Family Feud

FAMILY FEUD(s)!!!

by

B.D. Adams

©2018

   How can families just go along? Not faultless … not perfect … just family.

   My immediate family is my son and his family. He and I have been through the trials and tribulations many mothers and sons have gone through (and other combinations). Not perfect, but love was always there.

   Once he realized that I was not just a crazy-old-woman, the lightbulb went on for him! Then, once his children came along, he actually calls me for MY advice about childcare. Amazing how that works.

And the survey says?

   Because my husband and his son have the same first name, Dan will be for mine and Daniel for the younger. He is married (Dan and I attended the wedding in CA) and has children, but only one more than my son.

   The very nice thing for Dan is his son can talk “car.” Daniel will call his dad to pick his brain about cars, engines and other things. One thing Dan would really like more from his son is to spend more time together – on the phone or in person.  

And the survey says?

   One situation that really makes this a Family Feud, which has grown thorns in the family -- has to do with Dan’s daughter. Yep, I’m bringing this up. The feud with her began about a decade ago.

   In the Spring of 2007, after Dan and I moved to Alton Bay, his daughter came to see our house by herself. Her husband didn’t come with her and neither did either child (two at that time). She had visited at the cottage a couple of times from where we had moved.  

   Dan gave her the tour of the property and the house and garage. At this point, everything was regular.

   There was something personal Dan and I wanted to tell her. We had discussed this and decided we should let her know. I had tested positive for HPV. Neither of us knew anything about this virus, so we were concerned. I was scheduled for a biopsy to better determine a diagnosis.

   With what Dan and I decided, I told her this. Our intention was for her to support her father, if I did, indeed, have cancer. He loved his daughter and hoped for her moral support, if needed.

   Well, I no sooner got the words out of my mouth, she yelled in anger at me!

   Dan and I had had no idea that she’d react this way! She accused me of only wanting sympathy!! 

   "That’s all you want!!!" she yelled.  

   Dan was beside himself!! He couldn’t understand why his daughter was so rude and hateful to me, which could only include him. Those were his thoughts. There are a few other items, but what I have typed now are the main issues for Dan. What she doesn’t know is I had tried to get him to talk to her.

   She gave a milked down version of what I’ve just typed to her brother and her sister-in-law. She said I was the one who yelled. I had no reason to yell at her, except to get her to quit yelling at me AND her father.

   Am I faultless? No, I am not. His daughter really pissed me off when she accused me of only wanting sympathy. She also bad-mouthed HER mother. I wasn't close to her mother, but she needed to be more considering of her mother! 

And the survey says!!!

   Son Daniel and his family do not live in California any longer. They are in Tennessee – much closer to us. Dan’s daughter doesn’t live in Vermont any longer. They live in New Hampshire, but south from us. Wouldn’t it be nice to have all the families around? Perhaps even with my son?

The survey says?

A modern extended Family!!

   I could give a rat’s ass what she thinks about me, but her father would be more than pleased if she’d make nice to me. She had told me in an email that she never wanted to hear from me ever again. I have honored her wish. Haven't contacted her for 11 years.

    If anyone reads this and speaks to her, let her know that I DID TRY to get her dad to talk to her. With her attitude towards me, though, her father was in no way anxious to ever be around her again. 

Dan and Brandy's Home

Abstract Art

Hans Degner

An Abstract Artist

Hans Degler 2016

by B.D. Adams ©2017

A

 person becomes an adult. With all the intended work ethics, he works hard and makes a success of his life. Became a builder, a construction business. Satisfying, however, something lacked. Spent twenty years at his vocation – a provider for his family – made his parents proud!

   Then a decision was made! A change was made … a choice that was good, but not of the norm!

   This is how it has gone for Hans Christian Degner of Copenhagen, Denmark. He was born in Denmark. He is now an artist – an Abstract Artist. He has studied fine art on his own and at Aarthus Art Akademi in Aarhus, Denmark. On the Mainland – on the peninsula. This is an accredited school known throughout the world. 

   He closed his construction business in 2006 when he chose to put paint to canvas, or any other format. His paintings began to sell in 2009. A tedious time for this serious artist, but he prevailed!

   As an accomplished artist, Hans’ work has been deemed awe-inspiring, as well as profound. His eye for color and design has taken him to the realms of Pollock, Picasso, and Renoir.

   Hans has displayed his paintings all over Scandinavia, as well as all over Europe. The style he has embraced is of his artistic personal way. He has had paintings shown in Orleans and Paris, France -- Geneva, Switzerland – Stockholm, Sweden – London, England – to name a few. With the popular attention his work has generated in these areas, his paintings have been described as “moving … beautiful … powerful.”

