliminate static cling, wipe your television screen with a used sheet of Bounce to keep dust from resettling.  Dissolves soap scum from shower doors. Clean with a used sheet of Bounce.  Freshens the air in your home. Place an individual sheet of Bounce in a drawer or hang one in the closet.  Prevents thread from tangling. Run a threaded needle through a sheet of Bounce to eliminate the static cling on the thread before sewing.  Eliminates static cling from pantyhose. Rub a damp, used sheet of Bounce over the hose.  Prevents musty suitcases. Place an individual sheet of Bounce inside empty luggage before storing.  Freshens the air in your car. Place a sheet of Bounce under the front seat.  Cleans baked-on food from a cooking pan. Put a sheet in the pan, fill with water, let sit overnight, and sponge clean. The antistatic agents apparently weaken the bond between the food and the pan while the fabric softening agents soften the baked-on food.  Eliminates odors in wastebaskets. Place a sheet of Bounce at the bottom of the wastebasket.  Collects cat hair. Rubbing the area with a sheet of Bounce will magnetically attract all the loose hairs.  Eliminates static electricity from venetian blinds. Wipe the blinds with a sheet of Bounce to prevent dust from resettling.  Wipes up sawdust from drilling or sandpapering. A used sheet of Bounce will collect sawdust like a tack cloth.  Eliminates odors in dirty laundry. Place an individual sheet of Bounce at the bottom of a laundry bag or hamper.  Deodorizes shoes or sneakers. Place a sheet of Bounce in your shoes or sneakers overnight so they'll smell great in the morning.

 It was a sweltering August day when the Cohen brothers entered the posh Dearborn, Michigan, offices of Henry Ford. "Mr.. Ford," announced Norman Cohen, the eldest of the three. "We have a remarkable invention that will revolutionize the automobile industry." Ford looked skeptical, but their threat to offer it to the competition kept his interest. "We would like to demonstrate it to you in person." They brought Mr.. Ford outside and asked him to enter a black automobile parked in front of the building. Hyman Cohen, the middle brother, opened the door of the car. "Please step inside, Mr.. Ford. "What!!!" shouted the tycoon, "Are you crazy? It must be two hundred degrees in that car!!" "It is," smiled the youngest brother, Max, "but sit down, Mr.. Ford, and push the white button." Intrigued, Ford pushed the button. All of a sudden a whoosh of freezing air started blowing from vents all around the car, and within seconds the automobile was not only comfortable, it was quite cool. "This is amazing!" exclaimed Ford. "How much do you want for the patent." Norman spoke up, "The price is one million dollars." Then he paused. "And there is something else. The name "Cohen Brothers Air-conditioning" must be stamped right next to the Ford logo!" "Money is no problem," retorted Ford, "but there is no way will I have a Jewish name next to my logo on my cars!!' They haggled back and forth for a while and finally they settled. Five million dollars, but the Cohens' last name would be left off. However, the FIRST names of the Cohen brothers would be forever emblazoned upon the console of every Ford air conditioning system. And that is why, even today, whenever you enter a Ford vehicle, you will see those three names clearly printed on the air conditioning control panel:  NORM, HI and MAX.

