Tuesday, May 31, 2005

obligayshuns of buddy don: no time to blog


i gut to be on the 5:48 am bus, so with my pallgies, i aint gut time to blog.

heres a pitcher of a friendly dog that visited us yesterdy:


Monday, May 30, 2005

pitchers tuck by buddy don: memoryall day


me n miz bd wuz dee lighted whenever we went out n caught the sunrise:


folks wuz alreddy out a'doon thangs, lack usin park benches:


or walkin thar dogs:


thay wuz sum local trash that needed pickin up, witch heres ye a pitcher i had to bowdler eyesed fer ye:


one feller wuz a'meditatin with his back turnt agin the sun:


nuther feller wuz fishin:


we wuz a'goin down to see whut folks had dun to celebrate memoryall day round here, witch furst we found this post with pitchers under glass:


famus sayin round these parts is heaven, hell or hoboken. heres why:


our boys had plenty to fite fer:


this here feller spotted us a'takin them pitchers n wuz he ever happy bout it. turns out he wuz out spiffin the place with them pitchers n flags n such. hes a local celeb practically names of mikey rails on a counta whenever he cum back frum the korean war, he started a bizness a makin rails fer folks, lack the one he made round that rock them french give us, witch its down a spell on the page. but furst, heres mikey rails, witch he give bof me n miz bd a flag to carry:


heres that french rock the way mikey rails had it decorated, witch that iron rail ye see thar is the kinda rail he used to sell:


heres whut them french writ (in english) on a lil plak they putt on that thar rock:


he give miz bd a cuple flags lack i dun alreddy sed n he also give her this here pitcher of a memoryall hes a trine to git putt up fer the 155 vets frum this town that died in wwii, witch miz bd helt it up whar i could git a pitcher of that thar pitcher:


after all that eggcitement, we wuz reddy fer sum brakefuss so we went over to chock full o-nuts n gut a date nut bread classick with cream cheese n a cuppa coffee fer me n a large green ice tea fer miz bd. then we tuck them flags n stuck em into our park bench n sat back to watch the world goin by:

Sunday, May 29, 2005

pitchers tuck by buddy don: man hattan n brooklyn

tiz hard to be a bird in the city:



only in new york:



purty in pink:



verr intents man:



cruel shoes:



nap time:



three eggspreshuns:



takin a sip:



sine of the times:



rasta_buds_in_brooklyn:



the human stream:



folks sanger sangin blue moon of kentucky in brooklyn:



smoke brake at wurk:



a real fotogruffer:



the path home:


Friday, May 27, 2005

life of buddy don, chaptur 137: findin cassandra worthy

i wuz givin my comp 102 class dicktayshun, witch dr streeter tole me twuz importunt to do on a counta he figgerd a big reason ‘our students’ had truble with standurd english wuz how they dint here eggzackly whut wuz bein sed to em. mayhap twuz true, mayhap not, but i lacked havin the chants to give em dicktayshun that i figgerd mite git sum good conversayshuns a’goin. so i tuck my texts frum folks lack harriet tubman, frederick douglass, sojourner truth, booker t. washington, w.e.b. dubois, james weldon johnson, richard wright, langston hughes, mary mcleod bethune, marcus garvey, paul robeson, fannie lou hamer, malcolm x, martin luther king, jr., lorraine hansberry n angela davis, jes to menchun a few of em.

sum eggzamples of them thangs i dicktated to em include the follerin:
  • harriet tubman:
    ‘I had reasoned this out in my mind, there was one of two things I had a right to, liberty or death; if I could not have one, I would have the other.’
  • frederick douglass: [befor dickatin thisn, i set it up by splainin that it cum frum frederick douglass’ autobiogruffy name of my bondage and my freedom whar his masters wife wuz a’teachin im to read the bible n gut caught by his master, who wuz verr angry bout it n sed that ‘if you teach that nigger--speaking of myself--how to read the bible, there will be no keeping him ... it would forever unfit him for the duties of a slave’]:
    It was a new and special revelation, dispelling a painful mystery, against which my youthful understanding had struggled, and struggled in vain, to wit: the white man's power to perpetuate the enslavement of the black man. "Very well," thought I; "knowledge unfits a child to be a slave." I instinctively assented to the proposition; and from that moment I understood the direct pathway from slavery to freedom.
  • fannie lou hamer:
    ‘What was the point of being scared? The only thing they could do to me was kill me and it seemed like they'd been trying to do that a little bit at a time ever since I could remember.’
sumtimes after dicktayshun, i wood tell em bout the books they could win but pickin up whutever i had in the box that day. one time i picked up james weldon johnson’s autobiography of an ex-colored man n ast em had they ever herd bout sumthin i found verr sprizin: the brown paper bag test, witch twuz a test fer gittin into a party or a secret society or whutever. dint nobidy raze thar hand, so i tride to splain it to em bes i understood it, witch twuz sumtimes used as a way to figger out who wuz a’gone be let into a party. at the door thard be a brown paper bag n a comb. to git in, ye had to pass the brown paper bag test, a test whar ye had to compare yer skin with the color of a brown paper bag n ifn twuz darker, ye stayed out. ifn twuz liter, ye had to pull that comb thru yer hair n ifn yer hair wuz too ‘nappy,’ ye dint git in.

so i ast em ifn twuz still true that ye wuz judged in the black communty by the color of yer skin n whuther ye could pull a comb thru yer hair. they looked at me lack they thought i wuz crazy, witch mayhap i am. finely a feller name of randall rucker hollerd out, ‘you askin us whether light-skinded, good haired women be fine?” that gut the hole class to laffin to whar i couldnt hardly git em to quit. one yung lady name of sharon worth gut to coffin n i made a joke bout how she better not die in my class, witch that made everbidy laff that much harder.

but sharon dint stop coffin n purty soon ye could see she wuz chokin on sumthin. i hollerd at the class to shut up fer the furst time in my hole time of teachin. i ast sharon could she stand up, but she wuz havin truble. i looked over to gary williams n he gut up to hep her stand up n purty soon we gut her out in the hall, still a’coffin her pore hed off. i ast gary to hole her on one side n gut randall to hole tuther n sed i wuz a’gone try sumthin i had dun read about, witch thats the himelick manoover.

i gut behind her n reached around her, witch by now everbidy wuz out in the halls n sumbidy ast in the whitest voice ye could magin cummin frum a black mouth wuz i coppin a feel, witch that made everbidy laff even tho sharon wuz turnin blue. i put my fist agin her sternum n give it a lil whack, but nuthin happend. then i figgerd twood be better to do too much than too lil, so i hauled off n give her the bes punch i could putt on. a huge wad of gum flew out frum her mouth n splat agin the brick wall of that hall. she wuz still coffin but by this time, she wuz catchin her breath. i let the class go after that n sharon follerd me down to my offus, witch she wonted to thank me.

after that we gut into a long talk. she tole me bout chaucer n his refernts to ‘the gat toothed woman’ n how a gat toothed woman is a loose woman, so thay wuznt nuthin she could do bout how she wuz a loose woman on a counta the gap in her frunt teeth. i tole her that wuz as purty a piece of rashnullzayshun as ever i herd n we laffed. she tole me bout havin growd up a army brat, born in warner robbins whar thay wuz a air force base n how her mama had died befor she ever gut to meet her but her daddy wuz a good man who tuck keer of her till he died of hi blood preshure at the age of 42, witch she gut a lil soshul securty till she gut out of skool, ifn i recolleck ritely.

she wuz sprizingly well-read n sharp as a damned tack, but no matter whut topick we hit, twood lead to sex till finely she tole me how she had dun had a trane run on her, witch i dint understand whut she ment till she splaind whut sounded lack a gang rape that she had jes let happen. she kep trine to be brave bout it n say how twuz the bes nite of sex she ever had, but finely i had to ast why thay wuz tears in her eyes n then she gut to crine to whar i ast her wuz i a’gone half to give her a nuther himlick manoover jes to keep her frum chokin? that made her laff n spit out her gum.

then she sed how bad as she had it, twuznt near so bad as whut happend to cassandra worthy, witch she sed cassandra had gone to a party over at utk n gut raped by two fellers that dint understand the word ‘no.’ i sed how that must splain why cassandra had disappeard n she anserd back that she hadnt disappeard atall, that her ass wuz jes as black it ever wuz. so i ast whar wuz she n she sed she had gone into thar dorm room n dint wonta cum out. she sed thay wuz sisters on a counta havin the same last name ceptn fer one letter, how she wuz worth n cassandra wuz worthy.

we kep a’talkin fer a bit till twuz time fer me to go to my nex class. she ast me wood i mind ifn she gut cassandra to cum to my offus. ‘she need somebody to talk to, somebody like you, mr d.’ i ast her when n she ast wood i be in my offus after class? i sed i wood even tho i generly walked strate home after that last class. but i wonted to meet the student who had dun read the color purple n dun made alice walker her hero.

whenever they finely cum by, witch twuz near a hour after class, seem lack i wuz seein cassandra fer the verr furst time. she wuz a verr long-limbed, awkward woman with a severely pigeon-toed way of walkin. she wuz lef handed n verr dark but not quite ‘blue-black.’ i wood larn later how she had a verr nice smile n beeyootifull eyes, but that day she woodnt hardly look up frum her hands. dint hardly seem the matter whut i sed, she dint anser nor say nuthin. sharon kep tellin me whut cassandra wooda sed ifn she could talk. so i ast sharon ifn she wonted to cum by n take that class jes in my offus? sharon looked over to cassandra on a counta she dint know the anser, but cassandra looked up at me fer a split secunt n sed she mite thank bout it. then she gut up n ran out. sharon tole me not to wurry, ‘she hurtin, mr. d. she dont mean nothin by that.’

whenever i gut home n me n emily had et our dinner, i tole her bout cassandra. wuz i ever sprized when emily broke into tears. twuznt sprizin that emily wood cry, witch she wuz a champeen at makin them tears flow, but generly twuz on a counta sumthin bein sed that hurt her feelins. so i ast whut wuz rong n that made her cry wurser. so i waited till finely she gut her breath.

