This has to be the email of the week, I got this out of New Mexico and thought I would share it with all of you. As for the validity of it and all that, it could or could not be true.
But it is pretty amusing.
Judy Wallman, a professional genealogy researcher in southern California , was doing some personal work on her own family tree. She discovered that Senator Harry Reid’s great-great uncle, Remus Reid, was hanged for horse stealing and train robbery in Montana in 1889. Both Judy and Harry Reid share this common ancestor.
This is the only known photograph of Remus showing him standing on the gallows in what was then Montana Territory.
On the back of the picture Judy obtained during her research is this inscription: ‘Remus Reid, horse thief, sent to Montana Territorial Prison 1885, escaped 1887, robbed the Montana Flyer six times. Caught by Pinkerton detectives, convicted and hanged in 1889.’
So Judy recently e-mailed Senator Harry Reid for information about their great-great uncle.
Believe it or not, Harry Reid’s staff sent back the following biographical sketch for her genealogy research:
“Remus Reid was a famous cowboy in the Montana Territory . His business empire grew to include acquisition of valuable equestrian assets and intimate dealings with the Montana railroad. Beginning in 1883, he devoted several years of his life to government service, finally taking leave to resume his dealings with the railroad. In 1887, he was a key player in a vital investigation run by the renowned Pinkerton Detective Agency. In 1889, Remus passed away during an important civic function held in his honor when the platform upon which he was standing collapsed.
“Like my Daddy used to say, “When it comes to politic’s son, the first liar doesn’t even stand a chance.” Guess “It is all in how you spin it” when it comes to these things, eh Harry?
13 on the floor! The other one out the door … Hammer down, Hammer down!
This time of the year is terribly hard on a guy, especially a guy who has the wanderlust gene like myself. I want to get out and roam, although I know that this is no longer a reality, it is not possible in this day and age. So I fritter the days away sitting on the porch and I find other ways to amuse myself, like wondering, “What is the longest English word you can type with only the left hand?”
Important issues like that.
Spring time. Back in the day I would find myself lying on a blanket with some sweet thing and we would be whispering into each other ears, sonnets and secret phrases, but alas, they are gone too. Now I wonder if the old air conditioner will make it thru another season? How much water I am going to have to put on the lawn this year, to green it up and keep it that way. Why women find it impossible to sleep in a bed that has a fan blowing across it.
I secretly pine for Montana, it is never far away in my thoughts, often just around the corner. The pale blue sky opening up over Bozeman seems to stretch forever. The air is fresh and clean at the top of Bear Tooth Pass outside Red Lodge and the roads empty before, now most likely are bare altogether. A long BNSF freight racing across the land at breakneck speed to Chicago, clear water streams and long hot summer days.
In the summer, you can drive across southern Montana and the haystack dotted farmland seems to roll on and on forever. You drive by the small outfits, and they haul out to the front fence, what they have to sell. Worn out, beaten up pickups, a combine here and there, well used tractor an old motorhome, whatever.
I have driven on two lanes so striking, so majestic and mesmerizing, hauntingly familiar, that you swore they were objects of art. Rolling green sea’s of prairie grass, visions of Native Americans, stampeding horses, bison and of course, cowboys taming an unruly bronco fill my mind.
You would not expect anything less of someone who’s favorite western is “Dancin’ With Wolves.”
Eye candy for the soul is how I always seem to refer to it. A place in time, that lingers in your mind and often helps you thru your day. Distant roads are calling me. Through scenery so spectacular that much like a fine oil or a colorful print hanging on the wall it takes your breath away. The mood and the feel of the land permeate your soul in big sky country, the home of Louis and Clark, the chisled Grizzly.
I yearn to roam.
The old time towns and the architecture mixed with the new style trendy restaurants and galleries of the new west. Pickup’s with gun racks, Small detailed dream catchers hanging from the rear-view mirror, a blue healer dog in the back, one stop light at the end of the block.
And always, a canvas of baby blue (sky) right above you.
Man, I hate living in the city.
