Choo-Choo McCracken

My great-uncle, Dale McCracken was an engineer for the C B & Q Railroad. The train engine he piloted is on display in downtown Ottumwa, Iowa.

If you close your eyes and really strain your brain, you can consider it a monument to my family!

Random thoughts

Richard and I were watching PBS the other night. It was about the movies of Warner Brothers Studios. It wasn’t a great show, but it kept my interest until way past my bedtime.

There was a quote from a movie that was something to the line of, “yadda, yadda, yadda (expletive deleted) fag.” I have to assume that the deleted phrase was the “F” word, or as I have heard the younger generation refer to it as the “F bomb”. “Fag” was obviously a reference to a gay man.

I’ve only heard one explanation of why gay men are called fags, or faggots, but it is not a universally accepted reason. A somewhat old-fashioned term, ‘faggot’ is used to define a bundle of sticks used to start a fire. Something like kindling. Apparently during the Spanish Inquisition, there was this theory that burning a witch at the stake was only effective if a male homosexual was used as fuel for the fire. Hence gay men became known as faggots. Ain’t history fun!

In truth, is doesn’t matter the origin of “fag”. There is no question but what it is on the line of the “N” word. (Sorry, I’m a gay man, I can type “faggot”, I can’t type the “N” word. I’m not black.)

So, liberal, left wing PBS doesn’t find “fag” offensive. I do. Would they have deleted the “N” word? I don’t’ know. But I’m guessing they might have had some serious conversations.

I’ve been asked why I am thinking about emigrating to Nederland. In 1811, all sodomy laws were repealed in Nederland (Napoleonic law). Admittedly, they were reinstated and repealed a few times until 1845 whenthe repeals became final. (The United States finally repealed all sodomy laws in 2002) In 1971 gay men and lesbian were given full rights in Nederland (yes, even to equal rights in marriage. Note: the Dutch government doesn’t give “marriage” to anyone, that is left to the churches. Nederlander have civil unions for legal reasons, marriage is a religious thing.) Still waiting for that in the US.

Oddly enough, Nederland requires that you speak Dutch before they will allow you to immigrate. Richard took up the the language today.

Twee grote wodka met ijs, alstublief!

Where are those sons of summer now?

Yesterday was the autumnal equinox. Today I scraped ice of the windshield of my pick-up. Sunday’s Oregonian had an article on preparing your garden for winter.

Time out.

My garden isn’t 100% ready to plant, and they want me to prepare it for winter? Am I the only one who sees the absurdity of this situation?

This could be tomorrow.

Juanita McCracken Cornelison

I’ve spent many hours trying to come up with a sensitive tribute to my mother that would give everyone an insight into the essence that was Juanita McCracken Cornelison. So far I have been miserably unsuccessful.

All I have been able to create is an over-sized document that is a delightful tribute to random hyperbole, ennui-infested thought, poor grammar, cliché metaphors and just-plain-old-shoddy writing.

Bad writing! Bad writing!

I’d send myself to bed without dessert, but I know me. I’d just get up in the middle of the night, while my conscience was sound asleep, and sneak a piece of cake.

But a picture is worth a thousand words.

Happy 94th Birthday, Mom

I miss you!

Juanita McCracken Cornelison #2

The quintessential toddler picture.

Juanita McCracken Cornelison #3

I love this series of Mom. I don't know for sure when they were taken, but I picture her in high school at one of those photo machines at the local drug store.

Juanita McCracken Cornelison #4

One of my favorites pictures of Mom. I think it really catches her spirit.