No Access

Route 30A stretches along about 30 miles of the Florida panhandle coastline.  Lots of people each year drive a long way to get to 30A or one of the other strips close to the water.  Staying at the beach, after all, is fun.  Most of the property bordering the beach, however, is privately owned, so it's unlikely that you'll just be able to park your car anywhere and walk down the water.  What you will see is this:  Gates and signs and fences, and I'm sure this is true for many beaches in the country.  You can be really close to the water, but you will not be allowed to just walk to it.  You will have to find, unless you own a bit of that property next to the water, or unless you are staying at a place next to the water, an access point in which the public is allowed to pass.  If you look, you will find government-guaranteed walkways every few miles, almost like secret entrances.  That is your access point, your walkway to the ocean.

Sunset on the Beach

I saw the sun setting, the reflection stretching across the water to the horizon.  This was odd only in the sense I don't see it very often and it was very striking.  I saw a pelican nose dive for a fish, then I watched him swallow the fish.  I looked at a seagull and it looked at me, waiting for something, food, I think.  I listened to Mozart on my iPod while I walked along the shore, and everything seems so much more grand when you listen to Mozart, even a sunset at the beach.  I saw a guy sitting on bongo drum of some sort, and he banged on his drum, I guess along with the beat from the music on his MP3 player.  A sand crab came out early and I poked around a little bit at him with a stick, though I didn't harm him.  I didn't take this photograph; I just wanted to add a visual.

Can I have some Jesus?

Again, Nathan, with an odd religious remark, or at least what we thought was a religious remark.  He walks into the kitchen while we were talking about Sunday's message and asks, "Can I have some Jesus?" That cracked us up.  But then we realized, he was asking for Cheez-Its, not Jesus, and that cracked us up some more.

Water on Four Sides

I Thought You Were God

I called to Nathan, our four-year-old, the other day from my office window; he was playing outside on the front steps.  He looked up and around and couldn't see me.  I called again and he found me in the office window.  He laughed and said, "I thought you were God."

One-Stop Shopping at Walmart

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To Be Fair, I Do Sometimes Feel Like This

There Are Times When I Feel Like This

Bullhook

The bullhook, by design, is intended to cause pain and puncture the skin. Despite its appearance, an elephant’s skin is as sensitive as humans’ skin. The sharp metal hook on the end of the bullhook bruises, punctures, and tears elephants’ skin easily and often. Former Ringling animal crew employees report that the circus keeps a bag of topsoil handy to cover up bloody bullhook wounds on elephants.  Source:  http://www.circuses.com/ringling.asp

Every Once In a While I Feel Like This

Cigarette Box Warning (Europe)

This is What I Feel Like Some of the Time

This is What I Feel Like A Lot of the Time

Missing Link? The Unchanging Truth from Science and the Media

May, 2009:  This is the first link to all humans ... truly a fossil that links world heritage. 

October, 2009:  ‘Missing link’ primate isn’t a link after all

This Water is Different

Evan doesn't like to waste anything.  Anything.  Tonight we stopped at the Varsity for a couple of hotdogs.  And water.  As we finished, Evan was reluctant about throwing his water away.  So he sat there and drank big gulps, then got up and drank more big gulps.  "Evan," I said.  "You don't have to drink it all.  It's just water."  That didn't work, so I had to get to the heart of the matter:  "Evan, if you drink all that water you might pee in your bed tonight."  "I'll pee before I go to bed," he said.  Finally, I coaxed him into ditching the cup, but after he did it, he started crying.  Then I tried to soothe him.  "It's okay," I said, "if you're thirsty when we get home, you can have more water.  We have more water at home.  We have lots of water."  "But this water is different," he said.  I tried to convince him that, no, the water is the same, and we have lots of it.  I can fill a bathtub with water if I want to, I told him.  "But this water is different," he said.  No, it's the same.  Just ask your Mom.

Ted Williams' frozen head used for batting practice at cryogenics lab

(from the nydailynews.com)


Workers at an Arizona cryonics facility mutilated the frozen head of baseball legend Ted Williams - even using it for a bizarre batting practice, a new tell-all book claims.

In "Frozen," Larry Johnson, a former exec at the Alcor Life Extension Foundation in Scottsdale, Ariz., graphically describes how "The Splendid Splinter" was beheaded, his head frozen and repeatedly abused.

The book, out Tuesday from Vanguard Press, tells how Williams' corpse became "Alcorian A-1949" at the facility, where bodies are kept suspended in liquid nitrogen in case future generations learn how to revive them.

Johnson writes that in July 2002, shortly after the Red Sox slugger died at age 83, technicians with no medical certification gleefully photographed and used crude equipment to decapitate the majors' last .400 hitter.

Williams' severed head was then frozen, and even used for batting practice by a technician trying to dislodge it from a tuna fish can.

The chief operating officer of Alcor for eight months before becoming a whistleblower in 2003, Johnson wrote his book while in hiding, fearful for his life.

Forsaken

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

       Why are you so far from saving me,

       so far from the words of my groaning?

O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer,

       by night, and am not silent.

Psalm 22:1-2

Iron Maiden

(from Wikipedia) An iron maiden (German Eiserne Jungfrau) is a torture device, consisting of an iron cabinet, with a hinged front, sufficiently tall to enclose a human being. It usually has a small closeable opening so that the torturer can interrogate the victim and torture or kill a person by piercing the body with sharp objects (such as knives, spikes or nails), while he or she is forced to remain standing.

Alienated & Alone

Ex-Falcon QB spent sad life in long, lonely end zone

My Fescue Crop

It's odd how much effort I put into growing fescue, as if I were a farmer and a full dinner table depended on my success.  Comparatively speaking, compared to neighbors and to those living in the more pristine neighborhoods, I don't really put that much effort into growing fescue, but even so, to me, it seems like a lot.  I aerate (rather I pay a man with a large tractor to aerate), I plant seed, I fertilize, I hope for rain.  I wait and watch and keep hoping for rain.