CHROME Catch you on the flip-flop
Bought my fuel yesterday and it came to $79.02 which of course “shocked me somewhat.” I have to admit, I was not ready for that, later on during the trip to town I amused myself by imagining that “I am only steps away from a one-hundred dollar tankful.” Who in their wildest dreams would have ever imagined such a thing. Certainly … not me.
Some things and I suppose, people, age well. Some things I suppose, like people, just get old. Get cantankerous, out of sorts, and hard to deal with. I often fall into that second category. I didn’t fare all that well last week in the smile department, but this week, I am going to do better. I am going to make a “concentrated effort to smile more, amuse myself, cheer up even if it kills me.”
This past week I have been suffering thru irritable male syndrome. My testosterone levels have been lower than a New Orleans levy at flood stage and my brain, the part of my brain that is in charge of basic’s such as functioning, emotions, behavior, have been strangely out to lunch for most of the week.
The mere thought of me smiling about anything here lately, is as foreign to me as Obama speaking in Farsi when he begs for more oil. I desperately want to smile, just isn’t all that much of a humorous nature here lately. But I am gonna do better.
I have made up my mind that I AM GOING TO GO FOR IT!
Perhaps I need to get more sleep, that might be the problem. I am finding out as I age, I need at least 8 hours of sleep a day, and 10 hours at night. Sleep is the best thing, and the cheapest thing available to me these days. I love to sleep, the best of two worlds, you get to be alive and unconscious at the same time. And on some days, you can actually work in a nap.
That makes me smile.
It is not easy to say exactly what makes one box of odds and ends a valuable antique, and what makes another box a piece of junk. But the thought of tossing one (out of our garage, which is full of the trash of man) into a dumpster …. That makes me smile. It might be that throwing stuff away that is cluttering up your home is a cathartic experience that just feels good. That too, makes me smile.
The mere thought of it upsetting the little woman’s applecart, that is just an added bonus … Hey, we are on a roll.
Not being able to yell out “Oh boy!” in Jonesboro, Georgia, or finding out that unrestrained giggling on the street is illegal in Helena, Montana; those insane laws make me smile. It is illegal in the state of Oklahoma to tie your ass up within 50 ft of a courthouse, ass meaning donkey. Which would be appropriate term for anyone drafting such legislation or allowing it to remain on the books. Purchasing a new car for thousands of dollars in order to save hundreds on gas … that makes me smile.
When they announce on the news that they have busted some hooker and she has a black book that is full of politicians names …… that makes me smile.
Reading in the paper that the longest earthworm ever found in the world measured 22 ft. from head to toe, that makes me smile, I mean, where would one ever use stupid useless information like that? Did you know that the word Mascara, a cosmetic applied to darken eyelashes comes from the Spanish word ma’scara, which in terms come from the Italian maschera, both of which mean, appropriately, “mask.” The root of the words however come for Arabic maskharah, which means buffoon or clown.
Which is what I would be if I lived in San Francisco and used the stuff, that makes me smile.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have all the answers, and ninety percent of the time, I completely forget the questions. My family physician told me that I have something he called Attention Deficit Disorder. He said, “A.D.D. is a complex disorder, blah, blah, blah.” I didn’t pay much attention to the rest of it.
This friend of mine, who happens to be from California, is back here to visit with the family. We went out to eat yesterday and he said during lunch, “If you were to go camping out in the woods, and someone, late at night, snuck into your tent and molested you would you tell anyone about it?” And I thought about it a minute, and replied, “No way. I don’t want no one to know something that terrible happened to me!” He smiled and then said ……… “You wanna go fishin’ this weekend?” ….
That … Makes me smile.
So as you can see, I am just about clueless. Happy and stupid this morning, pour me another cup of that coffee and don’t worry about my road rage, I will take care of it. I don’t have any idea what makes some people smile and others to frown. I don’t know why some people consistently have a “nice day” and others never seem to see it materialize.
This morning, at this very moment, I am smiling a great deal, because the computers’ ISP is down, the stoooopid computer doesn’t know this, and it keeps trying to update me, download me, and is getting frustrated as all get-out (Okie Expression) because it is not being allowed to function in a rational manner. It has sent me numerous dialogue boxes and/or messages asking that I re-establish the link.
