Words to live by
Here are some words that everyone should instantly recognize and then file under 'A load of crap'.
FREE-- "That's right ladies and gentlemen, this scooter chair is absolutely free. There's no cost to you even if Medicare doesn't authorize you to have one." (Translation-are we supposed to believe that the supplier, manufacturer, laborer and dealer did it all for nothing?)
SERVICE-- "Our service department will take care of that for you", or, just think of the "Internal Revenue Service." (Translation- if you really think there's such a thing, you indeed will be serviced, right up the you know what!)
AFFORDABLE-- This one's a real beauty. "We've got to get affordable____ for people who can't get it." Anytime you hear this line of bull, think of your wallet getting a little lighter so someone else can enjoy their new, affordable____
DESERVE--Probably the best of all words. "We'll get you the money you deserve." (Translation-the 40% fee will be sent to our POB in the Cayman Islands).
If there's any words, or terms, that you'd like to add, email me at niromp@localnet.com . This is a FREE SERVICE AFFORDABLE to all who DESERVE it!
Saturday, June 19, 2010
The Pete Morin Editorial Review--Issue #51
Recession Redux
Got a very interesting piece of mail a few days ago. It was from my heating oil supplier. The prepaid contract they were offering listed fuel oil at $2.60/gallon, but was only good until February 15, 2011. What are they trying to tell me, other than the obvious that they won't have oil available at that price beyond February 15. Here's what I think they're saying and everyone, regardless whether you heat with oil or not, should be very concerned.
Early next year the economy could start to get extremely shaky; by this I mean not just a new recession, but something much worse. We could be looking at inflation like we haven't seen in thirty years. Our wise and wonderful government--and I don't mean just the fools in the current administration--has set the stage for a currency debasement that will cause the cost of everything to skyrocket. This is what's at the heart of the fuel oil people telling me that they probably can't supply oil at a reasonable price beyond the middle of winter. In fact, some investment guru's expect the price of a barrel of oil to go well beyond $100. Think this isn't possible? Watch the stock market closely this fall because it's usually leads the economy by six months.
Sooner or later the predatory beast that is our Federal Government will devour everything; not just our liberty and freedom, but all that we own. The socialist fools and their liberal sycophants will, if given a chance, make us all dependent to them for our very existence. If, on the other hand, you like BIG GOVERNMENT, you'll have a fine old time wearing several layers of clothing this winter. Why, you'll show those big, bad oil companies you're not going to be intimidated. If you're really lucky maybe the Feds will nationalize oil.
Happy days are here again!
Got a very interesting piece of mail a few days ago. It was from my heating oil supplier. The prepaid contract they were offering listed fuel oil at $2.60/gallon, but was only good until February 15, 2011. What are they trying to tell me, other than the obvious that they won't have oil available at that price beyond February 15. Here's what I think they're saying and everyone, regardless whether you heat with oil or not, should be very concerned.
Early next year the economy could start to get extremely shaky; by this I mean not just a new recession, but something much worse. We could be looking at inflation like we haven't seen in thirty years. Our wise and wonderful government--and I don't mean just the fools in the current administration--has set the stage for a currency debasement that will cause the cost of everything to skyrocket. This is what's at the heart of the fuel oil people telling me that they probably can't supply oil at a reasonable price beyond the middle of winter. In fact, some investment guru's expect the price of a barrel of oil to go well beyond $100. Think this isn't possible? Watch the stock market closely this fall because it's usually leads the economy by six months.
Sooner or later the predatory beast that is our Federal Government will devour everything; not just our liberty and freedom, but all that we own. The socialist fools and their liberal sycophants will, if given a chance, make us all dependent to them for our very existence. If, on the other hand, you like BIG GOVERNMENT, you'll have a fine old time wearing several layers of clothing this winter. Why, you'll show those big, bad oil companies you're not going to be intimidated. If you're really lucky maybe the Feds will nationalize oil.
Happy days are here again!
Monday, June 7, 2010
The Pete Morin Editorial Review--Issue #49
A life changing experience
Many things happen in a person's lifetime that add little or nothing to the mundane activities of daily life, but every so often, or perhaps rarely, an event comes along that has a profound effect on how one examines his/her place on this place called 'earth'.
