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(the feisty one, just seconds before scratching, or "smoting," the eyes of a sinner)
Apparently, the gentleman who the following letter is attributed to, denies having written it. This, of course, only proves that he is a silly goose.
Who would *not* want to take credit for this brilliant letter to that feisty little right-wing know-it-all, Dr. Laura?
By the way, kudos to myself for describing the [ahem] "good" doctor without unleashing the "b" bomb.
Have fun! . . .
On her radio show, Dr Laura Schlesinger said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22, and cannot be condoned under any circumstance.
The following response is an open letter to Dr. Laura, written by a US man, and posted on the Internet.
Dear Dr. Laura:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination. End of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them:
1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination, Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there "degrees" of abomination?
7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I'm confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.
Your adoring fan.
James M. Kauffman, Ed.D. Professor Emeritus,
Dept. Of Curriculum, Instruction, and Special Education
University of Virginia
[EDITOR'S NOTE: regarding the photo above . . . if you zoom in closely you can see how the good doctor's fingernails, or "smotation devices," are beginning to extend ever so slightly. Also, please notice the hair. It has nothing to do with the imminent attack. I just wanted you to check it out].
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This is my cat Marley. He is at least 17 years old. That is 84 in human years.
Marley is showing his age, but hanging in there.
Marley vomits at least twice a day and cries at night. He is also losing his hearing and eating his own fur. He will be going to the doctor very soon. I believe this will be his first doctor's visit since he was declawed as a young cat.
Marley is one tough and ornery son of a bitch. He is also the best pet I have ever had.
God bless Marley.
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In reference to the above photo, your first directive is to avert your gaze from my complete lack of buttocks. My parents had my ass cheeks surgically removed at birth for reasons that I still do not completely understand. Perhaps it was so that Catholic priests would find me less desirable.
But anyway - in lieu of my flat screen ass - please notice instead the ever present "lid" sitting a top the hood of my 1970 350 cubic inch V-8 powder blue Pontiac Tempest ("Jean Luc Pontiac" to be exact).
That lid was my hat.
It was cool.
I wore it on my head.
I felt that it added considerably to my existing savior faire.
ADDENDUM: Before you begin to sense a certain level of self-absorption in these black & white photos, please be advised that I was enrolled in a photography class at The Dayton Art Institute at the time (1982), and our final assignment was "self- portraits."
Thank you.
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The gentleman pictured above was a homeless acquaintance of mine back in the early 80s. He spoke very broken English, but more than made up for any communication barrier with the universal language of a kind face and a gentle spirit.
I asked him if I could take his photo by first pointing to my camera and then towards him. He responded by simultaneously shaking his head and motioning that his pockets were empty. He thought that I was going to take his picture and then try to sell him a copy. Once we got that little bit of confusion sorted out, he nodded and just stared right at the camera.The photo was taken in 1982 at the 3rd street bus stop - next to the Old Courthouse - across the street from the Arcade.
"where'd you go? where'd you go?
. i closed my eyes and you was gone"
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For all of your woodcrafting needs, visit WoodcraftPlans.Com!
You can't miss us!
We're located at 300 Warren Street . . .
in the brick building!
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I've got a beer for anyone who can make it through all seven minutes and seven seconds of the following.
And a beer and a shot if you can do it without laughing.
Classic movie theme songs . . . played on vuvuzela!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTFKjJaV15I
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For the past 28 years I have been looking for the above photograph.
I originally owned two master prints. Many years ago I gave the one copy to my late sister Peggy as a gift. I assume that it is still in her home.
While moving the last of my belongings from ye olde Smith homestead this past week, I stumbled upon all of the prints and contact prints from the photography class that I took at the Dayton Art Institute in 1982. In the bottom of that box was the other master copy of the long lost photograph.
I think that the photo captures the unique bond that I always sensed between Dad and Peggy. Everybody laughed at my Dad's jokes, but Peggy *really* laughed at them. :-)
It is also a very special photograph to me because my father was not a "hands-on" type of person - figuratively or literally. That's not a complaint. He simply was not that kind of a person. Seeing Dad's hands resting so kindly and naturally on Peggy's shoulders confirms what I knew and felt all along: my Dad may not have been the best at expressing affection, but the love that he had for his family was very much present nonetheless.
I love that about the photo, and of course, I love the very natural and relaxed smiles.
I saw those smiling faces a thousand times over through the years, and I am very happy that I will now be able see them a thousand times more, on the wall across from me.