   Hans Degner is the new generation for abstract art. With his success in Europe and the U.K., he wants to become better known all over the world, especially in the United States. He wants to add the art lovers of the United States to his list of fans.

   His work is on Facebook and he can be contacted via:

hc.degner@live.dk 

Hans Degler

Rich Or Poor

What is a Rich Man?

By B.D. Adams

©2017

H

ow can you meet a rich man? I don’t know.

   One woman, I met a long time ago said, “You have to think rich.”

   “Think rich? Like, think about gold and diamonds?” I wanted to verify.

   “No, silly. It’s just a metaphor,” she said.

   I was impressed at her word usage.

   “Like going to polo matches or to art museums?” I asked.

   She gave me a quizzical expression. I understood.

   In my mind, how you live your life would determine if you were rich or not. Money and wealth can be some of it, but the way a life is carried out might be the biggest definition!

   Don’t get me wrong. Financial wealth is not to be sneezed at. That is freedom. That is the difference between hamburgers and lobsters (or any other analogy).

   I understand the idea of “Think Rich.” A woman should dress to impress with that idea. To look rich is as important as the thinking part. Wear silk or cashmere, Chanel or Ralph Lauren! Personally, I love the feel of silk.

   And wear only real jewels – real diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds. The choice of perfume is important, as well.

   Stay away from K-Mart or Walmart. Hey, I shop at those stores, but then I’m not trying to snag a rich man.

   Of course, honesty and communication would be a plus, no matter if the man is rich or not. Those qualities should be paramount!

   What kind of man do I have? I have a man who is honest, communicates very well, and truly loves me. In other words, I have a rich man!!

Article -- Protests

To Protest or Not to Protest –

That Is Not the Question!

By

B.D. Adams  ©2017

   There are many reasons to protest in the world. For more understanding, more righteousness, more justice. Some reasons are extremely hard to comprehend --- ISIS or ISIL, for example.

   When there are even two people who do not see eye to eye, an eye for an eye confrontation can occur. Even with the non-violent protests, violence seems to rear its ugly head.

   And, with these thoughts, differences of opinion are more common – and as ridiculous.

** Several Readers might deem me as anti-veteran. That was and is the farthest from the minds of MOST people I know and knew. We wanted the war and discriminations to end – peacefully. However, the angry activists got more attention. **

   When I was 20, I decided I wanted to go back to Texas, which made my mother deliriously happy. I had been attending Ohio State University in Columbus OH. I had experienced the protests/ riots against the university and the establishment and the Vietnam War. Those were our reasons in 1970.

   For my (ahem) personal reasons, I went back to Ft. Worth, Texas. My mother and younger brother, Eddie, lived there.

   I hadn’t gotten that far in college, so I got a waitress job at a Big Boy Restaurant. I wanted to decide what my major should be in Texas.

   My brother, age 17, and I had rapport back then. He worked in a grocery store so his days off and mine did not coincide. He wanted me to meet his supervisor.

   Finally, we had days off at the same day. His coworkers were considerate. To me, though, it seemed some of them weren’t sure of what to say to me. I passed it off that they didn’t speak “northern.”

   Then Mr. Murphy, the supervisor, came to meet me and speak with my brother. The man seemed nice. A little older than me and my brother, but that was all right.

   Since my brother was an assistant manager, someone got his attention.

. Then, Mr. Murphy and I were left to each other.

   “I guess you’re not new to Texas,” Mr. Murphy said.

   “No, sir. Was born in Ft. Worth,” I said nicely.

   Perhaps, he thought he needed to show me what he knew about “the north,” so he commented, “You got tired of all the craziness up north to bring you home again.”

   “Excuse me?” I asked rather surprised.

   “I’ve seen the news about all the college riots up north. You were in New York – right?”

   “There were riots in New York. Columbia University. But I wasn’t in New York. I was in Ohio, the University of Ohio,” I proudly informed. “And, yes … we had student riots.”

   “Oh … right. Where those hippie protesters were shot for attacking the National Guard Soldiers.”

   I just looked at this man who really had no idea of what he thought he knew.

   “Excuse me, Mr. Murphy. The students were not hippie instigators. The killings happened at Kent State University. In Kent, Ohio. Many miles from Ohio State. Four students were killed by gunfire from the soldiers.”

   I didn’t berate him for his lack of knowledge or his self-righteous attitude. It was usually next to impossible to correct someone who is so entrenched in their beliefs. I felt it best to tread lightly.

   Thankfully, Eddie returned to rescue me from this man. I gave a small smile and shook Mr. Murphy’s hand. I had always been as polite as possible.