As with most people, I've had my share of mundane experiences that can readily come to mind, but are not to be considered anything more than ordinary.
As an example, when I was five years old, I remember cowering in my bed under all the blankets as an electrical storm raged outside my house. When you're a child you make up all kinds of scary circumstances that whirl around in a juvenile brain. As the storm was raging, I decided that I would count down from three and when I hit zero a tremendous bang would envelope the entire house. Three-two-one----ZERO-----BANG!!!! I jumped from my bed and headed like a shot to my parents room and quickly burrowed my way deep into the safety of their presence. The bang was a bolt of lightning that hit a giant tree and entered the house in the living room. My father rushed downstairs and had to extinguish the smoldering curtains and completely destroyed radio in the corner of the room. To this day my wife can't understand why I retreat to the basement when an electrical storm passes overhead.
Also when I was five my tonsils were removed. I can still remember being strapped to a gurney so tight that I was unable to move a single muscle. As the mask containing ether (the standard method of anesthesia for that time) was placed over my mouth the nurse asked me to start counting down from ten. Needless to say, I don't remember getting past eight, but afterwards when my parents came to visit I thought it was great that ice cream was available in copious amounts whenever I wanted it. The only negative part--besides the operation--was having to sleep in a large room with, what must have been, a dozen screaming little kids. Strange how you can remember in such vivid detail an occurrence that happened almost sixty years ago.
Deaths to loved ones can be very difficult, but it certainly isn't unexpected. The passing of a mother, father, brother or sister can be devastating yet we figure out how to overcome such trials. At my mother's wake my older brother Art gave out ersatz engagement rings to any unsuspecting women close enough to be engaged with his charm and beguile. Perhaps this was his way of getting beyond his sorrow. Art had already exhibited his grief at the private family showing of my mom's casket. I can still see him calling her name softly as if had wished he could have seen her one last time.
Personally, what I consider to be my authentic life changing experience came when I was in my third day of training at the Great Lakes Naval Training Center in May, 1968. As I sat between bunks stenciling my name on my naval issue cloths, I started to feel a loneliness and an urge to cry. Suddenly, from deep within me, a voice told me to shape up and grow up. It was time for me to leave youth behind; I was a man now and should act like one. The voice gave me the strength to face the next four years and all the years after; for I was now, most definitely, a man. Nothing as compelling has changed my life since that moment of reflection on the floor in a far away barracks.
We all should have life changing experiences, so let me hear yours. Right a comment on what you think you're most compelling moment was. It may help you recognize your own growth to adulthood.
Many things happen in a person's lifetime that add little or nothing to the mundane activities of daily life, but every so often, or perhaps rarely, an event comes along that has a profound effect on how one examines his/her place on this place called 'earth'.
As with most people, I've had my share of mundane experiences that can readily come to mind, but are not to be considered anything more than ordinary.
As an example, when I was five years old, I remember cowering in my bed under all the blankets as an electrical storm raged outside my house. When you're a child you make up all kinds of scary circumstances that whirl around in a juvenile brain. As the storm was raging, I decided that I would count down from three and when I hit zero a tremendous bang would envelope the entire house. Three-two-one----ZERO-----BANG!!!! I jumped from my bed and headed like a shot to my parents room and quickly burrowed my way deep into the safety of their presence. The bang was a bolt of lightning that hit a giant tree and entered the house in the living room. My father rushed downstairs and had to extinguish the smoldering curtains and completely destroyed radio in the corner of the room. To this day my wife can't understand why I retreat to the basement when an electrical storm passes overhead.
Also when I was five my tonsils were removed. I can still remember being strapped to a gurney so tight that I was unable to move a single muscle. As the mask containing ether (the standard method of anesthesia for that time) was placed over my mouth the nurse asked me to start counting down from ten. Needless to say, I don't remember getting past eight, but afterwards when my parents came to visit I thought it was great that ice cream was available in copious amounts whenever I wanted it. The only negative part--besides the operation--was having to sleep in a large room with, what must have been, a dozen screaming little kids. Strange how you can remember in such vivid detail an occurrence that happened almost sixty years ago.
