Why Reagan Was The Greatest President In My Time

In practical terms, "Reaganomics" has to be considered one of the reasons that Reagan has come to be thought of as a great president. Reaganomics created an unmatched period of economic prosperity. It was only the Democratic-controlled congress' insistence on continuing to raise wasteful government spending beyond the means that even this economic boom would support that cut sort the prosperity that Reaganomics brought.

It was also Reagan who rebuilt our military, after his predecessor had practically destroyed it through neglect.

It was Reagan's policies that so weakened our greatest enemy of that time, the Soviet Union, to the point where it fell apart not long thereafter.

It was Reagan's policies that stopped the spread of Communism in Latin America before it became a direct threat to us. To understand how important this is, consider the problems we now have with illegal immigrants from Mexico, and then try to imagine how it would be if these illegal immigrants were Communists intent on bringing Communism with them into our country.

It was Reagan who made America strong again, after the previous administration saw America weakened and humiliated.

Not to mention the Berlin Wall being torn down!

Aside from his practical accomplishments, Reagan's personality almost certainly had a great deal to do with his perceived greatness. He was "The Great Communicator". His speeches rang with optimism and comfort and patriotism. After the humiliating Carter years, Reagan made us again feel proud to be Americans, and confident in our nation's future.

Birthday Road Trip 2010

The day began with cooking up some waffles on the brand new griddle. They were quite tasty. We were all packed and ready to go. Denielle said she would do the driving. Our first quest was to find a man made out of plastic barrels. That was so challenging that we gave up trying to find him. Oh well, on to the next stop we went. The John Dillinger Museum was pretty interesting with interactive displays and original artifacts from the Depression Era and his life. Together we learned gangster vocabulary words, I wore a bulletproof vest, spent a little time in jail right after getting fingerprinted. There were even life-sized wax figures of famous gangsters during that era. Overall, this was a neat experience. Next to the museum was an art display called “From Trash to Treasure.” This was also a fun little display of household items found in junkyards and transformed into works of art. So much for visiting Hammond, Indiana, we were on to our next stop.
Live Gospel Music McDonalds? Not this time. We came, we saw, we had a light snack. The performances are on 3 different days in the evening. There were some glass decorations like you would see in a church and a collection of Gospel singer awards were on display. I did hear gospel music playing on the speakers when I went to the restroom. Maybe another time. A little further down the road, we looked for an obsessed sign builder. This simply didn’t exist and I certainly had no obsession to try to find it anymore. Let’s head to Michigan now!
Trucking along to some fine tunes in the car, I did most of the driving now. We were looking for Exit 34. Coloma, Michigan was the place. This was a worthwhile stop for sure. Wine, chocolate and Cider! First stop was Contessa Wine Cellars. This had an old world charm to it as well as modern amenities. There was quite an array of wines to taste. We bought a bottle and looked around outside. Spectacular orchard vistas could be seen from the terrace overlooking the rich, green valley below. Just ¼ mile away was The Chocolate Garden. The truffles here are the most delicious ones on the face of the earth, I am convinced! This place was featured on the Food Network and Fine Living TV. We each had a cyan pepper truffle. Creamy gooey chocolate with a BITE! Yummy. We washed it down with cider from Grandpa’s Cider Mill. We sat at the bar, had an open mind and tried different cider shots. Some of the blends were rum, peanut butter, mango, horchata , and pumpkin. We got a pint of horchata. It was delicious!
We drove for another half hour over to Bangor, Michigan were we found a giant Muffler Man (turned into a Viking) at a high school football field. 5 minutes of pictures and ooohs and aaaawwws. Ok….let’s go. We drove another hour and arrived at perhaps the highlight of the day. Crane’s Pie Pantry Restaurant located in Fennville, Michigan. It was more than a meal….it was an experience. It was like dining in a country kitchen/antique store. Nick knacks all around made for a lot of eye candy and photographs. They had awesome pies, chili, and apple butter bread. Lot’s of history here, including a stuffed dog from the 1930’s that sits on a sleigh! This place has been here since 1916 and I would gladly stop here again and again.
After getting all tossed around in Holland on our quest for the Dutch-Themed town….we gave up. U-Turn city is what they should call it.. Route 31 is soooo bizarre and ass-backwards. Let’s head to Rockford and have dinner at Rosie’s Diner (The most famous diner in the world!). This spot is a real treat! 3 different silver boxcars make up the experience. We sat at a booth and felt at peace. BBQ pork sandwich and chips for me. Denny had pork chops and mashed potatoes, I think. There’s even a mini golf course behind the diner that opens this weekend. It looked fun with all the giant food items.. Finally we made it to pop’s place and relaxed for the evening. An exhausting but real exciting birthday journey to the “Coasts of Gowen.”
The End