Mid week, I get this letter from my “friendly State Farm Agent” and it says, rather tersely, “our records indicate that your present telephone number is no longer 405- **** and that number is no longer your number. Please inform us of your new number immediately and any other cell phone numbers that you have.”
Yeah right, I don’t “immediately” do anything for anyone, yet alone a stinking insurance company. Tossing that into the trash bin … that makes me smile.
And last but not least. I think about all of my Amigo’s from down south. The mere thought of knowing I have all these wonderful people coming to this country each and everyday and they are depending on me …. Now that … Believe it or not … That makes me smile!
I like the country
Can’t stand all this city strife
Guess I want to be on the boulevard … rollin’
Rollin’ all my life.
Open the east gate of Yellowstone and let me in!
Thinking about Bear Tooth Pass,
Cooke City, Red Lodge Montana
two-lane highways and cheap gas.
Clear water streams
What a hopeless romantic,
a man of many dreams.
No adventure in my life,
No more icing on the cake,
Ho hugs, soft kisses, warm hello’s,
No backrubs, or calls on the telephone,
No important dates for me to make,
My coffee cup has developed a pinhole leak on the bottom,
My first problem of the day.
Wednesday morning, my idle mind draggin’ my heart around. I can hear the low muffled sound of my own heart beating. It disturbs me, a distressing reminder of my own mortality. A slow steady drum beat of how fragile life really can be, and I stop to consider the fact that we seldom realize the frailty of it all.
Sitting here at my window with my cup of Joe, meditating. Today, this day, my thoughts should be concentrated on other things, not so much on leaving, getting out of here. But rather, just making it thru another Oklahoma winter day.
Much like the fading last embers in a dying campfire … the memory of the weekend is fading … Two quick short days in heaven, often just isn’t enough. Perhaps a trip north to Yellowstone or a quick visit to Orlando and some white sand, might just be what the doc ordered up?
I need a two-week placebo for my winter time blues.
Torture Time Again … Things I love
My old bus, “Be ye not the first to try the latest, nor the last to cast the old aside” is what my grandmother used to tell me, something truly special about being the owner of an old hoopie that is no longer in production
The smell of fresh rain on a country road in the summertime.
Songbirds in the tree on the westside of the house
The view from the top of the hill at the Riverside in Laughlin Nevada.
The husky sound of a woman’s laugh in the dark.
Little children at play.
Long stretches of two lane at dusk
the sound of a big Detroit workin a hill outside of Bozeman
fresh popcorn poppin,
mis-spelled words in Bus Conversion Magazines
Setting the Jake and listening to her bark as she drops off the hill.
High-dollar fuel, bad roads, lousy weather, take the edge off life
Aluminum wheels and shaved rivets
crowded truck stops and radared chicken fry’s
polished wheels excite my senses
I like the look of Albuquerque New Mexico after dark from the top of nine mile hill … Same with Las Cruces and The College Exit in Henderson Nevada. Porpoising on the Interstate in Wyoming, running I-20 east out of Houston.
Winning lottery tickets (Hey … This is my fantasy, remember that.)
“It’s all downhill from Van Horn Texas.”
Diesel mechanics who smile and say, “Ah, this aint nuthin.”
Halter tops and cut off Levi’s
Bacon fryin and the smell of burnt toast in the kitchen,
No one in line ahead of me at the fuel desk
mashed potatoes and dark rich gravy
The smell of diesel exhaust early in the morning
A cup of fresh brewed coffee.
Country Music, Miranda Lambert, Carrie Underwood
NASCAR, CMT Video’s, old time Rock n Roll
long, slow wet kisses in the dark,
Stories told late at night around a dying campfire
Cracker Barrel stores … Chrome shops … LED’s … Stainless Steel
the wife humming softly at the kitchen sink
fried apples in thick syrup.
Meeting another truck on a hill late at night, and he says, “Aint nuthin’ back there driver but a whole lot of dark.”
All that … is a Rainy Day slice of life … And some of it even makes me smile.
