PBO Dumps The General

From the Back of Eddy Creek Bay - Tranquilla 2 --- Some of you will be shocked by this but I agree with the President's decision to accept the resignation of the General. Frankly, I would have fired him.

"Gen. Stanley McChrystal, under fire for comments made in a Rolling Stone profile, has resigned as the top U.S. commander in Afghanistan. Gen. David Petraeus, presently head of the U.S. Central Command, which oversees the operation in Afghanistan, has been nominated to take over the position but must first face Senate confirmation hearings."

First, like him or not the President is the Commander in Chief. If you have ever been in or associated with the military you know there is a chain of command. The General knows this as does his staff. You always show respect for your command - if you can't you keep your mouth shut when dealing with the press and deal with these issues behind closed doors or you find another job.

Second, although I think this is a strategic mistake in the "War of Terror" excuse me "An Overseas Engagement", because for this action you need a General who has earned his stars in the covert world, you also need a unified front of respect from top down.

Third, any aide-de-camp that was dumb enough to allow Rolling Stone near his commander should have been fired and rightly was. That also goes for all his staff who had diarrhea of the mouth. However, any General that does not have enough media savvy to understand that a writer for RS would not be out to do him and his command in is naive at best.

General we thank you for your service. You are a decent and honorable man that allowed your staff to screw things up. Your staff is under your command and they are your responsibility. Go now knowing that many of us still believe you to be a man of honor and integrity. In civilian life coming out fighting for us all.

Do I think PBO really knows what he is doing as CIC? Well, let's see how he handles this latest crisis. Harry Truman he is not - CIC he still is.

Simper Fi, Dr. Darryl

Tone of Voice and My Friend Doug Bailey

Tybee Island, Ga. --- I am well aware that I have work to do. In fact, I can see it piled up on my desk here. It is the time of year when I have to pay attention to running the business, balancing the accounts, figuring out how I will make everything work despite slow payment from clients. So, I am well aware I should be working instead of writing but now and then I have to write for therapy.

A few things have spurred this writing spell –

1. My daughter’s best buddy – spott – has some serious health problems and like all of our best friends we agonize over the quality of their life and how we will deal with the loss. Those of you that know me know I don’t have a day pass that I don’t think about my ole buddy Stimpy and how much he meant to me – this despite the fact I have two great buddies with me right now – Max and Little Bit – it is just the romantic’s makeup – the “what if” part of our lives. What if our dogs could live as long as we did? What if our hearts weren’t broken so many times in our lives that pieces seem to never fully heal? What if we had just told those we love more often that we did love them before they passed? What if we could just get people to understand it is not what they say but how they say it? Those romantics reading this will understand.
2. I found in cleaning up some computer files today the eulogy I gave for a dear and close friend – “Donut Doug” – probably one of the closer male friends I have ever had. Four years ago this past Christmas Doug died in a truck wreck – I will share that eulogy with you at the end of this. What is important to know about Doug is that he understood me and what I dealt with probably more than most men. He was an only child. He understood the importance of language and especially tone of voice and how it could affect any situation because he too had been there and done that as they say.
3. Which brings me to one of the subjects of this blog – tone of voice. I grew up in a household where my Mother and Father would fight – loudly sometimes. Once they realized that I heard them and was greatly disturbed by their actions they went to using “tone of voice” to destroy one another and their arguments became staring and tonal contests. I learned quickly when my Mother used just a tone, never a loud voice, to correct me. Her tone alone could and did reduce me to a shivering heap of a child.

Maybe that is why I have spent almost 60-years of my life studying behavioral psychology and interpersonal communications – maybe I wanted to understand how just the tone of a person’s words can hurt more than anything that can be said or done.

Maybe that is why I don’t trust any politician whose language drips with the syrupy “trust me” and has the arrogant tone of a Senator Arlen Specter, who by the way should resign. If the way he treated Michelle Bachmann the other day is any indication of the way he treats women in general he is a disgrace to the Senate, politicians and to himself. Specter has been able to stay in the Senate and has been protected by both parties because of his inventiveness in coming of with the “Magic Bullet” theory in the JFK assassination. The public has grown weary of him and I predict he will be ousted with a massive vote against his inability to show integrity. Alas, I get away from what I wanted to write about.

Tone of voice

If the world wants to be a kinder and gentler place for us all I suggest people listen carefully to “how” they say what they say. They might just be surprised to find that their ineffective communications comes not from the information they are sharing rather it comes from the way they are sharing it.

Which brings me to Doug.

I miss Doug Bailey the most because he understood this very concept – Doug didn’t have to raise his voice or use force as a police officer to control a situation – he could with his tone of voice control most any situation while on or off duty. He understood that it is very easy to control a situation through words alone and how powerful those words can be when not used properly with the right tone.

Doug was unique among law enforcement and security folks. And what follows was my tribute to him as my friend ...

“Donut Doug”

Every now and then in your life you come across someone that you just know instantaneously is going to be a friend.

Someone who instinctively you realize shares similar values for God and Country, believes that most politicians are simply out to feather their own nests, and who likes dogs and guns.

So it was with Doug Bailey. Doug was a good ole East Tennessee born and reared fellow with a pleasant smile and a soft voice.

I actually met Doug in a snow storm one Christmas when he delivered his sister-in-law Marilyn King for me to pick up at a convenience market so we could share Christmas together.

Marilyn and I go back to our days at Murray State University and for some reason she is another of those friends I have never lost contact with over the last four decades.

Marilyn’s sister Carole married Doug and like she said she knew he was a good fellow when he didn’t run screaming from her house one night when her poodle Jasmine peed all over him --- Doug I am sure saw it much like I would --- he was being marked.

Doug like many of us had had a practice marriage. So had Carole. So when the two of them settled in with Carole’s two dogs it was not without careful thought. I have never seen two more compatible and happy people wed.

I met Doug when Carole and Marilyn were making the final plans for their Mother’s funeral. I officiated and gave the eulogy for Mrs. Louella King. Doug was most kind in his comments about the eulogy, however, that is not what made us friends.

Following the funeral Marilyn, Carole and Doug had to do what all children must. They had to make arrangements to settle the Mrs. King’s estate. Now, many spouses especially good ole boys from the South might have shunned any responsibility for this. Not Doug.