Long time gone

So I diappeared from the world of blogging for about 10 months now! I still write and I will continue to still write! I am getting married in a few months and I am suppose to have brain surgery soon! I have bizzare seizure sensations that occur a couple of times daily due to a lesion in my temporal lobe. I have a bum leg that I need to train harder with. I am suppose to participate in a bike ride tomorrow for MS victims but the weather is suppose to be extreme. I will get back on track with the writing. Here is a recent review I did on The Drowsy Chaperone:

If you want to see a tribute to old 1920’s musicals, this is the show for you! While it was light on plot, it was also quite heavy on the comedy. The Drowsy Chaperone was full of captivating rhythms and tons of up-tempo dance numbers. You will be humming several of the tunes at home for many days. This was a musical-inside-a comedy. What a spectacular performance that paid tribute to period pieces in the guise of a fake musical. The director kept everything moving well, with a phenomenal set design and energetic lighting too. The show was alive! It truly felt like a full-blown musical! What do I mean by this you might ask? Well let me tell you.
There’s this lonely guy, “the man in chair,” who is a shut-in basically. James Harms is hilarious and fascinating as the nameless narrator of the story. Essentially he hates theatre but loves musicals. He detests sitting in the dark and waiting for people to turn off their cell phones. Instead, the nameless man in the chair listens to his shows at home on his ancient record player. He is a true fan of musicals. The props above the stage have miniature musical posters and collectibles that reveal his passion. Overall, he is withdrawn and fantasizes when he gets out his vinyl records in order to escape the “blues” of his daily life. As spectators, we spend time in his apartment sympathizing with him and his infatuation. His favorite show, the fictional “Drowsy Chaperone,” is what he plays for the evening. He takes us through the entire double album from 1928. It literally comes to life in his apartment. Sometimes he stops the show to talk about the actors playing the parts or he’ll point out strange lyrics and absurd plot twists. Even the needle getting stuck in the groove of the old 78rpm is a witty moment as the whole cast get stuck in a five second loop.
Marriott’s in-the-round stage unquestionably enhances the intimacy and magic of this harmonious production. It is perhaps the finest show I have ever watched at the Marriott. There are big dance numbers that introduce all of the characters in their outrageous costumes. Speaking of dancing, there was a couple of amazing tap dancing routines that reminded me of Gene Kelly’s performance in Singin in the Rain. A show stealer, I felt, was a wacky Latin lover-type character named Aldolpho, played by Adam Pelty. He had great stage presence falling over, getting lost in his cape, messing up his hair and dropping his cane several times. Some of the other actors were actually spitting water at each other. It was a wild and thrilling ride. The spectators were completely drawn into this dreamy world created by a record player. The Jazz era and Vaudeville styles were nicely done. The Drowsy Chaperone is fresh and original but cleverly done in that 1920’s flashback style. I thought this was well written, ridiculous, remarkable and even affectionate. It was a true ode to musical theatre.

A Cherished Cafe Awakens From Ruins

My adventures on Route 66 in July all of a sudden had me on a quest for a simple and inexpensive diner that had been buried and forgotten for several decades. It was about 8:30 in the morning when I pulled onto the easy streets of Atlanta, Illinois. The downtown area is really friendly. There is even a painted smile on the water tower. Drivers would pass me on the streets nodding and waving withcheerful expressions. This cozy little settlement just oozes with that feeling of community. It’s just “southern” enough in Illinois to immediately recognize the “accent” and the “hospitality.” There’s plenty of interesting history here such as an old library that is being turned into a museum, a historic clock tower, a grain elevator from 1903 and a traditional mechanic shop that claims to be an “official” Route 66 mechanic. I also enjoyed several fascinating murals painted on the brick walls all around the town. What a fun place to be! As I pulled over to the side of the road, I looked back over my left shoulder and there it was. Palm’s Grill Café, right across from the giant statue of a Paul Bunyan holding a big ole hot dog. This place was once a flourishing stop along the classic route. The original café spent more than 34 years in the business, even serving as the Greyhound bus stop. But, when I-55 was constructed, a lot of things changed. Traffic bypassed Atlanta, the crowds faded and the grills ran out of heat. After the 1960’s, the café was vacated. Everything was in complete disrepair. It was a crumbling mess and bowing away from the foundation. Not anymore. It has now been fully restored and ready for customers. When I first got out of my car, I walked across the street and headed towards ‘The Grill,’ as the locals call it. I was greeted with waves and that motion to “come on in,” as I peaked in through the window. I couldn’t resist. A key feature that I noticed right away was the restored 30 foot long countertop. In the original café, a long slab of polished marble greeted customers as they pulled up to the stool. This one was a laminated marble pattern but it looked great and was a clever way to save money. The old cash register and phone, as well as a vintage refrigerator, were all there to make the cafe appear as it did during its 1930s heyday. There was even an old-fashioned radio plugged in behind the counter that only played oldies music. It was amazing how I felt like I took a step back in time. I was ready to experience the way it used to taste in an old café. As I hopped onto the chair, the waitress was quite enthusiastic to serve me. I ordered coffee and a short stack of pancakes. My breakfast was delicious. A few older couples were seated as well, just talking amongst themselves. I could tell they were local. I overheard lot of chatting about neighborhood happenings about “this person” and “the weather.” I of course, stood out with my camera and my notebook. I was an obvious tourist. “Can I get you anything else? We make our own pies here. We have peach, blueberry, banana cream and coconut cream. They’re very popular,” the waitress told me. Another favorite she recommended was the blue plate special, consisting of meat and two or three side dishes on a divided blue plate. I told her that I would be back another time and had to get going. Another remarkable feature I noticed on the way out of the building was the classic neon sign over the door, complete with Greyhound bus signage. After nearly four decades of sleep, this place was alive again. The spirit of the original Palm’s Grill Café was captured brilliantly. New life was breathed into Atlanta via the new café. The vibe at this revived diner is absolutely positive. I am thrilled that I stopped here on my Route 66 journey. I highly recommend that others do the same. You can’t argue with good food and good conversations, even ones that are overheard.