Deaths to loved ones can be very difficult, but it certainly isn't unexpected. The passing of a mother, father, brother or sister can be devastating yet we figure out how to overcome such trials. At my mother's wake my older brother Art gave out ersatz engagement rings to any unsuspecting women close enough to be engaged with his charm and beguile. Perhaps this was his way of getting beyond his sorrow. Art had already exhibited his grief at the private family showing of my mom's casket. I can still see him calling her name softly as if had wished he could have seen her one last time.
Personally, what I consider to be my authentic life changing experience came when I was in my third day of training at the Great Lakes Naval Training Center in May, 1968. As I sat between bunks stenciling my name on my naval issue cloths, I started to feel a loneliness and an urge to cry. Suddenly, from deep within me, a voice told me to shape up and grow up. It was time for me to leave youth behind; I was a man now and should act like one. The voice gave me the strength to face the next four years and all the years after; for I was now, most definitely, a man. Nothing as compelling has changed my life since that moment of reflection on the floor in a far away barracks.
We all should have life changing experiences, so let me hear yours. Right a comment on what you think you're most compelling moment was. It may help you recognize your own growth to adulthood.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
The Pete Morin Editorial Review--Issue #48
Hypocrisy in Beantown
There was an article in the Boston Herald Business section today featuring a speech given by US Rep. Ed Markey and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi that has to highlighted for its sheer hypocrisy.
Both House Reps were in Watertown, MA at an event to promote clean energy technology, but both energy geniuses had to get their digs in against BP. Let me quote just one line from Rep. Markey and you tell me if this doesn't smack of pure BS. "It's the responsibility of the government, however, to make sure that BP's equipment, technology and expertise are used in a way that protects the safety of the ocean, of the shores and of the taxpayers of the United States."
Now let me be clear. BP is responsible for whatever went wrong with this particular operation, but isn't it the US Government, with its regulatory agencies, supposed to make sure that drilling operations are conducted in a safe manner? Doesn't the US Government issue leases to drill offshore with the proviso the companies follow all the guidelines and regulations concerning such drilling? Or is it possible that the left hand of government doesn't know what the right hand is doing since the maze of regulations make it impossible to fathom what's acceptable and what isn't?
The big Lebowski, however, is Rep. Markey's concern for the US taxpayer. What chutzpah! What arrogance! What downright hubris coming from a group of lawmakers that have taxed and spent this society into a mountain of debt. Unfunded liabilities for Social Security and Medicare alone are approaching $100 TRILLION dollars. That's TRILLION!!! Our national debt is now $13 TRILLION dollars which equals approximately 85% of our GDP(Gross Domestic Product). Long term prospects for debt levels are even greater with the passage of ObamaCare, and don't even think about what Cap & Tax will do to the economy.
These liberal politicians are utterly shameless, pathetic, spineless minions who have to be removed and replaced with leaders that have a backbone in order to right the ship of state. This must commence in November, or the future of this great country will be one of fast decline where our descendants will see their standard of living reduced significantly from previous generations.
Wake up America--and this includes you big government liberals. It's been said many times and needs to be repeated here; Any government powerful enough to give you everything you want, is powerful enough to take everything you own!
There was an article in the Boston Herald Business section today featuring a speech given by US Rep. Ed Markey and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi that has to highlighted for its sheer hypocrisy.
Both House Reps were in Watertown, MA at an event to promote clean energy technology, but both energy geniuses had to get their digs in against BP. Let me quote just one line from Rep. Markey and you tell me if this doesn't smack of pure BS. "It's the responsibility of the government, however, to make sure that BP's equipment, technology and expertise are used in a way that protects the safety of the ocean, of the shores and of the taxpayers of the United States."
Now let me be clear. BP is responsible for whatever went wrong with this particular operation, but isn't it the US Government, with its regulatory agencies, supposed to make sure that drilling operations are conducted in a safe manner? Doesn't the US Government issue leases to drill offshore with the proviso the companies follow all the guidelines and regulations concerning such drilling? Or is it possible that the left hand of government doesn't know what the right hand is doing since the maze of regulations make it impossible to fathom what's acceptable and what isn't?