Doug had been there every step of the way with the slow decline of Mrs. King supporting her, Carole and Marilyn. Never once did I ever hear him complain, grumble or question the proceedings. Many son-in laws would have become difficult to be around in those circumstances but not Doug.

Doug and I got along so famously I think because he and I were similar in many ways.

He was an only child of parents of humble origins. He liked to read most anything but especially for fun Dean Koontz and magazines about guns. He liked guns and shooting them and he believed an armed society was a polite society. He liked Coast-to-Coast radio late at night and thinking about the esoteric side of life. He liked people and watching them and getting to know them. He liked helping people especially those less fortunate. He liked to eat good steak and have a cold beer. He was conservative in his politics and believed there was a right and a wrong and that our country was worth fighting and dying for. He was patient, kind and considerate to those especially in need of attention. He was gentle and yet firm. He was the kind of guy that you could trust your back to and never doubt it was well protected. He was funny and witty. He was good to his wife and attentive to her. He believed in a God and that John Wayne, Elvis Presley and President Ronald Reagan were national heroes.

Doug Bailey was the kind of person that if I were looking for a friend I could not have found one better. Sadly though Doug four years ago this December parted this world.

Doug liked to drive fast. So do I although I confess at age 59 I have slowed down a lot. One rainy evening enroute to work he failed to negotiate a rains slicked curve on I-440 and Doug joined many of our heroes that had gone before.

This is what I spoke about when I delivered Doug Bailey’s eulogy. Perhaps some of these words will resonate with you this Christmas season and you will truly find love, peace and grace:

The great writer Somerset Maugham once wrote, that ‘The great tragedy of life is not that men perish, but that they cease to love.’

Doug Bailey never ceased to love, of that I am sure. Everyone that came to know Doug knew him as a “Gentle Giant” of a man with a heart as big as they come. A heart that surely even in his final moments on this earth was filled with the love of life, family and friends.

Doug loved his Mom and Dad, his wife Carole, his sister in law Marilyn and each of his friends gathered here – he loved his job with an all consuming passion.

Now, how you say do I know this?

Well, when it comes to Carole let’s simply review the circumstances under which he won her heart --- 10 years ago this time of year --- in 1996 --- with one of the worst snowfalls the city had ever seen on the ground Carole and Doug were to have their first date --- Carole received a call from Doug -- she was certain that he would cancel after all – she lived in Madison – he in Laverne – they had really only talked a few times and she did live at the top of a very steep hill – yet as the time for the date approached with no relief in site for the weather when Doug called he simply confirmed the time he would pick her up – now Marilyn had felt so bad for her – fearing she would spend her birthday alone had sent her flowers – yet the day and time arrived and so did Doug – he was driving a new rented Jeep Cherokee geared to 4-wheel drive --- that was Doug --- dependable, responsible and true to his word – something that we would all learn that we could depend upon ---

Some of you will suggest that this was the sign of true love.

But this is the rest of the story --- shortly after this date one evening Carole invites Doug into her home to meet her beloved children --- two charming and cuddly poodles --- Jasmine and Black Jack – and when Doug gets seated and comfortable – Black Jack jumps up and proceeds too “mark his territory” on Doug’s pants – yes you heard me right --- now I am pretty sure we know how most men would have reacted --- most men certainly would have not reacted the way Doug did – but you see most men were not Doug – he later told everyone that he knew right then and there that the children were just christening their new Dad --- and as you know Carole -- he loved Jasmine and Black Jack just like they were his own children -

You can tell much about the character of a man by the way they treat animals and children and how they speak of their country, show respect for their flag and their work --- and how they speak of their wife and their mother-in-law ---

As many of you have attested Doug always spoke with great fondness of Carole when at work and remarked of how fortunate he was --- he told many of us – since he had had two practice marriages – that the third time was certainly charmed --- and if you were ever around the two of them you could tell from the way they interacted and spoke to each other that they loved and cherished one another ---

Carole and Marilyn’s Mother – Miss Louell King was equally adored by Doug --- during her extended illness he was always available to assist and help in anyway to care and comfort her, Carole and Marilyn --- he and Miss Louell shared common interests --- a sweet tooth and movies --- and he thought so much of her in fact he even agreed to care for her sickly and aging poodle “Misty” after Miss Louell passed away --- as you know when Doug made a commitment he would always fulfill it /// a valuable lesson that I am sure was taught by his parents –-- now Misty was an aging old soul herself ---blind and incontinent one day Doug went to the garage to check on her and in frustration he kicked not Misty but her bedding --- later he would tell his own Mother --- Miss Shirley that he was certain that he had received a ghostly and swift kick in the butt that day –

Miss Louell surely watched over him then and I am certain greeted him with open and loving arms when he arrived the other night

Doug was one of those sensitive souls that knew just how much a Mother can mean to their daughters --- he was there for them with never a question asked or a complaint given during those days of illness --- it was in fact at Miss Louell’s funeral that I came to truly know Doug and began to cherish and love himself myself ---

Many of you may not know this but Doug has always had a healthy respect for law enforcement --- he began to show that respect early on in his life --- it seems that around age 16 or so that Mr. Bailey had bought and helped him soup up a 1972 Grand Prix (car shopping was something he and his Dad had in common) – Mr. Bailey said he found out only later that the car with its new carburetor would do about 130 – in fact it ran so good that one night as Doug was being chased by the Knoxville PD he felt badly enough about the fact they couldn’t catch him that he actually stopped and waited for them to catch up --- now after being detained and taken to the jail he pleaded with the officers not to arrest him because most assuredly his dad would not bail him out --- after a stern lecture he was released --- and so his love of law enforcement began

Speaking of cars and trucks --- We all know that Doug loved his cars and trucks almost or maybe even as much as he loved his guns and his wife – his favorite car / Mr. Bailey says growing up / was a 1969 Yellow 396 Chevelle --- but whatever car or truck it was – it was Doug’s way all the way – his vehicles were always immaculate, clean inside and out – he was always buying, selling or trading – it was part of his East Tennessee heritage and one that he exercised all his life