Pig Hip Story On Route 66

I was driving along on Route 66. It was a nice day and quiet on the highway. Only a few birds could be heard chirping away. Anyways, I recently left the town of Lincoln and soon I entered the town of Broadwell. On my right I noticed a sign and saw what used to be called The Pig Hip Restaurant. There was a stone marker and a mural on a sign post that looked interesting. I was reading about how this place used to draw large crowds and was known for it’s famous Barbeque. I walked over to the house and I looked through the screened in porch and saw an old man sleeping in a chair. For some reason I took his picture and then I walked inside. As the door opened, I jolted the man from the chair but he had a big smile on his face. He invited me in to sit down and he starts telling me stories. His name is Ernie Edwards. I had never heard of him before. He’s actually pretty famous. He’s a little heavy set and has a bandage wrapped around his right knee. He has a little bit of trouble getting up and down from a chair. He is extremely friendly and talkative.
He started the restaurant business in the 1940’s making fries and pork sandwiches. The sandwiches could be bought for 15 cents in those days. When the place opened, he had three tables, a bar and $150 of borrowed money. His major competitor at the time was the owner of the original Steak N Shake. They eventually became friends after much debate as to who owned the building where he started his restaurant. He quit the business in 1991. He figured that was enough time and had no intentions of letting it continue. Several years later they made it into a museum, with the help of many volunteers. Unfortunately, in 2007 the place burnt to the ground. He and his third wife (first two wives passed away) were driving home one day and noticed all the smoke and they were listening to the news on the radio about it. Then he realized when they got much closer to home that something smelled awfully familiar. He laughed about it though. It was an electrical fire, the fire department said. Ernie blames the cat.
The first story he told me was when he turned 90 (he’s 92 now) they made a 40 pound cake for him. He had met Col Sanders once (of Kentucky Fried Chicken) and that’s what they did for him when he turned 90. So he wanted the same thing. I said to him that he definitely does not look 92. He said he didn’t feel it either. I guess he dared someone to make the cake and to his surprise they did. It was very heavy! He laughed about that as well. Hundreds of people showed up at his home for his birthday despite the museum burning down. He was overwhelmed.
One late night, back in the 1940’s, a young drunk kid came stumbling into the restaurant and wanted to pay Ernie 20 bucks to drive him to Chicago (which was several hours away). He said that he couldn’t because he has to take care of the restaurant and there’s just no way he would be able to. Ernie told him to sleep in his car and wait for a soldier or a truck driver to come passing through who may be headed that way. He was sure that the kid would get a ride for free. So the kid lit up with that drunken smile and said, “Hey, that’s what I’ll do!” Sure enough he got his ride to Chicago later that night after a truck came plowing through and knocked over the garbage cans out in front first.
There was another store across the street that Ernie would stop in to visit. He told me he was a smart business man when this idea came to him. He would buy several coca colas from the store and stock them at his restaurant. One day a gentleman comes in and noticed them behind the counter. He turned to Ernie and said that he was really thirsty and he would pay just about anything for a coca cola. He thought about it and sold it to him for much more than what he originally paid for. That same gentlemen made his business selling cough syrup made from the coca colas he kept buying from Ernie. Of course in those days a lot of folks probably just assumed that those drinks were still made with cocaine.
Other things he mentioned to me were that he met Al Capone who loaned him 50 bucks, perhaps for the restaurant start up. He must have paid him back eventually, maybe a free dinner for him and his boys. He salvaged some memorabilia from the recent fire like plaques and pictures of volunteers who helped him create the museum. He has several kids who are all successful. He also met one of the actors from the TV show M.A.S.H. who wanted to buy one of his menus. Ernie refused to sell and the guy tried to take legal action towards him. That eventually ended. He shared a lot of interesting memories with me. Whenever a married woman came into his restaurant he would get his picture taken with them (without the husbands) while wearing a chef’s hat. It was just his thing. He had photos of some of those shots hanging on the wall. There’s a register that Ernie used to record the hundreds of marriage ceremonies he performed as Justice of the Peace during the 1950’s.
He was glad that I came by to talk to him. He said that I made his day and wished more people would stop by to visit. It was very memorable and special for me as well. I shook his hand and went on my way. I am glad I paid a visit to the old “coot”, a name that a news reporter gave him when he started to bad mouth the Chicago Cubs one time and printed that in the newspaper. I guess the story was a bit exaggerated. There’s always something unforgettable and funny happening with old Ernie. I asked him before I left how he came up with the name of his restaurant. He said, “One day, a hungry farmer came into the diner and saw some fresh baked ham on the stove. He pointed to the ham and said, ‘Give me a slice of that pig hip!’ and well, the rest is history you might say.”