The big Lebowski, however, is Rep. Markey's concern for the US taxpayer. What chutzpah! What arrogance! What downright hubris coming from a group of lawmakers that have taxed and spent this society into a mountain of debt. Unfunded liabilities for Social Security and Medicare alone are approaching $100 TRILLION dollars. That's TRILLION!!! Our national debt is now $13 TRILLION dollars which equals approximately 85% of our GDP(Gross Domestic Product). Long term prospects for debt levels are even greater with the passage of ObamaCare, and don't even think about what Cap & Tax will do to the economy.
These liberal politicians are utterly shameless, pathetic, spineless minions who have to be removed and replaced with leaders that have a backbone in order to right the ship of state. This must commence in November, or the future of this great country will be one of fast decline where our descendants will see their standard of living reduced significantly from previous generations.
Wake up America--and this includes you big government liberals. It's been said many times and needs to be repeated here; Any government powerful enough to give you everything you want, is powerful enough to take everything you own!
Saturday, May 29, 2010
The Pete Morin Editorial Review--Issue #47
Prodigy? or Probably--NOT
Music has always been a part of my life: the last thirty years, or so, enjoying listening rather than playing, but a part nevertheless.
I started out on the piano, but realized that I couldn't reach all the keys so, subsequently, I changed to an accordion. Besides mastering 'The Sidewalks of New York" and a few Polkas the accordion didn't offer the kind of inspiration that I was looking for from a musical instrument. Luckily for me the Beatles arrived on the scene in late 1963 and was immediately hooked by their unusual sound and, what seemed to most of us in the baby boom generation, their vibrant enthusiasm for good rock & roll.
So it was that I took up the guitar and practiced until my fingers were worn thin. This was not too difficult since the first guitar I used must have cost all of $5 and would naturally cause your fingers to be rubbed raw from its unplayable fretboard. In time, however, and with a new guitar, I found a calling for my teen years and pursued teaching the instrument to young rock & rollers who also envisioned themselves being the next John Lennon or Paul McCartney.
A young Lennon or McCartney I was not and having exhausted all possibility to expand my horizons I settled into a sort of 'musical insouciance' that equated well with being an average musician. The daily grind, however, would come to a screeching halt when in December, 1967 I received a greeting from President Lyndon Baines Johnson to join some of my fellow citizens in a little affair known as 'Vietnam' by way of the US Army. Since I was reluctant to take part in this particular quagmire, I joined the US Navy: ships had not yet been deployed to Khe Sanh or Laos.
So it was that I left home and hearth in May, 1968 for Great lakes Naval Training center with the hope of convincing the immediate authorities of Naval Warfare that I would be best utilized as a musician rather than as a submariner floating beneath the ice, or water, of some faraway land. The officials of higher authority did not agree, but I did manage to attain the position of 7th back up guitar at the Training Center. Needless to say, I never saw a piece of sheet music, or a guitar, in my three months at Great Lakes. An aviation electronics technician would be my calling and I performed well, though not brilliantly, for the remainder of my time in Naval hell.
Fast forward to 1975 and you enter upon the legend of Blackwood, or Tucson, or Broken Spoke: all names from transient, perfidious, wandering minstrels that an underachieving country rock band to possibly conjure. We stuck with Broken Spoke and languished in the anonymity of the Drummer's Club to perform regularly with uninspiring ordinariness. Rock bands are not only about music, however, and that is where this history lesson reaches its most important point. Friendships are often made from such unlikely unions as bands or clubs and it was no different with my band mates. The four people joined with me above are special, in that two have passed on to the big country rock band in the sky. The two on either end of the picture, Bob Miller to the left and Pete Loveless to the right, both passed away at too young an age. Their pictures and my memories are all that remain of a special bond.
One of the original members of the group, Dallas Sutherland our bass player, who is pictured below, has also gone to a greater reward than that which can be bestowed upon an aging rocker.
I remember these men for the good gentlemen they were and will leave out foibles that attach to any life striving to place a mark upon our short stay here on earth. As often as I do not regret leaving the musical profession, I wish I could take just a few sets, once again, to enjoy the good reverie that made us musical brothers.