Hi Guy’s, greetings to all of you this Monday morning, I trust you had a productive and fruitful weekend and were sated and amused. As I am an inquisitive sort, I often wonder about things. All sorts of things. Things in general, things that don’t seem right, this thing and that thing.
Take Ol T Boone Pickens, my favorite West Texas Oil man, for example. Before the elections Ol T Boone was on every channel, telling us we had to get rid of the trucks, that we were dependent on foreign oil and that we needed a windmill in every back yard.
This includes Martha’s Vineyard Teddy, you don’t get a pass on this either.
Where is he now? You don’t see hide nor hair of Ol’ T Boone and I am wondering, “What happened to this West Texas brush popper? He doesn’t seem to be anywhere to be found these days.” Could it be that Big Oil discreetly told him to shut up? Perhaps pointing out to Ol T Boone, that talking about national energy problems and God forbid, unabashedly presenting solutions to those problems, was not in his best interest. That it might be more prudent for him to just be quiet, if he knew what was good for him.
Here is another “thing” that bothers me this morning.
Why is it we are constantly being dumbed down or kept in the dark on most everything, like mushrooms, fed a constant diet of BS and never allowed out into the sunshine. Why is it we are always being “fed bad math” when it comes to oil and oil reserves in this country?
Why is it when a report is issued that is favorable in nature, why is it never “reported.” Being as T. Boone Pickens, an oil man, the modern day energy savior of the country, has all the answers. Perhaps he could tell us why was this particular U. S. Geological Service energy based report was kept hush hush?
The U. S. Geological Service issued a report in April (’08) that only scientists and oil men knew was coming, but man was it big. It was a revised report (hadn’t been updated since ’95) on how much oil was in this area of the western 2/3 of North Dakota; Western South Dakota; and extreme Eastern Montana. Check this out: The Bakken field is the largest domestic oil discovery since Alaska’s Prudhoe Bay, and has the potential to eliminate all American dependence on foreign oil.
The Energy Information Administration (EIA) estimates it at 503 billion barrels.
Even if just 10% of the oil is recoverable … at $107 a barrel, we’re looking at a resource base worth more than $5.3 trillion. When first briefed, legislators on this were virtually ignorant of its existence, you could practically see their jaws hit the floor. They had no idea.’ says Terry Johnson, the Montana Legislature’s financial analyst. This sizable find is now the highest-producing onshore oil field found in the past 56 years reports, The Pittsburgh Post Gazette.
It’s a formation known as the Williston Basin, but is more commonly referred to as the ‘Bakken.’ And it stretches from Northern Montana, through North Dakota and into Canada. For years, U. S. oil exploration has been considered a dead end. Even the ‘Big Oil’ companies gave up searching for major oil wells decades ago. However, a recent technological breakthrough has opened up the Bakken’s massive reserves and we now have access of up to 500 billion barrels.
And because this is light, sweet oil, those billions of barrels will cost Americans just $16 PER BARREL! That’s enough crude to fully fuel the American economy for 41 years straight. And if THAT didn’t throw you on the floor, then this next one should – because the report is from TWO YEARS AGO. You can read all about it. (U. S. Oil Discovery- Largest Reserve in the World! Stansberry Report Online – 4/20/2006)
Hidden 1,000 feet beneath the surface of the Rocky Mountains lay the largest untapped oil reserve in the world. It is more than 2 TRILLION barrels .. On August 8, 2005 President Bush mandated its extraction. In three and a half years of high oil prices none has been extracted.
With this mother-load of oil why are we still fighting over off-shore drilling?
The report also reported this stunning news: It is entirely possible that we have more oil inside our borders, than all the other proven reserves on earth. Here are the official estimates: 8-times as much oil as Saudi Arabia – 18-times as much oil as Iraq – 21-times as much oil as Kuwait – 22-times as much oil as Iran – 500-times as much oil as Yemen – and it’s all right here in the Western United States. I find it somewhat curious that no mention is made of Venezuela who we import 5% of our crude.
HOW can this BE? HOW can we NOT BE extracting this?