Ghost Towns and Route 66

Lately I have been fascinated by the allure of Route 66 and Ghost Towns. There is something pretty awesome about being out on the open road never knowing what you're gonna see or do next. Sometimes its better to be neither "here" nor "there." It's the "in-between" moments where the good stuff is at. Just "being" out on the road is the fun. There doesn't always have to be a destination. As for the ghost towns, they're ominous and creepy for starters. Like something out of a Stephen King book. I tend to do more blogging soon. I'm taking next week off from work and I plan to get my "kicks" down in Joliet, Dwight, Pontiac, and if time allows, a place called Funk's Grove (which is the only ghost town on the Illinois portion of Route 66). I will tell you all about my 2 day journey next week. Here are a couple of photo's for now...

"united together"

I'd like to connect with the roots

of the Harlem Renaissance

Hey man you ever hear of

Langston Hughes?

A Negro who was

neither black nor white

he wrote some poems

one of them was called

cross

white old man

black old mother

lived and wrote

in Harlem

Have you ever heard Bird on a sax?

Jazz....

Oh so truly American

What was a Negro?

Is he the essential American?

Out there always finding solace

his meaning out there

on the streets of Harlem

abstract morality

You bind together

in the village

the bronx

Harlem

You have something in common

A lot of you believe

in the same things

live and let live

you can be happy

without becoming a millionaire

maybe you feel

like you belong there

it's the general feeling

a brotherhood

awakening race

consciousness

a cultural movement

rebirth

New York City

the center of change

then

accomplishments then

created a livelihood now

an interest

in Negro life

and power to the people

it must have been insane

a revolution of thoughts

you are the roots

of possibility

and i am inspired.

Why Poetry?

Why Poetry?


It always brings me back to my youth
Tasting an apple for the very first time
Smelling the fresh air of the summer wind
As your friend gives you an underdog on the swing set at recess
I loved those days, it always felt like summer
The first ride in the car going down to Florida
For summer vacation
Capturing memories and dreams on paper
Why poetry? Because it has everything that real life
lacks. Absolute freedom like you couldn’t imagine
A child is poetry
Because poetry is open-minded and confused
My poetry is confused by me sometimes
Both children and poems are vulnerable

Sadness and joy
Laughter and anger
Greed and envy

Unlimited feelings and emotions become adjectives
In poetry
Thoughts stray constantly
Without boundaries
There’s too much structure
In America sometimes
Not enough innocence
Why poetry? Everyone has something to say
Our souls must roam free.
Throughout human history as our relatives
Have had to face the shocking and alarming fact
That we have no clue who we are
Or where
We are à going
In this maze called life!
The people of “power”
The ones in command?
You know?
The religious
The political
The educational establishment?
They have tried to sooth us
By giving us order, rules, and a set of laws
Instructing us and shaping our minds
To accept their view of reality
What about my view of reality?
That is “why poetry” for me
I still want to hug a bag full of sweets
And run around wild chasing fireflies
Once again I return to my youth
Helping my dad out in the garage
Or baseball games with the neighborhood kids
At the lot across the street
I take steps forwards
And sleepwalk backwards
To the small days of early life
Why poetry? I want to think for myself
I question authority
and the rules it provides
Poetry is not structure
We must keep talking
And let loose the power of our mind's eye
Put ourselves into a state of open-mindedness
Allow room for chaos and confusion
Weren’t things better when we were young and confused?
I want to live dangerously
And yet remain calm, clear and observant
I’m no fool, I see what goes on all around me
So I write because its how I feel
That is “why poetry” for me.

Today's opinion of the USA

What does America mean?