Subject: Re: Scam Warning >>>> > >> >>>> > >> >>>> > >> > > > IMPORTANT,PLEASE READ >>>> > >> > > > PLEASE FORWARD THIS TO PEOPLE ON YOUR >>>> > >> > > > LISTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! >>>> > >> > > > DO NOT EVER DIAL AREA CODE 809 >>>> > >> > > > SCAM: Don't Respond To Emails, Phone Calls, Or Pages Which >>Tell >>>> >You >>>> > >To >>>> > >> > > > Call An "809" Phone Number >>>> > >> > > > This is a very important issue of Internet ScamBusters! >>because >>>> >it >>>> > >> > > > alerts you to a scam that is: spreading extremely quickly, >can >>>> > >easily >>>> > >> > > > cost you $100 or more, and is difficult to avoid unless >you >>are >>>> > >aware >>>> > >> > > > of it. We'd like to thank Paul Bruemmer and Brian Stains >for >>>> > >bringing >>>> > >> > > > this scam to our attention. This scam has also been >identified >>>by >>>> > >the >>>> > >> > > > National Fraud Information Center and is costing victims a >lot >>>of >>>> > >> > > > money. >>>> > >> > > > There are lots of different permutations of this scam, but >>here >>>> >is >>>> > >how >>>> > >> > > > it works: Permutation #1: Internet Based Phone Scam Via >Email. >>>> >You >>>> > >> > > > receive an email, typically with a subject line of "ALERT" >or >>>> > >"Unpaid >>>> > >> > > > Account." The message, which is being spammed across the >net, >>>> >says: >>>> > >I >>>> > >> > > > am writing to give you a final 24hrs to settle your >>outstanding >>>> > >> account. >>>> > >> > > > If I have not received the settlement in full, I will >commence >>>> > >legal >>>> > >> > > > proceedings without further delay. If you would to discuss >>this >>>> > >matter >>>> > >> > > > to avoid court action, call Mike Murray, Global >Communications >>>at >>>> > >> > > > (809)496-2700. Permutation #2: Phone Or Pager Scam. >>>> > >> > > > You receive a message on your answering machine or your >pager >>>> >which >>>> > >> > > > asks you to call a number beginning with area code 809. >The >>>> >reason >>>> > >to >>>> > >> > > > you're asked to call varies: it can be to receive >information >>>> > >about a >>>> > >> > > > family member who has been ill, to tell you someone has >been >>>> > >arrested, >>>> > >> > > dead, or to let you know you have won a wonderful prize, >etc. >In >>>> >each >>>> > >> case, >>>> > >> > > you're told to call the 809 number right away. Since there >are >>so >>>> > >many >>>> > >> new >>>> > >> > > area codes these days, people unknowingly return these >calls. >If >>>> >you >>>> > >> call >>>> > >> > > from the US, you will apparently be charged $25 per-minute! >>>> > >> > > > Sometimes the person who answers the phone will speak >broken >>>> > >English >>>> > >> > > > and pretend not to understand you. Other times, you'll >just >>>get >>>> >a >>>> > >> long >>>> > >> > > recorded message. The point is, they will try to keep you on >the >>>> > >phone >>>> > >> as >>>> > >> > > long as possible to increase the charges. >>>> > >> > > > >>>> > >> > > > Unfortunately, when you get your phone bill, you'll often >be >>>> > >charged >>>> > >> > > > more than $100! Here's why it works: The 809 area code is >>>located >>>> > >in >>>> > >> > > > the British Virgin Islands (the Bahamas). The 809 area >code >>can >>>> >be >>>> > >> used as >>>> > >> > > a "pay-per-call" number, similar to 900 numbers in the US. >Since >>>> >809 >>>> > >is >>>> > >> not >>>> > >> > > in the US, it is not covered by US regulations of 900 >numbers, >>>> >which >>>> > >> require >>>> > >> > > that you be notified and warned of charges and rates >involved >>>when >>>> > >you >>>> > >> call >>>> > >> > > a "pay-per-call" number. There is also no requirement that >the >>>> > >company >>>> > >> > > provide a time period during which you may terminate the >call >>>> >without >>>> > >> being >>>> > >> > > charged. Further, whereas many US phones have 900 number >>blocking >>>> >(to >>>> > >> avoid >>>> > >> > > these kinds of charges), 900 number blocking will not >prevent >>>calls >>>> > >to >>>> > >> the >>>> > >> > > 809 area code. We recommend that no matter how you get the >>>message, >>>> > >if >>>> > >> you >>>> > >> > > are asked to call a number with an 809 area code that you >don't >>>> > >> recognize, >>>> > >> > > investigate further and/or disregard the message. Be very >wary >>of >>>> > >email >>>> > >> or >>>> > >> > > calls asking you to call an 809 area code number. It's >important >>>to >>>> > >> prevent >>>> > >> > > becoming a victim of this scam, since trying to fight the >>charges >>>> > >> afterwards >>>> > >> > > can become a real nightmare. That's because you did actually >>make >>>> >the >>>> > >> call. >>>> > >> > > If you complain, both your local phone company and your long >>>> >distance >>>> > >> > > carrier will not want to get involved and will most likely >tell >>>you >>>> > >that >>>> > >> > > they are simply providing the billing for the foreign >company. >>>> >You'll >>>> > >> end up >>>> > >> > > dealing with a foreign company that argues they have done >>nothing >>>> > >wrong. >>>> > >> > > > >>>> > >> > > > Please forward this entire issue of Internet ScamBusters! >to >>>your >>>> > >> > > > friends, family and colleagues to help them become aware >of >>>this >>>> > >scam >>>> > >> > > > so they don't get ripped off. >>> >