Doug was a big reader --- all of his life --- in fact, around the 4th grade or so it seems that his Mom received a call from the principal of his school wondering when Doug was returning --- knowing full well that she and Mr. Bailey thought he was in school she called his Dad and they crept home --- he would later say that he knew he was in big trouble when he heard the high heels on the stairs --- sure enough Doug had --- how do we say gotten bored with school and would slip back home each day after his parents left --- and there he was curled up in bed with his cat and a book

Yep. our friend Doug was a reader, a researcher, a purveyor of knowledge -- if you know Dean Koontz you knew Doug’s favorite author --- yet Doug read lots of stuff – he satisfied his curiosities by reading and researching --- want to know about Human Growth Hormones or the best work out routine --- Doug was your man --- want to know the best ammo for a Glock or how to clean it in the upper tray of your dishwasher --- look no further than Doug--- want to discuss the latest conspiracy theories on 911, UFOs or psychic phenomena – pull up a chair and talk to any depth you wish – in past days Doug might have been called a Renaissance man – frankly I always thought he was just one of the most inquisitive students of human nature that I have ever had the privilege too know

Doug Bailey could do anything – absolutely anything he set his mind to –-- think about it --- at age 46 he chucks his corporate job --– goes to the Academy and fortunately ends up at Vanderbilt University working eventually on the psy detail

When Doug set out to build his body strength, take off weight, shoot a perfect round at the range, or calm down a recalcitrant psych patient there were few that could match his tenacity

So today I want us to remember Doug Bailey in many different ways, the ways that so many of you shared with me the past two evenings --- so how shall we remember this friend, son, husband and officer?

Let us remember Doug as a man of great conviction --- he agonized over his change in career yet he found his great passion in life and he made it come true --- I admire and respect him greatly for that --- and all of us are benefactors of his pursuit of excellence

Let us remember him as truly a Gentle Giant of a Man yet one who could and would turn on his assertiveness and aggressiveness only when all other avenues had been exhausted ---

Doug was a philosopher and often came out with pithy sayings, "An armed society he would say is a polite society"

Let us remember Doug as one whom we would trust our back to under any circumstance because we knew it was covered by the best

Let us remember him as a fellow traveler on this road of humanity that along with Miss Louell had a sweet tooth and always preferred to choose his own goodies - in fact he often signed his emails to me always self deprecatingly --- Donut Doug

Let us remember Doug as a man that was brought up right with the best of southern values, beliefs and principles --- he was taught by his parents to show and give respect and in return he earned it - he understood and practiced integrity

Let us remember him as humble man with great insight and wisdom for his age that set about with his good nature, humor and intelligence to make things easier for the rest of us and that would today hope that we come closer together as friends and colleagues as the result of his life well lived by example

Let us remember Doug as the officer that by humanizing a situation could sweet talk and then waltz a recalcitrant little old lady into the back of a squad car for transport

Let us remember him as one who wore his “Thunderware” with great pride (and for those of you who don't know what “Thundewear” is see me after the services) and that could buy, sell, trade and talk guns as long as you were interested

Let us remember Doug as an officer that could find humor in most anything and share it at just the right time and in the right tone to make life better for all of us even if it was just for a minute

Let us remember this Gentle Giant of a man as one who was proud to be a called SWAG --- a SWAG --- “A Social Worker with a Gun” – a kind, caring and compassionate soul that would often size up a situation with a homeless person and many times in the end give him his last $5

Let us remember Doug as a friend who understood what was truly real and what was transitory in our world – a self-deprecating and self—effacing person who effectively directed attention to others to help them grow themselves into better people

And let us not forget Doug Bailey was a man of opinions based on strong principles and values --- a conservative fellow -- some might say to the right of Attila the Hun --- I would say simply a man of deeply held convictions bore from a life of experience

Doug knew there was good and bad in this world – that there was right and wrong --- and that the highest calling was the protect and serve

Let us remember him as a soft-spoken, gentle hearted fellow that always knew what to say and when to say it and that always gave wonderful loving hugs to his friends and family.

I miss you Doug Bailey I truly do.

Until next time,

Dr. Darryl

President George W. Bush's "First Pitch" After 9-11

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Freedom Isn't Free - Staff Sgt. John Beale's Arrival Home

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- It is Sunday morning in Kentucky in the summer. Hot and humid. Kay is taking the early hours to do some weed-eating. I did some 2-hours of yard work yesterday and today decided I needed to catch up inside. While checking my e-mail I came across a video and a new blog site. I will share both with you in a moment, however, first I have somethings to get off my heart.

I am over all the political correctness.

Bottom-line: I don't like this President, this Congress or either of the two parties - Republican or Democrats.

No one up there represents me or my viewpoints. I am not alone. I know that from talking to my friends and acquaintances on both sides of the political spectrum. Our country is running amuck!

We have allowed our country to be turned over to a bunch of thugs and pantywaists in Congress on both sides of the aisles. Some of our country elected a President on the basis of something other than common sense.

This is not to suggest that either candidate was that worthwhile frankly.

Somehow we have totally gotten away from what I believe our Founding Fathers intended our country to be.

A once great America, "The Shining City on the Hill" is turning into a version of the socialist Europe and Canadian model; neither of which do I believe is sanctioned by the vast majority of people in the "Real America."

I told my wife the day of 9-11 that all that fawning and singing on the steps of the Capitol and how all of Congress was going to hold hands and have tea together and work united was a bunch of crap - a political show and nothing more.

Was I wrong? No! I wasn't wrong.

I also told her at that time that I wanted to be a part of the fight on the war on terror.

Well, in a small way I contributed but not to the extent and level I wished. I was too old I was told to re-enlist. I was too out-of-date to assist in the intel area. I could not speak any of the languages and had never fought on the desert battlefield.

Yet, I believe that many of us even at our "advanced" age (yes, 59 is looming now) will soon be faced with having to protect what little freedoms we will have left after this President and Congress finishes looting them

It was our "younger men" such as Staff Sgt. John Beale, the 39-year old from Riverdale, Ga. who fought for us in Iraq.

S/Sgt Beale was with the U.S. Army,1st Battalion, 108th Reconnaissance, Surveillance and Target Acquisition Squadron, 48th Infantry Brigade Combat Team, Georgia Army National Guard, Calhoun, Ga.

