Scarlet O'Hara

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My Symbol Of Wisdom

Scarlet O'Hara-Hamilton-Kennedy-Butler, -- quite a name, quite a woman!

I just finished reading the epic story, "Gone With The Wind",  based around the time of the Civil War. The book, and its more than 1000 pages, brought to life people and their human traits. It also depicted a time in history to which most folks can not relate or even imagine.

The focus in the book is on Miss Scarlet. A prissy, flirting, and exceptionally enticing young maiden to whom the young men are drawn like flies to honey.

From this young maiden begins to flow a spirit and a determination, coupled with deception and underhandedness, which equals only the strongest willed human character.

Miss Scarlet's resolve and perseverance reveals a mindset, one that I as a man can hardly fathom. I have been around women, beginning with my mother, all my life. Although my mother was, and had to be, a strong minded woman. She or anyone else in my life could not be compared to Scarlet.


I like to read classic literature. Literature which uses the english language in a picturesque and descriptive way. Although the newer writings flow much more rapidly, like the staccoto rhythm of rap music, they often fail to reach the soul of human emotions and value.

By trying to understand why I prefer the classic writings, I came to a sentimental conclusion. I deeply believe that the love I have for this country makes me want to grow ever closer to its values and freedom by ever learning and comprehending more of its language.

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Big Bird = .oo1%

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Big bird, the lovable character of the government funded radio and TV corporation, politely has asked to be removed from the political fray.

Good for Big Bird.

What started it all was the statement the presidential challenger made during the debate. Mr. Romney simply stated that he would remove the government subsidy to the above mentioned corporation. His premise, the American government should not be a sponsor, or have control over the free flow of news and information. History has proven that the first step to establish a dictatorship is to take over the airwaves. There is a long list in recent history that proves this process was accomplished by Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Saddam Hussein . . . and as recently as Hugo Chavez.

The whiners on the left, as well as the clueless media, chuckle because the percentage of the subsidy is only .001% of the total government's budget. The point still is, the government should not have its fingers in the free enterprise system.

Of course the left don't get it. They think that government can do the job better than private enterprise.
Just like they think they rescued Government Motors by loading them up with a $29,000,000,000.00 debt. Just like they think that Amtrak, as well as the Post Office can run forever on an ever increasing annual shortfall. Just like the government's new health takeover will never run in the black.

The sad thing is, nothing run by the government has to be profitable; efficiency is not a requirement.

Only competition improves efficiency which translates to lower costs to the consumer.
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We Built It From Scratch

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Only in America.
I'm overwhelmed how our business has grown. Our sons have hung in there during these tough years of an economic slowdown. They were wise not having extended themselves to a point were payments could not be made. We had to cut some labor force and reduce hours to stay solvent and strong. 

Gradually though, things are starting to look up. Still, it is wise not to jump into investing in new equipment at this time. The healthcare situation is very unsettling. The never ending new regulations and pending tax increases will keep the lid on major expansions.

We have begun to hire workers with specific skills. Yes, skills! We do not care how many college degrees one has, it is the skill in a trade that is marketable right now.

Tens-of-thousands of jobs are waiting to be filled with skilled people. When will it sink in that vocational education and apprenticeship programs is what industry needs? 

Below, I will show some photos of our plant I took recently. You tell me if good looks and knowledge in astrology are a necessity to run a plant full of machines and equipment.

Who is going to learn to run these multi-million-dollar printing presses?

Who is going to cut, fold, stitch, bind and mail these hundred of thousands sheets of printed paper?
  

Who is going to set-up, maintain and repair the equipment?

Who is going to learn and master the communication between computers and machines?

Thousands of skilled tasks are under the roof this massive industrial building called Bison Printing.

When will Moms and Dads realize that over 70% of all the young folks in this country do not graduate with a (marketable) college degree. 

Look the kid in the eye. Maybe he or she would like to learn a skill and save you from the college loans hanging on your back for the next ten years.

GOD BLESS AMERICA

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Economics Or Brainwashing

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I venture to say there are millions of people who do not know what economics is. - Maybe some science about the eco system, maybe even a theory that talks back to you. . .

It is obvious that the progressive thought in academia over the past thirty years has purposely chosen to keep the public uninformed or outright dumb on the subject of economics.

Some may say we teach budgeting in middle school . . . great, give me a break!

Nowhere in the twelve years of public schooling is economics, as a subject, taught in a substantive manner. Why? Because, capitalism, or a free society, when unleashed is a powerful self-driving force. This force steers a person to independence, at which our current climate scoffs.

You may say I'm far out on the matter, but I say a lack of spirited drive toward freedom and self enrichment generates a populace who is more easily led and more dependent on a social network for help, or even total support.

What are the world's economic systems? Communism, Socialism, and Capitalism. Ah, but the word capitalism has been demeaned to refer to excesses, greed, and the taking advantage of the middle class.

Even 40 years ago in my college days, when I took several economic courses, capitalism was relegated to be a byproduct in back of socialism and communism. I remember questioning the over emphasis on the worlds failing systems, when I, an immigrant, wanted to hear and learn about the new world and how it came to be the driving force of freedom and personal achievement . . . the envy of the world.

I have seen totalitarianism. I have lived under socialistic rules. I have witnessed the masses fleeing communism. So why are we not proud of capitalism? Have you also been brainwashed by a left-leaning education system and liberal media?

I hate it when reporters stand to interview the so-called average person about an economic or social matter and then proudly report on the evening news the different opinions. Note! They never say they had to interview thirty folks to get one opposing view. But during the news-hour they let us assume the country is divided down the middle by simply presenting both views.

One can see all around what the dumbing-down of the masses has done to the American Spirit. It makes me want to cry to see how the mindset of "I have it coming to me" seems to grow at such an alarming rate.
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MY BEST FRIEND

In 1946, when I was six years old, I got my first, very own Lederhose. A short pair of pants of the pig skin variety, naturally gray colored, with the usual trap door in front and secured by two buttons at the belt line on top. That square flap opened like a drawbridge of a castle so a man could do his stand-up procedure. The pig leather was somewhat stiff at first. However, after the constant every-day wear, the Lederhose gradually conformed to my body. In my case, Mother made sure I would not soon outgrow this onetime expenditure. The hose (pants) were so big they started at the knees and nearly went to under the armpits. The Lederhose, like a constant friend, became my everyday companion and part of me. They hung on my skinny body by a set of buttoned leather suspenders. To keep them from slipping off the shoulders a horizontal strip of leather between them held the straps. 

Woolen underwear was bearable only in the winter when the much sought warmth overruled the itch of wearing them. Summer time brought freedom of such encumbrances, so we wore nothing under the pigskin pants. The buttoned-up trap door, always a challenge, overwhelmed me when time had to be taken to use the bathroom. The dropping of the flap in front was not really the big problem. It was the spigot, yet too small, that just would not reach to clear the leather, no matter how much I pulled to stretch it. So, inevitably most of the pee bounced off the inside and down the pant-leg. This actually was not a problem, because wet leather molded itself more easily to the body and its movements for a more comfortable fit. 

The pants were not considered broken-in until black with dirt and grime around the pocket and the back side. Anyone with a “new” pair was considered an outsider and sort of green–a bit snickered at. Therefore, as quickly as I could, I wiped every dirty thing that needed wiping on the pants. With no pockets in the back, the slick part of the breeches made a great toboggan when sliding down a steep hill. No one ever wore a hole in the Lederhose. The pants just became more “broke-in.” 

The pockets, one on each side in the front, were ideal places for a little boy’s treasures. All of us carried a pocketknife, and usually some marbles for any sudden challenge. Never all the marbles I had, just the ones I could afford to lose.

At the end of the day I stepped out of my breeches at the side of the bed. There they stood erect all night, sort of like a get-a-way car parked at the curb, until action resumed the next day. All I did in the morning is swing my legs over them, jump out of bed, and pull them up.

Get all 130 stories and anecdotes at: www.fxbiii.com

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Only The Lord Knows

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During our trip to New Zealand earlier this year, we saw and witnessed many wonders of the world.

One of the more intriguing displays of nature was on a beach in the South Island. On the atlantic side, near earthquake prone Christchurch, NZ, were scattered these strange and eery boulders.

These boulders were not only round on top, but round all over. Like giant five foot marbles.

Someone suggested they were formed like pearls in an oyster. Give me a break! Were are these giant oysters?

You can tell they appear to be glued together, then rolled until round.

Several lay there ready to break apart, and some were broken.

Not only did they lay in the surf, but were also thrown up against the dunes.

This multi-ton monster looked like it was just flicked with someones finger after He got tired of playing with it.

I think I'll ask Al Gore about that one. . . .


They called the place:

Claude Monet, The Inspiration

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I've been dabbling with pencil, pen and ink, charcoal, pastels, oils, and acrylics for as long as I can remember.

Even as far back as the mid 1940's I sat and sketched the world around me.
I didn't fully appreciate impressionistic art until I took several art courses at Rutgers back in the late 60's. Over the past thirty years however, I've gotten stale at the craft. My years were taken up with building our business, raising three boys, and constructing and remodeling at every spare hour in between.

Now that 12 of our 13 grandchildren are old enough, they again have begun to draw from deep within me the old desire to create, to explore colors. To dabble, blend, entice, and explode color from the canvas. My grandchildren can make a canvas explode in no time.

All of the paintings you'll see here were brought to life in just under two hours. Enough time to get a good feel for the technique, and be able to show some impressive results.

This vibrant display created by a 14 yr. old young lady

This by a 12 yr. old, totally her design and layout.

I helped this 10 yr. old lay this out his idea and he did the coloring.

One of my old oils inspired this 10 yr. old boy.

This exuberant display of smiles is the sole creation of a 13yr. old young lady.

This 7 yr. old loves her dogs.

I said, "pick any subject between a landscape and a cat eye," she, 12 years old, picked an eye of a horse. (You figure!)

This 15 yr. old young lady loves to dream. Little Red Riding Hood goes visiting.

We have the best time. In time maybe one of our grandchildren will find peace and gratification by dabbling with a bunch of colors on a canvas.