Duty calls
Brother dies
Diversity celebrated
Riots in the street
History and variety
Faults too
I believe in its greatness, however
Vote and be informed
Or misinformed
Equal rights for all
Opinions everywhere
Fly our flags
Burning the flags
Sing the anthem
Mock one another
Full of pride!
Gay pride parades ruined
By hate crimes
Car bombs during a nice picnic
Let’s appreciate its great beauty and
Throw a pop can out the window
Men and women are equal
According to the law
But there’s domestic violence
everywhere
Stand up and march
Someone’s going to spit on you
So many natural splendors in the USA,
Religious beliefs, and
Economic opportunities
We’re uniquely free
To rob a liquor store
Or shoot someone in the face
Guns are legal after all
We’ve come here from so many places,
Terrorists living among us
So many spaces,
Visit the ghettos
And survive a night
Gang initiations on the streets
Yet we live so well together
We can enjoy being ourselves
Smoking crack,
Vandalizing neighborhoods,
Go skydiving,
Make pancakes for breakfast
We’re not always perfect
But we’re definitely free
We are many people but
As Americans
We are one
One kingdom of exceptional philosophy and culture,
Matchless politics yet a divided house
The economy is in the toilet
Social values are corrupted by Hollywood
Beliefs are taking God out of text books
Institutions that desensitize us
These distinguish us from others?
Our way of life
We are perhaps the only source of hope left in the world
It’s sad really
And the clock is ticking
It’s our spirits and our souls that can keep us alive
Familiarize yourself to this way of life
Love this country above all others
Being American requires more than merely living
In this country
Or speaking English,
Or obeying the law,
Or even holding a job!
Sure, that’s a very good start!
Where’s the compassion, the balance,
Or the gardening? Not enough
But we cannot stray too far from the lines
Of values
Hate must not take over
The outside cannot destroy us
Or we are doomed
And if we weaken, let down our guard
And lose our freedoms,
Then it will only be because
We did it to ourselves…
God Bless America!

Ball employees ride for cure

Ball employees ride for cure
By Christopher Noe

The MS Tour de Farms took place on Saturday June 13th and Sunday June 14th in Dekalb County near the NIU campus. This fundraiser bike ride is devoted to finding a cure for Multiple Sclerosis. There were four of us from Ball Horticultural in West Chicago at this extraordinary occasion; Pat Senne, Brenda Kehm, Denielle DuChaine, and myself, Chris Noe. After several months of training, we each rode close to 75 miles over a two day period. The first day of this event was a cold and rainy one. The severe downpour, without a doubt, made the course extra challenging, yet we still rode on. Day two was a much different experience. The clear blue skies and the warmer air made the intense labor of day one worth it. We peddled through lovely scenery of rolling hills and gorgeous farmlands in Northern Illinois. Riding our bikes during an event like this on both days requires will, fortitude, and selflessness. With the wind blowing in the final stretch to the finish, there were people cheering, cowbells ringing and bubbles blowing; it was thrilling. Seeing the few people with MS, in wheelchairs, clapping their hands for us at the end of the ride brought tears to my eyes and certainly made it all worthwhile. I would like to extend a sincere appreciation for those of you who financially supported us to reach our goals this year. We can’t wait to do it again next June!

May trip...Day Five

May 30th 2009

Last breakfast at the Dari Barr. Biscuits and Gravy of course!We were driving on I57 heading north when I pulled off the road to drive into the town of Benton where we came upon an old Bed and Breakfast where George Harrison of the Beatles once stayed. There's even a little museum inside dedicated to the Beatles. We drove to Whittington and found Burton's Cafe which is home of the Famous White Pie! Wow that was worth it! It's also near Rend Lake which reminds me of Lake Geneva with all the boats out there. A pit stop in Mt Vernon to get a photo op with the Uniroyal Gal at Stan The Tire Man store. Weird but interesting. We stopped in Tuscola and had an ice cream soda at this Candy/Soda Fountain kitchen called Fleshor's. The service and the desserts were very yummy! Then home. That's it!

May Trip...Day Four

May 29th 2009

Off we drove to Cach River, located in Belknap. This is near Vienna. We traveled deep into the woods and parked the car. The can of bug spray was heavily used. We hiked about a half a mile or so when we came to a bridge. It was a truss bridge that crossed the Cache river and part of Muddy river. An amazing area awaited us just around the corner. A floating boardwalk took us into the middle of Heron pond. It was like being in the middle of a Louisiana Bayou. Plenty of Tupelo and Cypress trees filled this interesting and beautiful wetland. After the mosquitos and deer spotting on our way out of the woods, we decided to travel another 3 miles in the car to the Cache River Basin Winery and did some tasting and bought another bottle of wine. It was a white wine called Niagara and it tasted very pleasant. More wine tasting was necessary so we went to Shawnee Winery in nearby Vienna. More tasting and another purchase. Razzle Dazzle was our poison...a raspberry flavored sweet wine. On to Metropolis, home of Superman. Statue, murals, and giftshop and museum. This is the only city in the country named METROPOLIS and dedicated to Superman. Illinois' oldest state park is called Fort Massac. It features a replica of the fort built in 1794. It is one of five former French forts in the Illinois park system. Kincaid mounds were our next stop. This was a sizable prehistoric Native American settlement, dating back nearly 1,000 years. However, 4 miles of gravel road to get there was a little annoying. Final stop was the General Store in Bay City where I got a bottle of coke and a moon pie. Oh yeah! That's it for day four!