   As my brother and I began to turn away from Mr. Murphy, the older man flashed hand gestures to us. And he laughed heartily, belly laughed.

   Not all that aware of what the gesture meant, I asked Eddie, “What was that about?”

   “Nothing,” Eddie said quickly.

   “Well, Mr. Murphy seemed to think it was pretty funny. Tell me,” I urged with a smile.

   “You won’t like it,” he stated.

   “Hey, brother … I’m a big girl.”

   We were now in the parking lot of the store by his car. Eddie held up four fingers with one hand and with the other hand, he made a zero.

   “It means ‘Kent State zero, the National Guard four.’” Eddie was obviously embarrassed.

   “Next time I say I’m a big girl, tell me to shut-up.” I was calm and stunned.

   That man knew exactly what he was saying when he asked me about the universities and riots. He baited me – the girl-from-Ohio. I fell for his behavior, his country lawyer treatment. No, he was not a lawyer. But that is a good analogy for his behavior. He got what he wanted – his fun.

   I never let anyone bait me again.

Letter to the Editor

2016 Election -- Letter to the Editor

by

B.D. Adams 

   The news that Donald Trump was elected President caused me profound disappointment as a disabled person.

   In 1998, I suffered a stroke which seriously affected my right hemisphere. When I watched Mr. Trump on a news show as he mocked and mimicked a disabled reporter, I was appalled!

   His actions were rude and unfeeling. That conduct was totally inappropriate for someone running for the highest position in the United States. Although I have other issues with Mr. Trump, to see him flailing his arms to mock a disabled person was hurtful to me in an especially personal way.

   I can only hope that Mr. Trump’s promise to “make America Great again” would include his disabled citizens, such as myself and the many others.


**   I was very aware that Mr. Trump, supposedly, was NOT referring to a disabled, Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter with the New York Times who had interviewed the candidate. If that was indeed the case, why did he behavior in that extremely rude manner anyway? Most educated people know that people with physical disabilities are not retarded. 
   Most everyone who knows my Blog, and me, know that I and others like me are just people with physical limitations. Granted, some disabilities are more extreme than others. However, the candidate running for the highest position in the United States should know better than to ridicule or mock any person because of their disabilities. 
   Because of Mr. Trump's callous treatment of an "unknown" disabled person, I sure hope he never mocks or is rude to Stephen Hawking, one of the most intelligent people in the world!
   If nothing else, next time you might see someone -- friend or someone you know -- behave in the same way as Mr. Trump or make an off-the-cuff comment, please consider this Blog Post. **

Article -- Hatred

Deliver Us

By B.D. Adams

© 2016

Hate – Hate – Hate!! Along with Stupidity!!

   Of course, I hate. I hate being interrupted, I hate mosquitoes, I hate waiting in lines, I hated when my mom made me eat liver. We all have something we say we hate!!

   One thing I truly hate more than anything is stupidity!!!!

   A stupid thing, an oxymoron, I’d hear as a kid in Texas, was the phrase “to shoot fish in a barrel.” It meant that something was easy.  

   That could be translated to what Omar Mateen did.

   He walked into a nightclub that welcomed people – human beings -- who weren’t much different from him in looks or desires. Everyone there still danced, hugged and talked with their old friends and new ones.

   Horribly, Mateen began to shoot his fish. The nightclub was his barrel.

   I haven’t heard, as yet, how he acted while he squeezed the AR15 trigger to murder 50 people and wound 53 others. Was he smiling or laughing or shouting profanities?

   Oh, yes … I haven’t mentioned that Mateen HATED homosexuals. He chose the Pulse Nightclub, in Orlando FL, because the clientele was mostly gay/homosexual. He hated them so much he decided to rid, murder as many as he could at that nightclub. Perhaps he thought he was being nice to do his mayhem so near a hospital for the wounded.

   Was this his source of fun? Some people have distorted views of fun. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

   Am I gay? No, I’m not. However – like many heteros (not good grammar, I know) – I have had friends who were LGBT. And, as with friendships, people come and go – straight or gay.

   Many years ago, I would go to a gay bar/nightclub with my boyfriend, at the time, and other friends. To dance, drink and eat whatever the bar offered. I never contracted HIV because I had those friendships.

   See, you don’t get AIDS by being a friend. There’s that stupidity thing again.

   There are still a frightening number of people who are so self-righteous in their beliefs. Whites who hate blacks – Blacks who hate whites – Catholics who hate Protestants. Men who hate women and still get married … and vice versus. And, not to be left out, straights who hate gays!!