then she splaind sumthin i hadnt never knowd bout her, witch wuz how whenever she wuz yung, jes 12 or 13, n they wood all go out to cross dinner n drankin club fer dinner n her daddy pete wood be a’gittin drunk n her mama maureen wood be trine to git im to go home, witch that wuz how they spent hours at a time, she attrackted the tenchun of a older feller name of charley waller. then she cried n cried till i went over to my chair n patted my lap n she crawled up in toot n curled up n kep a crine while i stroked her hair. by then i had purty much sussed out whut had happend more or less but when she caught her breath agin, she tole me the hole story, witch i wish to this day i hadnt never herd it. ye hate to thank folks kin be so evil n corrupt as to take add vantage of a yung gurl, but it hurts even more when tiz the woman ye luv n thar aint a thang ye kin do but listen.

so thats jes whut i dun as she tole me bout how he wood ast her to take a drive n then tell her how purty she wuz n whut a fine woman she wuz n how that went rite to her hed on a counta she dint git no tenchun frum pete on a counta how he wuz always drunk. then she cried fer a bit n i tole her she dint half to tell me no more, how i purty much knew whut happend, but that made her mad so i stroke her hed n sed i wood listen even ifn twuz a’brakin my hart, witch twuz jes whut she wonted to here, so she tole me how he gut her to show im her breasts n her legs n then wonted to show her thangs, witch i figger ye know whut all happend frum that.

i dint know nuthin to say, so i jes let her rattle on till she gut it all out. then she cried even harder n held onto me till ye mite could thank she wuz a’gone strangle me. then she ast me wood i brang cassandra home to meet her?

Thursday, May 26, 2005

pinions of buddy don: respeck fer human life

heres a pitcher of our presdent supportin life. heres whut he had to say whenever he wuz settin up the foto opportunty:
I believe America must pursue the tremendous possibilities of science, and I believe we can do so while still fostering and encouraging respect for human life in all its stages. (Applause.) In the complex debate over embryonic stem cell research, we must remember that real human lives are involved --both the lives of those with diseases that might find cures from this research, and the lives of the embryos that will be destroyed in the process. The children here today are reminders that every human life is a precious gift of matchless value. (Applause.)
heres sum pitchers ye probly aint seen n mayhap ye dont wonta see em. i warn ye in add vants bout how thar sum verr ugly sites ifn ye foller them lanks. so ye mite wonta perteck yerself by gittin ye sum argon down in the pit cnn or fox news or msnbc or inny of them netwurk news cumpnys or even the new york times or the washington post or inny other majur amurkin newspaper.

but ifn ye caint resist n refuse to be warned, then heres sum lanks bout how "we must remember that real human lives are involved."

iraqi dead in baghdad frum us helicopter attack.

verr ugly pitchers of folks that gut dead in iraq (warnin: includes amurkins!) frum all kinda causes that result frum our war to prevent em frum usin wmd.

good bad n ugly pitchers of events in iraq, as seen by the Volunteer Medics Worldwide.

heres one of them left wing moonbat sites, witch ye caint eggspeck em to hold back, so be perpared ifn ye click here! thisns so ugly on a counta how they show lil children that gut in the way. i dont know whuther they wuz enemy combatants.

heres a articull (no pitchers on a counta how tiz frum reuters) bout sumthin that happend jes today: U.S. military says child killed in Iraq gun fight.

as mr bush dun sed, "The children here today are reminders that every human life is a precious gift of matchless value." he wuz talkin bout the 81 successful implants that cum to his foto opportunty.

he dont wont no stem cells to be killt in resurch meant to save folks, but tiz ok ifn they have near half million unclaimed stem cells, witch thar froze or deestroyed. mr delay has chimed in too!

corse, taint everbidy that agrees. mr arlen specter has his own way of lookin at it n his own tragick look.

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

pinions of buddy don: the re-attitudes

Matthews 5 (King Karl Version)

1 And seeing the multitudes, he went down into an undisclosed location: and when he was set, his disciples and lobbyists and party operatives came unto him:

2 And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying,

3 Blessed are the rich in material things: for theirs is the right to increase their wealth by plundering the resources of the garden they tend (at God’s command), creating their own kingdom of heaven on earth in gated communities far removed from the toxic waste dumps that shall result from their plundering of said garden.

4 Blessed are they that rejoice in the death of their adversaries: for they shall be widely praised as true Americans who won’t allow themselves to inherit the defeatist attitudes resulting from the Vietnam war (or the pacifist false Jesus of the libruls).

5 Blessed are the bold: for they shall take the earth, remove its exhaustible resources, cut taxes on the rich, criminalize sexual orientation, create a culture of life limited to the unborn and to keeping the suffering agéd safe from euthanasia and the social security they overpaid for from 1983 until the present but not extended to the innocent citizens of countries that must be destroyed to be saved; be allowed to dress up in a jump suit, pretend to land a fighter plane on and strut across the surface of an aircraft carrier before a banner that says “Mission Accomplished” and claim that major combat operations are over and yet later boldly claim that they didn’t put up the banner or mean what they said if it turns out that thousands of the foreigners you invaded to save from death and torture end up dead and tortured or even hundreds of our own brave soldiers should die in further combat operations or an insurgency they bolded assumed would not come, for they shall be given unlimited power in Washington and be praised on Fox news.

6 Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after power at any cost: for they shall be full of it.

7 Blessed are the pitiless: for they shall deny mercy to anyone they suspect of being a terrorist, a homosexual, a journalist with integrity, a librul, a Democrat or anyone else who gets in the way of their need to turn the US of A into a single-party state.

8 Blessed are the pure in partisan policy: for they shall use God.

9 Blessed are the warmongers: for they shall be called upon to kill the children of God in unfortunate instances of collateral damage while they are spreading democracy and self-determination to those who don’t have the sense to vote for it themselves or to determine their own future for themselves.

10 Blessed are they which are persecuted for right-wing causes' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of Washington and the forum of Fox News, corporate cable outlets, and other forms of Infotainment (the practice formerly known as “News”).

11 Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you based on insufficient evidence (but not necessarily untruth) on CBS or in Newsweek or the New York Times, for they shall provide cover for you by the public feeding frenzy they shall incite on cable TV and in the newsrooms owned and operated by great corporations, allowing you to obscure the necessary evil you do for my sake.

12 Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in Washington and on Fox News: for so persecuted they the demagogues which were before you.

Tuesday, May 24, 2005

ramblins of buddy don: tid bits

aint hardly gut no time fer bloggin today on a counta i finely slept till 4 am, witch thats my goal ever mornin only lately i aint been able to make it past 2:45 at the latest. this mornin i opend my eyes n checked the clock n wuz it ever a sprize to see twuz alreddy 4:15! i been needin the sleep, so i aint bellyachin bout it.

corse, i gut to cook my erbs everday, witch that takes a good two hours, so i jes now gut em dun n tiz past 6:30, the bbc is dun off, my shower is dun tuck, n i aint a'gone make the 6:33 bus to man hattan, witch mayhap i kin git the 6:48 or even the 7:00.

tiz my fervent hope that them erbs is heppin to make me well sos i wont miss no more wurk on a counta havin migraines, witch i dun missd a lil over 17 days this year! i been wurkin my lil tail off to make it up to em even tho my cumpny dont count sick days (i do!).

so mayhap tiz a hopeful sine how this statistick has changed: fer the past cuple years, i been weighin myself ever mornin jes after movin my bowels n jes befor takin my shower. durin all that time, my weight has varied twixt a hi of 164 n a low of 152. durin them vomitin episodes, i have lost as much as 8 pounds durin one day, witch quick as i kin drank water agin, i git mos of that weight back.

but since i had them sweats after frank butler putt me back on them ole fashion erbs, my weight has been no higher than 154.4 n no lower than 153.2. so in sted of varyin as much as 12 pounds frum hi to low, it has been varyin only a spread of 1.2 pounds.

taint lack i changed nuthin in the way i eat, witch i dont eat innythang that has eyelids whenever tiz alive (no beef, turkey, pork, lamb, goat, chicken, pheasant, goose, duck, frogs, dogs, cats, pigeons, mice, rats, etc.) but mosly vegtabulls n fish now n then. aint never been a big fan of deesert. n ceptn when im havin migraines, i take a drank of scotch or tennessee whisky ever day but never moren two shots wurth (lessn we go to a tastin, witch tiz hard to say how much ye git then, but i aint been drunk since 1999 when i let a feller frum spain cunvints me n miz bd that sangria wuz jes the thang to drank after a cuple bottles of wine twixt four folks).

so i lack to thank this change of metabolisum tiz a good thang.

speakin of good thangs, how bout this? did ye ever see innythang so purty that wuz made outta glass?

or this frum john prine?

or this frum the boss?

or had ye herd bout talisker cummin out with a 18 year ole eggspreshun? me n miz bd broke the seal on a bottle over the weekend n we kin testify to how tiz truly deeliteful, mayhap even bettern the 10 year ole.

n miz bd had sum real good news fer me whenever i gut home last nite, witch i promissd not to tell nobidy bout it fer a few days. no, she aint eggspecktin! watch this here space fer more news.

oh n dont let me fergit to say thanks to john norris brown fer puttin together a fine volunteer tailgate party! he volunteerd to doot! aint that jes lack tiz spozed to be?

so have a grate day!

Monday, May 23, 2005

life of buddy don, chaptur 136: teachin or taught?

once i gut into the swang of thangs at kc, i luved my job n felt lack i wuz doon the worl sum good. i had been a’studyin teachin my hole life much moren i real eyesed on a counta seem lack ever teacher i had wuz showin me sumthin that eethur wurked or dint. i wuz eager to try out sum of my idees. i wuz eggcited bout whut a grate teacher i wuz a’gone be. corse, i had lots to larn my ownself.

furst thang i wonted to do wuz make shore my students wonted to cum to class, that they wuz havin fun. fack is, i bleeved then (and bleeve now) that play is a verr importunt part of larnin. ifn ye watch them natchur shows on tv ye see how jes bout ever new generayshun of animulls finds out how to survive by playin. fack is, thats part of whut makes em so cute. ye see them lil lions or tigers or house cats or dogs or bears or mos inny mammal a’playin n larnin how to survive in a hard worl. frum all that play, they larn whut wurks so they gut it down by time they need it when it cums time to eat or be eaten.

i tuck that mane idee into the classroom n tride to make shore the process of larnin wuz as much fun as could be. fer eggzample, in that mornin comp 101 class, we had to cover them basick essay forms: compar n contrast, narrayshun, descripshun, process, classificayshun, n argument, jes to menchun to mos obvious of em. fer a collidge freshmun, tiz hard to make such thangs fun. mos students druther take a beatin than have to rite sumthin. quick as ye ast em to git out thar pens n paper, they git to moanin n groanin. i wood ast em did they moan n groan whenever they wuz larnin to play basketball by playin or larn to dance by dancin or larn to ‘conversate’ by ‘conversatin’ or kiss by kissin? that gut a laff n purty soon the papers wuz out n they wuz a’ritin.

nuther thang i dun wuz to brang over a box of used books me n emily had bought up out at the flea market on alcoa hiway n used em as prizes fer the bes thangs writ in class. i wuz always a’lectchurin em on how ye gut to read, how whenever ye read, ye train yer brain in how language wurks n how ye deevelop yer ear fer whuts rite n whuts rong. sumbidy ast did it matter whut they read n i tole em innythang. did that include letters to penthouse magazine? i tole me twuz fine to read innythang n ifn pornogruffy wuz thonly thang they kep ye innerested, then i reckund twuz bettern not readin atall.

they laffed n sed twuz easier to larn thangs by a’watchin tv, but i ast em did they know bout innybidy that had em a job whar they wuz paid fer watchin tv? dint nobidy anser n i sed thay had to face the facks, that they lived in amurka whar ifn ye wonted to be respeckted, ye had to be able to read n rite standurd english. that led to a lil discushun bout how standurd english wuz white english n sum of em wuz mad bout it. they sed twuznt fair fer it to be thataway. seem lack they wonted me to add mitt how they dint need to larn it, but i dint bite. i dint even add mitt standurd english wuz white english, witch thats why everbidy hates takin english class.

in sted, i tole em that everbidy speaks moren one form of english. i tole em bout how my fambly wuz a big fambly of talkers n story tellers n how one thang that gut me wuz how whenever they tole a story, they wood use hillbilly. even my granddaddy that wuz the judge of morgan county n could speak good english jes fine wood speak hillbilly whenever he wuz a’tellin a story. i tole em how fer me thay wudnt no better way to tell a story, that ye could hear the musick in the langwage.

they laffed when i spoke a bit of hillbilly to em n then they laffed even harder whenever i tride to speak lack they dun. but i ast em did they thank i wood be respeckted ifn i wuz to take my standurd english n go over to thar side of town to visit a friend a’talkin lack a collidge perfesser, witch i tole em to magine i had a black friend that i wood visit n that near lost the class while they talked bout how wudnt no white man a’gone visit no black man at his house, not in deetroit! not on the south side of chicago! not in east st louis! not in harlem! not in dc! i had to add mitt how thay wudnt minny a white man that wood doot, but i wuz thar amung em then, wudnt i?

but i changed the subjeck a lil n ast em ifn they wood be reespeckted ifn they wuz to go home n insist on speakin nuthin but standurd english. that gut a feller name of james coleman to raze his hand n say he wished he could doot as good as i dun n ifn he could he wood doot at home, witch dolores ast him wood he doot out on the corner? they all laffed at that, witch i sed i figgerd the point wuz how we use whutever langwage is appropriate to the time n place.

rite or rong, i tole em, standurd english is cunsidderd rite fer the bizness worl n tiz sumthin that kin be used to hold ye back. that gut em talkin bout how white folks use innythang to hold black folks back, witch i sed ifn twuz true, wood ye let em have it easy by not larnin thar lingo? then i tole em bout the perfesser in west germany who tole us how in 200 years, amurkin english wood be jes lack whut they call black english, how over time a langwage gits simpler n yet more eggspressive. i sed that folks quit a’usin the parts of speech thats obvious. as a eggzample, i sed how in black english ye could say, ‘he ugly,’ n woodnt nobidy miss whut ye meant even ifn twuz proper to say, ‘he is ugly.’ n as fer bein more eggspressive, wudnt thay a differnts twixt ‘he ugly’ n ‘he be ugly’?

thay add mitted twuz so. then dolores ast me to speak sum more hillbilly n i dun it fer a bit, a’tellin em ever langwage kin tell innythang that needs to be tole. they laffed n laffed. i ast em why n they tole me how it made me sound so ignernt. i add mitted it n sed twuz a sad thang how folks did that. fack is, i sed, folks’ll use it to hold ye back jes lack they wood do to folks speakin black english. thay wuz quite fer a bit after that. i tole em i dint have no choice but to larn standurd english since dint nobidy give hillbilly no respeck. but i bleeve ever form of english has gut its place n ever one is verr useful, dont make no never mind ifn tiz black english or standurd english or even hillbilly. they all gut thar own beauty n time n place.

they ast me did i thank sumbidy could rite a hole book in nuthin but hillbilly. i tole em i figgerd it could be dun but mayhap woodnt nobidy read it. on tuther hand, mayhap twood make the readers hear the musick in the langwage n fer all i knew ye could tell yer hole life story in hillbilly n have folks read it frum start to finish n even wish thay wuz more n even wonta speak hillbilly thar ownself. that gut everbidy to laffin n they sed they wood shore lack to see sumbidy try such a thang. did i speck em to bleeve folks wood really read such a thang? i ast em had inny of em read the color purple by alice walker n that shut em up purty quick. i tuck it out of my pack n read jes a page or two n ye mite could thank i had pulled a rabbit outta my back pack frum the sprize it give sum of em.

james coleman ast me wuz that book in the box of prizes? i sed twuznt yet, but thay wuz otherns jes as good. fack wuz, whenever sumbidy won the opshun of gittin a book, i wood announce the winner tords the end of the class n that person wood git to walk up in frunt of everbidy n pick thru the books till they found the one they wonted n they figgerd twuz jes fer the glory of bein up in frunt of the class, but after i had read that, seem lack they tride harder to win n whenever james coleman won he picked out richard wrights black boy n held it up n sed did innybidy ever here of a black man ritin a book name of black boy? thang bout james wuz how he dint hardly know whut a sentence wuz whenever he started that class, but he wurked hard as could be till he larnt to rite n pass the class.

i wuz jes full of idees bout teachin n seem lack thay wuznt class a nuff to try em all. fer instunts, i gut a idee bout how to git em to rite a narrashun paper that gut em all to talkin n turnt out i larnt as much as they dun. twuz rite near thanksgivin. i had me a ole pair of overhauls i had bought at the flea market in clinton, witch twuz blue n coverd ye frum head to toe jes bout. fack is, twuz jes lack them they wore out at union carbide n i speck sumbidy had borried it n never brung it back. i give $3 fer it but hadnt never had a chants to wear it till i gut this idee.

whenever the mornin cum fer me to use my idee, i gut up n putt on my bes suit with a white shirt n tie n everthang ceptn thonly shoes i had wuz them beat up clodhoppers i had been a’wearin since mama bought em fer me rite befor we went to west germany. after gittin all dressed in that suit n tie, i putt on them overhauls n gut that witches mask that cuverd my hole head into my back pack n walked on over to campus.

once i gut thar n tuck the role, i tole my class i wood be rite back. i sed that whenever i cum back, i wood be a guest they had brung to thar house fer thanksgivin. they wuz to watch everthang i dun n deescribe jes whut happend. then i went out into the hall n pulled on them overhauls n putt on that mask n went back in. whut a sensayshun that created! they wuz a’laffin n carryin on lack nuthin ye never seen. i had dun splaind bout how they wuz to rite a in-class essay, so when they dint do nuthin but laff fer a bit, i rote up n the board sumthin bout how they had 45 mints lef. bout then dolores g miller cum in rite bout then, witch that made everbidy laff n that made jerome mad to whar he tole em ifn they dint shut up n rite, he wood shut em up. i give im a thumbs up n they gut started.

generly i walked round the class n made shore everbidy wuz a’ritin, but this time i stood up thar actin lack i dint hardly know whut to do. that mask wood make ye itch n easiest way to scratch wuz by usin the air holes in the nose, witch that made it look lack ye wuz pickin yer nose. i knew that wuz good fer a laff n sumthin to deescribe, so i dun a bit of that n by time the laffs died down, they wuz all jes a’scribblin away, ritin fer a bit n then lookin at me.

so happend that class wuz also the practiss room fer the choir, witch that meant it had a grand peeano rite in the middle of it. i had jes been larnin a chopin walz, so after they had been a’ritin fer a bit, i went over to that peeano n played it. wuz they ever sprized! they dint have no idee i could play the peeano n even tho i wudnt much good, i could play it thru mosly n i dun jes that. then i gut up n went to the frunt of the class n tuck off them overhauls n purty soon they wuz a’hollerin out bout whut a fine suit i wuz a’wearin, witch thang wuz that suit had gone outta style durin the seventies whenever leeshure suits cum in but now twuz rite thar in the hart of fashun.

whut a bunch of essays i gut frum that! twuz funny how i wuz a’hopin to make thangs fun fer the class but ended up makin em fun fer me too on a counta them essays wudnt nuthin but fun to read. but whut sprized me mos wuz how i hadnt speckted whut them students wuz a’gone see:
  • near everbidy talked bout how sprized thar fambly wuz over them a’brangin a white man with long strangy hair home fer thanksgivin. i hadnt hardly thunk bout race whenever i set up the scene, but twuz the furst thang menchuned on near ever essay writ.

  • near everbidy talked bout how twuz odd to have a homeless white man home fer dinner but sed how thar mamas had always tole em how innybidy that wuz hungry wuz wellcum fer dinner in thar home.

  • near everbidy wuz struck by how the homeless white man couldnt talk, witch i dint mean fer that to be part of it, but truth is i never sed a wurd once i gut the costume on.

  • near everbidy sed twuz the hi point of that thanksgivin whenever that deaf n dumb homeless white man turnt out to play the peeano fer em n bout half of em menchuned whar jesus sed that when ye treat a pore stranger with kindness ye mite be entertainin a angel without a’knowin it.

  • sevrul of em sed twuz a murkle frum god that a deaf n dumb homeless white man could play the peeano, witch they writ how ye woodnt thank a deaf person could do that on a counta how kin ye larn to play peeano ifn ye caint hear nuthin?

  • near everbidy wuz struck by the change whenever i tuck them overhauls off, but whut gut em mos wuz how twuz jes whut ye mite speck frum a white man to be all dressed up n still a’wearin a pair of ole dusty boots that orta dun been throwd out years ago.
sevrul of em writ how twuz jes as importunt to wear the rite cloze as twuz to speak the rite form of english. did i wont respeck frum that class? did i wont respeck at knoxvull collidge? did i even know whar i wuz? ye dint cum into no house all dressed up in a suit n tie but a'wearin a pair of dusty ole boots. twernt proper. ye had to dress the part ifn ye wonted respeck n ifn ye dint, twuz a way of showin disrespeck to them ye wuz a'visitin.

i had to add mitt how that stung me purty good. i tole emily bout it n even tho we had a fuss n fite all they way over to millers on henley street, i went over n bought me a pair of shoes. after that, i gut to lookin more keerful lack at whut folks wuz a’wearin on campus n seen how i stuck out lack a hillbilly in deetroit. i hadnt never figgerd twuz a form of disrespeck. i figgerd twuz jes bein myself. but i wuz rong n ever after that, i real eyesed i had a lot to larn, even ifn i wuz the perfesser.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

hopes of buddy don: rainbows over man hattan

i been down bout the state of the worl lately. it sickens me to read bout the torchur dun in our name in afghanistan n iraq n gitmo n all, but yesterdy me n miz bd got caught in a hard rain shower to whar we wuz soaked to the skin, witch lucky fer me n miz bd we gut waterproof skin fer our furst birthdy.

then whenever we looked over at man hattan, we seen how thay wuz a rainbow thar, witch after the flood twuz gods sine to the worl that he wuz still in cuntrol n keerin fer us. i lack to thank twuz the same thang agin.

tho ye caint do justust with a pitcher to sumthin as big as a rainbow frum midtown down to whar them towers used to be, miz bd tride to ketch that thar rainbow, startin with one oer midtown:



then thays tuther half over downtown:



finely, she tride to git a close up of it:


Saturday, May 21, 2005

pinions of buddy don: losin harts n minds

we aint figgered out how to win the harts n minds of them folks we need to cunvints that we are the good guys. ifn we caint do that n sum of em gits democrussy, aint no doubt they a'gone vote us out of vote agin whut we stand fer. but we have figgerd out how not to doot.
  • see that thar articull ye orta not read frum yesterdys post.

  • ignore whut ye dun add mitted wuz true sos ye kin attack the press in sted, lack the washington post splains this mornin in thar editorial bout that newsweek thang:
    The Bush administration's first response was equally straightforward. The chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Gen. Richard B. Myers, told reporters last week that the U.S. commander in Afghanistan believed the violence "was not at all tied to the article in the magazine." Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice pledged that "appropriate action" would be taken if the allegations proved true. But then the administration's spinners, led by Pentagon and White House spokesmen, took over. The result has been a cynical campaign to capitalize politically while deflecting attention from serious issues.
    [emphasis by buddy don]
  • ignore how them folks that wuz putt into gitmo on suspishun but then turnt out to be innocent mite tell on ye, witch this articull in todays new york times writ by Somini Sengupta n Salman Masood name of Guantánamo Comes to Define U.S. to Muslims:
    Accounts of abuses at the actual American detention center at Guantánamo Bay, including Newsweek magazine's now-retracted article on the desecration of the Koran, ricochet around the world, instilling ideas about American power and justice, and sowing distrust of the United States. Even more than the written accounts are the images that flash on television screens throughout the Muslim world: caged men, in orange prison jumpsuits, on their knees. On Al Jazeera and Al Arabiya, two satellite networks, images of the prisoners appear in station promos.

    For many Muslims, Guantánamo stands as a confirmation of the low regard in which they believe the United States holds them. For many non-Muslims, regardless of their feelings toward the United States, it has emerged as a symbol of American hypocrisy.

    "The cages, the orange suits, the shackles - it's as if they're dealing with something that's like a germ they don't want to touch," said Daoud Kuttab, director of the Institute of Modern Media at Al Quds University in Ramallah, in the West Bank. "That's the nastiness of it."

    The Bush administration's response to the Newsweek article - a general condemnation of prison abuses, coupled with an attack on the magazine - apparently did little to allay the concerns of many Muslims. Then on Thursday, the International Committee of the Red Cross issued a report detailing the many complaints from detainees at Guantánamo about desecrations of the Koran between early 2002 and mid-2003.

    In India, a secular country by law whose people and government are growing increasingly close to the United States, a cartoon appeared in Midday, an afternoon tabloid, on Friday showing a panic-stricken Uncle Sam flushing copies of Newsweek magazine down a toilet.

    To the cartoonist, Hemant Morparia, it appeared as though the Bush administration's answer to the problem was to bury the truth.
kin sumbidy git a retrackshun of gitmo? kin they retrack the torchur in afghanistan? in iraq? at gitmo? kin we win thar harts n minds by gittin folks to quit publishin whut the folks that hate us alreddy know?

Friday, May 20, 2005

pinions of buddy don: dont read that thar articull! jes dont!

i wonted to wurk on a chaptur this mornin, but thays that habit thang i lack to say:
habits: easy to make, hard to brake; goodns make ye, badns brake ye.
since my habit of takin a look at the new york times ever mornin aint broke, i ended up readin the mane articull on the frunt page, witch it made me so mad i wonted to cry.

ifn ye wonta bleeve the war on terr is a war twixt good (us'ns) n evil (them), then dont ye read that thar articull!

but ifn ye aint inclined to take that add vice, lemme warn ye a bit better. furst, the name of that thar articull ye dont wonta read is In U.S. Report, Brutal Details of 2 Afghan Inmates' Deaths, witch ye gut to register to read it n mayhap ye aint dun that (tiz free, but doon it mite keep ye frum bein tempted to read that thar articull).

twuz writ by a feller name of tim golden, witch ifn ye look at that list of whut he has dun writ, ye kin see he covers thangs mos folks probly wish wuznt true.

ifn ye wonta bleev sum them thangs ye dont wonta bleev aint true, then dont read that thar articull!

but ifn ye aint cunvints yet, heres a long quote frum the beginnin n end of the articull, startin with the beginnin:
Even as the young Afghan man was dying before them, his American jailers continued to torment him.

The prisoner, a slight, 22-year-old taxi driver known only as Dilawar, was hauled from his cell at the detention center in Bagram, Afghanistan, at around 2 a.m. to answer questions about a rocket attack on an American base. When he arrived in the interrogation room, an interpreter who was present said, his legs were bouncing uncontrollably in the plastic chair and his hands were numb. He had been chained by the wrists to the top of his cell for much of the previous four days.

Mr. Dilawar asked for a drink of water, and one of the two interrogators, Specialist Joshua R. Claus, 21, picked up a large plastic bottle. But first he punched a hole in the bottom, the interpreter said, so as the prisoner fumbled weakly with the cap, the water poured out over his orange prison scrubs. The soldier then grabbed the bottle back and began squirting the water forcefully into Mr. Dilawar's face.

"Come on, drink!" the interpreter said Specialist Claus had shouted, as the prisoner gagged on the spray. "Drink!"

At the interrogators' behest, a guard tried to force the young man to his knees. But his legs, which had been pummeled by guards for several days, could no longer bend. An interrogator told Mr. Dilawar that he could see a doctor after they finished with him. When he was finally sent back to his cell, though, the guards were instructed only to chain the prisoner back to the ceiling.

"Leave him up," one of the guards quoted Specialist Claus as saying.

Several hours passed before an emergency room doctor finally saw Mr. Dilawar. By then he was dead, his body beginning to stiffen. It would be many months before Army investigators learned a final horrific detail: Most of the interrogators had believed Mr. Dilawar was an innocent man who simply drove his taxi past the American base at the wrong time.

The story of Mr. Dilawar's brutal death at the Bagram Collection Point - and that of another detainee, Habibullah, who died there six days earlier in December 2002 - emerge from a nearly 2,000-page confidential file of the Army's criminal investigation into the case, a copy of which was obtained by The New York Times.
i reckun ye kin see that this aint the kinda thang ye wonta thank our folks is a'doon over thar, so dont read that thar articull, speshly not to the end.

are ye payin attenchun yet? i tole ye not to read that thar articull! speshly not to the verr end, whar ye wood read this:
In February, an American military official disclosed that the Afghan guerrilla commander whose men had arrested Mr. Dilawar and his passengers had himself been detained. The commander, Jan Baz Khan, was suspected of attacking Camp Salerno himself and then turning over innocent "suspects" to the Americans in a ploy to win their trust, the military official said.

The three passengers in Mr. Dilawar's taxi were sent home from Guantánamo in March 2004, 15 months after their capture, with letters saying they posed "no threat" to American forces.

They were later visited by Mr. Dilawar's parents, who begged them to explain what had happened to their son. But the men said they could not bring themselves to recount the details.

"I told them he had a bed," said Mr. Parkhudin. "I said the Americans were very nice because he had a heart problem."

In late August of last year, shortly before the Army completed its inquiry into the deaths, Sergeant Yonushonis, who was stationed in Germany, went at his own initiative to see an agent of the Criminal Investigation Command. Until then, he had never been interviewed.

"I expected to be contacted at some point by investigators in this case," he said. "I was living a few doors down from the interrogation room, and I had been one of the last to see this detainee alive."

Sergeant Yonushonis described what he had witnessed of the detainee's last interrogation. "I remember being so mad that I had trouble speaking," he said.

He also added a detail that had been overlooked in the investigative file. By the time Mr. Dilawar was taken into his final interrogations, he said, "most of us were convinced that the detainee was innocent."
have ye gut the point? ye dont wonta read that thar articull, do ye? ye wonta sleep peaceful, thankin how we mus be on gods side, how thonly reason muslims mite be upset with amurka is how newsweek dint git its story strate. tiz easier to bleev that than to read bout this awful stuff bein reported bout us.

corse, ifn ye aint lisnin n go ahead n read that thar articull, witch here is whar ye go not to read it, then ye gut nobidy but yer ownself to blame on a counta how im a'tellin ye now the middle part of that thar articull is much wurser than the parts i dun quoted.

why dont ye go to the la times n read bout how brave mr bush lacks to make shore hes gut a good audients of folks that needs to here him splain why privatizin soshul securty is the mos importunt issue of the day. lease that articull mite give ye sumthin to smile about.

Thursday, May 19, 2005

quick note of buddy don: trine to git the nex chaptur writ

i spent mos of this mornin trine to rite the nex chaptur of life n pinions of buddy don, hillbilly. i also gut to give my son a call so he kin ast me whut to do bout a lil wurk problem hes been a'havin with one of the folks he manages. that dont hardly give me no time to blog.

i did wonta take this moment to thank my reglar readers fer stickin with me: tennessee jed, red molly, deb, bitterman, omni. sumtimes bloggin is lack droppin a rose petal into the grand canyon, witch thats whut they say in publishin when sumbidy cums out with a book of poetry. as ye mite magine, that aint much echo frum doon the rose petal.

but in my case, i gut to count them blessins on a counta them folks i jes menchuned. all but one of em have blogs of thar own, witch ye mite wonta drop by sum time:
  • red mollys blog is blue page speshul.
  • bittermans site is knowd as the smoking toaster, witch tiz ackshly 'the office for world domination presents the smoking toaster.com ... the internet's only weasel powered weblog.'
  • omni's site is verr intriguin, witch she calls it omniverse or every topic in the universe -- i wish it had a way to make comments!
  • finely, deb has sugarfused, witch i been a'readin thatn fer a cuple years now. she used to rite haiku n i never knew nobidy that could rite em inny better.
i kindly wish i could git tennessee jed to start a blog of his own! hes gut plenty to say, a good way of sayin it, n his own point of view. mayhap sumday he will. ifn he duz, i will be ritin bout it.

so since i aint gut time to blog much, try them blogs i jes menchuned. ye wont be sorry!

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

ramblins of buddy don: this n that

frum the aint necessarly so file, heres a few stories that go agin whut folks lacks to bleeve. fer instunts, ye mite could thank thonly reason innybidy wood kill thar self in a bombin ('suicide bomber') is on a counta how they bleeve thar a'gone git 72 virgins or sumthin. lots of folks druther cum to thar conclushun n then bleeve whut they wonta bleeve in sted of lookin at the evidents n then cummin to a conclushun. taint so fer this here robert a. pape feller, witch he did a study of all the suicide bombins frum 1980 to 2003 n writ a story bout it in the new york times name of Blowing up an Assumption. ye orta read the hole thang, but heres sum points he makes in that thar articull:
  • Over the past two years, I have compiled a database of every suicide bombing and attack around the globe from 1980 through 2003 - 315 in all. This includes every episode in which at least one terrorist killed himself or herself while trying to kill others, but excludes attacks authorized by a national government (like those by North Korean agents against South Korea). The data show that there is far less of a connection between suicide terrorism and religious fundamentalism than most people think.

  • First, nearly all suicide terrorist attacks - 301 of the 315 in the period I studied - took place as part of organized political or military campaigns. Second, democracies are uniquely vulnerable to suicide terrorists; America, France, India, Israel, Russia, Sri Lanka and Turkey have been the targets of almost every suicide attack of the past two decades. Third, suicide terrorist campaigns are directed toward a strategic objective: from Lebanon to Israel to Sri Lanka to Kashmir to Chechnya, the sponsors of every campaign - 18 organizations in all - are seeking to establish or maintain political self-determination.

  • Some have wondered if the rise of suicide terrorism in Iraq is really such a bad thing for American security. Is it not better to have these killers far away in Iraq rather than here in the United States? Alas, history shows otherwise. The presence of tens of thousands of American combat forces on the Arabian Peninsula after 1990 enabled Al Qaeda to recruit suicide terrorists, who in turn attacked Americans in the region (the African embassy bombings in 1998 and the attack on the destroyer Cole in 2000). The presence of nearly 150,000 American combat troops in Iraq since 2003 can only give suicide terrorism a boost, and the longer this suicide terrorist campaign continues the greater the risk of new attacks in the United States.
nuther thang ye mite not speck is how mayhap them ceos is the ones to lead the charge to git sangle-payer health care in this cuntry. thats the point matt miller makes on the same page of the new york times today in a articull name of Waiting for C.E.O.'s to Go 'Nuclear'. agin, tiz wurth readin (even ifn ye half to register n ye orta doot whilst ye kin doot fer free since thar a'gone charge fer this page purty soon), but heres sum points he makes, startin with his idee of how to git the movement goin:
  • Here's my version of the script: A dozen marquee C.E.O.'s would convene a "Manhattan Project"-style effort on the future of health care. They'd propose a new goal: instead of health costs rising from today's 15 percent of G.D.P. to 20 percent by around 2020, as is now projected, the nation should shave two to three percentage points of G.D.P. (or more) off projected growth in ways that improve quality, even as we extend coverage to the 45 million uninsured.

  • We spend 15 percent of G.D.P. on health. Other rich nations spend 10 percent or less, but they manage to insure everyone - and have equal or better public health outcomes. And we have huge variations in practice patterns and medical spending that bear no relation to quality. Bottom line: radical inefficiency.

  • Our C.E.O.'s would add that a new health strategy would get excess costs off businesses' backs - costs that competitors don't face in countries where governments pick up the tab. It would re-engineer the delivery of care so governments would have cash left for other purposes. And it would cope with the political reality that every dollar of health care "waste" is somebody's dollar of income.
in case ye thank thangs is a'goin jes fine on a counta how them publicans has been a'claimin they kin cut the budget deficit in half by 2009 (meanin half of whut they projected the deficit wood be, not whut twuz, givin tharself a good 100 billion dollars in wiggle room), witch thar a'doon it by increasin it this year, but mayhap they kin git on it nex year of sumthin.

innywho, thays folks on bof the lef n rite thats a'gittin wurried on a counta how we mite end up lack argentina, meanin thonly thang we wood be able to pay fer is the inerst on the nashunul debt. kin ye pitcher the event whar ye gut folks frum the rite wing heritage foundayshun (stuart butler) n the lef wing brookins institushun (isabell sawhill) meetin with comptroller genrull david m. walker to talk bout the same thang n agreein more often than not? accordin to dana milbank of the washington post it happend n he writ a articull name of Almost Unnoticed, Bipartisan Budget Anxiety to proov it. heres sum points frum the articull:
  • With startling unanimity, they agreed that without some combination of big tax increases and major cuts in Medicare, Social Security and most other spending, the country will fall victim to the huge debt and soaring interest rates that collapsed Argentina's economy and caused riots in its streets a few years ago.

    "The only thing the United States is able to do a little after 2040 is pay interest on massive and growing federal debt," Walker said. "The model blows up in the mid-2040s. What does that mean? Argentina."

  • Walker put U.S. debt and obligations at $45 trillion in current dollars -- almost as much as the total net worth of all Americans, or $150,000 per person. Balancing the budget in 2040, he said, could require cutting total federal spending as much as 60 percent or raising taxes to 2 1/2 times today's levels.

  • Butler pointed out that without changes to Social Security and Medicare, in 25 years either a quarter of discretionary spending would need to be cut or U.S. tax rates would have to approach European levels. Putting it slightly differently, Sawhill posed a choice of 10 percent cuts in spending and much larger cuts in Social Security and Medicare, or a 40 percent increase in government spending relative to the size of the economy, and equivalent tax increases.

  • Not surprisingly, the Heritage and Brookings crowds don't agree on an exact solution to the budget problem, but they seem to accept that, as Sawhill put it, "you can't do it with either spending or taxes. Eventually, you're going to need a mix of the two." Butler wants taxes, now at 17 percent of GDP, not to exceed 20 percent. Sawhill prefers 24 or 25 percent.

    But such haggling seems premature when both parties still deny the problem. "I don't think we're there yet," Walker said. "The American people have to understand where we are and where we're headed."

    And where is that? "No republic in the history of the world lasted more than 300 years," Walker said. "Eventually, the crunch comes."
    He wasn't talking about filibusters.
finely, ye know how folks thats gut thars alreddy hates ye to menchun class warfare (on a counta ye kin win a war better ifn yer opponents dont bleeve the war is a'gone on). in todays boston globe, derrick z. jackson splains how tiz a'gone in a articull name of A steeper ladder for the have-nots . tiz always bes to read the hole thang, but heres sum of the points he makes:
  • The [Wall Street] Journal reported last Friday, "Despite the widespread belief that the US remains a more mobile society than Europe, economists and sociologists say that in recent decades the typical child starting out in poverty in continental Europe or in Canada has had a better chance at prosperity."

    In an echo, the Times wrote virtually the same thing, adding that in America, a child's economic background is a better predictor of school performance than in Denmark, the Netherlands, or France. The best that could be said was that class mobility in the United States is ''not as low as in developing countries like Brazil, where escape from poverty is so difficult that the lower class is all but frozen in place."

  • In 1973, the ratio of CEO pay to worker pay was 43 to 1. By 1992, it was 145 to 1. By 1997, it was 326 to 1. By 2000, it hit a sky-high 531 to 1. The post 9/11 shakeouts and corporate scandals of recent years on the surface narrowed the gap back to 301 to 1 in 2003. But a much worse parallel global gap is emerging in the era of outsourcing. United for a Fair Economy published a report last summer that found CEOs of the top US outsourcing companies made 1,300 times more than their computer programmers in India and 3,300 more than Indian call-center employees.

    Such groups say if the minimum wage kept up with the rise in CEO pay, it would be $15.76 an hour instead of its current $5.15. Looking at it another way, the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, another often written-off liberal think tank, published a report last month that in the last three years, the share of US national income that goes toward corporate profits is at its highest levels since World War II, while the share of national income that goes to wages and salaries is at a record low.

  • A quarter century of a ''mine, all mine" ethos continues to work for CEOs and the upper class. The rest of America finds the ladder taller and steepening. Much of the nation is now one catastrophic injury away from falling into poverty. It should be a national emergency that stratification in the richest nation in the world has us fading from the relative mobility of Europe and sinking toward the discouragement in developing countries.

    It is no wonder why politicians who protect the wealthy scream ''class warfare" every time someone talks about inequity. It is a diversion to keep those who vote against their own interests from realizing they are victims of friendly fire.
how could we let all this happen? mayhap on a counta how we aint kep verr informd by the fourth estate, witch ye kin read all bout it in this here articull on bill moyers speech to the nashunull confernce fer media reform in st louey name of "A democracy can die of too many lies". tiz too long to make sense without readin the hole thang. so jes go read it. ye wont be sorry. corse, ifn ye aint a sub scriber to salon, ye mite not git the hole thang, so ifn ye ack fast, ye kin git the hole thang at c-span fer free.

i been dreamin bout ifn we still had real jurnlists lack edward r. murrow, witch im a'readin a book bout im name of Edward R. Murrow; An American Original. he wuznt skeerd of nuthin, unlack them folks we have now thats trine to keep thar seat on air force one by playin stenogruffer fer the bushies.

whut skeers me is not havin such real jurnlists innymore.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

treat meant of buddy don: gittin cured?

frank butler is the practishner of tradishunull chinese medicine thats been a'treatin me. he tole me one time that to git rid of them migraines thats been ailin me fer the past six years i wood sweat em outta me.

when he knew i wuz bout to git sick one time, he perscribed sum erbs to make my tempachur go up. he tole me i should drank it hot n eat sumthin lack oatmeal thats still hot n then git under the covers with lots of cloze on, includin a hat n socks. then i wuz spozed to lie under a heap of covers thar till i broke a sweat. he give me five treat meants n i dun whut he sed n broke a sweat maybe three times. but i still gut sick.

after the last time i gut sick (last weekend n mundy n tuesdy), he give me the first erbs i had tuck sos i could git back on track. i tuck em windsdy n went to wurk jes fine. tuck em thursdy n wuz a'goin good till late in the day. then i gut to feelin awful, lack i wuz bout to git sick agin. twuz verr deepressin. as i wuz leavin out fer the day, i run into my irish frien. he sed, 'aw, bud, i hate to see you like that.' i tole im i felt wurser than i looked.

went on home whar i found miz bd had dun cooked a fine dinner of curried vegtubulls n basmati rice that looked so good it coulda cum frum a restrunt. i tuck four or five bites n felt lack i woodnt be able to keep the food down, so i pall gized to miz bd n sed i wuz feelin bad. i lay down fer a mint n she cum to check on me n sed i wuz burnin up. she tuck my tempachur n found twuz near 101.

this same thang had happend the furst time frank give me them erbs, but i figgerd twuz my bad luck to git the flu n we treated it fer that, gittin my fever down n such. whut we dint do wuz try to sweat it out.

but this time, i put on sum more cloze n a hat n gut under the covers. miz bd gut a heatin pad n purty soon, i wuz coverd frum hed to foot n jes a'burnin up. i lay thar fer a cuple hours. whilst i wuz a'doon it, i could smell them erbs. then i broke a big sweat. i cleaned up a bit n went back to bed.

nex day, i dint have no fever n felt fine. since then, thangs has gut much better. i caint hardly wait to see frank to splain to im whut happend, witch i have a pointment fer tomorrow after wurk. i bet he is a'gone be happy bout it. mayhap im gittin cured after all.

thankee one n all fer puttin up with all this bellyachin bout my personull ailments. i hope to git back to tellin tales frum my life n pinions or jes postin sum pinions direckly.

Monday, May 16, 2005

fambly events of buddy don: late but grate mothers day celebrayshun

yesterdy we finely gut round to celebratin mothers day fer miz bd. twuz a magickull event ifn ever thay wuz one. miz bd has been a'studyin thai yoga massage at the new york open center whar her teacher is a feller name of jonas westring, so she had dun offerd everbidy a treat meant.

corse, much as they mite coulda lacked that, she wuz the mane attrackshun. her two kids -- jack n loretta -- n her son-out-laws (as she calls em) vaclav n paddy joined us. miz bd wishes bof em wuz her son-in-laws, but taint her deecishun.

everbidy showed up with lots of cheer n sum presents fer miz bd -- two tickets to see john prine in june, sum choclat coverd cherries, funny cards, n lottery scratch off ticket, witch miz bd sez she dint win on em, but she won the bigger lottery whenever she gut such a fine pair kids n such grate son-out-laws. as luck had it, i gut a call frum my son tony durin the visit, so twuz almos lack we wuz all together even tho tony lives in tennessee.

me n miz bd bought a pre-cooked ham on a counta how all them kids luvs to eat meat n even tho we dont, we lack to sprize em now n agin, longs they take the leftovers home with em. i cooked a feast to go with it: two pies -- a apple pie that i acksidently knocked onto the floor while twuz a'coolin n a peach pie that we ackshly gut to eat -- sum 'school cafeteria macaroni n cheese' (a fambly favert that miz bd taught me how to cook), sum veggie beans with veggie hot dogs in em that wuz so good nobidy could tell they wuznt made outta ackshull meat, sum fresh rye bread n sum sun tea.

we also had bought sum czech beer name of 'czechvar', witch tiz ackshly 'budvar' but thay aint allowd to call it that. twuz a grate beer minny years (cenchuries?) befor thay wuzn inny annhizer bush to ferbid them czechs frum sellin thar beer under the name of 'budweiser.' ifn ye wuz to drank sum czechvar, ye mite could see why folks in the czech republick is insulted by not bein able to use thar name on thar beer n speshly by how terrbull budweiser is cumpard to budvar (sold as 'czechvar').

everbidy ate harty lack n then miz bd gut to givin everbidy septin jack, witch hes too ticklish fer massage. paddys bout twice the size of miz bd, so twuz funny to see her movin him round, witch he lacked it so much he tole her she could practiss on him whenever she wonted to. he made shore she had his cell phone number.

after them massages, we shared sum connemara cask strength whiskey, witch tiz thonly peated irish whiskey n paddy his ownself hadnt never had nun befor. then we walked jack n vaclav to thar car n loretta n paddy to the ferry. by then twuz a beeyootifull nite, so we walked a bit n then cum in.

she wuz verr happy. twuz a bit o'magick fer everbidy.

Saturday, May 14, 2005

pinions of buddy don: early amurkins fleein relijus persecushun

thays lots of talk by them that wonts to make amurka a christchun theocrussy of sum kind bout how them foundin fathers wuz christchun. ye could spend a career in ackademe fitin bout that without proovin nuthin to everbidys satisfackshun. but we kin document sum thangs bout the early europeons who cum here (n whut they wuz runnin frum) purty easly:
  • them purtans:
    The Puritans were a group of people who grew discontent in the Church of England and worked towards religious, moral and societal reforms. The writings and ideas of John Calvin, a leader in the Reformation, gave rise to Protestantism and were pivotal to the Christian revolt. They contended that The Church of England had become a product of political struggles and man-made doctrines. The Puritans were one branch of dissenters who decided that the Church of England was beyond reform. Escaping persecution from church leadership and the King, they came to America.

  • them cathlicks (with a bit more bout persecutin them purtans):
    The concept of religious persecution was not a new one to England, Queen Elizabeth reestablished the Protestant religion in England. In 1559, Cranmer's [revised] Book of Common Prayer became the law of English liturgy. The mass was outlawed, and Englishmen were compelled to attend the Anglican Church or pay a shilling. Catholics were forbidden to even hold Catholic literature. The government ordered the destruction of religious images in churches. In 1581, Parliament passed a law that conversion to Catholicism would be punished as high treason. Over 100 priests and 60 laymen were executed during the reign of Queen Elizabeth.

    English persecution under the reign of Elizabeth, however, did not confine itself solely to the Catholics. The Puritans also felt the heavy hand of the state. John Whitgift, her minister in the Canterbury see, subjected Puritan preachers who refused to support the state religion to such intense religious inquiry that it was compared to the worst stories told about the Spanish Inquisition.

  • them quakers:
    The Society of Friends may be traced to the many Protestant bodies that appeared in Europe during the Reformation. These groups, stressing an individual approach to religion, strict discipline, and the rejection of an authoritarian church, formed one expression of the religious temper of 17th-century England. Many doctrines of the Society of Friends were taken from those of earlier religious groups, particularly those of the Anabaptists and Independents, who believed in lay leadership, independent congregations, and complete separation of church and state. The society, however, unlike many of its predecessors, did not begin as a formal religious organization. Originally, the Friends were the followers of George Fox, an English lay preacher who, about 1647, began to preach the doctrine of "Christ within"; this concept later developed as the idea of the "inner light." Although Fox did not intend to establish a separate religious body, his followers soon began to group together into the semblance of an organization, calling themselves by such names as Children of Light, Friends of Truth, and, eventually, Society of Friends. In reference to their agitated movements before moments of divine revelation, they were popularly called Quakers. The first complete exposition of the doctrine of "inner light" was written by the Scottish Quaker Robert Barclay in An Apology for the True Christian Divinity, as the Same Is Held Forth and Preached by the People Called in Scorn Quakers (1678), considered the greatest Quaker theological work.

    The Friends were persecuted from the time of their inception as a group. They interpreted the words of Christ in the Scriptures literally, particularly, "Do not swear at all" (Matthew 5:34), and "Do not resist one who is evil" (Matthew 5:39). They refused, therefore, to take oaths; they preached against war, even to resist attack; and they often found it necessary to oppose the authority of church or state. Because they rejected any organized church, they would not pay tithes to the Church of England. Moreover, they met publicly for worship, a contravention of the Conventicle Act of 1664, which forbade meetings for worship other than that of the Church of England. Nevertheless, thousands of people, some on the continent of Europe and in America as well as in the British Isles, were attracted by teachings of the Friends.

    Friends began to immigrate to the American colonies in the 1660s. They settled particularly in New Jersey, where they purchased land in 1674, and in the Pennsylvania colony, which was granted to William Penn in 1681. By 1684, approximately 7000 Friends had settled in Pennsylvania. By the early 18th century, Quaker meetings were being held in every colony except Connecticut and South Carolina. The Quakers were at first continuously persecuted, especially in Massachusetts, but not in Rhode Island, which had been founded in a spirit of religious toleration. Later, they became prominent in colonial life, particularly in Pennsylvania and Rhode Island. During the 18th century the American Friends were pioneers in social reform; they were friends of the Native Americans, and as early as 1688 some protested officially against slavery in the colonies. By 1787 no member of the society was a slave owner. Many of the Quakers who had immigrated to southern colonies joined the westward migrations into the Northwest Territory because they would not live in a slave-owning society.

  • them baptists:
    John James was a Seventh Day Baptist Elder in London. He was tried and sentenced, executed, burned and quartered for allegedly preaching sedition by the Government. He was accused of being an alleged member of the Fifth Monarchy Men. There was little factual evidence to convict. He was martyred as an example for others. His head was placed on a pole/pike in Whitechapel (London) near his congregation.

    There are indications of both Seventh Day General Baptists, and Seventh Day Particular Baptists congregations existing during this period. Seventh Day Baptist congregations survived the Restoration(1660), and many of these prospered in the New World.

    All Baptist groups faced some form of persecution after the Restoration (1660) and were watched. Lingering Anabaptist connections persisted, and their earlier associations with former radical sects, and a few fire brands among the faithful added to their radical reputation to the Crown.

  • them presbyteryuns:
    The English church at the time was Episcopalian and the Scottish settlers were Presbyterian. The Presbyterians believed in allegiance to God only and to God directly. Charles I, who was King from 1625-1649, persecuted these Presbyterians who maintained their independence and refused to convert to Episcopalianism. The native Irish who were Roman Catholic, also were opposed to these influx of "outsiders" and in 1641 they massacred many of these Scotch-Irish until Scotland ,who had maintained an interest in their sons and daughters who had moved west to Ireland, sent 10,000 troops to retake the area. Charles II, who was King from 1660-1685, continued the persecution of the Presbyterians. When the Roman Catholic James II, who succeeded his brother Charles II, was dethroned in the Glorious Revolution of 1688 and succeeded by the protestant William of Orange the Presbyterian persecutions were no longer a problem. These Scotch Presbyterians endured many hardships and persecutions, but they held stubornly to their protestant ways and they never ceased to fight for their rights and their beliefs including the belief in a government by democracy as was the very structure of their church.

  • them christchuns of whutever brand:
    The religious persecution that drove settlers from Europe to the British North American colonies sprang from the conviction, held by Protestants and Catholics alike, that uniformity of religion must exist in any given society. This conviction rested on the belief that there was one true religion and that it was the duty of the civil authorities to impose it, forcibly if necessary, in the interest of saving the souls of all citizens. Nonconformists could expect no mercy and might be executed as heretics. The dominance of the concept, denounced by Roger Williams as "inforced uniformity of religion," meant majority religious groups who controlled political power punished dissenters in their midst. In some areas Catholics persecuted Protestants, in others Protestants persecuted Catholics, and in still others Catholics and Protestants persecuted wayward coreligionists. Although England renounced religious persecution in 1689, it persisted on the European continent. Religious persecution, as observers in every century have commented, is often bloody and implacable and is remembered and resented for generations.
mayhap ye kin see why them foundin fathers dint bleev gummint should establish a gummint relijun, witch ye kin read bout it in that furst amendment:
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
tiz a fack that minny of them foundin fathers wuz christchun. tiz also a fack that minny of em wuz deists n most of em were influenced by the enlightenment.

but my mane point is how them that wonted freedum to practiss thar own relijun how they wonted to practiss it wuz reacktin to persecushun of christchuns by christchuns. do we wonta git back to that? fer eggzample, ifn the cultchur of life folks -- witch that means no aborshuns or youthinasia but plenty of eggzecushns n invashuns n droppin of bombs n makin of nuckular weppons n colatterull damage n such other forms of killin -- ifn they wuz in charge, wood they force jehovahs witnesses to take blood transfushuns or pledge allegunts to the flag or fite in wars? will they force despertly ill christchun scientists to ackcept medicull keer?

corse, that dont even git into bleefs of others such as native amurkins, hindus, buddhists, wiccans, zorastrians, pagans, muslims, jews n a world of other relijuns that dont agree with everthang a particlar christchun partisan group mite bleeve -- wood they be allowed to practiss thar relijun the way they wont to?

tiz my bleef that these folks trine to force thar views on the rest of us orta spend a lil more time wurkin on gittin the beam outta thar own eye before they git to inspecktin mine fer a mote!

Friday, May 13, 2005

tackticks of buddy don: lucky brakes

[note frum bd: a nuther reason blogger makes me crazy is this. i writ the post below a'usin colors, witch they show in color in the prevue but not when posted. tiz verr annoyin. duz the bolded thangs cum out in color fer ye? or jes in bold black? tiz verr annoyin. innywho, magin that the wurd 'volunteer' cum out in orange n the daily agenda in blue n the daily ($1) dollar in green n so furth.

but wiat, thars more garbage frum blogger. when i publishd this, half of it jes disapeard. lucky fer me, miz bd hadnt reloded her page, witch when she copied the post into a email, them color cum out. is thar wurser bloggin software than blogger? twood be hard to bleeve thar could be.]

i writ yesterdy bout how i had sum verr good luck with my job that led to a form of motivayshun that has been a'wurkin well fer a few years now. heres whut happend.

i wurk at one of wall streets major firms, witch lets jes call it goodbank. i gut the job back in 2002. i had been wurkin at a terrbull job befor that on a counta how whenever 9/11 happend, the job i had wuz buried in dust n i had to take 'inny port in a storm,' as they say. so when an ole boss of mine ast me to cum wurk fer her, i give it sum thought n after bout a year of talk, i gut the job.

six weeks after i gut the job, thay wuz a round of layoffs, witch that included my boss, my ole boss who hired me, n her boss (who i knew frum a prior job n who hepped me git in the door). i figgerd twuz the end fer me on a counta how it seemd lack i wuz the tail on that dog.

but thangs dint wurk out thataway. i wuz lucky a nuff to be kep on n since thay wuznt no other manjers at the time, the putt me in charge. twuz a verr stressful time on a counta how i dint know hardly nuthin bout the cultchur of the place, dint hardly know nuthin bout the infrastructchur, dint have no natherull allies in a verr tuff enviroment.

but i did have a few thangs a'goin fer me. fer one, i had made friends with minny a banker whenever i wuz wurkin at a nuther wall street firm, witch lets jes call thatn badbank. i also had the confidents of the main person we had to please in the 'bu,' witch they refer to them folks ye support as the business unit even tho they never say nuthin but bu (did i mentchun i wurk in computer support?).

rite away, i gut requests to do this n that n tuther thang. i dint hardly know my staff, dint hardly know who wuz good at whut. far as i could tell, the hole team wuz verr unhappy, spendin lots of time a'wurryin bout whut they wuz havin to do more wurk than the nex guy.

i dint know much whut to do, witch thats when i had a bit of good luck.

bein frum tennessee, i made a big deal of bein a volunteer. everday i had a list of thangs that needed doin, so i gut in the habit of sendin out sumthin i called the daily agenda. i wood ast ifn i had a volunteer to do this or that. corse, them that lacked doon that kinda wurk wood offer thar servus n that hepped me figger out sho wuz good at whut.

i wood bold ever name n use colors n such sos to make it a lil more fun. folks lacks to see thar name in print n boldin it made it easier fer em to pick out the names.

one mornin, i writ that we wood have trainin at 11 am. rite away i gut a note frum the trainer lettin me know the trainin wuz at 10, not 11. twuz a grate ketch on his part, so i created a rule that more or less changed everthang. i deecided that ifn a reader could find a miss take lack i made that day, i wood pay em one dollar, witch i gut in the habit of ritin it as the daily ($1) dollar.

corse ye caint call sumthin the daily ($1) dollar ifn ye dont award folks a dollar everday. i had dun gut in the habit of ritin thanks n kudos to innybidy that had volunteerd to do sumthin or even ifn they had dun a real good job without volunteerin. one day, i fergut to thank sumbidy, so one of my best team members writ me a note to say i orta say thans n kudos to the feller i had dun missd. so i invented a rule named after that grate team member.

long stary short, the rules grew n grew. whenever we had embedded jurnlists a'goin over to cuver our wars, i announced i wood embed sum errs in the daily agenda n ifn i did, ye wood half to ketch it to win. i also started puttin in a lil puzzle that i named the tie-breaker, i reckun that gut to be the mos poplar part of the hole thang.

corse, to keep folks motivated, i wood lis the top winners to date, witch i calld it the daily ($1) dollar club. after a year of so of that, i started listin the teams n addin up all the winnins of the differnt team members.

at the start, i wuz sendin the daily agenda to jes a few folks -- my frunt line team of 4 wurkers n my full time staff team of 3. now its gut a readership of over 90 folks.

so whut wuz the pitcher? tiz the winnins to date frum the verr beginnin of a feller that has won moren innybidy else. as ye kin see, them dollars mount up, but i figger tiz a bargain on a counta i kin count on folks readin the daily agenda with grate keer sos they kin find the embedded err or figger out the tie-breaker n so furth.

twuz a bit of luck to git me past a ruff patch of life but it turnt into sumthin that folks hate to live without. sumtimes i git tired of havin to doot on a counta how it means i have to git to wurk early. but i caint beat the affeck.

that dont mean we aint gut problems, but tiz a good thang when folks is trine to win the daily ($1) dollar by prazin the wurk of a nuther team member.

nuff sed.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

tackticks of buddy don: motivayshun trix

whar i wurk i gut 10 folks reportin to me, witch everbidys part of a larger group. by almos pure acksident, i cum up with a trick to motivate folks. tomorrow im a'gone splain it in sum deetail. fer today, heres a clue, witch ye mite call it a mystry. inny idee whut this pitcher stands fer?


Wednesday, May 11, 2005

mizry of buddy don: better but not well

them migraines has cum back, but thar differnt frum how they used to be. this past weekend, i had lots of them warnin simptums: feelin lack vertigo, that lite show of auras ye see at the edge of everthang, the feelin of bein irritatabull over nuthin.

so happend that miz bd wuz takin sum classes in thai yoga massage, witch the classes run fer five days n ended after the class they had on sundy. i dint wont her to know i mite be sick on a counta how she wood be lackly to stay home to keer fer me, so i put on the bes show yet. twuz good a nuff to git her off to skool bof days.

then mundy when i woke up, i could feel the wurst simptums a'cummin on, manely the feelin that i wuz a'gone half to vomit. this time thay wuznt inny pane atall in the hed, not even that tender spot on the surface of the lef side.

so i tride to cunvints myself that i wuz a'gone be ok, that i could go to wurk without no truble. this time, miz bd wuz not fooled. i lef fer wurk n she could tell by how i wuz walkin that thangs wuznt rite. as soon as i wuz in the brite sun i knew thangs wuz touchy. thays jes sumthin bout brite lite that i caint handle whenever im bout to git sick.

shore a nuff, i gut on the bus n lasted jes three stops till i had to git out n hunker down fer what, thank god, wernt nuthin but dry heaves. so i cum home n tuck that awful, life-stealin zomig (witch tiz a blessin how i dint half to live with the vomitin simptums, so zomigs bettern that).

innywho, yesterdy wuz wurse on a counta i woke up wontin to vomit. i made my erbs in hopes they could stop the thang, but that dint wurk. by the time they wuz reddy, i had dun tuck my zomig.

once that zomig has gut to wurkin, the wurst thang bout the attack by far is how deepressd i feel bout bein sick: i wurry bout losin my job, bout never bein able to wurk reglar agin, bout how i caint thank whut wurk ye could do that woodnt git ye fired fer bein sick as raglar as i been lately. ye kin magine how folks mite wonta end it all durin such a state, witch i thank god i aint gut no temptayshuns lack that thanks to that acksident i had a long while back.

i had a pointment with frank butler down to soho erbs n ackupunkchur skeduled alreddy, so i went. by then, the zomig had wore off a nuff sos i could go alone (after sleepin mos of the day). i felt lack pall gizin to frank fer gittin sick agin, witch i git that same feelin bout wurk, but he dint take it thataway.

he sed twuz good i wuz thar in the middle of a nuther attack. twuz nice to here im bein so postiv when i wuz feelin lack pall gizin to the worl fer bein sick. he tole me i could git well, that the path we been follerin is a'gone git us whar we wonta git, that he wuz a'gone make thangs better that afternoon with sum ackupunkchur.

so i went in n let em listen to my pulse n look at my tung. abby tole me she could see in a instunt how i wuz sick whenever i walked in on a counta i dint have no energy n pep n such. tiz obveeus to everbidy but me, i guess.

innywho, she gut the hole story bout this latest migraine, witch they dun changed. the biggest thang thats differnt is how the warnin period has slowed down n gut a lot longer. i had a migraine a few weeks ago whar my hed wuz tender fer three days befor i gut sick. fer thisn, i had two days of the weekend with warnin simptums befor the attack gut underway. so sumthin is changin.

once she had the story down, she tole me to git up on the bed n lay on my back. corse, i tuck my shoes n socks off. this time frank stuck needles in a new place, my stumach, witch he putt three thar, one in each hand, one on my right forearm, one in each foot n one in my rite calf.

once they git the needles in ye, they let ye lie still in the dark fer about tweny mints or so. durin that time, seems lack i drift halfway into a dream whar i see lots of odd thangs that i caint hardly member after tiz over.

but once they cum n pulld them needles out of me n let me know i should use the originull erb recipe till i see frank nex windsdy, i lef n as i wuz a'walkin tords the path stayshun, i real eyesd how i wuz feelin better agin. tiz lack they turnt off the sick switch.

now ifn i kin larn how to turn it off befor it gits turnt on!

Monday, May 09, 2005

legendairy fish of buddy don: bidshicka

a while back i writ a lil item bout a tank of cichlids i been keepin since 1994, witch that articull wuz bout a fish name of brownie. thays a nuther fish that deeserves a few wurds on a counta how hes dun pulled off sum tricks me n miz bd aint never seen befor.

tiz a blue pseudotropheus acei name of bidshicka, witch we gut the fish rite befor 9/11 happend n miz bds son give it the name of bidshicka, witch thats the name of a roma (witch that means gypsy) leader ye kin read bout in this book name of bury me standin. whenever bidshicka wuz a'gittin named, he wuz a tinyy lil thang n twuznt sartin twood make the transishun to the new tank. it tuck im a lease a year, but in the end, bidshicka wuz the big fish in the tank. heres a pitcher of im when he wuz yunger n tuffer:



bidshicka tuck over top fish of the tank frum a fish name of agnew, witch he wuz a yeller fish that dint stay top fish fer verr long. heres a pitcher of him:



jes to show ye how they could git along befor agnew died, heres a pitcher of em bof checkin out the fotogruffer:



far as we kin tell, ye kin keep a cichlid alive fer about four years. thats the oldest we been able to keep one. so bout a year ago, after agnew had dun been dispatched, twuz no big sprize to see bidshicka down, witch seems lack whenever they die frum ole age, they git to whar they jes quit trine n lie down n dont git back up.

i hollerd to miz bd that it looked lack bidshicka wuz dun fer on a counta how he wuz a'lyin in a corner on the bottom n not movin a fin. yet whenever it cum time to feed, thar wuz bidshicka makin shore he gut the mos.

so twuz a odd thang to see, a fish that played dead. yet he did it mos ever chants he gut. he had im a place whar he wood lie n ye could see how he wuz a'doon it on purpose. whut wuz speshly weird bout it wuz how bidshicka kep his place as top fish in the tank. so twuz fer well over a year.

then thay cum sum kinda power struggle n a peach colord fish name of lucky tuck over. so we figgerd this time, bidshicka wuz a'gone half to die on a counta we aint never seen a top fish lose his place as top fish without dyin in jes a few days. shore a nuff, lucky did his bes to beat bidshicka up, nippin at his tail n even gittin sum bites in along his sides.

but bidshicka used his abilty to play dead to git lucky to leave im alone n we figgered twuz a bit of behavyer we aint never seen befor. durin this time, we had a fish name of esther, witch lucky mated with esther n they had em a set of fry that included three survivers, witch thats bout average.

but we gut a nuther cuple fish includin one we called 'new blue' on a counta how he looked lack bidshicka only smaller, n a nuther fish we named 'cutty shark' on a counta how it wuz bout the color of the orange part of a cutty sark label. cuttys color aint lack no othern we ever had, so we wuz happy bout havin im ...

... till one day we noticed how cutty had a pouch, witch that means cutty wuz a female that had mated (with 'new blue' as it turnt out). we waited n waited to see the lil 'cutlets,' as we called the fry frum cutty. whut a bunch of fish! bes we kin deetermine (and tiz verr hard to count em), cutty dun dropped sumwhars twixt 10 n 17 fish into the tank.

whenever yer numbers go up lack that n the lil ones git to whar they aint a'fraid to cum out, ye kin see the stress of havin so minny new fish in the tank. sumtimes thatll git the top fish to fitin.

thats kindly whut we eggzpecked, but thangs wuz differnt. this time we watched sumthin we dun seen a time of two, witch thats how esther, the female fish that had mated with lucky, deecided twuz time to take lucky out. we seen this three times at lease: a female fish name of trumbley killt the male name of geronimo when geronimo gut to attackin the lil fish. we seen a fish name of jeanie killt a verr mean fish name of pol pot. in them cases, the female killt the male with a sangle vishus attack.

but twuz odd to see esther chasin lucky round since lucky is bout twice her size. but he wuz runnin n we saw her take such a hard bite outta his side that the scales begun to float in the water. within a cuple hours, lucky lay upside down on the bottom of the tank, witch they dont survive that posishun fer verr long.

so i tuck luckys bidy out n flushed it down the toilet. meanwhile, thars bidshicka, givin a lil chase to the new blue (secunt strongest fish lef). once new blue went to hide, bidshicka swum over to his favert place n settled in fer a nap, lookin fer all the worl as ifn he wuz dead.

but he warnt. we aint never seen this kinda change befor, witch tiz nice to see new thangs in a tank thats near 11 years ole! corse, thays all them lil cutlets to watch . . . twill be innerestin once one of the males gits big a nuff to challenge eethur bidshicka or new blue.