Douglas Munro – Pride of the United States Coast Guard

Cle Elum, Washingtom is a sleepy little town along the eastern slopes of the Cascade Mountains. Just off Interstate 90, the town with a population of 2,100 is one of those places that most people pass by — on the way to somewhere else.

It was a town my in-laws and I would visit from time to time while trail bike riding, back in the good old days. Those weekend and holiday excursions were some of the best days of my life. We were a brotherhood of young men exploring the wide expanses of Kittitas county including its streams and lakes, its mountainous logging roads, and numerous other sites from Hyak to Ellensberg, to Easton, to Thorp, Roslyn and beyond.

During a break one day, on one such adventure in Cle Elum, with my brother in law Ed, he said to me, “I want to show you something.” He drove through town and in a few minutes we were in a small parking lot amid a wooded area. We were parked among the tall shade trees of a cemetery, Laurel Hill Memorial Park.

Ed looked outside in the distance and then glancing back at me nodded and said, “Go check it out.” As I looked in the same direction among the headstones I could vaguely make out a flag pole and a large gray structure among thick black chains and stanchions. Being the curious type, I didn’t hesitate.

While Ed stayed behind, I walked the short twenty yards or so, and what I discovered was totally, totally unexpected. Strange, I thought, for this little out-of-the-way town.

Secure in Love

Love is a subject of frequent discussion here on my blog. I’ve often heard people talk about how they were secure in knowing the love their parents had for them. I certainly hope my children felt secure in the love their mother and I had for them. But, I’ve never felt that kind of security… it has escaped me throughout my life. In all the relationships I’ve had, with maybe one exception with a good friend, I have never felt secure in love.

In the same regard, I’ve never known unconditional love. Unconditional love and support can take a person a long ways in life, places they never dreamed possible. If only the other person knew.

What a great blessing that would have been. How it might have changed my life. For those of you who enjoy that kind of love — secure and unconditional — shame on you should you ever take it for granted.

℘

Dreams of an Anne Hathaway Look-Alike

Hello again my friends in the blogosphere. Yes, it’s been a while, I intend to do better. In- fact I’ve committed to publishing at least one post each and every month, on the 17th of ever. Maybe more stories, commentary, thoughts and reflections sculptured into posts will come your way on dates in-between… bonus! Thanks as always for following along.

I recently woke up in the midst of a dream. One I thought I’d share with you, but not sure why. This is one of several dreams I’ve written about in my journal. I am fascinated about the subject of dreams. They’re often mysterious adventures, surreal experiences. They’re a captivating enigma of the human mind, a complex subject under scientific study. Why do we have them? What do they mean? Why is it we find joy in some while experiencing pain in others? Why do we remember some, but very quickly forget others? (At least that’s my experience).

Dreams are normal but they can’t be taken for granted. We can lose the ability to dream through strokes, brain damage and trauma. And there are those among us that never dream. Never, in their entire lives! A sleep doctor and psychiatrist, Pierre Geoffroy, says that not dreaming is extremely rare. Most people dream but don’t remember them. Several studies have shown that if you wake up in the middle of the night, you can (like me occasionally) write down a certain number of dreams (what else do we dream writers have to do)? But non-dreamers are incapable of doing this. If they dream, they simply are incapable of remembering them.

So, here goes …

A Great Salvation for America

The best and most beautiful things in this world cannot be seen or even heard, but must be felt with the heart.

~~ Helen Keller ~~

During the terrible winter of 1777-78, while the Continental army lay encamped at Valley Forge, Isaac Potts was passing through the woods near General Washington’s headquarters. Making his way amid the groves and snow covered, wooded paths he suddenly heard the sound of a nearby voice. Startled, Potts cautiously drew closer while the words became clearer. Eventually, he could hear the voice speaking in great earnest.

Soon he could see the man. There, in a dark natural bower of ancient oaks, he saw the commander-in-chief of the American army. It was General George Washington on his knees, in the snow, in prayer.

The best solution?

A young Italian boy grew up on his family’s farm in a small village 25 miles south of Pisa. There they sold farm machinery and made wine.

