Last week, I was talking with Kimberly, my wife, and I remarked that they had given me the nickname Tiny while I was breaking batteries, at Pacific Hyde and Fur in Lewiston, Idaho. It was a scrap metal yard and no longer dealt in hides nor furs. But it was there that they first called me Tiny. Other guys were also given nick names, the little guy was called "little Bit", Boss was the boss. So why was I "Tiny" I was the tallest guy there. She didn't hesitate a second. She said, "Maybe they were measuring your patience." Do ya think? huh!
Am I impatient to think that Bushes proposal in his 10 20 program is too slow? You are darn right I am impatient!!! If we spent as much money every year as he spends in Bushes War every year for ten years on producing hydrogen from wind and solar power we would not have to import any more oil or natural gas. If we take responsibility for our own energy needs we would not be producing CO2 at such an alarming rate!!!
About Me
- Tiny
- Born during WWII, I am a quentisential precursor to the Baby Boomer's. During a time of trouble mother was never there. She was building tank parts at the Studebaker Factory. There was no day care either. Later, in mid childhood I was sent to the hospital twice by abusing father figures. In the fourth grade I was awakened at 2 in the morning, told I was no good and driven around in a car to a strange town, then told to get out of the car! Predictiably, I grew up to be an abuser. Of what you ask? Alcohol, drugs and women, I would have to admit. I went hippie only to find that love had turned to lust. Peace had become, what piece do you want? Of the world, of the wealth, or of sex. So I was both the victim and the victimizer. The hater and the hated. Once the loser, but now the winner! Even the abuser can change. Want to find out how?
1 comment:
Oh, nice dad.
Apparently I should have your old nickname, though. x]
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