He was killed by a IED on June 9th.

They brought Sgt Beale home for burial recently and it was videotaped.

What you will see, if you watch this video, will reaffirm for some the values that we as Americans out here in the "Real America" hold dear.

I believe that the vast majority of American still hold the values of freedom, liberty, and a country where we will be left alone to pursue our own dreams without benefit of continuing government intervention or oversight very dear.

A country where we will choose to work for our benefit and not for the benefit of other men.

I have known a number of Sgt. Beales over the years and I can tell you that every one of them without exception believed in the principles and values stated above and in our Constitution.

That is why they voluntarily enlisted.

That is why they chose to defend our country against terrorists. And they do understand that freedom is not free.

Often I have said to my liberal and progressive friends, "We fought for your right to say and do whatever you wish as part of your freedom of expression but it doesn't mean I agree with it or that I condone it."

Frankly, too much of what is going on in our country now is beyond my ability to understand or condone and therefore I choose not to do so.

And having said that I will acknowledge right now that you will hear the pundits on both sides of the political aisle make their audacious commentaries on the "war" and those that fight it.

Those pundits from the progressives on MSNBC, NBC, ABC, and CBS will malign and wring their hands over the war while having thrills run up their legs about the new President.

The Washington Post will solemnly list S/Sgt Beale on their casualty page.

Then you will see the so called conservatives those on the "right" wave their flags and talk proudly how they support the troops and America but how they are now in exile and have to fight their way back into political power.

Both sides are full of it.

The blow-hard blustery crap they spew day in and day out is worthless chatter and noise. Their interest is in ratings and getting and keeping power ladies and gentlemen it is that simple.

What you won't see (except in the video below) is the sincere and deeply felt emotions of the everyday Americans who understand the sanctity of life, the value of freedom and liberty, the intent of the Founding Fathers who said that "All men are created equal and are endowed by their Creator with inalienable rights and that among these are the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness ..."

No, you won't see this type of video on MSNBC, or if you did you would have Keith Olberman or Chris Matthews making some kind of snide comments about us "hillbillys" or "rubes" showing our patriotic fervor.

You probably won't ever see it on Fox News either but if you did it would be to further their ratings and their own vanity.

What you are about to see is the "Real America" yes, the "Red States" showing their respect for a fallen hero - one of their own as it is.

One person remarked that they didn't think they would see this very often where ever it was they lived.

Well sir, you are mistaken when it comes to thinking that about the South.

Most of us who had parents that raised us right especially in the South still pull over to the side of the road when a funeral procession passes. Many of us even get out of our cars and bow our heads in reverence.

There is a "Real America" out here Mr. President and Congress.

In this "Real America" we are the taxpayers that you want more money from to pay for your global warming, your housing and car company bail-outs, your single payer health insurance travesties, your trips to Chicago and Paris and the luxuries that you in Congress think you are entitled to by being there.

And yes Congress (both sides of the fence boys and girls - both sides), you bunch of fawning sycophants, there is a "Real America" out here. An America where we still honor our fallen heroes.

The vast majority of us still believe we have to fight and die for our freedom and liberty and an America that believes it is better to take the war to the bastards than to fight it on our on soil.

No, I don't expect this President and Congress, or those that want government to be their "Sugar Daddy" would understand much of this.

In reality I don't really care if they do or not but now and then you have to get this stuff off your heart and chest.

Now, if I haven't bored you to death with my commentary, or upset you so much you can't think straight, then sit back, turn up the speakers and get you a tissue.

This video was shared by Dr. Ignatius Piazza
(http://www.ignatius-piazza-front-sight.com/)

The video was taken by Rep. Steve Davis from the front seat of a patrol car that escorted the body of S/Sgt Beale home.

Thank you S/Sgt Beale. May you rest in peace.

Simper Fi, Dr. Darryl

Should We All Just Go 'John Gault'?

"Everyone has the right to make his own decision(s), but none has the right to force his decision on others." --- Ayn Rand ('The Virtue of Selfishness', Chapter 12) {WMail Issue #10}

From Tybee Island, Ga. --- There were some big storms rolling through the low country last night and as I lay awake listening to the thunder, comforting my little buddy "Little Bit," I began to think about the fact that I started working at age 13.

Today, at age 58 approaching 59, that means that I have worked close to half a century. For 46 years of my life I have worked and paid taxes. I have tried to grow an estate, maximize my wealth and talent, continue my education and give back in a meaningful way to society not just through my taxes but also through my charity.

I am now being told by the POTUS and current Congress that I will be penalized through higher taxes that will be redistributed to those in need of health care, midnight basketball, new bridges and transit systems to nowhere, more money for the public school system and the endless array of publicly funded programs that have no accountability whatsoever.

As I lay awake listening to the night sounds of the storm I came to understand what Dr. Sigmund Freud meant by the two most important things in a man's life is "love and work."

Both of these have at times in my life alluded me in fulfillment. Man I believe is always searching for unconditional love and meaningful work.

I came away from this contemplation thinking that maybe it is time to simply go "John Gault" and let the looters on both sides of the political spectrum in Congress loot somewhere other than my pocketbook.

What do I mean?

"Who is John Gault?"

John Gault was the fictional character in Ayn Rand's classic novel Atlas Shrugged.

After many years of not reading this book yet being encouraged to do so by many friends on the conservative and libertarian side of the political fence I did so the past two months. The book is more than 500 pages yet once you get into it if you have any sense of outrage at what is going on now in our once free and capitalistic country you will become even more outraged.

What Rand wrote about in 1958 is today's world where the government has nationalized and socialized business and industry.

In the book the government has turned the country into a socialist welfare state because its "leaders" believe all wealth should be redistributed.

John Gault led the strike in this novel to shut down the "engines of the world" and invited those who were or would be the producers to join him in Gault's Gulch where they would produce only enough to sustain themselves and work for no other man's benefit.

Recently on Pajamas TV (www.pjtv.com), Dr. Helen Smith, a Knoxville, Tenn. psychologist, noted that many people are considering how to become present day "John Gaults" in other words if the administration is going to penalize us as producers for earning more by taking more in the form of taxes then how can we "John Gault" it by earning less and enjoying life more?