May Trip...Day Three

May 28th 2009

Oatmeal, eggs and toast for breakfast. Yoga. Good day. Drove to Garden of the Gods which was about 25 miles away from the cabin. Amazing cliffs, bluffs and rock formations all over. We saw lizards and turtles. Had bologna sandwiches in the hot humid sun. Saw a rock shaped like a penis. It started raining after awhile, so we took off. I figured it was just a passing storm so we went hiking at Rim Rock where we took shelter at an ox cave. More bluffs and cool rock formations. It rained for an hour. We managed alright. My leg was hurting a little but I was okay. It was a great time! We were a little tired and feeling peckish. We stopped in Golconda at the Dari Bar for beef and noodles, corn bread strawberry pie with ice cream and cool whip. Very delicious! Back to the cabin for R & R.

May Trip...Day Two

May 27, 2009 (My Birthday)

We began the day with a little yoga on the deck. The sun had just popped out for a visit. above the clouds and through the tree line. The air was a little warm and yet cool as well. Birds were chirping. I forgot to mention that I saw an owl outside the backdoor. He kept diving his head down eating bugs in the grass. After yoga we had oatmeal for breakfast with bananas. I had coffee again. While we ate I had Beastie Boys playing in the background (To the Five Burroughs). Denny gave me a birthday card and a 3 musketeers bar (my favorite). Then we drove to Golconda and visited the Buel House and a log cabin. Near the Marina there were about20 Hawks (blackhawks, i think) that flocked along the shore. Denny took a lot of cool photos of the spectacle. As we headed down the byway we got inspired at San Damiano Jesus Shrine.
Very peaceful. We briefly passed through Rosiclare and grabbed a Mountain Dew before stopping in Elizabethtown where Denny's dad lived for awhile. We saw E Town Restaurant and the Rose Hotel which was built in 1812. This town has a lot of riverboat history. After that we tried looking for Tower Rock, There were so many trees destroyed by recent storms and it involved strenuous climbing, so we passed. We ate lunch in the car. Ham and cheese (hers got wet...the ice pack leaked. it was my fault). Apples, chex mix and chocolate covered mini marshmallows.

Cave In Rock state park was next. This has a river pirates history. Later we stopped in Equality at the Ohio River Visitor Center. Picked up some postcards, filled them out and mailed them inside the smallest and friendliest post office i have ever been to. While cruising good ole highway 13 just south of Muddy, a State Trooper pulled us over for speeding. I got lucky and only received a warning for going 9 miles over. In Harrisburg, I got gas and a frisco burger at hardee's. Then we made our way to Glendale where we sampled wine at Hogg Hollow Winery. We sampled a lot of sweet wines and good conversation with a guy named Steve.We bought a bottle and finished it that evening. Not before we stopped at The Chocolate Factory in Dixon Springs. Yummy! Then onward to our cabin. We cooked brats on the grill with corn and pork n beans. We also watched the turtles in the pond poking their heads out of the water. We watched 30 Rock on the only station that came in on the terrible tv we had. Then sleep. End of Day Two.

May Trip.......Day One

May 26th 2009

We drove down to Champaign and had breakfast at Le Peeps. I had eggs benedict with coffee. After that we headed for Charleston. It was strange driving by the campus of EIU, I hadn't been there in nearly 15 years. Just outside of Charleston we saw a big ugly statue of Lincoln.

We got hungry and took off for Mattoon for a burger and fries at a one of a kind Burger King (not part of the chain). Then a long drive down I57 took us to Paducah, Kentucky. We ended up there by mistake. However we got sandwhiches and salad at a place called Michael's. We went grocery shopping and headed off to the cabin in Bay City. Very nice cabins.

Altar Boys with Machine Guns

Altar Boys with Machine Guns
By Christopher Noe

“We were both altar boys living in Long Island. After high school graduation, he turns to me and says, ‘I want to join the Marine Corps.’ I look over at him and reply, ‘Are you serious?’ He said ‘yea, I want to go into law enforcement.’ So that was his plan. I thought it seemed strange but I supported his decision.
That summer he took off for Vietnam. I can only imagine what he must have gone through. However, I’ll never know for sure. In the later part of October 1966, he was accidentally shot by one of our own guys. My best friend was dead. To this day it haunts me just thinking about it. In 1968, I finally decided that I also wanted to join the Corps. It was my way of honoring my friend’s death.”

These are the words of Robert Noe. This is my uncle and his story. He recently spoke to me about his nearly 10 years of service with the Marine Corps and his time in Vietnam. I was captivated as he continued…

“It all started in Parris Island. Boot camp normally would be a thirteen week process but during the Vietnam era it was sort of like a hurry up program. I was cut off from the civilian world and had to adapt to a Marine Corps lifestyle. There are yellow painted footprints outside of the Receiving Building, where thousands of prospective Marines have gotten their first taste of military life. That’s where I got mine. We were all scared. They took all of our personal belongings. I thought I was prepared but apparently my hair wasn’t short enough. The next thing I know I’m getting it butchered. We got up at 5:00 am everyday for inspection, infantry training, and calisthenics. We were shuffled around like cattle. Drill Sergeants tried to cram everything down our throats. Whenever you screwed up, the whole unit paid for it.”