Playing music has not been part of my life for the last thirty years, but remembering our good companionship will never fade from the memory of a man entering late middle age. Rock On Guys!
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The Pete Morin Editorial Review--Issue #46
The Story of Sweet
It's not often that one can become closely associated with nature, but on a summer day in 2004 that's exactly what Sue and I did when we took our usual morning walk to the local convenience store.
The store manager had a rather unusual request; she asked us if we would be willing to rescue a baby starling that had been abandoned by its mother. Two siblings had already died from cold and lack of food the previous evening and the only remaining chick didn't look like it had much life left. As I looked at Sue, trying to let her see my reservations about accepting the bird, she instinctively told the proprietor "sure, we'll take it". Thus started our adventure with the little starling chick that would come to be called 'Sweet'.
As we found our way home,pondering on what to feed the chick, I remembered an old Burt Lancaster movie called "Birdman of Alcatraz". Lancaster portrayed Robert Stroud, a self taught ornithologist (and two time murderer) who was imprisoned in Alcatraz, the infamous Federal prison in San Francisco Bay. A small Sparrow had dropped into his cell one day and he devised a method to feed the bird using cockroaches and bugs that shared his living space. Since we had no available cockroaches and bugs were not a staple diet for a starling (a quick search on the net confirming this), we decided to try a concoction of suet, oatmeal and water. Starlings are unique in that they eat just about anything, perhaps attributing to their legend as being a scavenger bird with an over-population to boot. But what did we care about over-population. This was life in its very newest form and we would not give nature a chance to destroy its own creation without a fight.
Sweet completely took over our daily lives. During the day she (we would assume by the markings that it was a 'she') had to be fed about every half hour and if you were late, she let you know! I would mix the concoction and feed it to her with a wooden match stick. Sweet seemed to love it and would gobble it down as fast as I could provide. As she finished her feeding she would slide back into the rear of her nest to seek the relative safety of its confines until her next feeding. She was also very fastidious in that she would not foul her nest, but would make her way to the edge to do her business.
We kept Sweet in a large cat cage inside our gazebo in the backyard so to be safe from any possible predators and she thrived in this environment. Soon it became apparent that she was more than just a hungry mouth and pot belly and started to grow feathers which gave her the appearance of a real, honest-to-goodness, bird. She even started to venture outside her nest to explore the confines of the cage. Sweet became such a central part of our lives that on the July 4th weekend we took her with us on a trip with Sue's sister and husband to South Hadley and Amherst. We ate lunch at Windows on the Common in South Hadley and had to excuse ourselves every half hour to feed her. We kept the cage in the back of our car and the arrangement worked
out perfectly.
As Sweet got bigger we had to consider how to acclimate her to the wild. It's one thing to raise a bird, or any other animal, for domestication, but yet another thing to raise one with the intention of release into the wild. We had always made it our motive in raising Sweet to do so with eventual release in mind. I would now occasionally bring her outside the safety of the gazebo and teach the fine, non-human, art of flight. Nothing could be more amusing than watching a human attempt to teach a young bird this amazing feat, but teach her I did. I would bring her to a lilac bush and place her on a low hanging branch and then gently nudge her to take flight. The first few attempts were met with total failure as she fluttered helplessly to the ground, but nature has a strong instinct placed within its winged creatures and soon Sweet was successful in gaining a somewhat small measure of lift.
Sweet progressed rapidly in her new found art and it was now time to see if she could navigate beyond the gazebo. I wasn't too concerned about her flying off to parts unknown since she still required feeding every hour or so. Quickly she learned how to maneuver from branch to branch on various trees in the yard and I also taught her how to peck at the ground for insects. Imagine, if you will, a man prone on all fours nibbling at the grass in an attempt to demonstrate to a bird the benefits of ground feeding! And it worked--a credit as she was to her hardy species, she caught on with gusto. Once, when our neighbor was having his garage rebuilt, a worker on the job site proudly proclaimed to us that Sweet had just eaten an ant! Sweet wasn't just our bird, but the entire neighborhood was aware of her presence.
