blockhead's Blog

We often have been reading lately that the United States is not very nice in the world. Of course they do not mention our generosity around the world and gifts. They do not mention promoting freedom or even funding the United Nations. No sir, they say things like the United States is an evil empire and such ridiculous lies and I have some thing to say about that really.

?Hey wait a minute. This is the greatest nation in the world to live in. People are breaking in just to live here. We also give more to the world monetarily as well, sure because we can, but that does not negate the fact we do and big time.?

Still the negative World Media will say we act like a Queen Bee making all other nations bow to our demands? Interesting comment but also remember it is the queen bee also moves the hive to separate and swarm to start a completely new colony and is the leader of that new direction.

Hey this is a super duper wonderful place to live, a giving people who care, a powerful nation, yes that too and rich beyond the imagination, indeed. Ever stopped to think that the United States is that way for a reason?

And consumers, yes we over do ourselves and some have larger mid sections to prove that point of contention indeed. However all in all, I am very happy to be an American, where the water is clean and clear, food is plentiful and freedom abounds. It is such a wonderful country in every regard and we should never knock, those who live here know that. Those of us who have traveled as you too have know of its amenities.

We Americans have done a good job, we should be thankful and the world should be thankful for our gifts and before any one puts out a world media hit on the US to try to change that perception they should be thinking of the ramifications. What if America's heart and money flow stops due to name-calling and poisonous remarks in world media? That would not be a good thing, but it could easily happen and protectionism is so easy when a populations masses form into them or us mob mentality and have the freedom to vote their minds. We need to be thinking here.

The United States is the greatest nation in the history of the human species. And quite frankly if you want to change 'nation' with 'civilization' you could do that too and run back up to 10,000 years of written recorded history, still the statement remains. Now what we do with it from here on out is up to us and the next periods generation, however, if I were a betting man, I think I would want the US as a friend and a partner, because their population cares and the US has plentiful abundance of resources with the Republic's generosity and hands extended. That is all I am saying. Consider this in 2006.

Lance Winslow

When we fold our American flag we fold the stripes toward the stars, for whereas the stripes represent the 13 original colonies that founded our republic and they are now embodied in the 50 sovereign states represented by the stars so that the stars cover the stripes on the flag.

The 1st fold of our American Flag is a symbol of life.
The 2nd fold is a symbol of our belief in the eternal life.
The 3rd fold is made in honor and remembrances of the Veterans who have departed their prospective ranks who gave a portion of their life for the defense of our country to attain peace throughout the world, not to have been in vain and shall never be forgotten.
The 4th fold represents our weaker nature, for as American citizens trusting in God, for it is to Him we turn in times of peace as well as in times of war for his divine guidance.
The 5th fold is a tribute to our country, for in the words of the immortal Stephen Decatur, ?Our country, in dealing with other countries, may she always be right, but it is still our country, right or wrong?.
The 6th fold of our flag represents where our hearts lie ? andn it is with our hearts that we pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of American, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
The 7th fold is a tribute to our Armed Forces, for it is through these same armed forces that our country is protected and our flag protected against all her enemies, whether they be found within or without the boundaries of our republic.
The 8th fold is a tribute to the one who entered into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, that we might see the light of the day, and this fold is made to honor a Mother, for whom it flies on Mother?s Day.
The 9th fold is a tribute to womanhood, for it has been through their faith, love, loyality and devotion that the characters of men and who have made this country great have been molded.
The 10th fold is a tribute to fathers, for they too have given of their sons and daughters for the defense of our country since they were his first born.
The 11th fold of our Flag , for in the eyes of a Hebrew citizen, this represents the lower portion of the seal of King David and King Solomon, and glorifies in their eyes the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob.
The 12th and final fold, for in the eyes of a Christian Citizen, this represents an emblem of eternity and glorifies in their eyes God the Father, God the son and God the Holy Ghost.

When our American Flag is completely folded, the stars are uppermost, which reminds us of our national motto, ?In God We Trust.? When the American Flag is completely folded and tucked in, it takes on an appearance of a cocked hat, ever reminding us of the Sailors and Marines who served under Captain John Paul Jones, and they, followed by their comrades and shipmates in the Armed Forces of the United States, have preserved for us the rights, Privileges and Freedoms that we are enjoying today.