My daughter & I had just finished a salad at Neiman-Marcus Cafe in > >Dallas & decided to have a small dessert. Because both of us are > >such cookie lovers, we decided to try the Neiman-Marcus Cookie". > >It was so excellent that I asked if they would give me the recipe > >and the waitress said with a small frown,"I'm afraid not." Well, I > >said, would you let me buy the recipe? With a cute smile, she said, > >"Yes." I asked how much, and she responded, "Only two fifty, it's a > >great deal!" I said with approval, "just add it to my tab." Thirty > >days later, I received my VISA statement from Neiman-Marcus and it > >was $285.00. I looked again and I remembered I had only spent > >$9.95 for two salads and about $20.00 for a scarf. As I glanced > >at the, bottom of the statement, it said, "Cookie Recipe - > >$250.00." That's outrageous!! I called Neiman's Accounting Dept. > >and told them the waitress said it was "two-fifty," which clearly > >does not mean "two hundred fifty" by any *POSSIBLE* interpretation > >of the phrase. Nieman-Marcus refused to budge. They would not > >refund my money, because according to them, "What the waitress told > >you is not our problem. You have already seen the recipe -we > >absolutely will not refund your money at this point." I explained > >to her the criminal statutes which govern fraud in Texas, and I > >threatened to refer them to the Better Business Bureau and the > >State's Attorney General for engaging in fraud. I was basically > >told, "Do what you want, we don't give a crap, and we're not > >refunding your money."I waited, thinking of how I could get even, > >or even try and my money back. I just said, "Okay, you folks got my > >$250, and now I'm going to have $250.00 worth of fun." I told her > >that was going to see to it that every cookie lover in the United > >States with an e-mail account has a $250.00 cookie recipe from > >Neiman Marcus for free. She replied, "I wish you wouldn't do > >this." I said, "Well, you should have thought of that before you > >ripped me off, and slammed down the phone on her. > >So, here it is!!! Please, please, please pass it on to everyone > >you can possibly think of. I paid $250 dollars for this.. I don't > >want Nieman-Marcus to *ever* get another penny off of this recipe. > > > >"Neiman-Marcus Cookie". (Recipe may be halved.): > >2 cups butter > >4 cups flour > >2 tsp. soda > >2 cups sugar > >5 cups blended oatmeal > >24 oz. chocolate chips > >2 cups brown sugar > >1 tsp. salt > >1 8 oz. Hershey Bar (grated) > >4 eggs > >2 tsp. baking powder > >2 tsp. vanilla > >3 cups chopped nuts (your choice) > >Measure oatmeal and blend in a blender to a fine powder. > >Cream the butter and both sugars. > >Add eggs and vanilla; mix together with flour, oatmeal, salt, > >baking powder, and soda. > >Add chocolate chips, Hershey Bar and nuts. Roll into balls and > >place two inches apart on a cookie sheet. > >Bake for 10 minutes at 375 degrees. Makes 112 cookies. *Have > >fun!!! This is *not* a joke --- this is a true story. The cookies are great!

In 1944, 50 black sailors whose job was to load munitions, were convicted of mutiny in the aftermath of a blast that killed 320 men. Some say the truth has never come out.

At the mouth of the Sacramento River, where the current flows into San Pablo Bay and then out to sea, a cataclysmic explosion obliterated two Navy ships, leveled a town and killed 320 men, 202 of whom were black.

The blast, at 10:18 p.m. on July 17, 1944, was the equivalent of five kilotons of TNT and forever changed the Navy and the lives of hundreds of survivors.

For days afterward, surviving black sailors - many of them teen-agers - were assigned the grim task of retreving the dismembered bodies of friends and comrades killed in a blast as forceful as the atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima.

"It was terrible," said Freddie Meeks, a black who was at the illfated former Port Chicago Naval Depot, about 45 miles southeast of Sacramento. "We had to stand watch over (the bodies) and they didn't know who was who. We would just shove body parts into this basket-like thing and cover them up".

"You couldn't tell black from white."

In fact, the carnage was so great only 51 bodies could be identified. And while white officers at the racially segregated depot were given a leave in the aftermath of the explosion, the black sailors were forced to keep working.

And within 24 days, Meeks and 257 other traumatized, young black men were ordered to begin loading bombs, shells and depth charges on Navy ships again. There was no explanation for the explosion, no acknowledgment of their grief. As before the explosion, no white sailors were ordered to load ammunition.

When the black sailors resisted, a Navy admiral threatened to line them before a firing squad, had them arrested and placed all 258 in the cargo hold of a barge on San Pable Bay - a space meant to hold 75 people.

