You Can’t Beat A Dead Cliche

Never let it be said I said, “I told you so,” so I won’t. But, sometimes, cliches are so cliched. I don’t want to be the only port in a storm beating a dead horse here, but sometimes, if the shoe fits, we just have to grin and bear it. And, that can be the needle in the haystack and the straw that breaks the camel’s back, if we don’t mind our “P’s” and “Q’s.” Why, just yesterday, for instance, I caught myself posting a two-sentence reply that had no less than four dead horses in it. Now, this can be good, or it can be not so good. If it’s good, no problem. If it’s bad, it’s back to the drawing board, to run it back up the flagpole and see if anybody salutes. If at first you don’t succeed, there’s a girl in every port. But sometimes, we just have to keep our noses to the grindstone, our shoulders to the wheel, our eyes on the ball, and our ears to the ground, and try to work like that.

What’s this world coming to? I feel like the last rose of summer, if the truth be told. My cliche-sensors must be on hold, but far be it from me to dredge something older than the hills up from the depths of despair. I guess I’ll have to strike while the iron is hot and make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear while the getting is good, or I’m going to find myself behind the door when the proof is in the pudding and the cat gets let out of the bag.

But I don’t let it get me down, because I may not be as good as I once was, and all I have to do is to look this gift-horse in the mouth, and I’ll be walking in tall cotton, back on my high horse, with my ship about to come in.

Too bad I’m stranded between the devil and the airport…

It’s A Long Story…

As you have seen here frequently, I like to use the term, “Valley Trash.” I have explained briefly that it is how Anchorage-ites refer to those of us who live in the Matanuska Valley, which includes Palmer, Wasilla, Big Lake, and several smaller communities. But I recently realized I probably owed you a little more explanation, so here goes:

Once upon a time in Anchorage, some politico (j.g.) made the mistake of saying in public, (perhaps even on television/radio) that it wasn’t necessary to bother with the “Valley Trash.” (Apparently, Valley residents weren’t important/educated/numerous enough to count in this person’s vision for the future.) And, also apparently, a piece of Valley Trash heard the remark and decided to run with it. So he had bumper stickers and teeshirts made that proclaimed boldly in white on black, “PROUD TO BE VALLEY TRASH!” Needless to say, he didn’t get anywhere NEAR enough of them made, and they sold out immediately. Unfortunately for the rest of us Valley Trash, there are no more to be had.

We do have a consolation or two, however: We have the sublimest of spinoffs…an incredibly delectable, award-winning potent golden namesake in the “flagship” ale of the Great Bear Brewing Co., the “farthest north brewpub in America.” Utterly delightful. A subtle two-by-four. The other perk is the pleasure of knowing, when we go to Anchorage, that they disdain everything about us but our money, but they are out of growing room down there, so they are all whining about wanting to move across the Knik Arm to infest the Valley with their snooty ways. Funny thing: People in the Valley aren’t real crazy about the idea, for some reason… But, maybe we’ll let them come. And we’ll just call them “Anchorage Snobs” and look down our noses at THEM.

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Every once in a while, as I have mentioned before on this page, someone will take me to the woodshed for my political opinions. Apparently, little-old-lady bloggers like me have no business opining on topics like politics, public figures, affairs of state, or national security. Now, I’ll be the first person in line–jumping up and down and waving wildly–to admit that I am NOT an expert on any of these matters. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have opinions, and it doesn’t mean I can’t express them in this space. My advice to those who don’t like what they read here is, DON’T READ HERE, THEN. Sheesh. If they think they can lure me into an argument online, they’d better get another think, because I don’t respond to those kinds of comments. If I can’t state my opinion clearly enough in my article, then all their goading and prodding isn’t going to make me come up with any more ammunition for them to shoot at me.

If you like what you read here, by all means, please come back often, and I hope you enjoy reading my non-professional punditry and philosophies. For YOUR sake, I’ll try to gather as much as I can from my own world to make it interesting.

Some blogs are not much more than link farms, using other people’s opinions to plump up their hit counters. Others are more willing to apply themselves to the topics of the day. They provide links to the articles that make them think and write their own opinions on whatever topic. This is as it should be, and it is also the category into which I hope to place myself.

How Can We Top This?

Good News from Iraq

Alcoholics Anonymous

Joe and I got sober in AA nearly 30 years ago. It was the absolute best thing that had ever happened to either one of us up to that point. Joe never tasted another drop until he was on the plane for Zion, IL for cancer treatment he would not live long enough to receive. We ordered him a beer, and he said, “If I can’t have one now, when can I?” but he only took a sip or two, true to his promise years ago never to drink again.