Seems pretty simple to me POTUS and Congress, you want to tax anyone earning above $250,000 or is it $150,000 VP Biden?

Whatever level you choose you can bet that from that point forward those of us whom you count on to produce your taxes may just decide to earn less and less, maybe even reduce our production to the level that we can also sign up for your redistribution and giveaway programs.

Yes, it has been 46-years that I have diligently worked, saved and at times maybe even sacrificed some of my life spirit to be a good, patriotic tax paying citizen. Oh, I will still pay the tax man until I die in some form or fashion, because there are even hidden taxes now that we all must pay to get along, but should I work for the other man's needs and at his whims when he is not willing to work for himself and pay his own share?

I recommend you listen to this interview with Dr. Smith at:

http://www.pjtv.com/video/Ask_Dr_Helen/PJTV_Daily_Oct_29th_Dr_Helen/676/1951/

then decide for yourself your own future.

I look forward to meeting you Mr. Gault!

Love, peace and grace, Dr. D

America is NOT a Democracy - It Never Was!

From Tybee Island, Ga. --- It always bothers me when I hear people refer to our form of government as a democracy. It is simply not so and was never intended by our founding fathers. Freedom comes from the Republic form of government - The Rule of Law. Government must be limited for us to have our freedoms and our liberty. Enjoy this very instructional video:

Wonderings Amongst the Swamps of Tybee

From Tybee Island, Ga. --- We are finally "back home" again on the island.

As I cross the Bull River bridge there is something in the air that reminds me that this is where I need to be right now in my life. It is a place where I "ground" myself and find contentment even in those days of stress. It is the haven for my soul and my place to come and reflect and reconnect with people who started out as strangers only to become dear friends. It is a place to rejuvenate the heart and help it mend from the many breaks it has had in its life.

Crossing that bridge in the afternoon with the sun sinking behind you as you look East to the Atlantic and see the expanse of colors and shades of intensities between light and dark you realize that for some of us this is a special place.

There also is a smell to the island. I think it is that combination of salt spray and decay, paper mills and diesel fuel, and detritus from the swamps and low country. It permeates the nose as you meander across the causeway. It is always there. Intensities of the smell only vary depending on the direction of the wind.

It is at this island that now and then in life you get the opportunity to meet folks that end up becoming not just friends but dear friends.

Tim and Allison over on the adjacent Wilmington Island are on that list. This past weekend they were kind enough to host a "welcome back to the island" BBQ for us and some of our "dog park" friends.

Now, as most of you know I have written about Tim before in these pages - we share a common phobia related to monkeys - Allison, Tim's wife and most undoubtedly "better half," is a home office employee for Lockheed Martin and one of the most fantastic chefs I have had the privilege of knowing.

They also are the proud parents of a blonde Lab - Lucy, who like all our "kids" finds that way of creeping into your heart and grabbing hold not to let go any time soon.

I have found that you can often go through life and not take the time to sit and visit with strangers who may become friends and that is what this island provides me the time to do when I am here.

Kay and I are more than glad that we have had the opportunity to break bread, sip wine and jaw the bone with these two fine people that we count as dear friends because all too often we don't take that time.

"Happiness is time spent with a friend and looking forward to sharing time with them again," Lee Wilkinson said and I couldn't say it any better.

Love, peace and grace, Dr. Darryl

MSNBC Republicans: Steven Crowder & AlfonZo Rachel Join Forces for an Everyday MSM Promo

From Tybee Island, Ga. --- I could not have said or performed it better. Even though I am moving more toward a Libertarian viewpoint daily I can still appreciate the humor. Dr. Darryl

MSNBC Republicans

http://www.pjtv.com/v/2012

Obama Beach?

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- Is the entire world so enamoured with the POTUS they get tongue-tied? PM Brown you owe every single veteran an apology immediately. My WWII veteran friends knowing he won't I will tell you I am embarrassed for our British friends and allies and I know they would all issue their personal apology given the opportunity.

We Will Miss You Coach G

Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- When I was in the 7th grade at Caldwell County Junior High School in Princeton, Ken., now some 45 years ago a short, squat extremely Italian-looking fellow and his lovely wife showed up to begin what was to be a love affair with Princeton and high school athletics.

I won't bother you with all the athletic parts of the story of Coach Al Girodano, "Coach G" as he was fondly called by those who played for him, or not, because there are others who can do a much better job of that.

Nope, I want to share with you though a short story about a young man, maybe around 14 at the time, whose father was not at home and who looked high and low for father figures. Coach G, along with Principal Bill Brown, Teacher Riley Dennington, Editor Gid S. Pool, and Printmaster Lowell Hobby were a few of those "fathers" that "adopted" me when I needed it the most.

I never played any sports for Coach G. I was never a sports hero. I was not even very good at whatever sport I tried except maybe racquetball where I did now and then perform pretty well.

I was the classic "nerd" before being a "nerd" was cool.

I was the sports photographer for the local newspaper, the score-keeper for the Little and Lassie league teams. I was the "fringe" guy always on the edge of all the sports but never one to be coached by Coach G.

But there is one thing that even to this day some 45-years later I remember about Coach G that makes me smile and comforts me.

One day when I was at the ballpark all alone and feeling pretty down, bouncing a ball off the wall and catching it, Coach G came by and he asked me if I would like to drive his tractor and cut some grass.

What 14-year old that craved male attention from such a prestigious fellow as Coach G wouldn't?

I never knew if Coach G knew it or not but that day I felt like one of his "boys."

Coach G. helped me that day to feel needed and wanted. And to this day I have always been grateful for that. To him it was probably nothing much at all, and most likely he never even remembered it.

Not me. When I heard of his passing the other day as I was enroute to the airport to a long-standing business commitment I was greatly saddened because I had never told him how much that seemingly insignificant act of kindess meant to me.

I had seen the Coach at our high school class reunion in 2008. Now and then I saw his wife or daughters Jill and Joni here or there.

But I was always in awe of "The Coach" and never went out of my way to speak only when spoken to. But Coach G was as important to me as any young man or woman he ever coached in any sport.

That hot summer day in 1964 he gave me hope and purpose even if it was nothing more than "helping" him to mow the grass.