"The scene conjured up images of a slave ship," said Robert Allen, a sociologist and writer based in Oakland. Under this coercion, 208 men agreed to return to work. Fifty, including Meeks, still refused.

Those men were charged with mutiny in a makeshift courtroom on Treasure Island, with a panoramic view of San Francisco as a backdrop. In fact, the case was tried and resolved in a month, with the men convicted after 80 minutes of deliberations by an all-white Navy panel.

"They deliberated over lunch," Allen said.

It was the largest court-martial for mutiny in the history of the Navy.

Now, 53 years later, the Port Chicago disaster and aftermath remain largely forgotten and appear destined for historical limbo.

"It's really sad," said Allen, author of the 1989 book, "The Port Chicago Mutiny," the only definitive account of the incident.

"I had really hoped to get somthing done for the survivors before they passed away, but I don't know if that is going to happen."

Indeed, many of the black sailors convicted of mutiny at Port Chicago already have died, still bearing dishornorable discharges, having never received military pensions, unsuccessful in efforts to get pardons.

While their case was a key to ending segragation in the Navy, the convicted men of Port Chicago have received little recognition for risking their lives for a principle long before there was a civil rights movement in America.

Instead, most scattered across the country after their prison sentences were cut short in 1946 - largely through the help of the late Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall, who at the time was general counsel for the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People.

Most, like Meeks, carried the shame of Port Chicago for years. Now 77 and living in Los Angeles, Meeks concealed his ordeal from his children until they were grown.

"I didn't want them to find out their dad was tried for mutiny," said Meeds, now a retired Los Angeles County worker. "I didn't talk about it for years, and when I did, it hurt deep down inside. When I came out of prison, I had to lie to get a job because, if I told anyone I had been imprisioned, they would have never hired me."

In interviews with other survivors like Meeks, there is no consensus on why the Port Chicago story seemingly fell off America's history pages.

At the time of the explosion, the story was bumped off the from pages after a few days by the unrelenting news from the war.

And because the protest by the Port Chicago men took place before such watershed events as Jackie Robinson integrating baseball, it did not stoke the kind of passion that would fuel the civil rights movement 20 years later.

Additionally, court documents and other evidence of the Port Chicago story were sealed and classified by the Navy until 1972, Allen said. Even the cause of the explosion was never determined.

So by the 1970s and 1980s, when Alen began his research and drew new attention to the Port Chicago case, the damage had already been done, survivors had begun to die and others simply wanted to move on.

For a time, it appeared that the convicted Port Chicago sailors would get the redemption they had sought for so many years. In 1994, on the 50th anniversary of the explosion, 24 members of Congress demanded the U.S. Navy "ameliorate an unsavory chapter" and re-examine the Port Chicago case.

But despite the campaign, the dedication of a new national monument commemorating the Port Chicago explosion and unprecdented publicity, the Navy declined to pardon the 50 sailors convicted of mutiny.

"The secretary of the Navy concluded that neither reacial prejudice nor other improper factors tainted the original investigation and trials," said a Navy spokesman.

"There never would have been a mutiny had the authorities taken the time to assemble the men and advise them on how what they were doing was important," said Robert Routh, a black sailor who was blinded at age 19 when the explosion sent glass from shattered windows flying through his barracks. "You can imagine what it does to young men of 21 or 22 when, on the night of the explosion, they found the decapitated bodies of fellow sailors.

"No attempts were made to pacify them. No leaves were given but the white officers were granted leaves."

Appeals to President Clinton have so far gone unanswered.

Allen and others hope that one day a presidential pardon will come, particularly in light of facts not in dispute; that black sailors were the only ones forced to load ammunition, that they and their officers were poorly trained and that the Navy forced traumatized men to do something that had just killed hundreds of their comrades.

(from The Press-Enterprise August 3, 1997)

Here's a little story for Christmas 1999 from Carole:

I hurried into the local department store to > > > grab some last-minute Christmas gifts. I looked at > > > all the people and grumbled to myself. I would be in > > > here forever, and I just had so much to do. Christmas > > > was beginning to become such a drag. I kinda wished > > > that I could just sleep through Christmas. But I hurried > > > the best I could through all the people to the the toy > > > department. > > > > > > Once again, I kind of mumbled to myself at the > > > prices of all these toys, And I wondered if the > > > grandkids would even play with them. I found myself > > > in the doll aisle. > > > > > > Out of the corner of my eye I saw a little boy, > > > about 5 years old, holding a lovely doll. He kept > > > touching her hair, and he held her so gently. I > > > could not seem to help myself. I just kept looking > > > over at the little boy and wondered who the doll was > > > for. I watched him turn to a woman; and he called > > > his aunt by name and said, "Are you sure I don't > > > have enough money?" > > > She replied a bit impatiently, "You know that > > > you don't have enough money for it." > > > > > > The aunt told the little boy not to go anywhere, > > > that she had to go get some other things and would > > > be back in a few minutes. And then she left the aisle. > > > > > > The boy continued to hold the doll. > > > > > > After a bit, I asked the boy who the doll was > > > for. He said, "It is the doll my sister wanted > > > so badly for Christmas. She just knew that Santa would > > > bring it." I told him that maybe Santa was going > > > to bring it. He said,"No, Santa can't go where my sister > > > is...I have to give the doll to my Mamma to take > > > to her." I asked him where his sister was. He looked at > > > me with the saddest eyes and said, "She has gone to be with > > > Jesus. My Daddy says that Mama is going to have to go be with her." > > > > > > My heart nearly stopped beating. Then the boy > > > looked at me again and said, "Itold my Daddy to tell > > > Mama not to go yet. I told him to tell her to wait > > > till I got back from the store." > > > > > > Then he asked me if I wanted to see his picture. > > > I told him I would love to. He pulled out some pictures > > > he had taken at the front of the store. > > > > > > He said, "I want my Mamma to take this with her > > > so she don't ever forget me. I love my Mama so very > > > much, and I wish she did not have to leave me. > > > But Daddy says she will need to be with my sister." > > > I saw that the little boy had lowered his head > > > and had grown so very quiet. > > > > > > While he was not looking, I reached into my > > > purse and pulled out a handful of bills. I asked > > > the little boy, "Shall we count that money one more > > > time?" He grew excited and said "Yes, I just know it has > > > to be enough." So I slipped my money in with his, and we > > > began to count it. Of course, it was plenty for the doll. > > > He softly said, "Thank you, Jesus, for giving me enough money." > > > > > > Then the boy said, "I just asked Jesus to give me enough > > > money to buy this doll so Mama can take it with her to give > > > to my sister. And He heard my prayer. I wanted to ask Him > > > for enough to buy my Mamma a white rose, but Ididn't ask > > > Him; but He gave me enough to buy the doll and a rose for my > > > Mama. She loves white roses so very, very much." > > > > > > In a few minutes the aunt came back, and I wheeled my cart away. > > > I could not keep from thinking about the little boy as I > > > finished my shopping in a totally different spirit than when > > > I had started. And I kept remembering astory I had seen in the > > > newspaper several days earlier about a drunk driver hitting a > > > car and killing a little girl, and the Mother was in serious > > > condition. The family was deciding on whether to remove the life > > > support. Now surely this little boy did not belong with that > > > story. > > > > > > Two days later, I read in the paper where the family had disconnected > > > the life support; and the young woman had died. I could not forget the > > > little boy and just kept wondering if the two were somehow connected. > > > > > > Later that day, I could not help myself; and I went out and bought > > > some white roses and took them to the funeral home where the young > > > woman was. And there she was, holding a lovely white rose, the > > > beautiful doll, and the picture of the little boy in the store. > > > > > > I left the funeral parlor in tears ... my life changed forever. > > > The love that little boy had for his little sister and his > > > mother was overwhelming. And in a split second, a drunk driver > > > had ripped the life of that little boy to pieces.

The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry >to reopen a church in urban Brooklyn, arrived in early October. > >The church was very run down and needed work. They set a goal to have >everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve. > >They were almost finished working when a 2-day rainstorm hit. The >pastor's heart sunk when he went to the church after the storm and saw >that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 6 x 8 >feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary. > >The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else >to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he >noticed that a local business was having a flea market type sale for >charity so he stopped in. > >One of the items was a beautiful, hand-made, ivory colored, crocheted >table cloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a cross embroidered >right in the center. It was just the right size to cover up the hole in >the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church. By this >time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the >opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. >The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus >45 minutes later. She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the >pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc. to put up the tablecloth as a >wall tapestry. >The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up >the entire problem area. > >Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was >like a sheet. "Pastor," she asked, "Where did you get that tablecloth?" > >The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right >corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They >were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this >tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria. > >The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just >gotten the tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she and >her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, >she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next >week. >She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home >again. > >The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth, but she made the pastor >keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home; that >was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island >and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job. > >What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was >almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the >service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many >said that they would return. One older man, whom the pastor recognized >from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, >and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving. The man asked him where >he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one >that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the >war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike? He told the >pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her >safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put >in a concentration camp. He never saw his wife or his home again for all >the 35 years in between. > >The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. >They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had >taken >the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of >stairs to the woman's apartment, >knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever >imagine. > >True Story-submitted by Pastor Rob Reid

