All programmers are playwrights and all computers are lousy actors
I watched the space shuttle take off tonight. I can see it from my front yard about 45 seconds after take-off. It helps that Florida is not particularly wide.
The last few weeks have just plumb worn me out. I have been sick, the wife has been hospitalized, we've tested & been sworn in as a US citizen (I say we, as it was interacive, for sure), and she has wrecked her car. In the middle of all this, I have had to travel once and go into work most of the rest of the time. 3 weeks has pretty much felt like 6 months. Hopefully most of that is behind me now.
I loved Alaska. It was like the world's largest small town. Plus Anchorage was like the capital wall hung critters. And critters as hats. And..... well, basically the capital of anything that can be made with a shot dead critter. And no, it's not commentary or anything. I am not judgemental of hunting. But it is an accurate observation.
I went into the BX/PX on Elmendorf while I was there. I bought, and this is true, an Alaska sweatshirt, a RISK computer gaame (so as to hone my world domination skills), a TSA approved computer bag that can be scanned without removing the computer (a big convienence for me), and a weedless, floating frog. The frog is, of course, a fishing lure. And I am absolutely convinced that fishing lures are mainly designed to catch fishermen. And this one was that good. I took one look at it and could see the lunker exploding off of a submerged stump to hit this baby.
It was the only BX/PX I had ever been in that sold guns and crossbows, and the like. Again, I grew up in the rural south where guns could be bought anywhere and ammo bought everywhere. I used to stop at the Texaco station to pick up birdshot, so I am not disapproving. But I have never seen a base that would sell firearms. It was interesting.
I am fast approaching my trip to Erbil, Iraq. I hope the per diem is high. I mean, I should come home with a little extra jingle because I don't see me out in town partying in Erbil. I understand it is up north, I think in the Kurdish area. Near Turkey, I am told. I don't know. Have not researched it. In fact, wait a sec.... OK, I'm back. Here's an article from March 2007 that right fairly describes the place now: http://www.michaeltotten.com/archives/001407.html. Plus now that I've read this, perhaps I can see me headed out a night or two while there.
I had a lot of stories I was gonna tell, but the last few weeks just beat that right out of me. So I will go to my fallback position of poems and pictures. These 3 poems are not particularly good, except that I wrote them before I was even 21. So in that respect I find them pretty doggone insightful about the world. Not to mention, they are mostly pretty funny. So hopefully, get a kick out of this old stuff. Or you can skip straight to the pictures that come after.
No Name Man
In North Carolina in a clapboard shack
Where the wind would blow and life blew back
Life began for the son of a no name man
Well life was tough and life was hard
Couldn't get no milk without a ration card
But a 10 week baby boy couldn't understand
I'd say, "What's the scoop, mama?" in my baby head
She'd think I was tired and put me to bed
I learned to talk from the wind whistling through the walls
Daddy worked hard just to meet the bills
Sixteen hours at the paper mill
That bone tired man wore thin and dirty coveralls
Now you know at the age of 4
Used to follow my mama to the grocery store
Wearing hand-me-down-me-downs from the neighbor folk
Life was tough. Life was hard
Couldn't get new shoes without a ration card
It sure seemed life was just a bitter joke
The other kids called me poor white trash
And when daddy was killed in an auto crash
The mill gave a thousand dollars for his wife and son
He got a company funeral in a white pine box
Mama started drinking to forget the loss
I guess this is where the story really begun
See, the son of a dead mill worker
And an alcoholic mother
Grew up to be this all American boy
Wearing 30 pants on a 34 frame
Ain't got to worry if it starts to rain
Just 15, Lord, and happy to be employed
The mill, they give me Daddy's job
Making cardboard out of big pine logs
9 hours a day and 5 hours overtime
Well, I scrimped a lot and saved a little
Put 10 in the bank and 20 in a fiddle
Just sit on the porch in the evening and play that thing
I got damn good in the way out back
Not much to do in a clapboard shack
I'd play for hours and Dan, my dog, would sing
I played mountian music and Roy Acuff
I played what I knew and if that weren't enough
I'd make up a song for the pine trees that I loved
The wind would whistle through the walls
Dan would pause to scratch his balls
Then howl another verse of some new song
One day down at the Rexall store
I was fiddling slow, feeling bored
A man in a checkered suit pulled up his car
Said, "Boy it sounds and looks to me
Like you should be in Tennessee
I'm a Nashville agent. I'm gonna make you a star."
"Gonna take you to the Opry House
You'll be a hit, you'll knock 'em out
The lights will read 'Now starring.....', what's your name?"
"I've got no name," was my reply,
Daddy forgot before he died
And mama, she ain't been too much use of late."
You can call me anything, offhand
Just call me the son of a no name man
Call me poor white trash, it's all the same to me
I've got my fiddle, got my dog
Got me a job humping big ass logs
And I've got this music deep inside of me
Got plenty to do when I'm energetic
But not enough time to be poetic
I can't quit my job just to be your star
Dan would starve without me here
And I would die without him near
I'll make it fine, so get back in your car
I was born back yonder in a clapboard shack
The wind would blow, life sure blew back
Born the only child of a no name man
Life was tough. Life was hard
Couldn't get wood without a ration card
You city boys, now y'all don't understand
Think I'll stay here in my backwoods town
Make the people smile when they come around
I am them and they are me and it's where I belong
If I'm half as good as you've been betting
I could go with you and make them records
But my friends here can't afford to buy the songs
So call me crazy, sure you will
Gonna stay right here at the paper mill
Live my life amongst the rocks and trees
I've got my roots in this rocky ground
And at night when the neighbors gather 'round
My friends can always share my songs for free
Ed 1980
Money Blues
Me and a road buddy I've known a while
tried to purchase a beer just using our smile
Now we're down in the dumps 'cause we had no damn luck
see, we have no American bucks
We've got pesos from P.I. and won from Korea
Yen from Japan where they're so glad to see ya
Dollars from Hong Kong and Singapore, too
but we can't buy a glass of American brew
Me and my buddy have traveled around
We've slept in resorts and we've crashed on the ground
Eaten monkey meat, squid, and some stuff on a stick
Now we can't look at rice without getting half sick
We've come to discover that we're both named Joe
just a little more trivia we did not know
We have so much money, that's why it seems queer
to find that we can't buy American beer
We've got pesos from P.I. and won from Korea
Yen from Japan where they're so glad to see ya
Dollars from Hong Kong and Singapore, too
but we can't buy a glass of American brew
We're stuck here in Idaho, men of the world
putting our moves on this snow bunny girl
went to buy her a drink, she looked at us strange
"Hey, what do I look like, a money exchange?"
And what could we say? The lady was right
we left thinking thoughts of those Philippine nights
kicked back in the shade with a cold San Miguel
instead of back in the States, broker than hell
We've got pesos from P.I. and won from Korea
Yen from Japan where they're so glad to see ya
Dollars from Hong Kong and Singapore, too
but we can't buy a glass of American brew
Well, Joe it sounds funny but I'm just like you
Together we're singing these old money blues
Ed 1980
I wrote this next one for a girlfriend who later became a wife. Just so you know there is some truth to these. And that I can be passionate. Sometimes. The dead daddy and alcoholic mama poem above, by the way, is not so much based in fact. I can't play fiddle and my dog is not named Dan.
Johnson City
Put your faith in me and I'll stick around
I won't hold you back, I won't chain you down
I will take your nights, weave such vivid scenes
When the silence laughs and your poor heart screams
We will wander through corridors of time
Taste the sweet, sweet life. Drink of bitter wine
Hold each other close with no alabis
Would you put your faith in me?
For the tapestry of our yesterdays
Hung upon the wall in a golden age
Now the sweat has dried from a frantic ride
And the pool of tears that once fell has dried
We will sing the songs neither's sung before
Lay emotions bare on the hardwood floor
Hold each other close, never wonder why
If you'll put your faith in me
Put your faith in me and never walk alone
As the sunlight fades and the shadows grow
What you give as love will come back in full
What you take from me.... I will give to you
We will grab the night by its flowing hair
Bring it to its knees in the warm, wet air
Hold each other close for eternity
If you'll put your faith in me
Ed 26Sept1984
My little corner of the blogsphere. If you biggerize this you will be able to:
a) See what the ballcap says
b)See a picture of me and Nong in flight over Chang Mai (photo immediately beneath printer)
Some of my many Japanese sake bottles.
Swadee doll. She greets you when you arrive, hopefully making you feel welcome. She smiles beautifully, but her English is a little wooden. 
TV viewing area. A well used space.
Water exits mountianside and then freezes. So simple. I was in awe of it. I took a shot with a car passing by to give scale, but it is better without it. It was a blue mini-van for those of you trying to imagine the scene. In need of a wash.
Picture = 1000 words. Biggerize this! 
This was a guy's yard way up atop a mountian. He may have been a member of a local tribe, but I'm guessing he has a little coin and thinks this is a pretty cool way to show it. Either way, I exited the car for this shot.
Maybe it's just me, but it just seemed a tad chilly here.
They park the planes on the lake. I have a picture showing more of the planes, but I loved the mountian in the background of this one.
I guess I never thought about where a dog sled race might begin. But now I know. They had t-shirts, but I resisted. 
When I am sick, Ramblin' Wreck is my main co-miserator. 'Cause, you know, nothing says "I'm there for you" like dog drool on your leg. No matter what you get from this picture, I was miserable!
My hotel was in the thick of things in Atlantic City. I went out for dinner, but I don't gamble so there wasn't much pull to the bright lights for me. I'm not anti-gambling, of course. I was not put on this earth to save people from themselves. I have just never enjoyed giving my money to someone else and having nothing to show for it. I'm funny that way.
One of my training classes. This class is about 2 1/2 times the size of a regular class. These students were brought in from all across the country and I had taught some before. 
Hmmmm... actually, this thing is pretty long.
OK! They just called Thailand. That's me. Whoo-hoo. Quick, how's that Lee Greenwood song go? You know, the one that's EVERYWHERE.
Amost done (gimmee....gimmee....gimmee.....)
End of the line. No more tests and, more importantly, no more checks to Uncle Sam.
The last few weeks have just plumb worn me out. I have been sick, the wife has been hospitalized, we've tested & been sworn in as a US citizen (I say we, as it was interacive, for sure), and she has wrecked her car. In the middle of all this, I have had to travel once and go into work most of the rest of the time. 3 weeks has pretty much felt like 6 months. Hopefully most of that is behind me now.
I loved Alaska. It was like the world's largest small town. Plus Anchorage was like the capital wall hung critters. And critters as hats. And..... well, basically the capital of anything that can be made with a shot dead critter. And no, it's not commentary or anything. I am not judgemental of hunting. But it is an accurate observation.
I went into the BX/PX on Elmendorf while I was there. I bought, and this is true, an Alaska sweatshirt, a RISK computer gaame (so as to hone my world domination skills), a TSA approved computer bag that can be scanned without removing the computer (a big convienence for me), and a weedless, floating frog. The frog is, of course, a fishing lure. And I am absolutely convinced that fishing lures are mainly designed to catch fishermen. And this one was that good. I took one look at it and could see the lunker exploding off of a submerged stump to hit this baby.
It was the only BX/PX I had ever been in that sold guns and crossbows, and the like. Again, I grew up in the rural south where guns could be bought anywhere and ammo bought everywhere. I used to stop at the Texaco station to pick up birdshot, so I am not disapproving. But I have never seen a base that would sell firearms. It was interesting.
I am fast approaching my trip to Erbil, Iraq. I hope the per diem is high. I mean, I should come home with a little extra jingle because I don't see me out in town partying in Erbil. I understand it is up north, I think in the Kurdish area. Near Turkey, I am told. I don't know. Have not researched it. In fact, wait a sec.... OK, I'm back. Here's an article from March 2007 that right fairly describes the place now: http://www.michaeltotten.com/archives/001407.html. Plus now that I've read this, perhaps I can see me headed out a night or two while there.
I had a lot of stories I was gonna tell, but the last few weeks just beat that right out of me. So I will go to my fallback position of poems and pictures. These 3 poems are not particularly good, except that I wrote them before I was even 21. So in that respect I find them pretty doggone insightful about the world. Not to mention, they are mostly pretty funny. So hopefully, get a kick out of this old stuff. Or you can skip straight to the pictures that come after.
No Name Man
In North Carolina in a clapboard shack
Where the wind would blow and life blew back
Life began for the son of a no name man
Well life was tough and life was hard
Couldn't get no milk without a ration card
But a 10 week baby boy couldn't understand
I'd say, "What's the scoop, mama?" in my baby head
She'd think I was tired and put me to bed
I learned to talk from the wind whistling through the walls
Daddy worked hard just to meet the bills
Sixteen hours at the paper mill
That bone tired man wore thin and dirty coveralls
Now you know at the age of 4
Used to follow my mama to the grocery store
Wearing hand-me-down-me-downs from the neighbor folk
Life was tough. Life was hard
Couldn't get new shoes without a ration card
It sure seemed life was just a bitter joke
The other kids called me poor white trash
And when daddy was killed in an auto crash
The mill gave a thousand dollars for his wife and son
He got a company funeral in a white pine box
Mama started drinking to forget the loss
I guess this is where the story really begun
See, the son of a dead mill worker
And an alcoholic mother
Grew up to be this all American boy
Wearing 30 pants on a 34 frame
Ain't got to worry if it starts to rain
Just 15, Lord, and happy to be employed
The mill, they give me Daddy's job
Making cardboard out of big pine logs
9 hours a day and 5 hours overtime
Well, I scrimped a lot and saved a little
Put 10 in the bank and 20 in a fiddle
Just sit on the porch in the evening and play that thing
I got damn good in the way out back
Not much to do in a clapboard shack
I'd play for hours and Dan, my dog, would sing
I played mountian music and Roy Acuff
I played what I knew and if that weren't enough
I'd make up a song for the pine trees that I loved
The wind would whistle through the walls
Dan would pause to scratch his balls
Then howl another verse of some new song
One day down at the Rexall store
I was fiddling slow, feeling bored
A man in a checkered suit pulled up his car
Said, "Boy it sounds and looks to me
Like you should be in Tennessee
I'm a Nashville agent. I'm gonna make you a star."
"Gonna take you to the Opry House
You'll be a hit, you'll knock 'em out
The lights will read 'Now starring.....', what's your name?"
"I've got no name," was my reply,
Daddy forgot before he died
And mama, she ain't been too much use of late."
You can call me anything, offhand
Just call me the son of a no name man
Call me poor white trash, it's all the same to me
I've got my fiddle, got my dog
Got me a job humping big ass logs
And I've got this music deep inside of me
Got plenty to do when I'm energetic
But not enough time to be poetic
I can't quit my job just to be your star
Dan would starve without me here
And I would die without him near
I'll make it fine, so get back in your car
I was born back yonder in a clapboard shack
The wind would blow, life sure blew back
Born the only child of a no name man
Life was tough. Life was hard
Couldn't get wood without a ration card
You city boys, now y'all don't understand
Think I'll stay here in my backwoods town
Make the people smile when they come around
I am them and they are me and it's where I belong
If I'm half as good as you've been betting
I could go with you and make them records
But my friends here can't afford to buy the songs
So call me crazy, sure you will
Gonna stay right here at the paper mill
Live my life amongst the rocks and trees
I've got my roots in this rocky ground
And at night when the neighbors gather 'round
My friends can always share my songs for free
Ed 1980
Money Blues
Me and a road buddy I've known a while
tried to purchase a beer just using our smile
Now we're down in the dumps 'cause we had no damn luck
see, we have no American bucks
We've got pesos from P.I. and won from Korea
Yen from Japan where they're so glad to see ya
Dollars from Hong Kong and Singapore, too
but we can't buy a glass of American brew
Me and my buddy have traveled around
We've slept in resorts and we've crashed on the ground
Eaten monkey meat, squid, and some stuff on a stick
Now we can't look at rice without getting half sick
We've come to discover that we're both named Joe
just a little more trivia we did not know
We have so much money, that's why it seems queer
to find that we can't buy American beer
We've got pesos from P.I. and won from Korea
Yen from Japan where they're so glad to see ya
Dollars from Hong Kong and Singapore, too
but we can't buy a glass of American brew
We're stuck here in Idaho, men of the world
putting our moves on this snow bunny girl
went to buy her a drink, she looked at us strange
"Hey, what do I look like, a money exchange?"
And what could we say? The lady was right
we left thinking thoughts of those Philippine nights
kicked back in the shade with a cold San Miguel
instead of back in the States, broker than hell
We've got pesos from P.I. and won from Korea
Yen from Japan where they're so glad to see ya
Dollars from Hong Kong and Singapore, too
but we can't buy a glass of American brew
Well, Joe it sounds funny but I'm just like you
Together we're singing these old money blues
Ed 1980
I wrote this next one for a girlfriend who later became a wife. Just so you know there is some truth to these. And that I can be passionate. Sometimes. The dead daddy and alcoholic mama poem above, by the way, is not so much based in fact. I can't play fiddle and my dog is not named Dan.
Johnson City
Put your faith in me and I'll stick around
I won't hold you back, I won't chain you down
I will take your nights, weave such vivid scenes
When the silence laughs and your poor heart screams
We will wander through corridors of time
Taste the sweet, sweet life. Drink of bitter wine
Hold each other close with no alabis
Would you put your faith in me?
For the tapestry of our yesterdays
Hung upon the wall in a golden age
Now the sweat has dried from a frantic ride
And the pool of tears that once fell has dried
We will sing the songs neither's sung before
Lay emotions bare on the hardwood floor
Hold each other close, never wonder why
If you'll put your faith in me
Put your faith in me and never walk alone
As the sunlight fades and the shadows grow
What you give as love will come back in full
What you take from me.... I will give to you
We will grab the night by its flowing hair
Bring it to its knees in the warm, wet air
Hold each other close for eternity
If you'll put your faith in me
Ed 26Sept1984
My little corner of the blogsphere. If you biggerize this you will be able to:a) See what the ballcap says
b)See a picture of me and Nong in flight over Chang Mai (photo immediately beneath printer)
Some of my many Japanese sake bottles.
Swadee doll. She greets you when you arrive, hopefully making you feel welcome. She smiles beautifully, but her English is a little wooden. 
TV viewing area. A well used space.
Water exits mountianside and then freezes. So simple. I was in awe of it. I took a shot with a car passing by to give scale, but it is better without it. It was a blue mini-van for those of you trying to imagine the scene. In need of a wash.
Picture = 1000 words. Biggerize this! 
This was a guy's yard way up atop a mountian. He may have been a member of a local tribe, but I'm guessing he has a little coin and thinks this is a pretty cool way to show it. Either way, I exited the car for this shot.
Maybe it's just me, but it just seemed a tad chilly here.
They park the planes on the lake. I have a picture showing more of the planes, but I loved the mountian in the background of this one.
I guess I never thought about where a dog sled race might begin. But now I know. They had t-shirts, but I resisted. 
When I am sick, Ramblin' Wreck is my main co-miserator. 'Cause, you know, nothing says "I'm there for you" like dog drool on your leg. No matter what you get from this picture, I was miserable!
My hotel was in the thick of things in Atlantic City. I went out for dinner, but I don't gamble so there wasn't much pull to the bright lights for me. I'm not anti-gambling, of course. I was not put on this earth to save people from themselves. I have just never enjoyed giving my money to someone else and having nothing to show for it. I'm funny that way.
One of my training classes. This class is about 2 1/2 times the size of a regular class. These students were brought in from all across the country and I had taught some before. 
Hmmmm... actually, this thing is pretty long.
OK! They just called Thailand. That's me. Whoo-hoo. Quick, how's that Lee Greenwood song go? You know, the one that's EVERYWHERE.
Amost done (gimmee....gimmee....gimmee.....)
End of the line. No more tests and, more importantly, no more checks to Uncle Sam.Very clearly a case for corn flakes and classics, out
Ramblin' Ed
That's what I'm about. Ramblin' Ed at 11:04 AM
1 comments:
Again, Congrats to the MRS's.
Erbil is up north alright, a little to the right. A WAY Different place than most. During my time over there, Security Contractors told me of walking the streets there. The place was safe, and bustleing. Sorry, I don't know any Kurdish.
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