Alcoholics Anonymous is one of the best things that has ever come to America. The wisdom founder Bill W. swerved into in the Thirties has helped millions of out-of-control people regain their lives and sanity without drugs or special treatment. It has created spin-off groups for drug, food, and sex abuse. It focuses on the drinkers’ inability to cope with the disappointments in their lives, and teaches them peace. It has a strong spiritual component that never forces any particular religion on any participant, but emphasizes that because the need for drink is beyond the drinker’s control, the drinker needs something bigger than the drink to manage it.

The “Anonymous” part is exactly what it says. No member’s identity is ever revealed by another member, regardless of who they are or how famous they might be. Even next-door neighbors in the same group respect each other’s anonymity.

The simple, honest admission that one’s life is out of control and unmanageable is the first step in regaining the normal life all alcoholics long for but are unable to attain on their own. The rest is just details.

It’s a strange thing to go to a meeting and hear one’s own story go around the table again and again. Alcoholism is the symptom that becomes a disease. It is so predictable it can be mapped. Hearing the same basic story with only names and places changed as one attends the meetings and listens to the pain expressed in each drinker’s recitation makes us realize that none of us are above the tyranny of addiction. It can happen to anyone. ANYONE.

If you, or someone you know, seems unable to stop drinking after the first drink, or if drinking always causes problems, then you (or they) might need intervention and help from AA. Don’t ever be too proud (or too ashamed) to call AA. There is a contact person listed in every phonebook in America. Below are the Steps we must take to regain control of our lives:

THE 12 STEPS OF ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol–that our lives had become unmanageable.

2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

——————————————————————————–

From:
ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS
The Story of
How many Thousands of Men and Women Have Recovered from Alcoholism
NEW AND REVISED EDITION
(Second Edition)

ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS PUBLISHING, INC.
NEW YORK CITY
1955
pp. 59-60

Medal Of Honor

Sergeant, THANK YOU FOR THE GIFT OF YOUR LIFE. Rest in peace. From the official Citation:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty:

Sergeant First Class Paul R. Smith distinguished himself by acts of gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty in action with an armed enemy near Baghdad International Airport, Baghdad, Iraq on 4 April 2003. On that day, Sergeant First Class Smith was engaged in the construction of a prisoner of war holding area when his Task Force was violently attacked by a company-sized enemy force. Realizing the vulnerability of over 100 fellow soldiers, Sergeant First Class Smith quickly organized a hasty defense consisting of two platoons of soldiers, one Bradley Fighting Vehicle and three armored personnel carriers. As the fight developed, Sergeant First Class Smith braved hostile enemy fire to personally engage the enemy with hand grenades and anti-tank weapons, and organized the evacuation of three wounded soldiers from an armored personnel carrier struck by a rocket propelled grenade and a 60mm mortar round. Fearing the enemy would overrun their defenses, Sergeant First Class Smith moved under withering enemy fire to man a .50 caliber machine gun mounted on a damaged armored personnel carrier. In total disregard for his own life, he maintained his exposed position in order to engage the attacking enemy force. During this action, he was mortally wounded. His courageous actions helped defeat the enemy attack, and resulted in as many as 50 enemy soldiers killed, while allowing the safe withdrawal of numerous wounded soldiers. Sergeant First Class Smith’s extraordinary heroism and uncommon valor are in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service and reflect great credit upon himself, the Third Infantry Division “Rock of the Marne,” and the United States Army.

Comes The Revolution…

Hugo Chavez is a deranged little pipsqueak. If it wasn’t for the leftish tilt of the mainstream press in this country climbing all over each other to blow smoke into his nether regions, he would still be an UNKNOWN deranged little pipsqueak.

He promised Alaskan Native villagers free heating oil. Hello?? Um, not only is Alaska a net producer of oil (in case Hugo hasn’t looked lately), but it is also taking care of its Native population very well, with numerous heating-oil subsidies and “free heat” programs. It most certainly does NOT need a freakin handout from a deranged little pipsqueak from south of the Equator. Unfortunately, the majority of the people in charge of the oil subsidy programs in Alaska are among the leftest of the Left up here, convinced that anything free is an entitlement, and they are out to get all of it they can, thankyouverymuch. The other thing about these silly people is that they actually believe a Communist when he says things like this.

Well, I’m a skeptic when it comes to these kinds of promises from Communists. Aren’t these the guys in this story: Ivan: “Comes the revolution, Comrades, and we’ll ALL have bread!” Igor: “Nyet, Comrade! Comes the revolution, and we’ll all have CAKE!” Ivan says, “Nyet, Comrade! What if the masses don’t like cake??” Igor says, “Comes the revolution, Comrade, and we’ll all eat cake, and LIKE it!”

I’ll wait to believe this one until I see all that cake piling up in the villages…Meanwhile, Hugo Chavez needs to go tell his mother she wants him.