you can't fight facts with facts, you must fight facts with Truth

The Emergency Room > > I am a doctor specializing in Emergency Medicine in the > Emergency Departments of the only two military Level One > trauma centers. They are both in San Antonio, TX and they > care for civilian emergencies as well as military personnel. > > San Antonio has the largest military retiree population > in the world living here because of the location of these > two large military medical centers. > > As a military doctor in training for my specialty, I work > long hours and the pay is less than glamorous. One tends > to become jaded by the long hours, lack of sleep, food, > family contact and the endless parade of human suffering > passing before you. The arrival of another ambulance does > not mean more pay, only more work. > > Most often it is a victim from a motor vehicle crash. Often > it is a person of dubious character who has been shot or > stabbed. With our large military retiree population it is > often a nursing home patient. > > Even with my enlisted service and minimal combat experience > in Panama prior to medical school, I have caught myself > groaning when the ambulance brought in yet another sick, > elderly person from one of the local retirement centers > that cater to military retirees. > > I had not stopped to think of what citizens of this age > group represented. > > I saw "Saving Private Ryan." I was touched deeply. Not so > much by the carnage in the first 30 minutes but by the > sacrifices of so many. I was touched most by the scene > of the elderly survivor at the graveside asking his wife > if he'd been a good man. > > I realized that I had seen these same men and women > coming through my Emergency Dept. and had not realized > what magnificent sacrifices they had made. > > The things they did for me and everyone else that has > lived on this planet since the end of that conflict are > priceless. > > Situation permitting, I now try to ask my patients about > their experiences. > > They would never bring up the subject without the inquiry. > I have been privileged to an amazing array of experiences > recounted in the brief minutes allowed in an Emergency > Dept. encounter. These experiences have revealed the > incredible individuals I have had the honor of serving in > a medical capacity, many on their last admission to the > hospital. > > There was a frail, elderly woman who reassured my young > enlisted medic trying to start an IV line in her arm. She > remained calm and poised despite her illness and the > multiple needle-sticks into her fragile veins. She was what > we call a "hard stick." As the medic made another attempt > I noticed a number tattooed across her forearm. I touched > it with one finger and looked into her eyes. She simply said > "Auschwitz." Many of later generations would have loudly > and openly berated the young medic in his many attempts. > How different was the response from this person who'd seen > unspeakable suffering. > > A long retired Colonel who as a young officer had parachuted > from his burning plane over a Pacific Island held by the > Japanese. Now an octogenarian, his head cut in a fall at > home where he lived alone. His CT scan and suturing had been > delayed until after midnight by the usual parade of high > priority ambulance patients. Still spry for his age, he asked > to use the phone to call a taxi to take him home then realized > his ambulance had brought him without his wallet. He asked > if he could use the phone to make a long distance call to his > daughter who lived 7 miles away. With great pride we told him > > hat he could not as he'd done enough for his country and the > least we could do was get him a taxi home, even if we had to > pay for it ourselves. My only regret was that my shift > wouldn't end for several hours and I couldn't drive him myself. > > I was there the night MSgt Roy Benavidez came through the > Emergency Dept. for the last time. He was very sick. I was not > the doctor taking care of him but I walked to his bedside and > took his hand. I said nothing. He was so sick he didn't know > I was there. I'd read his Congressional Medal of Honor > citation and wanted to shake his hand. He died a few days > later. > > The gentleman who served with Merrill's Marauders, the > survivor of the Baatan Death March, the survivor Omaha Beach, > the 101 year old World War 1 veteran, the former POW held > in frozen North Korea, the former Special Forces medic now > with non-operable liver cancer, the former Viet Nam Corps > Commander. > > I remember these citizens. I may still groan when yet another > ambulance comes in but now I am much more aware of what an > honor it is to serve these particular men and women. I am > angered at the cut backs, implemented and proposed, that will > continue to decay their meager retirement benefits. > > I see the President and Congress who would turn their back > on these individuals who've sacrificed so much to protect > our liberty. > > I see later generations that seem to be totally engrossed > in abusing these same liberties won with such sacrifice. It > has become my personal endeavor to make the nurses and young > enlisted medics aware of these amazing individuals when I > encounter them in our Emergency Dept. Their response to > these particular citizens has made me think that perhaps > all is not lost in the next generation. > > My experiences have solidified my belief that we are losing > an incredible generation and this nation knows not what it > is losing. Our un-caring government and ungrateful civilian > populace should all take note. > > We should all remember that we must "Earn this." > > Written By: > CPT. Stephen R. Ellison, M.D. > > (If you send this story along to friends, please > include the author's name. Thank you!)