   Our country is becoming the melting pot of many negative issues. It’s like, “Go to America. Get a gun and go shoot whoever you want!”

   Now we need to be afraid of going to movie theaters, concerts, schools/colleges or any other gathering for the fear who might be there to kill!

   Fear of the unknown is bad enough.

   I believe in the Constitution. The ideas were appropriate for the time it was ratified. Now, however, the 2^nd Amendment, and a few others, need major overhauls.

   That young man had only bought his weapons a day or so before. Plus, he had been “watched” by the FBI. Hmmm (taps chin) … what does that tell us? He was watched while he bought an AR15 assault rifle?

   The prayer goes, “Deliver us from Evil.” Would God be offended if we amended it to, “Deliver us from hate and stupidity.”

   I feel the word evil has little meaning these days.

   “What? What did you say?” Someone is whispering in my ear. “No, I’m not being stupid. Really!!!”

Med Article

A Drug By Any Other Name

By

B.D. Adams ©2016

   Not being someone who scrutinizes all items in her life, this tidbit managed to get my attention. This last week, I glimpsed something on a TV commercial that perked up my eyes!

   As most people who know me know, I had a hemorrhagic stroke many years ago that has made me somewhat disabled on my right side.

   No sympathy here, readers. This is part of this real story and just a fact.

 One morning several years ago, when I was watching the Today Show, Katie Couric was interviewing a doctor about Over the Counter (OTC) drugs that would cause very high blood pressure and could cause heart attacks and … yes … could cause strokes. Cerebral Vascular Accident (CVA) -- hemorrhagic strokes, bleeding in the brain!

   There were many OTC items shown on the table in front of Katie and the doctor. On the table, I saw there were a couple of things on the table that really made me take note of this interview. There were OTC diet pills. Supposedly, “safe” OTC diet pills, however they could cause very high blood pressure. The one brand I had taken was shown. It was made by the pharmaceutical house Novartis. I just wanted to lose a few pounds, so I bought and took this brand because I felt it would be all right. On the box and the sheet inside the box, nothing was listed about any horrible side effects like heart attack, stroke or death. If I would have seen that warning for this pill, I would not have taken it.

   As it goes … buyer beware! When something is sold in a grocery store, wouldn’t it be deemed as safe for the public? Those pills were proven to cause extremely high blood pressure!

   There was a trial, but the jury decided that the pill made by Novartis did not cause my stroke. There was testimony, by several medical witnesses, that showed the people at Novartis knew their pill was NOT safe. However, the jury believed the drug company.

   A few years after the trial, it became known to me that Novartis had bought the rights to Excedrin, an OTC pain med I had taken for many years. A tablet was even used by the defendant lawyer at the trial to show, possibly, that I was “confused,” couldn’t tell one pill from another. Well, I shot that hypothesis full of holes.

   The diet pill I had taken was very small and white, not cream colored. (It was proved a white pill had been made and distributed to the grocery store where I bought it.) The Excedrin tablet was much larger and had a green tint to it, like the green on the box. Since I had been a pro photographer before the stroke, I could see the subtle tints. I didn’t say what the defendant lawyer wanted me to say. She was flustered.

   I decided that I would never take a medication manufactured by Novartis ever again. Small endeavor, but this was my way to boycott that company. The only way I would take any of their medications would be if IT was the ONLY medication that would save my life. But even then, I would balk – want other opinions.     

   Because of my boycott, I was forced to take generic brands of Excedrin. Plus, I made sure the generic tablets were NOT manufactured by Novartis, as well. I was amazed at how many medications -- brand or generic -- were made by such a dishonest, disreputable company.

   Now, I read better all the items that might concern my health on WebMD or Google. Even with doctor prescribed medications. Like Estrogen, which I learned could cause stroke from blood clots. So, I declined the doctor.

   I had even refused a prescribed med because the manufacturer was -- you guessed it -- Novartis. Then the pharmacies made note – nothing made by that company for this customer.

   As I mentioned above, I noticed a television commercial about Excedrin recently. I had seen the new commercial only a couple times, but paid it no mind. Then, for whatever reason, I noticed a manufacturer’s logo in the upper right of the TV screen. It showed “GSK.” That meant GlaxoSmithKline pharmaceuticals, an English company. Novartis is European, but I have had no gripe with GSK.

   Well, I did my research to see if Excedrin was indeed now being made by GSK and not Novartis. My research showed that GSK and Novartis had merged, but it appeared to me that Novartis was being phased out, possibly from the OTC meds and others.

   If this is correct, I am elated! I can again take the Excedrin brand. I hope GSK is more honest and forthcoming than Novartis.