Strange the little "seemingly insignificant" things we remember about people isn't it?

However, let us never forget that sometimes it is not what we say or do to or for others but how we make them feel that ultimately counts.

Kay and I send our warmest thoughts and prayers to Mrs. G and Jill and Joni. We do know the heartache that comes with losing loved ones. Yet ...

"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight." --- Kahlil Gibran

Love, peace and grace, Dr. D

Photo from the Times-Leader, Princeton, Ky

Geez Stop It Already! BHO and Michelle Deserve To Be Left Alone

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- Okay, enough is enough! The POTUS and his wife should be able to go off and enjoy a date night without any politician commenting one way or another. Stop it --- all of you hatemongers and politicians. You have better things to be doing than commenting on the private date lives of the POTUS and the First Lady. Enough already!


"President Barack Obama made good on a campaign promise to his most important supporter Saturday night — his wife, Michelle. The president and first lady jetted to a date in New York late Saturday afternoon, aides and media in tow."

Ben Stein's Last Column - The Real Heroes

Ben Stein's final column --

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- I have always liked this fellow Ben Stein. For some reason he just strikes me as the kind of guy you would like to sit and have a drink and some good conversation with maybe over a hunk of grilled steak. So, when my friend Dave Sturges sent me Mr. Stein's "Last Column" and I read it I was compelled to share it with all my readers as well.

I concur Mr. Stein that the real heroes, especially in today's society and world, are not the Hollywood or Eastern Seaboard elite. In fact one of my real heroes is Lt. Col. Ty Edwards, a fine Marine, who like many is now recovering from wounds he suffered while on duty to protect the world in the "War on Terror." Oops, I forgot, that's no longer the politically correct term but alas before I regress into some inane commentary on my part let me share with you Ben Stein's last column ... Dr. D.

For many years Ben Stein has written a biweekly column called 'Monday Night At Morton's.' (Morton's is a famous chain of Steakhouses known to be frequented by movie stars and famous people from around the globe.) Now, Ben is terminating the column to move on to other things in his life. Reading his final column is worth a few minutes of your time.

How Can Someone Who Lives in Insane Luxury Be a Star in Today's World?

As I begin to write this, I 'slug' it, as we writers say, which means I put a heading on top of the document to identify it. This heading is 'eonline FINAL,' and it gives me a shiver to write it. I have been doing this column for so long that I cannot even recall when I started. I loved writing this column so much for so long I came to believe it would never end.

It worked well for a long time, but gradually, my changing as a person and the world's change have overtaken it.. On a small scale, Morton's, while better than ever, no longer attracts as many stars as it used to. It still brings in the rich people in droves and definitely some stars. I saw Samuel L. Jackson there a few days ago, and we had a nice visit, and right before that, I saw and had a splendid talk with Warren Beatty in an elevator, in which we agreed that Splendor in the Grass was a super movie. But Morton's is not the star galaxy it once was, though it probably will be again.

Beyond that, a bigger change has happened..? I no longer think Hollywood stars are terribly important. They are uniformly pleasant, friendly people, and they treat me better than I deserve to be treated. But a man or woman who makes a huge wage for memorizing lines and reciting them in front of a camera is no longer my idea of a shining star we should all look up to.

How can a man or woman who makes an eight-figure wage and lives in insane luxury really be a star in today's world, if by a 'star' we mean someone bright and powerful and attractive as a role model? Real stars are not riding around in the backs of limousines or in Porsches or getting trained in yoga or Pilates and eating only raw fruit while they have Vietnamese girls do their nails..

They can be interesting, nice people, but they are not heroes to me any longer. A real star is the soldier of the 4th Infantry Division who poked his head into a hole on a farm near Tikrit, Iraq. He could have been met by a bomb or a hail of AK-47 bullets. Instead, he faced an abject Saddam Hussein and the gratitude of all of the decent people of the world.

A real star is the U.S. soldier who was sent to disarm a bomb next to a road north of Baghdad. He approached it, and the bomb went off and killed him..

A real star, the kind who haunts my memory night and day, is the U.S. soldier in Baghdad who saw a little girl playing with a piece of unexploded ordnance on a street near where he was guarding a station. He pushed her aside and threw himself on it just as it exploded. He left a family desolate in California and a little girl alive in Baghdad.

The stars who deserve media attention are not the ones who have lavish weddings on TV but the ones who patrol the streets of Mosul even after two of their buddies were murdered and their bodies battered and stripped for the sin of trying to protect Iraqis from terrorists.

We put couples with incomes of $100 million a year on the covers of our magazines. The noncoms and officers who barely scrape by on military pay but stand on guard in Afghanistan and Iraq and on ships and in submarines and near the Arctic Circle are anonymous as they live and die.

I am no longer comfortable being a part of the system that has such poor values, and I do not want to perpetuate those values by pretending that who is eating at Morton's is a big subject.

There are plenty of other stars in the American firmament...the policemen and women who go off on patrol in South Central and have no idea if they will return alive; the orderlies and paramedics who bring in people who have been in terrible accidents and prepare them for surgery; the teachers and nurses who throw their whole spirits into caring for autistic children; the kind men and women who work in hospices and in cancer wards.

Think of each and every fireman who was running up the stairs at the World Trade Center as the towers began to collapse. Now you have my idea of a real hero.

I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters This is my highest and best use as a human. I can put it another way. Years ago, I realized I could never be as great an actor as Olivier or as good a comic as Steve Martin or Martin Mull or Fred Willard--or as good an economist as Samuelson or Friedman or as good a writer as Fitzgerald. Or even remotely close to any of them.

But, I could be a devoted father to my son, husband to my wife and, above all, a good son to the parents who had done so much for me. This came to be my main task in life. I did it moderately well with my son, pretty well with my wife and well indeed with my parents (with my sister's help). I cared for and paid attention to them in their declining years. I stayed with my father as he got sick, went into extremis and then into a coma and then entered immortality with my sister and me reading him the Psalms.

This was the only point at which my life touched the lives of the soldiers in Iraq or the firefighters in New York. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters and that it is my duty, in return for the lavish life God has devolved upon me, to help others He has placed in my path. This is my highest and best use as a human

Faith is not believing that God can. It is knowing that God will. - Ben Stein

Now You Have Gone and Done It! Beer and Wine Tax on It's Way!

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- Okay all my liberal, progressive friends I have tried to hold my voice on the election of BHO and this "Congress" but today enough is enough. You have stopped just meddling - I mean geez imagine BHO and this Congress owning a car company - now you want to do this to all of us? I thought you were clearly NOT going to raise taxes on anyone making less than $250,000 a year? Why could I ever believe such political nonsense? So, all my progressive buddies now join the rest of us in the party lounge as you too will pay more for your drinks! Belly up to the bar. Read more here and cry in that $7 beer!

Get Ready the Beer and Wine Taxes Are Headed Your Way Brother Paul!

http://www.facebook.com/ext/share.php?sid=86810233143&h=WAQlm&u=FgFdh&ref=nf

Dr. D.

Reflections on Sunday Before Memorial Day Monday

UPDATE: I was mistaken. The ceremony was Friday not Saturday and my friend Rachel Vickery was kind enough to send a photo to reassure me there was a crowd. My apologies for jumping to an inappropriate conclusion based on lack of sufficient data. Dr. D.

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- When one of my ole buddies contacted me today to wish me a good Memorial Day and to concede, “They forget us” I was saddened again by what I saw, or maybe what I didn’t see, yesterday in Oak Grove.

The “Traveling Wall”, a replica of the Vietnam Memorial Wall came to Oak Grove just outside Fort Campbell, Ky this weekend. Yesterday at 10 a.m. there was to be a welcoming ceremony. I debated going but woke up early and convinced myself that I would. I have seen and visited the traveling version two other times to pay my respects to two of my brothers and I believe for some reason any chance I get I should again.

I got to the Wall 15-minutes ahead of schedule. There were six of us there not including spouses. Four WWII veterans and two of my age and I waited until 10:30 and no one showed up to do the ceremony nor did any other members of the public or any politicians.

Surely I must have been mistaken about the time the ceremony was to be held. I have never known a goldbrick politician that didn’t go out of their way to wrap themselves in the flag and praise the military especially when it was to their advantage or they were in campaign mode. Whatever mistake I made no one was there at 10 a.m. or even 10:30 a.m. Did they show up later? Probably so and I just had the time wrong. However, the empty feeling that my ole Balmer buddy had about “being forgotten” – well, I can understand how he and so many others might feel that way.

Finally though after walking through the traveling museum called the “Last Fire Base” I wrapped it up went to the Waffle House and had breakfast with a couple of old vets who were as disappointed as I was in the lack of interest. Then I went home and me and my dog curled up in the recliner and watched old sci-fi movies from the 50s and had a couple of cocktails and we got through another day.

Let it be known veterans many of us don’t forget you and appreciate all you gave and still give for our country it is just sometimes we don’t do a very good job of letting you know that and for that I am profoundly sorry.

Simper Fi to you all,

Dr. Darryl

Some Thoughts By Me

This is my friend, and an outstanding and remarkable lady, Carlana Stone, author of "Never Give In, Never Give Up" - her life story about being paralyzed when she was 17-years old and not letting that stop her from skydiving, riding her specially outfitted Harley, learning to fly and scuba diving among just a few of her talents. I highly recommend her book.

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley ---

Finally after what seems forever I have returned home to Lake Barkley! An almost three week business/professional jaunt out into the world and I had these experiences:

1. Arrived in Iowa to find my business associate hospitalized. Rush to ER and find her and we spend two days trying to figure out her issues. The doctor did, Fixed it and we continued our workshop on Leadership Development for the City of Storm Lake. Kudos to Hertz Rental Car Company's Manager at Omaha Airport - Donna - she turned on the utmost in customer service for me when I really needed it. Thanks to her and everyone at Hertz for getting me a car with a GPS system. And whether Dawn and Patti like you or not "Edith" you are my favorite GPS system!

2. Assisted the Storm Lake Community Health Center in getting focused on developing a strategic plan of action - a mandate and simply good business! Great work they are doing and becoming focused will make them even better.

3. Went to Arizona from Iowa to see a dear friend who is scheduled for at least one "mega dose" of radiation following removal of malignant tumors on her vocal chords and removal of thyroid. We enjoyed the Phoenix Zoo on a bike carriage, some good Mexican and Thai food, and did the spa thing - yep, got another manicure and pedicure and massage! Glenn Nesbitt at Tybee is responsible for getting me hooked on this pedicure thing!

I also confronted, and maybe defeated my anxiety, (if not fear) of the dreaded Spider Monkey, hell all monkeys, and I called my friend Tim to let him know of my efforts to resolve this! He didn't volunteer, of course, to come out and help but then that's another story. Don't get me started. Cute? Hmmmm, I have another word for these peeing monsters but will not use it here.

4. Returned to Kentucky briefly while we packed up to then went to Riverside, California to do the 12th annual Space Day for our client Lockheed Martin at Longfellow Elementary School. Probably the best one ever. Kay did magnificent job of organizing - she always does. I was the "grunt" labor along with my "conservative daughter" Penelope. Enjoyed lots of Mexican food and staying at the Mission Inn. If you have not been there go! Ask for Raul, the waiter with personality and utmost customer service. He knows how to fix the bacon that Penelope and I like so well.

5. Finally home. Gathering data and information for a proposal with Battelle and intel gathering for a client in Kentucky. Soon though it will be Memorial Day, or as Mom called it when I was a kid, "Decoration Day."

6. The "Traveling Vietnam Wall" will be in Oak Grove this Memorial Day weekend. I plan to go down and pay my respects and I encourage all of you who know veterans to offer your thanks to them this weekend. We are free men and women - albeit we are losing our freedoms more daily - thanks to the veterans many of whom gave the ultimate sacrifice.

And if the Sec of Homeland Security doesn't appreciate them I damn well do! THANKS to all the men and women, gruntled or disgruntled, that have kept this country free so that political jerks like Janet N., Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, John Murtha and John Kerry (D-Vietnam Veteran) can speak their simple minds whether I agree with them or not.

Simper Fi Brothers and Sisters - Simper Fi,

LPG, Dr. D

THANKS to you all

To my best friend ever - Mr. Stimper - I miss you every day ole man!