Saturday Mornings/Marbles Bill Thomas

The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it's the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it's the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable.

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the basement shack with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning, turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time. Let me tell you about it.

I turned the dial up into the phone portion of the band on my ham radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning swap net.

Along the way, I came across an older sounding chap, with a tremendous signal and a golden voice. You know the kind, he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business. He was telling whoever he was talking with something about "a thousand marbles."

I was intrigued and stopped to listen to what he had to say.

"Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you're busy with your job. I'm sure they pay you well but it's a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad you missed your daughter's dance recital."

He continued, "Let me tell you something Tom, something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities." And that's when he began to explain his theory of a "thousand marbles."

"You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years."

"Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900 which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their entire lifetime. Now stick with me Tom, I'm getting to the important part."

"It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in any detail," he went on, "and by that time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy."

"So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to round-up 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container right here in the shack next to my gear. Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away."

"I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really important things in life. There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight."

"Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure if I make it until next Saturday then I have been given a little extra time. And the one thing we can all use is a little more time."

"It was nice to meet you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your family, and I hope to meet you again here on the band. 75 year Old Man, this is K9NZQ, clear and going QRT, good morning!"

You could have heard a pin drop on the band when this fellow signed off.

I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to work on the antenna that morning, and then I was going to meet up with a few hams to work on the next club newsletter. Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a kiss. "C'mon honey, I'm taking you and the kids to breakfast."

"What brought this on?" she asked with a smile. "Oh, nothing special, it's just been a long time since we spent a Saturday together with the kids."

Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we're out? I need to buy some marbles."

HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND AND MAY ALL YOUR SATURDAYS BE SPECIAL!!!!!!!!! Work like you don't need the money... Love like you've never been hurt... Dance like nobody's watching... Sing like nobody can hear you

Author Unknown

Bill Thomas "The Write Track"

Charter Member of IAPO Bill Thomas is Editor/Publisher of "The Write Track" Ezine. Subscribers can email thomasco1@thomasco1.com?subject=subscribe Wtrack Home Page http://www.thomasco1.com/wtrack He also owns the resource site "The Inner Sanctum" at http://www.thomasco1.com/sanctum1.html Interested in Free Websites? Free Educational Courses? Go to: http://www.thomasco1.com

An egg, a bagel, a slice of ham walk into a bar. The egg calls out to the bartender, "We'll have three beers!!" The bartender looks at the three of them and replies, "I'm sorry, we don't serve breakfast here."

You twice misspelled "genealogy " on your Web Page. Or are you spelling it phonetically? Love your WP.

The Boys of Iwo Jima By Michael T. Powers

Each year I am hired to go to Washington DC with the eighth grade class from Clinton, WI where I grew up, to videotape their trip. I greatly enjoy visiting our nation's capitol, and each year I take some special memories back with me. This fall's trip was especially memorable.

On the last night of our trip we stopped at the Iwo Jima memorial. This memorial is the largest bronze statue in the world and depicts one of the most famous photographs in history - that of the six brave soldiers raising the American Flag at the top of a rocky hill on the Island of Iwo Jima, Japan during WW II. Over one hundred students and chaperones Piled off the buses and headed towards the memorial. I noticed a solitary Figure at the base of the statue, and as I got closer he asked, "Where are You guys from?" I told him that we were from Wisconsin. "Hey, I'm a cheeshead too! Come gather around Cheeseheads, and I will tell you a story."

(James Bradley just happened to be in Washington DC to speak at the memorial the following day. He was there that night to say good night to his dad, who has since passed away. He was just about to leave when he saw the buses pull up. I videotaped him as he spoke to us, and received his permission to share what he said from my videotape. It is one thing to tour the incredible monuments filled with history in Washington DC. But it is quite another to get the kind of insight we received that night.

When all had gathered around he reverently began to speak. Here are his words That night.)

"My name is James Bradley and I'm from Antigo, Wisconsin. My dad is on that statue, and I just wrote a book called "Flags of Our Father's" which is #5 on the New York Times Best Seller list right now. It is the story of the six boys you see behind me. Six boys raised the flag.

The first guy putting the pole in the ground is Harlon Block. Harlon was an all-state footballplayer. He enlisted in the Marine Corp with all the senior members of his football team. They were off to play another type of game. A game called "War." But it didn't turn out to be a game. Harlon, at the age of 21, died with his intestines in his hands. I don't say that to gross you out, I say that because there are generals who stand in front of this statue and talk about the glory of war. You guys need to know that most of the boys in Iwo Jima were 17, 18, and 19 years old. (He pointed to the statue)

You see this next guy? That's Rene Gagnon from new Hampshire. If you took Rene's helmet off at the moment this photo was taken, and looked in the webbing of that helmet, you would find a photograph. A photograph of his girlfriend. Rene put that in their for protection, because he Was scared. He was 18 years old. Boys won the battle of Iwo Jima. Boys. Not old men.

The next guy here, the third guy in this tableau, was Sergeant Mike Strank. Mike is my hero. He was the hero of all these guys. They called him the "old man" because he was so old. He was already 24. When Mike would motivate his boys in training camp, he didn't say, "Let's go kill some Japanese" or "Let's die for our country." He knew he was talking to little boys. Instead he would say, "You do what I say, and I'll get you home to your mothers."

The last guy on this side of the statue is Ira Hayes, a Pema Indian from Arizona. Ira Hayes walked off Iwo Jima. He went into the White House with my dad. President Truman told him, "You're a hero." He told reporters, "How can I feel like a hero when 250 of my buddies hit the Island with me and only 27 of us walked off alive?" So you take your class at school. 250 of you spending a year together having fun, doing everything together. Then all 250 of you hit the beach, but only 27 of your classmates walk off alive. That was Ira Hayes. He had images of horror in his mind. Ira Hayes died dead drunk, face down at the age of 32. Ten years after this picture was taken.

The next guy, going around the statue is Franklin Sousley from Hilltop , Kentucky. A fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. His best friend, who is now 70 told me, "Yeah you know, we took two cows up on the porch of the Hilltop General Store. Then we strung wire across the stairs so the cows couldn't get down. Then we fed them Epson salts. Those cows crapped all night." Yes, he was a fun-lovin' hillbilly boy. Franklin died on Iwo Jima at the age of 19. When the telegram came to tell his mother that he was dead, it went to the Hilltop General Store. A barefoot boy ran that telegram up to his mother's farm. The neighbors could hear her scream all night and into the morning. The neighbors lived a quarter of a mile away.

The next guy, as we continue to go around the statue is my dad, John Bradley from Antigo, Wisconsin, where I was raised. My dad lived until 1994, but he would never give interviews. When Walter Kronkite's producers, or the New York Times would call, we were trained as little kids to say, "No, I'm sorry sir, my dad's not here. He is in Canada fishing. No, there is no phone there sir. No, we don't know when he is coming back."

My dad never fished or even went to Canada. Usually he was sitting there right at the table eating his Campbell's soup. But we had to tell the press that he was out fishing. He didn't want to talk to the press.

You see, my dad didn't see himself as a hero. Everyone thinks these guys are heroes, 'cause they are in a photo and a monument. My dad knew better. He was a medic. John Bradley from Wisconsin was a caregiver. In Iwo Jima he probably held over 200 boys as they died. And when boys died in Iwo Jima, they writhed and screamed in pain.

When I was a little boy, my third grade teacher told me that my dad was a hero. When I went home and told my dad that, he looked at me and said, "I want you always to remember that the heroes of Iwo Jima are the guys who did not come back. DID not come back."

So that's the story about six nice young boys. Three died on Iwo Jima, and three came back as national heroes. Overall 7000 boys died on Iwo Jima in the worst battle in the history of the Marine Corps. My voice is giving out, so I will end here. Thank you for your time."

Suddenly the monument wasn't just a big old piece of metal with a flag sticking out of the top. It came to life before our eyes with the heartfelt words of son who did indeed have a father who was a hero. Maybe not a hero for the reasons most people would believe, but a hero none-the-less.

welcome

Living on earth is expensive, but it does include a free trip around the sun every year.

Laundry One day my housework-challenged husband decided to wash his sweatshirt. Seconds after he stepped into the laundry room, he shouted to me, "What setting do I use on the washing machine?" "It depends," I replied. "What does it say on your shirt?" He yelled back, "Miami Dolphins"

JESUS Loves You!!!

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