While listening, I thought about the film Full Metal Jacket which depicts life at Parris Island and tried to picture how scary that must have been for him.

“I’ll never forget Staff Sergeant Rutherford. He made a point that everybody would remember him. He said once, “If you ever see me on the outside, I want you to knock me off from wherever I am. If I’m sitting on a bar stool, I want you to knock my ass to the turf!” And wouldn’t you know it, it was probably half a year later while I was in North Carolina, I looked over and said, ‘I think that’s the staff sergeant.’ I went over and did exactly what he said. I gave him one hell of a whack and knocked him off his bar stool. He got up and gave me this look. I said to him, ‘I was just following orders Sir.’
“Before we went to Nam, they sent us to California where we did some more infantry training at a place called Camp Pendleton. It was a simulated war experience where I managed to get killed every time. I laughed and thought, ‘Hopefully I won’t be in the jungle.’

I laughed along with him. A little humor doesn’t hurt.

“We got on a plane and only made it as far as Hawaii and had to land because a gyro went out. As we sat around drinking Fog Cutters (a popular drink in the `60’s), comedians Steve Allen and Jonathan Winters come walking through the terminal. They were just getting done with a USO tour and asked us, ‘Are you going or coming back?’ We all shouted at once, ‘We’re going!’ They said ‘Well keep your head down and good luck.’
So after my fourth Fog Cutter, the next thing I know I’m in Okinawa. We waited there three-four days for our orders. We went to De Nang to a place called Freedom Hill. That’s where we got our weapons, ponchos and field jackets. We got there in April and it was hotter than hell. I asked, ‘Why did we need ponchos and our field jackets?’ Sergeant said, ‘Wait until the monsoons.’ Suddenly I was cold, wet, and mushy. After that I knew why.
As a Junior Troop, I tried coming up with ways to make extra money and looked into flight pay. All I had to do was fly around for three and a haf hours and that was it. ‘What could possibly happen in that short time?’ I thought. So there I was, a temporary assigned duty gunner with an M50 hanging out the window of a CH53 helicopter, just enjoying my flight pay. Suddenly, we get a call from Medevac and had to turn around and go back because all hell was breaking loose. I returned fire and picked up our wounded. We made it back okay, but a wounded soldier lost his leg and he was sent home.”

Meanwhile, I am listening intently and frozen still. This wasn’t a movie, it was real.

“Working nights in the welding shop had its close calls, too. Charlie had this routine where once this television program would go off the air, the harassment fire of rockets and mortars would come. One night they got pretty close. In fact, they took out one of the towers that we used as a control tower for helicopters coming in. It came crashing to the ground. Another shot came between the welding shop and the hangar. I dove into the bunker. There was a loud concussion and a lot of ringing in my ears. So much confusion was going on at the time. When the smoke cleared and the fog lifted from my head, I realized what was happening. They asked me if I was okay. With a little blood in my ears I said, ‘Oh yeah, I’m fine.’ I wasn’t wounded but it was frightening.

My God, I thought. Did this all really happen?

On my third night after leaving Freedom Hill with my squadron, we got hit three times. After the third time, I go, ‘That’s it! I’ve had enough. I need to sleep. Go ahead and kill me!’ You always knew when Charlie was nearby. It was just a feeling everyone got. As for my stress, at first I thought I was handling it okay. But after awhile it seemed that everyone was finding ways to relieve themselves. I used to drink real hard. I was a terrible drinker. I would drink until I passed out. The grass over there was fantastic. I smoked it a few times. Uppers and downers were available, as well. We needed things to help us sleep and of course to wake up, too. After awhile one day just blended into the next.”

I couldn’t even blame him for what he did. My eyes were glazed with tears because the stress must have really gotten to him and so many men out there in the jungle.

I have a very good friend who says I suffer post-traumatic stress. I think maybe its more like wishful thinking. I probably did when I first got home, but I try to not think about it. When we got out of Nam in `75, I had diarrhea of the mouth. I would talk about the war 24/7. So for me that was my therapy. I would do anything just to get it out of my head. After awhile it seemed like no one was listening or even cared. I was like, ‘Okay?’ So I just never said anything more about it after that. If someone were to ask me how I was treated when I came home, I would have to say, ‘Not very well.’ You know that cliché of someone throwing a beer bottle at you? Well that actually happened. In California, I had one person throw a beer at me. When I got home to New York I had a person buy me a beer. It went from one extreme to the next. It wasn’t wise to walk around in uniform back then. Even with the short hair you still stood out like a sore thumb. It was just obvious that you were in the military.”

It’s sad that our nation has always been divided like that. Listening to him, I wanted to buy Uncle Bob a beer.