July passed, as summer does, to August and Sweet was now a full grown bird. She would now meet us at our bedroom window every morning at 5 am to let us know that breakfast should be served as soon as possible. I would grudgingly, but willingly, oblige and then she would be on her way flying from tree to tree in the anticipation of enjoying another beautiful summer day. As I saw her fly about the yard I wondered if we had done the right thing in trying to save this stout hearted little creature. That old saying 'it isn't nice to mess with mother nature' is a concern that can't be denied, but Sue and I both felt we had done the right thing.
Soon Sweet no longer came to our window, but would meet us on the railing on our back deck. She was hesitant to accept our offerings of food and friendship and one had the notion that nature and the natural order of things would reclaim its design. It was on an August morning that she jumped across the railing on the deck and let us know that we had done all we could; she was ready for flight and freedom. We knew the day would come and looked forward to it, but yet there was a sadness in our souls in not knowing what lay ahead for her. Would she be able to avoid danger? Would she think that all humans were her friends? Only she could answer and yet there is no answer. We do the best we can in helping to preserve and nurture life and hope for the best.
We never saw Sweet again, but her story fills these lines and our hearts with a fond remembrance. Fly on little bird. Freedom comes to those that love it.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Pete Morin Editorial Review--Issue #45
Examining time
It's been some time since I wrote last my last article and ruminating about what's most important in life gave impetus to provide the following thoughts.
Perhaps it was Aristotle, or some other brilliant philosopher, who said that everything in life is political. Well, I certainly hope not. We inhabit this earth for but a mere speck of geologic time and must come to understand the value of this speck of time before it evaporates and is long gone. Have we used our time wisely, or have we squandered it for useless purposes? Socrates lamented that an unexamined life isn't worth living. Examination can be a prescription that is past due.
It's been some time since I wrote last my last article and ruminating about what's most important in life gave impetus to provide the following thoughts.
Perhaps it was Aristotle, or some other brilliant philosopher, who said that everything in life is political. Well, I certainly hope not. We inhabit this earth for but a mere speck of geologic time and must come to understand the value of this speck of time before it evaporates and is long gone. Have we used our time wisely, or have we squandered it for useless purposes? Socrates lamented that an unexamined life isn't worth living. Examination can be a prescription that is past due.
We sometimes get caught up in the minutiae of everyday life, i.e. what movie to watch, what shirt should I wear, etc., but these things are nothing more than the detritus of that life Socrates expounded on as 'unexamined.' Aside from the five hierarchical needs that Abraham Maslow articulated there has to be more to define our character; what constitutes a sense of morality with regard to others , our environment and to all of life in general. This is certainly a heady topic, but I find myself drawn to history, law and astronomy as a means to discover our common humanity. Other sciences can also offer explanations to our earliest roots. These would include archeology, biology and anthropology to name but a few. These pursuits can lead to a satisfying life, one that is more than just livable, but truly worthwhile.
There is a form of expression that can't be overlooked and should be a staple to a well-lived life; that of an understanding and appreciation of artistry. Notice I say 'artistry' rather than art, for there are many forms of art. My early chosen form was music, but any form will lead to creativity and expression that exemplifies a discovery of one's soul; a discovery of our present and past conditions. Consider the sculpture, the painter, the novelist and the emotional gauntlet they must pass through to convey their thoughts in their selected medium. There is nothing greater I can think of than a knowledge of creating words to paper or a brush to canvass. These meager thoughts hardly do justice to the importance of the written word.
One last thought. Several years ago, about a year before my father passed away, I remember sitting with him and he exclaiming to me that he couldn't believe how quickly time passes. His exact words were, "I can't believe it's gone by this quick." I asked him what he meant by 'it's gone' and his reply struck me like a punch to the head. "My life" he said. My father lived a long life, by any standard, but it seemed odd that, to him, it had gone so quickly. Today, older and wiser, I know exactly what he meant. I don't believe he led that 'examined' life that one should aspire to and he regretted not having done so. There were obstacles to that desire, but he felt he had not done all he could to lead a satisfying life.
It is incumbent upon all who have this small slice of geologic time to lead a life worthy of being called 'examined.' Cherish and enjoy it.
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