In 1971, at just 12 years old the boy, born with congenital glaucoma and already suffering limited vision, lost his sight completely following an accident during a soccer game. Hit in the eye while playing goalkeeper he suffered a brain hemorrhage. Doctors resorted to leeches in a last-ditch effort to save his sight, but were unsuccessful and the boy remained blind.

Early in his youth he grew to have a consuming passion for music. His mother said music was the only thing that brought him comfort. He started piano lessons at age 6. Later he learned the flute, saxophone, trumpet, trombone, guitar, and drums. The first record he owned contained the songs of an international opera star, who inspired him to pursue the career of a tenor. By age 7, he was able to recognize the famous voices of the time and tried to emulate the great singers. Music and singing consumed his childhood.

His first concert was performed in a small village not far from where he was born. He won his first singing competition at age 11 with “O sole mio.” He finished secondary school in 1980, and then studied law. To earn money, he performed evenings in piano bars, where he met his first wife Enrica in 1987. He completed law school and spent a year practicing law. Today he is an international superstar. Famous for his amazing God-given talent, his beautiful voice touches millions of lives. He is the father of three children, with homes in Tuscany, Italy and North Miami Beach, Florida. He has sold more than 80-million albums worldwide.

Can We All Get Along?

I have a friend here in Las Vegas. An intelligent, interesting guy, who I love to converse with outside the subject of politics. I have several friends, just like him.

He’s a rabid left winger, suffering from, in my point of view, a serious case of Trump Derangement Syndrome. Our views on politics couldn’t be more opposite, and his frequent Facebook posts are acutely insulting to myself and other like-minded individuals. I’m sure we all have similar experiences, and I make no claim to be innocent of passing along a few occasional insults myself. We are all human.

Yet, I still try to separate politics from my personal relationships. Like others, with differing points of view, I still consider him a friend, and a good man in many ways. I value our friendship.

Me the Patriot and the Realities of War

Patriotism is as much a virtue as justice, and is as necessary for the support of societies as natural affection is for the support of families.

Benjamin Rush, Letter to His Fellow Contrymen: On Patriotism,
October 20, 1773

As a writer I tend to spread my thoughts around. From notes to myself, emails to others, to Facebook posts and my own personal history (to be shared with my family) and to this blog to be shared with the world (at least anyone with the time and interest to read it).

What follows is a compilation of all those things I think about when I think of patriotism and my love for country and the awful necessity of war.

A little of it may have already been shared here, but things of such weighty measure are often worth repeating.

Roosevelt and the New Deal

Teddy Roosevelt, our 26th president once said:

It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena.

It’s one of my favorite quotes and I’ve referred to it in this blog before.

Teddy’s distant cousin and our 32nd president Franklin Roosevelt was many things to many people. Some, who lived in Roosevelt’s time, and especially those who thought themselves benefactors of his policies, loved and adored him. For many, he was the only president they ever knew. He’d been elected to an unprecedented four terms and served for 12 years before his death. Today is the anniversary of his birth.

The Life Line

I recently came across something on the Internet and thought it an interesting idea. It can be found in various forms, not many different from the others though. I’m sorry to say it comes with no mention of its original author. It is often seen without a title. I have given it one and have rewritten it.

I’ve changed the order of things. I’ve changed the wording, I’ve added a lot and taken away a little. It is my version and from what I’ve seen, I think it’s the best.

I share it here.

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Every second someone leaves this world behind. They take nothing with them. They’ve arrived at the front of the line. An ending as well as a beginning.

Age, status, health, wealth or heritage has nothing to do with our place within it. Realize it or not, we are all standing in this line together.

We think little about it. We ignore the line’s existence. But here we are and here we stand, with no possessions, equal in every way.

Distractions, Choices and Perfectionism

As is far too often the case, I’ve been a bit remiss in writing in my blog. This will be only my 8th post for the entire year. Despite all my best intentions, what can I say? It happens! Just know, like any good friend, I haven’t forgotten you.

There are always the, what in my life are, “normal” distractions. Here are just a few, listed in no particular order: