Okay, trying to clear the board on followers.

The following sites are followers that I have not identified as I’ve been busy trying to clean out my office, paint the house, write my blog, visit with friends, clean out the garage, install a new ceiling drop down door (did that), and various other things.  So, apologies to everyone, I normally try to recognize new followers quickly but am overwhelmed.

1) Hello to ARTOURWAY…. “True stories about people are the best.  To keep it simple, I’m an artist. Being born in Victoria, British Columbia was the beginning of a grand adventure. Thanks Mom! That sounds fictional. Honestly, growing up during the 70’s in this botanical garden city was like being on a permanent vacation. Everyday was a holiday . .  like being a tourist in my own home town. By the way, this is an actual yearly event of BC’s capital; “tourist in your own town week”.  http://artourway.com/about-art-our-way/

2) Hello to JOSEFP2015   http://en.gravatar.com/josefp2015

3) Someone named ROHAN who deleted his pages.

4) Susan Bellfield     http://en.gravatar.com/freeurchi       Go to the following address    https://susanbellfield.wordpress.com/

5)http://en.gravatar.com/rejistephenson  He comes from London. Reji Stephenson. Interesting pages Reji.

6) NADAV like to read books on success…. https://successisheredotco.wordpress.com/about/

7) https://farifahad06.wordpress.com/about/

8) https://englishphilia.wordpress.com/about/

9)http://en.gravatar.com/monnester  A beautiful young lady with a lot to share.



Okay, well, as I am easily distracted I know I am going to have to stop. I am listening to Naked and Afraid on TV and writing this and I must have about 30 more new followers. You know as much as I love mentioning all of you, this is really time-consuming and I am not doing as much as what I had set out to do in telling about you all. Hopefully that makes sense. Anyway, I think this will be the last post about new followers. I am just overrun with new followers which I could actually start a blog just for new followers but then I wouldn’t get anything else done. So, we’ll see. For now, I am done with this and will go back to writing my blog.

the semicolon project

Very interesting. Having dealt myself with depression and having friends whose depression took their lives, I think this is worth reading.


FullSizeRender-1FullSizeRender Today I went to a tattoo artist, and for $60 I let a man with a giant Jesus-tattoo on his head ink a semi-colon onto my wrist where it will stay until the day I die. By now, enough people have started asking questions that it made sense for me to start talking, and talking about things that aren’t particularly easy.

We’ll start here: a semi-colon is a place in a sentence where the author has the decision to stop with a period, but chooses not to. A semi-colon is a reminder to pause and then keep going. 

In April I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety. By the beginning of May I was popping anti-depressents every morning with a breakfast I could barely stomach. In June, I had to leave a job I’d wanted since I first set foot on this campus as an incoming freshmen because of my mental…

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This morning, at 0730, I received a phone call from the wife of a longtime friend. Her name is Brandy. His name was Chuck. He died last night.

Chuck was a Vietnam Vet. He had a Bronze Star, sixteen Air Medals. Each Air Medal reflects 24 hours of combat flying for those in the Army. He also  had been presented an Army Commendation with V device and a Purple Heart.

I wrote an article about him which, I believe, is to be published by the Soldier of Fortune Magazine in another month. On October 20. 1969, Chuck turned 19. Five days later he was aboard a helicopter flying into the dark of night. Its mission was to find and rescue a Special Forces Team that had been “inserted” the day before into an area in Laos.

Chuck did not know that I had learned the article is to be printed. I was holding that knowledge as a surprise for him. That night in 1969 was so incredibly important to him. Had I called yesterday and told him he would have died with the knowledge that what we had set out to do in December of 2014 was finally coming into being. It makes me sick to know that he was unaware of this fact at his death.

These past few weeks have been so strange. First came the death of Dan Anders from Pancreatic Cancer. Dan was a miracle man. He was the only living human that had survived being exposed to Anthrax. He was an Air Force Vietnam Vet.

Then came Randall Gooding who is still in a coma after emergency surgery for a perforated bowel. He and I were in Vietnam together in the same outfit in 1965. We have been friends since 1963.

Then came my own problems and visits to the ER at the Bay Pines VA Hospital because of breathing problems.

Next came my wife and the incredible pain she had encountered from last Wednesday night on and our trip to the ER  at Sarasota Memorial Hospital on Saturday in an attempt to solve that which we never did learn the cause of.

Last came the phone call this morning telling me that Chuck V, as we called him as there is another Chuck in the group but his last name starts with a B and so whenever we were speaking of one or the other we identified them with either the V or the B).

So, Brandy called and told me that Chuck had died unexpectantly. He had walked down the hall during the night and feel. She went to him and he told her he could not breathe. She attempted to help him with his portable oxygen machine. No help. He was pronounced dead at the hospital.

I and everyone close to Chuck V find ourselves in a state of shock. He will be missed in our group that meets at the St. Pete Vet Center. His chair will be empty. And there will also be an empty spot in our hearts.

I can write no more. I am staggered by the loss. I cannot even proof read this. It is what it is.

Monday 6/15/15 at 0320 = 3.20 AM

What should I write about at 3:20 AM? Perhaps it is why I am awake. Well the plan was to be asleep. However, I am not. My wife will probably be out here in a minute or two with a disapproving look on her face, but it is what it is.

She has been sick, or perhaps it would be better to say that she has been in a great deal of pain since the middle of the night Wednesday. We went to the ER (emergency room) on Saturday more because of my being insistent than any other reason. They ran some tests, took blood, urine, blood pressure, oxygen level, you know, all the standard “we don’t know what is wrong with you tests but we gotta look like we know what we’re doing tests and comments.”

So, of course the winner is the hospital and the doctor because they will bill the insurance company (and us) some God awful amount of money for what little they did. I think that hospitals and doctors should get paid based on the reality that they accomplished something other than just looking like they accomplished something. If you hire a plumber they don’t come to the house and turn the water on, then flush the toilet, then go check the water meter, and then say, “Well, we checked this and that and we find you do have water, the toilet flushed, and the meter seems to be just fine so we don’t have any leaks, as far as that smell coming from the upstairs hall we think you have a dead mouse stuck in the wall. Here’s my bill.” Well, perhaps not to that extreme, but you get the point.  =


Very deep. Excellent poem. Excellent thoughts.


With my hand stretched to the sky I can’not touch the stars so high,

Nor the clouds, a falling star, or the sun going down.

The wind, I can’not grab hold, a bird in flight,

A dream in the night, never a yesterday.

Beyond my reach is not my dreams,

It is not that which i pray for.

The hand of god I can’not touch, in my heart I can surely take hold,

It is not hope, nor faith, it is not a tomorrow.

Beyond my reach are many things,

Beyond my reach is not everything.

Keith Garrett

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A new follower of mine who is into poetry. Her poetry will hit home with a lot of you. She shares thoughts and dreams and hurts as well. Don’t expect fancy drawings. Don’t expect silly nonsensical poetry. She writes from the heart. Be prepared.




Best to all. Gordon.

Hunters -v- Grocery Store Shoppers

I’ve been thinking. Ever since someone posted the picture of the 5 or 6 bears and 2 or 3 wolves that were shot out in the field by hunters who then had a photograph taken of them and their kills I have been reading about how terrible it was. How sad. How society should make these monsters with guns pay heavily in fines and have their weapons seized and destroyed and on and on. So, I have an answer for you.

At first I was saddened because of the loss of beauty in wild life. But, I also understand the need for population and disease control which is necessary. One person wrote and said that the bears showed no signs of being hungry or distressed in any way. Bravo. That was then, what might have happened if they had not had the hunt. Oh, I’m sure I’ll get some answers on that. BUT you don’t really know the answer because, unless you are God, you can’t foresee the future. The future is changeable, even mediums will tell you that. BUT.. I digress.

So, the hunter goes out and shoots a bear having a great time eating berries. The bear dies where it was born, grew up, mated, had a life……..

Now, Mr. and Mrs. Grocery shopper…. how nice it is to go buy a piece of meat at the meat marked all wrapped up nice and neat. Right? Hey, you didn’t participate in the killing of the animal. Right? No blood on your hands (well you might get some when you unwrap the package you terror of the meat market.) But you weren’t there when the animal died, were you? NO.

Fact: beef cows taken to the meat processors are shot full of growth hormones without their permission. {Excuse me, Mrs. Cow, just a bit of a prick here, wont’ hurt much.) And then there is the branding iron…of course we all know that doesn’t hurt….much… right? Oh and the truck ride. A limo please. No, shoved in as tight as they can be so that they cannot lie down, or fall down, which is fortunate because if they did they would be trampled to death. Oh dear. So, there they stand, necks arched back, eyes wide with fear….but this is so much better than someone shooting them with a high-powered rifle that will kill them almost immediately. Oh yes, joy, joy, joy… lets all join hands and sing Kumbaya because we buy our meat at the supermarket and don’t participate in the killing of these animals. We are spiritually free of any entanglement with their deaths, no bad karma here.

Well, then they get to the processing plant and they are shoved and prodded out of the trucks and into holding pens where they again are forced to stand together, urinate and defecate together and they stand heads back as far as they can trying to breathe fresh air and wondering what is going to happen to them….but.. hey, damn site better than standing eating some berries in a field well-known to them, enjoying the buzzing of flies, watching egrets did up bugs. No, hey, they can get to hear the buzz of flies landing and placing eggs in the shit at their feet.

Then comes the march to death, down a single file runway, being prodded by cow sticks, electric shock tools….oh, isn’t that fun? Then the shell of the blood and the cries coming from inside the building and the terror mounts BUT….isn’t this fun for all of you who claim that hunters are barbaric and so horrid that they shoot an animal which dies almost immediately. NOT you want them to suffer, really suffer, and you DARE call hunters aholes and bastards and talk about how cruel they are. Well, if I was a cow I would damn sure be happier at being shot in my own pasture, a bear in my own woods, a pig out running free than being crammed into a truck, and then all the rest of it……But I grow weary, because probably only a few of you wonderful “we are better than you” people out there have even read to this point. Shall we discuss the steaming of chickens alive to get rid of the feathers? Think about that the next time you go get a package of processed chicken, skinless, boneless. They hang them up by their feet and slit their throats one after an other after another and then run them on the conveyor belt into a machine that scalds them with high pressurized steam to get the feathers off. Oh the blessings of being someone who simply can curse a hunter and go to the super market and buy your meat so nicely wrapped and you never see the horror do you. You’re such a goody person. But those damn hunters, terrorist to the animals in the field who shoot and take predators, reduce populations with licenses to do so, they are the terror you must fight against. Right? Right? Next time you buy a steak maybe you might want to stop and listen. Maybe you can hear them scream when their throats are cut  while suspended and the next person slits open the belly so the guts fall out….oh so much happier and so much better than a high-powered bullet ripping through their hearts and dropping them dead to the ground. So much better the meat processor method …. RIGHT? I can’t hear you, but if you listen you might hear their screams. So here’s the end. Don’t bother me with your shit about hunters. 99% of the time it is a clean kill where they live and with little if any pain or fear. No, go buy a steak and feel good about yourself  because YOU aren’t a nasty, terrible, hunter. You only hunt in air conditioning in the cleanliness of a grocery store.

The Damn Media

A 14-year-old boy sneaks in and inappropriately touches his sleeping sisters. Is that bad? Yes. He’s 14. His hormones are screaming. He is living in a household that forbids even thinking about sex. What do you expect??? Well, one this is certain, you don’t expect the damn police to release sealed records of a minor. That officer needs to be prosecuted and maybe, just maybe someone should open up their background and find out what is hiding there. My bet is there is gold there. And the same applies to the people at In Touch Magazine that rag that printed the story. They didn’t print it for educational purposes. They printed it to make money on shame and sorry event that happened 11 years ago for which the kid and everyone else went through counseling. And, the went to the police and the kid confessed to an officer AND that officer is now in prison because they were into internet porn.

There isn’t a person on this planet that has something in their past that they would not want out there. But this is an attack on these people.

Now, I know, someone is going to write and say, but they are on TV… personally, I  don’t get a damn where they are. To do this to a family and to children is immoral and criminal in my way of thinking.

I did not watch the two girls tossed to the media flames on Fox last night and I had also not watched the interview with the parents. It is none of my business, and it should be none of yours. But, that cop needs to be arrested, and that rag of a magazine put out of business. That is where the real crime is, not with this 14-year-old kid who was punished for it. Why punish the whole damn family?

Fox News and In Touch Magazine and that cop all need to pay the price for the damage they have done to these people. In Touch’s staff needs to be forced out of the media world completely. They are trash in my estimation.

New Followers

Hello! Well, as I said in my last post, I have even more, God help me.  Smiles. Anyway, here we go. And there are some interesting ones here.


http://en.gravatar.com/missymichaels452   She’s a poet. Or, is that poetess? I don’t know…or is that IDK…..I have no idea. Anyway, she has a page at: http://fromsorrowtoserenity.me/ which is interesting. She writes using the name XQUISITE.


https://anonymousindian29.wordpress.com/2015/04/02/the-wall/  Great page, excellent writing….15 years old . You really have to visit this one.


sonpreet29  is at   http://en.gravatar.com/sonpreet29 …………there was nothing else there. sorry.  no pages to look at but I think they like motorcycles.


And then we have…..Nugget Tales…. This is a great page/site. If you write and you want to share with others you should look into Nugget Tales. It is a place to share your writing with others. Great idea. Great site.



I will add more later. Busy day.