Denny Knutson, LPN,EMT, Maa
Emergeny Room Nurse
Bellin Health - Bond Health Center

Oliver, my boss, a handsome mustached man of about forty, was the owner of the Euphony International Summer Schools in Folkestone. He had developed a network of schools across England and he hopped from one to another trying to keep them all under control. In some schools, groups of fifty to a hundred students from abroad would attend a two to six week session to improve their English. These schools had new students coming in all summer. In my school, where I was appointed director, I worked with a group of one hundred Spanish students for six weeks. On the day that the Spanish students arrived, Oliver also showed up to give them an introduction to England.

The group of Spanish teenagers gathered in the recreation room looking like frightened immigrants. Oliver addressed them in perfect English.

?There is,? he said ?no smoking in the rooms.? He held an invisible cigarette to his lips and pretended to smoke. ?Do you understand?? he continued. ?There is no smoking in the rooms. You must also be in your rooms by ten o?clock. That means no television after ten o?clock.?

The students looked puzzled.

?I don?t think they understand you, Oliver,? I offered.

But he continued, only this time in a louder voice, almost shouting at them.

?When you have finished eating you must take your plates to the dishwasher. And, please, don?t hang any of your laundry in the windows. The laundry will be taken care of by Mrs. McIvor.?

Standing beside us was a stocky woman who was in charge of the school?s laundry and meals. This was also her regular job during the winter when the school we were borrowing for the summer was an all girls? school for wealthy English girls.

One of the Spanish leaders, a girl of nineteen who spoke a little English asked, ?We would like to know why the food is not clean??

?The food is clean. It is your plates you must clean after eating,? replied Oliver.

Oliver turned to me.

?I think they?ve got the idea, Jim. If you have any problems give me a call.?

And that was the last I saw of Oliver.

I turned to Mrs. McIvor, a displaced Scot, and said ?Come, let?s show them their rooms.?

?Okay,? called Mrs. McIvor to the students. ?Girls on the third floor, boys on the second.? She turned to me speaking in a whisper. ?That way we won?t have any of those passionate Spanish lads passing through the girl?s rooms accidentally.?

As the days passed, and dirty laundry began to collect in the hallways, Mrs. McIvor informed me that she refused to dry blue jeans in the schools dryers. I asked her why, and she explained that the jeans were too heavy and would wear out the dryer. She said she would wash them, but that the boys would have to dry them at the laundry in town. I nodded, and told her we would need some canvas bags to put the dirty laundry in that was collecting in the hallways.

?Bags,? she said. ?You want bags for the laundry??

?Yes,? I explained, ?the boys are throwing their laundry in the hallway and the place is starting to look terrible.?

?I?ll have to ask Mr. Watts,? she replied.

Mr. Watts was the headmaster of the school during the winter months.

?Ask him about what,? I asked.

?About getting some laundry bags.?

Three days later amidst heaps of dirty laundry in the hallways I asked Mrs. McIvor about the bags.

?You see,? I said, ?here are the stands the bags go in,? I said pointing to the metal racks used in the winter.

?Yes, I know, Mr. Muckle.?

?So you must have the bags in stock?? I queried.

?Oh, yes, indeed we do,? she replied matter-of-factly without a hint of hostility.

?Well, then couldn?t you let us have a couple??

?There?s a note on Mr. Watts? desk about the subject now.?

Two or three days later Mrs. McIvor pulled me aside during lunch.

?Yes, well then Mr. Muckle, I spoke with Mr. Watts about the bags, and he wants to talk with you directly.?

The following day after dinner I met with Mr. Watts in the presence of Mrs. McIvor. Mrs. McIvor explained to Mr. Watts that I, Mr. Muckle, was in charge of the summer school program for the Spanish, and that the boys were tossing their clothes in the hallway. Mr. Watts, a tall man with a red bulbous nose and glassy eyes that floated in their sockets listened intently, swaying a little as he did so.

?Well,? he said after she laid out the situation, ?it appears as if you need some bags to put the laundry in.?

?That?s what Mr. Muckle would like, sir, is some bags.?

?I think that can be arranged, Mr. Muckle. Mrs. McIvor would you be so kind as to supply Mr. Muckle with some bags on a weekly basis as long as the students are with us??

?Yes, of course, Mr. Watts.?

And so it went. The students had lessons in the morning and excursions to castles, exhibits, the zoo, London, and the sea in the afternoons. They smoked in their rooms, hung their wet laundry in the windows, and covertly visited the opposite sex, despite repeated warnings that if the behavior continued they would be sent back to Spain. They hated the bland English food which consisted of meat, peas and potatoes. They loved the puddings, but would go up town to the local Wimpies, a fast food hamburger place, to eat. They complained to me repeatedly about the terrible English food, and I passed on this complaint to Mrs. McIvor who continued to have her cooks prepare the same meals.

I was forced to dismiss one female British teacher because she had her boyfriend spend the night with her in her room on the third floor. I looked the other way for a while, but the fellow started using the girls? restrooms. The Spanish girls were horrified to find this pale Englishman in their bathroom each morning. Later, the students in her classes brought me a petition that they had all signed saying she was not a good teacher, and that she belittled and yelled at them. There was considerable resentment from this teacher when I recommended to Oliver that she be transferred or let go, for she couldn?t understand how an American could teach English to begin with. And then to be fired by this alien was just too much for her. She complained bitterly to Oliver who transferred her to Canterbury where she was put in charge of chaperoning dances.

Once, very late at night, I was returning to the school, when a motorcycle gang started pouring out of a pub. There must have been twenty leather-jacketed, brutish looking fellows, drunk and yelling only a hundred feet in front of me. I was tempted to cross the street, but I had learned from an old merchant seaman when I was sixteen that this might be the worst thing to do when confronted by a gang on the street. ?Better to cut right through the middle of them. Don?t let ?em know you?re afraid.? he had advised. ?They?ll chase you like a dog that smells your fear.? Heeding this advice, and knowing that the bikers had noticed me coming alone down the street, I put on a tough face and cut a straight line through them. As I was dodging through the crowd, a large bearded fellow burst through the pub door and crashed into me. My adrenalin surged, and I prepared myself for fight or flight.

?Sorry,? he said in a tenor voice in the most proper English. And though some of the fellows were throwing up in the gutter, they all made a point of giving me plenty of room to walk through them.

It was on an excursion with the students to Brighton that I saw a man openly strike a woman on a public street. Two young couples were walking along when suddenly one of the couples began arguing. It is difficult for me to understand the accents of the English people from the north, so I don?t know what the dispute was about, but all of a sudden the woman hit the man across the face. The man didn?t take it like a gentleman. He slugged her hard, square in the face and would have knocked her down if the other woman hadn?t caught her and pulled her away. The fight abruptly stopped. The women went off together, and the men took off in the opposite direction.

A few weeks later, near the school, I jumped a hedge and cut across a neatly mowed lawn to get to the walkway near the beach. Normally, I would have followed the path around the hedge and made my way to the leas, but on this occasion I was in a hurry to get to the students picnicking on the beach, and I jumped the hedge where others had worn it down a bit. After I reached the pathway on the leas a well dressed elderly couple stopped me.

?Wonderful day for a walk,? the man said to me.

?Yes, it is,? I replied, hurrying past them.

?Do you come here often?? he continued.

Something in the tone of his voice arrested my attention.

?I?m staying for the summer,? I replied slowing my pace and studying them carefully. The older woman looked indignant. The man was hesitant, yet persistent.

?Was that you we saw jump the hedge back there?? he asked pointing with his folded umbrella to the spot that had been worn away by hedge jumpers.

I admitted it was.

?You?re American, aren?t you??

?Yes.?

?Well, perhaps you don?t know. We are members of the Society to Protect Hedges. We replant hedges, and we encourage people not to destroy them. We couldn?t help but notice you jumping over that one back there.?

I apologized for jumping the hedge and explained that it wasn?t something I normally did.

?Yes,? he replied. ?I believe you. You seem like a decent sort of chap.?

He explained to me his love of hedges, and we parted on good terms with my promising never to jump a hedge again.

And I haven?t.

The summer session rapidly neared an end, and I was forced to start thinking of a new place to find employment for the winter. After six weeks of hearing the lyrical Spanish language and being in love from afar with one of the alluring female Spanish leaders, I had begun to think of Spain as my next destination. Many of the English teachers said that there were jobs in Spain, and that the best way to get them was to be there. So it was with new hope in my heart that I traveled to Spain.