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Guided By Voices say: "Fly that flag with pride!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqmcINr4JKA
The Official Ironmen Rally Song
(R. Pollard)
bitter fish in crude oil sea
you don't have to bother me
you just have to join in on this song
calling people on your knees
don't take this so seriously
You just have to hum it all day long
to dine alone
to build a private zone
or trigger a synapse
and free us from our traps
you won't see me turn my back
whip my head against my stack
spitting teeth and breaking open skin
official ironmen you are free
champions, officially
but you won't catch me on an open chin
to dine alone
to build a private zone
or trigger a synapse
and free us from our traps
knock-out punches for the freaks
happy little babies with red cheeks
you will rock them gently out of sync
confirmations through the wire
spitting gas into the fire
am i also worthy of a drink?
to dine alone
to build a private zone
or trigger a synapse
and free us from our traps
Melodic and lyrical genius . . . nothing more, nothing less.
"official ironmen you are free
..champions, officially"
The lines still make me teary-eyed, some 14 years later. But of course I am a big pussy.
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Here is an achingly beautiful string version of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah" by the group, Time For Three.
I thought that I would miss the vocals. I was wrong.
Thanks to the classical music station Dayton Public Radio (88.1) for bringing this version to my attention. DPR is my station of choice when driving around town, and it has been so for about two years now:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_SZp_L3q4c
The first couple to dance to this without getting teary-eyed gets a dollar, courtesy of your friends here at Kevin's Myth.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . my father's violin
This song and post are dedicated to Penny.
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.Now I know what you're thinking after reading the title of this blog entry.
You're thinking: "Smitty is a cock? No duh. Tell us something that we *don't* know."
Well, that is what I am about to do.
Back in the early spring, I purchased 26 baby chicks for Miss Penny Lee Cooper.
("We knew that already")
Hold your horses, dammit and hear me out!
The chicks were mailed overnight (no kidding) to Penny in Bainbridge, Ohio. Since it is impossible to tell a male chick from a female chick, the Mount Healthy Hatchery simply promises that you will receive at least three roosters or cocks. Penny had decided on the Cincinnati-based hatchery and it sounded good to me. I mean, if you are looking to purchase the by-product of chicken carnal knowledge (i.e. "coitus chickensus"), what better name for a hatchery than "Mount Healthy."
To my great delight, Penny had agreed in advance - after some coaxing from an individual who has asked to remain anonymous - to name the studliest of the guaranteed three roosters "Smitty" in my honor.
The baby chicks very quickly outgrew their small cage inside one of Penny's sheds, and so she, her son, and his girlfriend, built a wonderful pen. This pen is attached to a larger shed so the chickens can have a covered area if necessary. The new and much improved lodging for the chickens was proudly named "Coop's Coop," in honor of the Cooper family name.
The chicks continued to grow at an amazing pace. Several of them started to display slightly more aggressive behavior. These chickens also appeared to be somewhat larger, and began to develop "combs." Penny decided that the one that was the biggest of this small subset of chickens/maybe roosters was probably going to be "Smitty."
On my next trip to Penny's, I met the chosen chicken. I was very proud to see that he had a beautiful feathery coat of gold and grey.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ."Smitty?" . . .
Unfortunately, not long after Smitty received his christening and became my studly namesake, Penny's brother decided that Smitty might not be a "fella" after all. I immediately suggested to Penny that we tentatively change Smitty's name to "RuPaul" and just in case (I suppose "Reverse Rupaul" would have been more accurate). And so that is what we did.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . .. . . or "Reverse RuPaul?"
Last weekend, as per usual, Penny was working in her various gardens, when she heard what she described as a "godawful croaking" sound from Coop's Coop. When she walked over to the pen to investigate she saw "Smitty/Reverse Rupaul" attempting to . . . you guessed it - crow!
The mystery had been solved.
Smitty was a cock!
Penny also reported that after each painfully weak attempt at "crowing," Smitty would quickly prance around the pen as if he was king of the world (i.e. "the shit").
Apparently, Smitty is continuing to hone his crowing skills. He has also begun to receive informal voice lessons from a distant tutor. An adult rooster down the road from Penny's house will occasionally let out a full-bodied and proud crow, and Smitty will respond with his charming, and slowly improving, "croak of death."
I say: "Good boy, Smitty! You show 'em who's boss! And like all of us - you will find your true voice in due time"
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ."SMITTY!!!"
NEXT! . . . on "Coop's Coop" . . . an unwelcome visitor crashes the party and the chicken count dwindles to twenty-five . . . or is it twenty-four?.
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"Penny Land is in my ears and in my eyes
.Here 'neath blue suburban skies I sit
.And meanwhile back . . . Penny Land"
.(Lennon/McCartney/Smith)
Here are some photos from yesterday's visit to Penny Land, located on the very eastern edge of Highland County, Ohio - walking distance from the exact point where Highland, Ross, and Pike County meet.[Ed. note: Please click on photo to increase image size, and then again if desired]
The crew at the Dairy Queen in downtown Bainbridge (front row, l to r): Penny and her three grandsons, Deegan ("Deegs"), Kade, and Keegan; (back row): Penny's daughter and Deegan's mom, Mandy; not pictured: "Paw Paw" Kevin)
Penny's newest garden area in the front/side yard. I have been told that this is a "work in progress." Next year there will be more vegetables introduced to the area, in addition to grapes for the wooden arbor. At that point, the area will receive it's formal name of "Kevin's Garden." The stone seat (middle, left) is already called "Kevin's Seat." The search for a garden statue of "Saint Kevin of Ireland" is currently in progress. The entire project leaves me completely flattered, stunned, and speechless - even though I'm sure that Penny is just teasing about the Saint Kevin of Ireland statue. I think.
This is the kick ass clubhouse and swing set built by Penny's Mennonite neighbor, Junior.
Grandma Penny doubling up with Deegs while Kade and Keegan annoy the hell out of each other.
Deegs going solo . . . will he hold on? or will it be the much dreaded "face plant?"
. . . . . . . . . . . Deegs holds on! No "face plant" for this guy!
Unfortunately, Mandy did *not* hold on. No - wait. That's right. Mandy is resting.
Pictured left to right: Trouble #1 and Trouble #2. The photo was taken about five minutes before the three of us engaged in a game of "sideways swinging hockey body checks." Today's important lesson: if you're going to play "sideways swinging hockey body checks" you do not want to be sitting in the middle swing (right Kade?). Oh yeah, and never play the game with an old guy who weighs 260 pounds. :-)The day concluded with the obvious celebration: sitting around the TV and watching "How the Grinch Stole Christmas."
Well, some of us sat around and watched.
Penny, Mandy, and I started to doze off about five minutes into the movie. Hey - and we were the three oldest folks present . . . hmmm . . . oh well - I'm sure that's just a coincidence.
A great big "Thank You" to Penny, Mandy, Deegan, Keegan, and Kade for the fun time! :-)
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.I visited my Penny in beautiful southern Ohio today.
On the drive down, about 10 miles north of Hillsboro, a billboard for HIGHTECHREDNECK'S caught my eye.
I thought that you might enjoy it as much as I did.
It looks like you can get just about anything at HIGHTECHREDNECK'S.
However, a closer look at the illustration leads me to believe that their "computer repair" work may not be one of their more noteworthy services.
[coming soon to this very blog . . . more photos from today's visit!].
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Happy 26th Birthday, Andy!
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I scored a new Reach tooth brush w/extra stiff bristles for 29 cents today.
I'm pretty happy.
I'm thinking that this may be just what I need to start turning things around.
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(my father on the 3rd tee at Homestead Golf Course in West Milton, Ohio - please note the absolutely picture perfect mid-swing position, and of course - the ever present cigarette)Do you see that short, thin lefty pictured above? You did *not* want to challenge him to a game of golf.
When I was in my teens I caddied for my father quite often. Many times I saw his fellow GM employees towering over him on the first tee, only to find themselves scratching their heads by the 5th hole after my Dad out drove them by 40 yards once again.
Then by the 13th hole I would see these same folks - out for my Dad's blood because he was always the man to beat - pacing around as if punch-drunk, as they slowly realized that my Dad's short game (chipping and putting) was actually his bread and butter.
Then after the round, in the clubhouse, I would see these very same co-workers for the last time, sulking as they pulled out their wallets and peeled off dollar bills and placed them in my Dad's hand. In retrospect, I suppose that the proudly beaming grin on my goofy teen-aged face did not help with their sulking issues.
I still remember driving home, happily rehashing the round, while my Dad quietly drove - a very slight but contented smile on his face - occasionally nodding and looking over at me.
For the above memories, and many more, I say "Happy Father's Day!" to my Dad . . . John C. Smith.
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See you all in the back seat of my car this Thursday!
Don't forget to bring a change of skivvies!
[EDITOR'S NOTE: see June 10th blog entry "The Flamingo Show Club" for the full story on "creamed corn wrestling"].
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Have fun, world.
You deserve it!
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p.s. USA! USA! USA!.
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Hey - we ain't got no jobs, and our neighborhoods are up to their eyeballs in arson and foreclosures, but we *do* have half-nekkid women jousting about in vats of lukewarm vegetables!
And for that, my fellow Daytonians, our lives are all the richer.
Dayton . . . City of Gems . . .
I love you so . . .
more than you will ever know!
"the fat lady clears her throat .to the strains of nero's fiddle"
(k. smith, taken from a work in progress, the tentatively titled epic poem, ."a pock of lips . . . NOW!")
SPECIAL NOTE TO GUIDED BY VOICES FANS: The Flamingo Show Club is located just one block north of the Dixie drive-in theater, featured in the excellent GBV documentary "Watch Me Jumpstart," and also pictured briefly in the equally excellent video for the song "The Official Ironmen Rally Song":
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqmcINr4JKA
Both the club and the drive-in are within walking, or crawling, distance of Titus avenue, the location of the legendary "Monument Club," and the former home of Robert "Vampire on Titus" Pollard.
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(the feisty one, just seconds before scratching, or "smoting," the eyes of a sinner)
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