   This article is not to bury anyone or over praise anyone. It is to act as a warning to the unsuspecting person who wants to take a medicine or is taking a medicine. I didn’t get stroked by the first pill. I took three pills, then I was blind-sided one afternoon. No warning, my right side stopped working. I spent two months in the hospital’s rehab center, however, I have progressed over the 18 years. I have had no other major malady such as heart attack, cancer or another stroke.

   My advice to anyone is to research any medicine your doctor might prescribe or what is now being taken. Especially, if the side-effects have been more than “uncomfortable.”

   There are many sayings like “Buyer beware” and “Different strokes for different folks.” Yep – in the pharmaceutical world these are true.

To Vote

The Right to Vote

By

B.D. Adams ©2016

   The day before the scheduled Presidential Primary here in New Hampshire, we were hit by a snow storm. Not much -- maybe 4”. No matter, that Tuesday morning was sunny with a new layer of snow. The roads had been plowed, so Daniel and I drove to vote in the Primary at our polling location for Alton/Alton Bay.

   Voting is always a crap shoot. That means you never know who will be the winner until the votes are in. This candidate or that candidate did so well in the early campaigns. What happened? Well, it had to be because the candidates that got the voter’s nods did everything right. Or something like that.

   There are so many reasons to say this was right or that was wrong, to point a finger or to cheer for a winner.

   The Democrats had a narrower field than the Republicans did, without a doubt. The Republicans need to weed a few more candidates from their field … in my humble opinion.

   The Right to Vote!! Awww, yes. Voting is a right and should never be taken lightly. To those who believe that it doesn’t matter, voting doesn’t matter, think again. Just remember your history classes – your 20^th Century world history classes!

   If you’ve forgotten what you learned about WWII, here comes a brief reminder of Nazi Germany. From 1933 to 1945, Germany was under a fascist totalitarian state controlled by one man and one party – Adolph Hitler and the Nazi Party! The German citizens had given up their right to vote, gave it to Hitler. They thought he would lead them staunchly.

   What a shame!

   Once Hitler gained his autonomy to rule Germany and many other European countries, he was almost unstoppable! He used his heinous desire to rule unopposed. No political combatants – hence dictatorship. Anyone who opposed was shot on the streets or shipped to the concentration camps. Jews (mostly), Protestants, Catholics and even just regular Germans, those who opposed.

   The German citizens gave up their right to vote, therefore, they had NO say in their lives or government. They should have studied the Roman Empire to get a clue.

   Americans got bits and pieces of news of what the Nazis were doing from letters and some German newspapers smuggled to the U.S. However, those sources were quickly silenced. Then there was no news out of Germany. Only propaganda.

   The citizens truly believed, in the beginning, that Hitler would be the leader they wanted. Little did they know – he would destroy their country!

   Think, really think, how you’d feel about no voice, no recourse. If you can feel the destitution of this situation, then you can understand why The Vote is so precious in our lives! It is our right! One person, one vote!

   Never be too busy to vote -- or worse, never think it doesn’t matter. If you don’t use it, you could lose it. Think about that.

   We are The United States of America. Proud and unwavering in our politics and way of life. Use your vote proudly and with the meaning it was intended.

   Look forward to November, dear readers!

We the People ……

Happiness

Happiness is …..

By

B.D. Adams ©2015

M

y life has been a roller-coaster of emotions and situations. I have been elated with situations, which most people would be, and devastated by situations in the same manner.

    My grandchildren have been a definite source of happiness. Unfortunately, they and their father (my son) live in the Los Angeles area. He is a firefighter and has been so for several years. We visit via Skype, so I have the happiness to see my grandbabies grow-up in real time, sort of.

            Since my stroke in 1998, I have kept progressing, going forward. I have attended all the physical therapy, occupational therapy and psychological sessions I could stand. And, to date, I truly believe I have succeeded to grab the horns of disability as a true survivor!

            Unfortunately, as I have aged with my physical issues, it has become clearer to me that I need to accept the new changes with my body. Mostly my legs.

            Oh, boy … what else?

Daniel and I bought a scooter several years ago. A comfortably padded Pace Saver Plus III. A used one, but it has been a wonderful help as my legs have become less able to keep up with others. Assists mostly when we attend the large car shows that have acres of cars to see!

In the last year, or so, my legs have become … old. I had been able to walk our little dog, but then there has been more pain as I walk. And, I have hated that!

I began to take Sasha, our dog, for walks by using my scooter. She loves to ride on my scooter, but was a bit confused with this new “walking” method. However, it took no time for her to understand, as best as a dog can understand.

With the dog walking, the scooter was kept by the driveway. I would cautiously go down the few steps from our deck to the scooter.