They’re So Easy

As the last person on the planet to weigh in on the stink raised by the Jihadists over the remarks made by Pope Benedict XVI recently, I really don’t have much to say that hasn’t already been said, repeated, quoted, pounced upon, or otherwise belabored to death.

The Holy Father is a wise, educated man who has a sense of humor, and who definitely doesn’t take himself too seriously. His remarks were well within the boundaries of polite commentary, which he is entitled to make.

The Jihadists have a violent hatred for anything not Muslim in origin. Next to Israel and the Jews, they hate Catholic Christians, and never miss an opportunity to show it. They also never miss an opportunity to show the rest of the world how deranged, depraved, deficient, out-of-control, primitive, childish, and ignorant they really are.

They’re SOOOOO easy…

CONSTITUTION DAY, 2006

“WE, THE PEOPLE of the United States of America…”

Today, September 17, 2006, is Constitution Day, the day the Constitution of the United States was ratified and signed. Click here to read the most beautiful document in the world. And, click here to read about the attempts to make it a “Living Document” instead of a rock-solid foundation for freedom.

The Compleat Alaskan Woman

One of the nice things about living in a cool climate is that you can add as many layers as you need to keep warm. Hot climates are very limiting, since you can only get just so naked, then you’re out of luck. You can only peel off so many pieces of clothing.

Some things really stand the test of time when it comes to clothing choices; things that just can’t be replaced by much of anything else without compromising comfort and practicality. Alaskan “style” is no style. But it is comfort, convenience, and practicality.

A lot of things have changed since I lived here before, but one thing that seems to be timeless is the women’s “bush” fashion. The only thing that seems to have changed are the color choices and the fabrics. But one thing is certain: If you see a woman dressed in , , and , you’re seeing a real Alaskan woman. The sweatshirt goes on over an Alaskan teeshirt or (in winter) an insulated top for long underwear. Like so:

Then the sweatshirt, of course, followed by the plaid shirt, which is often topped with a down vest of varying degrees of cleanliness. The boots are hard to find in women’s sizes, so the smallest men’s size is purchased. Since these boots are not insulated, certain steps must be taken to make the boots as warm and comfortable as possible. First, at least one pair of thick wool insoles are cut to fit. Then the boot top is rolled down halfway to make it easier to pull it on over the thick woolen socks, which are usually worn over thick cotton socks, then the boot top is rolled back up over the bottom of the pantleg. This provides insulation and padding, and makes the clumsy rubber boots not only cozy as slippers, but also makes them FIT. Pants are chosen according to individual taste and preference, and are often worn over the bottom half of the long underwear suit in winter.

(Oh. Before I forget: One of the things I found while I lived Outside was the wool felt clog. Warm. Comfortable. Practical. Perfect for cold Alaskan floors.)

The summer clothing style is slightly different, in that the sweatshirt is exchanged for an “Alaska” teeshirt and the brown neoprene boots are replaced by athletic shoes. The plaid wool shirt is exchanged for cotton flannel. This style is optional, of course, since summer is comfortable shirtsleeve weather here, but some days are damp and breezy, and a couple of extra pieces of clothes just make sense.

Women who aren’t afraid to wear something like this aren’t afraid of much else, either. Most women who dress “Alaskan style” are familiar with the business ends of guns, axes, shovels, and critters. They can split wood, cook, can, kill, skin, fish (and gut fish), make jam from local berries, and spread it on bread they made themselves.

We may never make it to the pages of any fashion magazine, and we really wouldn’t care to. The style may not be the most modish, but it’s just exactly what we need to stay cozy in Alaska. Believe me, there are worse ways to dress. And, believe me, I’ve SEEN them…

Thanks For Serving!

Every time I see a person in uniform, I stop them, shake their hand, and thank them for serving. Really. For someone like me, an old lady who not only never served, but never could, it’s the least I can do to show my appreciation for their willingness to sacrifice it all for my sake. And, not just for me, of course, but for all of us, and even for total strangers in a faraway land. In a place like Alaska, virtually saturated with military people, this is a busy job in a mall or shopping center!

Our little family decided a couple of years ago that it was time to show some appreciation. We thank Veterans, we thank active duty. We thank recruiters and the people in their offices waiting to sign up. We thank our police and firefighters, for keeping us safe at home. We teach my grandsons that any uniform is on a GOOD GUY, and that the Good guys are dressed like that to show the rest of us that they will fight for us, and we teach them that these people are the REAL heroes.

The reactions are only slightly varied, and they are always pleasant. Some in uniform are so flattered and honored they blush and stammer. Apparently, these are the ones no one has yet thanked. But, most often, we get to see the uniforms straighten and stand tall, and the handshake becomes firm and the smile is wide. They thank US for thanking them.

How can you top THAT??

For all of you who read this, who serve, or have served, in any uniformed capacity, I give you my most heartfelt gratitude. I wish I could hug you all. God bless you, and thank you for your service.