“I do not regret my years in the service. I was actually treated better in the Marine Corps, even by my commanders, than I was at the Post Office, where I worked for 22 years. I thought that was just sad. When I try to describe what it was like in Vietnam, I tell people that it’s like being blindfolded and touching an elephant. You’re not sure what part of the elephant you’re touching. I do try to avoid things like Memorial Day. I pretend it’s not there and simply avoid it. I had been approached by the VFW a few times but I could never commit to that. After spending almost 10 years in the service, I just wanted to forget about the military for awhile and be a civilian. I wanted to catch up, go to school, get a job, and even let my hair grow out a little bit. Why not focus on other things that are important, like family get-togethers or sports? I tried marching in a couple of parades in my town and I hear the clapping and the cheering and I think, ‘You know dudes you are just 30 years way too late.’ It almost seems phony. But it’s not too late to cheer for our soldiers in Afghanistan and Iraq. Do I agree with everything that’s going on? I would say probably not. But the types of weapons that we do have are much better than they were 20-50 years ago. It’s obvious. But the stress never seems to go away. Even 2,000 years ago I’m sure the Romans had stress. It’s just a given. That’s war.”

This was my Uncle Bob’s story. I thanked him for his time. I also wished him good luck on his upcoming bike ride in June. He is riding over 100 miles for his brother, who is suffering from MS. The next time you take a ride out on the bike trails, you just may pass a war hero; my uncle and my friend.

Soul River

A river of green is swimming underneath the trees

It's where summer welcomes a lazy breeze

We are surrounded by wild flowers

The splashing of the rain does the foliage good

God bless these magnificent plants from heaven's light!

Creating moments and living inside of them

Growing love teaches passion

For the wild beauty of the human soul.....

WALKING THROUGH THE PATH PROSE

Stones lead toward a majestic wall
Surrounded by wild flowers
Scattered around and hitting the ground.
When this begins to itch, you will not be able to scratch it.
Strangled in the blackness
Without feeling the river in the sky
That is full of potholes
And the snow is cold and wet
And does not bend for your kindness.

Music is ready for my ears to listen
It’s a new way to say “I am not here.”
I create moments and you live inside of them.
Walking through the shadows
Erase the night with a smile
Give me a shed of sweetness
They’ll be no more substantial focusing
On the path of glorious turmoil
In the sunshine of yesterday’s promises
They’ll never remember what was said before.


Growing love teaches passion
For the wild beauty
Of the human soul.
Let us delight in the mystery
Of a morning sky.
Make room for your spreading dreams
To fully extend.
Do not let good friendships die.

Carry your weight of sweetness
Others will take notice of
Your good will
Just sit down and listen to a thunderstorm
Out there under the stars
It splashes….and it feels good
I am a soul…..being
In everlasting motion.
Puncture me with your words
Hit me with an angry face.
Damage my heart with your dots
That no longer connect
Converse with my nonsense
And hear my defense
I push it all over.
The wet world will dry
Give it a call.

Denielle

This is a pop art version of my fiance. Her name is Denielle. We met online through eharmony in March of 2007. We plan to be married on October 16, 2010. We are very happy together. She has brought sheer joy to my life. More on us later.

Nine Inch Nails Ghosts I-IV

A brief history first.

Nine Inch Nails is considered by many fans to be one of the most influential industrial rock music groups. Trent Reznnor is the founder and the singer, songwriter, and instrumentalist, Reznor is actually the only official member of Nine Inch Nails. He is responsible alone for taking the band in its direction from 1989 to present day. It's hard to believe that its been twenty years now. NIN's music covers a wide range of genres, while retaining a characteristic sound using electronic instruments and processing. Some might say that its heavily computer generated progressive rock. Typically after recording any new album, Reznor tends to assemble a live band to perform with him. It has constantly been a revolving lineup and they often have to rearrange songs to fit a live setting. On stage, NIN often use spectacular visual elements to accompany the performances, which frequently concluded with the band destroying their instruments. I have witnessed such an event. Particularly at a show at the UIC Pavillion in 1999, where Trent was repeatedly kicking the drumset, knocking over the microphones, and throwing his keyboard to the ground.

Nine Inch Nails released Ghosts I - IV, a 36 track instrumental collection in the spring of 2008. It is almost two hours of new music composed and recorded over a ten week period during the Fall of 2007, Ghosts I - IV is a little different and even more mellow for Nine Inch Nails. However it does explore a plethora of new terrain.

Trent Reznor explains, "I've been considering and wanting to make this kind of record for years, but by its very nature it wouldn't have made sense until this point. This collection of music is the result of working from a very visual perspective - dressing imagined locations and scenarios with sound and texture; a soundtrack for daydreams. I'm very pleased with the result and the ability to present it directly to you without interference. I hope you enjoy the first four volumes of Ghosts."

Go here to get the music in the format you wish: http://ghosts.nin.com/main/order_options