Also, in that time, it has become harder just to walk in general. Like to walk from Daniel’s SUV into different stores like Walmart or Home Depot to access their scooters. So, with the help of a hitch-mounted scooter rack – on the SUV and the ’37 Plymouth Sedan – we take the scooter where we want. You learn how to adapt, improvise, overcome … like a Marine.

I never wanted to appear like a wimp! Independence has been paramount for me. I mean, what do we have if we don’t have our independence?

Well, as it goes, this last weekend, Daniel and a neighbor fellow built a ramp for my scooter to access our deck. It is a thing of beauty! They did a fabulous job.

Daniel rode the scooter up to the deck and let me take over. I rode it down and up a few times. This is my new usable toy, my independence.

Happiness is … whatever you want it to be.

To other disabled people, I would like to say:

“Keep progressing! Don’t give in to your disability – grab it by its horns and take it down. And, don’t hide from the outside! Who cares what others see. We have the pride that life does, indeed, go on. I can’t sing and dance, but I can write … and roll.

Photo by Dan Tourigny

Article -- Unthinkable

The Unthinkable

By

B.D. Adams ©2015

W

e really never try to think about the unthinkable, life’s trauma. Yesterday, another unhappy person – a man – used a gun to murder people in a college classroom! Most of who he had had no connection!

Personally, I have not had issues with people who own guns for hunting or just to do targets. However, when those tools become devices of anger and hate, I am a proponent for gun control!

            Then the NRA will scream, “What about the 2nd Amendment? It says right there ‘the right to bear arms.’”

            No argument there – it is in the Constitution, it is one of our fought for rights by our forefathers.

            When does the “right” make it right to kill people when a deranged person decides it is his or her right to kill because they feel they have the right to have a gun! Chew on that idea. And, it seems that many of the guns are purchased legally by law abiding citizens. Then mayhem happens when the weapons are in the hands of the “unhappy” people.

            Why? Why do the unhappy ones feel it is right to kill as many as they can because they feel they have the right? Why? Do they think about what they are doing or is it just mindless vomit spit out from their warped brains?

            It seems to be the trend for these murderers to target schoolrooms and any other place where people gather. Sickly, like shooting fish in a barrel.

            At Sandy Hook, a young man’s mother felt it was her right to own weapons that could hold off a barrage of home invaders. The young man felt the weapons gave him the right to mass murder elementary school children in their classroom. He made his mother the first in his bloody spree! 

            When I was 16 years old in Texas, Charles Whitman climbed up to the tower at the University of Texas in Austin and behaved as a sniper. This was in 1966. He murdered 16 people in the vicinity of the Texas campus tower. He himself was taken out by local police to end his mayhem. Also, before he took to the tower, he murdered his wife and mother. It was reported that Whitman was abused by his father, so he murdered 16 people who had no connection to him.

            Another mass murderer was Richard Speck. He murdered 8 student nurses in Chicago in 1966. Plus, Ted Bundy, one of the most heinous murderers of modern times. His victims were all women and his treatment of his victims proved that he hated women. However, he did not murder his mother, as others have done with theirs.

            Other than Bonnie Parker of Bonnie and Clyde fame, the numbers are far less for women than what is known for the above documented men murderers. That doesn’t give women the “right” to kill/murder any more than for men.

            There have been mass murderers through the ages. In some ways, it’s called war or political conflicts. There were the Mongolian Khans very early in the previous millennium, Vlad Tepes – better known as Dracula –, the Crusades did their murdering under the guise of religion, the Nazis and any other hate organization used whatever reason to kill/murder for their blood lust.

            If the murderers really wanted to be labeled with these other senseless jackals, I guess they got what they wanted.

            Murder is not glamorous or romantic! Why do these mass murderers have distorted views that the people they kill want to be taken out with them? Senseless.

The Oregon murders of this week are another reason to keep guns out of the reach of the disturbed and insane, people. How can this be implemented? I do not have an answer – wish I did. 

My heart goes out to the families of the victims of now and in the past. That has to be a pain that never really heals.

            It is senseless, so senseless for what these – and I use the term loosely – people do to others. Some might view me as unsympathetic to the disturbed murderers. Well, I have to plead guilty. Since these “people” are not stable and have access to objects to murder others, how does that give them the right to murder others when they are unhappy -- to leash out against people they don’t know or have not done horrible things to them!

Suicide is senseless, but to cause the deaths of other people with his or her reasons – which are no real reasons -- is unthinkable! 

Boston Reprint

The Days Boston Stood Still

 B.D. Adams

© 2013

This is a reprint of my feelings about the Bombing at the Boston Marathon finish in 2013.