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek on Lake Barkley --- Many of you have stood by me in the happy and sad times, the lighter and darker times, and through the good and the bad and even ugly times. For that I thank you. And I encourage you to watch this video that says it all so well.

Stand By Me

Love, peace and grace, Dr. D

We Will Miss You and I Will Always Regret Not Having the Opportunity

From Tranquilla II on the Back of Eddy Creek - Lake Barkley -- If the rumors I have just heard this evening are true - and they are still rumors but seem to be based in fact - one of my old high school friends and chums from the 60s is dead. The stories vary, however, it seems he may have taken his own life.

As someone who has struggled with depression all his life, I can attest to the horrible state of mind it can and does put you into and without relief what it can lead to. I have been to the point of having to lock away the gun from the bullets because I feared what I would do if they were easily accessible. I am thankful that most of those days are in the distant past and yet I am always alert to the old "Black Dog" as Sir Winston Churchill called the malady sneaking upon me.

Depression is one of the most insidious and meanness afflictions Man has ever had to deal with.

It is with much regret and a deep sadness that I have heard of this and had no idea that my friend could have needed help. I have not seen him in over 40-years but did hear about him now and then since we moved back to Kentucky.

I would have given anything to have sat him down and listened.

Sometimes my friends that is truly all we need. Good listeners are hard to find. Don't pass up the opportunity if it is presented to you.

The following story that came about in December 1996, hard to believe it was now 13-years ago, sums up some of my feelings.

Love, peace and grace to my friends' family and to all of you.

Dr. D.

We Will Miss You Billy Boy

Yesterday I attended the funeral of my first cousin William Chalmers Dorn Jr. Billy to almost

everyone.

Billy was thirty-seven-years-old and hadn't lost an ounce of baby fat since he was born. What he

had lost, nine months ago, was 85% of his skin in a freakish flash fire that happened when he was outside

burning some leaves. For the same amount of time it takes a human life to be born, the ghost that Billy had

become crept quietly toward the light.

First, for the longest time, in a coma in a burn unit in Paducah, Kentucky; then, for a much shorter

time, in the ironically named Bryan Dorn VA Hospital in Louisville. Finally, after coming out of his coma long

enough to say he hoped he hadn't caused his mother too much worry, The Captain told this former Coast

Guard sailor to "Stand down..." Last Sunday Billy died.

Billy is the oldest child and the only son of Chalmers and Jeanne Dorn. Chalmers is my mother's

brother. Chalmers has always intimidated me, at least until the last several years. Chalmers was an MP in

the military before joining the City Police Force. Chalmers is a big burly man who maintains the

steeliest eye contact I have ever seen and tends to twitch in an imperceptible way even when he is at "rest";

in short, he gives the impression of restrained violence.

In the late 60's, three things happened to Chalmers: Jeanne gave birth to twins that both died within

a day, his father, my grandfather, died, and he was thrown off a third story fire escape during a race riot and

landed on his back on a nail. After that, Chalmers was never the same man.

Jeanne is a part Indian school teacher who is the best cook I have ever known. She is, if there ever

was one, an earth mother. When she smiles, you see the sun coming up over the fields. When she

welcomes you into her home, you know she means it. When she moves her largish frame around the

kitchen, getting this or that dish of beans laced with fatback or plate of coconut cake ready for the table, you

know she is really thinking about you the whole time. When she breathes, Chalmers is glad to be alive.

The last time I saw Chalmers and Jeanne, which was years ago, they took me to a local stock car

race. Chalmers loves cars. He buys a new one every year. Because he used to be a cop, Chalmers enjoys

the largesse of his fellow police officers.

Nevertheless, on the way to the races, Jeanne said, "Chalmers, you're going too slow," and took

the wheel. After that, we spent more time in the median than we did in the road and passed several

patrolmen who simply waved at us before we slid into the dirt area behind the pits at the race track. I never

saw the race. I passed out from exhaustion at the race getting to the race. I dunno who won.

Jeanne and Chalmers' two other children, Beth and Jeannie Marie, are indescribably beautiful. Beth is

married to an almost stereotypical big hunk of a man who never seems to be unhappy from Georgia;

together, they have four children, one of whom, Lisa, at age thirteen, has her black belt and wants to be an

astrophysicist. Jeannie Marie, who is short like my grandmother, married a man who is roughly her height

and has one child. Jeannie Marie looks like Pocahontas.

Billy never married. He liked girls, he told my aunt, but he was too shy. After he left the Coast Guard, he

came back home to live with his parents and got a job as a security guard. His real job was to look after his

parents and his sisters.

Sometimes he and Chalmers farmed. Chalmers was once a big farmer, two thousand acres. Soy

beans mostly. Billy did most of the work. But mostly he lived with Chalmers and Jeanne.

Once, in the middle of winter, Jeannie Marie needed a typewriter ribbon to finish a paper she was

doing for a graphics design class she was taking at a local technical college. Billy drove her downtown in

his truck and along the way hit a sheet of ice that caused him to skid down a street and hit several cars in

the process. When the truck came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, Billy immediately got out of the truck

and called the police.

When the policeman arrived, he asked Billy, "Why didn't you just keep going?" Billy, irate, replied,

"They're someones' cars!"

The most moving part of the funeral for me was when they folded the American flag on Billy's

mahogany coffin and handed it to his mother. The man who folded it, who must have been burying people

before I was born, folded the flag with such great care I got goose bumps.

It must have taken him five minutes. Religiously he smoothed out every crease and made every

turn and then very very patiently waited for his young assistant to make the final tuck perfect before he

handed the field of stars to my aunt and whispered something to her that I couldn't hear. While he did this, I

had flashes of Americans landing against impossible odds at Normandy and Confederate soldiers going

over the top at Cemetery Ridge and Billy in the Coast Guard rescuing an eight-year-old on a catamaran that

his mother shouldn't have rented for him.

Billy was a big boy, although not as big as his father. He had a great smile and to the best of my

knowledge he never hurt anyone. In particular, he loved animals and children.

I never pushed Billy around when we were children because he giggled too much. Billy never got

married. He was too shy.

Rest in Peace, Billy Boy.

Rest in Peace.

10-7

December 4, 1996