 

May 15, 2015

Today, the Death Penalty was made known for the Boston Bomber, Dzhokhar Tsarnaev. His penalty was for four deaths -- three at the marathon, a policeman when they were chased -- and numerous maimed because of his actions. I never wish bad for people I do not know, however, in this case, I am glad for this decision. Mostly for the survivors who deserve closure for what they were forced to go through.

I salute the folks who made this decision.

 

I am a sports enthusiast! I love to watch football, some basketball, car races and tennis. Before I had my stroke, I played tennis and I had been a runner. Not a marathoner, more like to a miler.

My former husband was a marathoner. I would ride my bicycle with him while he would train.

In fact, he qualified for the Boston Marathon one year! We were so excited!

Any person who has participated in that marathon (or any marathon, for that matter) can understand what it means to just finish that kind of race!! Forget the idea about winning ... just to finish without throwing up at the finish in front of the cameras is no small feat!

On April 15, 2013, like many other folks, I watched the Boston Marathon from the beginning to the finish of the top runners. So happy, I was for the winners and the finishers I saw! Afterwards, my boyfriend and I opted to watch other television programs (a movie). Then, we decided we wanted an early supper of Chinese, so he went to pick up our meal. I continued to watch a TV program on cable. This was around four o’clock.

When he came back home, he left the food in his SUV as he hurried inside and frantically asked, “Have you seen the News?!”

I switched to CNN ... and then, saw the horrifying scenes of unthinkable mayhem!!

Why would someone set off bombs at a marathon finish? The Boston had always been an “ambassador event” ... so many nations were in this race. That was obvious by all the flags at the finish line!

Like most everyone, I stayed glued to the News stations. It was so unbelievable that two young men could turn a city like Boston into a zone of terror, made in fear!

When the “persons of interest” were made known, I was amazed that these young men ... brothers, Tamerlan (the older) and Dzhokhar Tsarnaev ... were not seemingly part of terror factions; like Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan or Ireland (of all places).

Their national home was Chechnya!! It’s a small country in the southwest section of Russia. This country has dealt with wars and discontent for centuries! Of late, however, they hadn’t seemed angry with the US. Unless you figure in the Islamic factor.

As more was made known of the brothers, the older one stated on a social media

venue that he “didn’t understand Americans,” he couldn’t “make friends” with them. My words to him would have been, “Then, move ... go some place else, go back to Chechnya.” Perhaps others had made that suggestion, as well, which did not please him.

He had a wife and a three year old child. Why do this to a child? As it is known, he did not survive his attempt to out-run-the-law.

The younger brother was evidently an aspiring medical student. This would please most any mother ... for her son to be a doctor!

He did survive, but with his brother’s death, he should have given up! This is not going to be like Osama bin Laden’s event. This boy is in the United States with the full determination of our judicial system and all the fame seekers with their own itineraries!

I’m sure the younger brother was a likable fellow. Everyone who was interviewed said this. However, whether the older brother instigated this change in his younger brother’s personality or not, the fact remains he made his choices! They both did.

Personally, I am so glad and relieved that both bombers were found and put away without the added mayhem of more huge explosions, more blood and death! The killing of the MIT policeman was so unnecessary, just so senseless, as everything they had done!! They went to the lengths to make fairly sophisticated bombs ... was that all they thought they would need to do? Didn’t they think beyond the bombing? Did they think they would not be found out! Their lack of reasoning escapes any rational thought!

Were they going to pull a “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid” shoot-out? Well, they failed at that. Were they more involved in terrorism than the FBI/CIA had informed?

My thoughts are with the injured people (dead and still healing) and their families. Also, my hopes are with the families of the bombers/killers. Hopefully, they will understand that Americans, born here or legally immigrated, will not tolerate killings, no matter how flowery their families and friends speak of the killers or how indignant they feel of how Dzhokhar was hunted! He is a killer!!

And now, let’s hope we are not inundated with copy-cat bombers at other sporting events!!

I am a Texan, an Ohioan, a New Yorker, a bit of a German, and a New Hampshire-ite (for 11 years)! And, as of April 15, 2013, I am a Bostonian!!!

 

Boston Strong --- Forever!!!

 

 

 

 

Kerouac

Jack Kerouac

     – a free spirit of the Beat Generation

 By

B.D. Adams ©2014

 

There was an article on the Yahoo! home page last week that said a letter was discovered, which was thought destroyed decades ago. According to ancient knowledge, this letter had inspired Jack Kerouac’s writing style. It was found in an attic, garage or someplace just as cryptic. With my affected brain (due to my stroke), I began to remember this long-term memory item about him and how he inspired me, as a young American girl of the mid to late 1960s.

 Jack Kerouac was born in 1922 in Lowell, MA, to French/Canadian parents. By American standards, Kerouac’s family was … standard. His mother was a devout Catholic and his father drank (especially after the death of his older son) and swore, but provided for his family. They were small farmers in Massachusetts, but that ended when they moved to Ozone Park, NY, with Jack when he went to college.

 He was a good student and entered Columbia University, where he played football until he fractured his tibia. He wrote articles for the student newspaper, Columbia Daily Spectator. Then, Kerouac tried to be a good American (WW2 was in its beginning) and entered the Navy. The military was not for him, too many rules and not enough play-time. He was deemed as a radical misfit and was honorably discharged on psychiatric grounds. However, being a good American, he did join the Merchant Marines. For personal reasons, he was forced to quit this endeavor, after several tours, because some of the more highly ranked seamen were into homosexual activity. That was not Jack’s idea of serving his country.

 Once he met other writers/seekers, his Beat Generation awakened him to experiment with drugs and sex. The search of what life really meant in the 1940s and 1950s and 1960s! This group was the forerunner of the Hippy Experience.

 When he really began to write, Kerouac wrote about his travels across the United States with his good friend, Neal Cassady, who was the author of the lost 18 page letter; The Joan Anderson Letter, 1955. Most writers, like Faulkner and Steinbeck, dealt with religion, politics and love, as did Jack. Thomas Wolfe’s writings influenced Jack. Wolfe’s trek cross-country probably inspired Jack’s jaunt in the “Magic Bus” with Neal and other travelers.

 Human nature was his genre, but he took his meanings to different levels of humanity, more mind-expanding. His early writings were deemed sellable, but his fertile mind needed to unleash his spontaneous style with his life experiences. He became the icon for the Beat Generation! Beatniks! You know, hanging in Greenwich Village or San Francisco coffee houses/bars, beret-wearing-poetry-loving groups who would applaud by finger snapping instead of loud hand-clapping.

Unfortunately, as with other renowned writers, alcohol and drugs were his stimuli, as well as his down fall. Edgar Allen Poe, so it was assumed, drank himself into an early grave (there were a few other diagnoses). Jack was known to drink to excess all of his adult life.

 Granted, Kerouac lived in many places, but when I learned that I would be living near one of Kerouac’s “watering holes” (a tavern in Grosse Pointe, MI), I felt a bit better about moving to Detroit. My husband, at the time, wanted to move from Alexandria, VA, (Poe was from Baltimore) back to his home state, Michigan. We moved from Poe to Kerouac. What a difference.

 I had read once that Jack was not that keen on the Detroit way. As it went, I had the same reaction to living in Detroit. I lived there, but he merely visited with his first wife; her home of Grosse Pointe, just east of Detroit on the shores of Lake St. Clair. That city was stylish, but was too influenced by the bigger city. Detroit was not conducive to the creative mind for men or women. In the late 1980s, when I resided there, the attitudes were still back in the 1950s (when Kerouac was there). We were not a fans of Detroit.

 There have been other people, as writers or as truth seekers, who have emulated Kerouac. However, he was unique, one of a kind. My former employer, D.R. Goff, was one of these “truth-seekers^x1,” as was I. To my thinking, D.R. was more like Hunter S. Thompson in many ways, other than like Kerouac.

Jack died in 1969 (when I was 19) when he was 47 in St. Petersburg, FL. His death was attributed to his drinking. He had married three wives and fathered only one child (of which he was aware); a daughter, Jan Kerouac, a writer in her own right. She died young like her father.

 I was a young, teenaged girl when I first heard of Jack Kerouac. In my young, inexperienced mind, I tried to understand, to believe his realities, his writings. As with other teenagers of the time, I was forbade by my parents to read Kerouac. No Kerouac!

 When I grew-up, though, I did the reading. I never pushed myself into a drug-hazed reality like Kerouac and the other Beats. I had my hippy experiences, but I was always cognizant of my life. I never lost my grip. Too bad for Jack and the others who slipped away.

 Since, I cannot hitch-hike anymore or take off spontaneously, to wherever, my writing has been of memories I have had and what my inventive mind conjures up Through reading and conver-sations with others, I continue to search for America. When I did experience the freedom of hitch-hiking, either by myself or with a companion, it was easier to breathe.

 Kerouac had many quotes, but this one has stayed with me:

                     Live, travel, adventure, bless and don’t be sorry.

 

^{x1 – D.R. Goff and I never hitch-hiked together, in any actual or biblical form.}