Because the environmentalists and others have blocked all efforts to help America become independent of foreign oil. The major oil companies secreting it away doesn’t seem to help matters any either. Again, we are letting a small group of people dictate our lives and our economy. WHY? James Bartis, lead researcher with the study says we’ve got more oil in this very compact area than the entire Middle East -more than 2 TRILLION barrels untapped.
That’s more than all the proven oil reserves of crude oil in the world today, reports The Denver Post. Don’t think ‘OPEC’ will drop its price – even with this find? Think again! It’s all about the competitive marketplace, – it has to . Think OPEC just might be funding the environmentalists? Got your attention/ire up yet? Hope so! Now, while you’re thinking about it … and hopefully find yourself just a little bit P.O’d, do this: you should stifle yourself.
The next time you want to complain about gas prices (and you will, Americans LOVE to complain) remember this .. because by doing NOTHING, you’ve forfeited your right to complain … cold hard fact of life, sorry. I just wonder what would happen in this country if every one of you sent a copy of this to every one in your address book.
By the way… this is all true …That is the truly sad part.
If you have any problem with it and doubt its validity, please check it out at the link.
Think about this the next time you are reaching deep into that pocket to pony up some bucks for a tank full of liquid gold. If any of you happen to come across Ol T. Boone, let me know, I want to ask him a question or two. We now return you to the REAL NEWS in this country, which seems to be which movie star or media personality and/or celebrity is currently pushing up daisies.
Now that title should attract every internet troll in the Universe, should be amusing to see what transpires. Want a big hit count?
Put the word S-E-X somewhere in the title or “imply that the word S-E-X” is somewhere in there, then sit back and watch ’em come.
There are two things in this world that drive me bonkers.
(#1) Christmas Music. It drives me up the wall, I used to say it drives me crazy, but Cup Cake was always rolling her eyes and muttering “short trip” so I stopped doing that.
Department store Christmas Musak is my Achilles Heel and I just about go nuts every time I am exposed to it. It is not the message or the jingle lah-lah, it is how it “just sticks in my head all day long like some kind of mutant cerebral disease” and will not let me go!
(#2) The second thing I can’t abide by is “shopping.” I just about hate any kind of shopping, for just about anything. You ever see someone with a puppy on a leash and they are literally “dragging the dog, because the pup will not be tamed by the leash.” That is me shopping, drag me kicking and screaming all the way into the deep recesses of the store, but I will not willfully submit.
It might be a throw back to when I was a little dinker and my mother I don’t know. You know how popular it is in America, “to blame it all on your mother” these days. That could be it. I do know this, my dad was not all that big on babysitting and he didn’t do a lot of it. So consequently, mom would take my sister and myself “shopping” and that including women’s apparel and undergarments.
Now we all know, this is not a familiar area for a little boy. That might have started my aversion to it right there, being dragged around all day long like some little blue eyed blond haired trophy into every store in America by my mother.
Most men do not like to shop, this is why the “Men’s Department” is on the first floor of the building, about two inches off the floor, just inside the door. A man for instance, will stand outside a store and say to himself, “I am cold.” He then walks into a store, finds a suitable jacket or coat, purchases it, “I am no longer cold.” Shopping is now officially over. Let us go home. That is shopping for a man.
Now as I grew older in life, I figured my aversion for shopping would eventually wane, I mean hell, I can stand in Fredrick’s Of Hollywood or Victoria’s Secret for hours at a time now, and it doesn’t bother me a bit.
Now the women, I can feel their eyes boring into the back of my skull, and they quickly look away when I do catch their glance, but they sense that I am not supposed to be there.
Sort of like when you are at the Proctologist’s Office, no one is smiling and everyone is looking down at the floor. Same thing with a man in a store filled with women’s apparel and women. This is often U-n-c-o-m-f-o-r-t-a-b-l-e.com
I realize, it is just like all those little pig-tailed girls did to me in the third grade when Mom drug me into the same kind of mess, “Hey? Whadya YOU doin in here!” and I just shrug my shoulders and wish I was deer hunting in Boseman, Montana or something.
And they are right, I am not, supposed to be there.
I know it, and I didn’t want to come in to this particular store in the first place …. SHE … made me do it. So I do the natural thing, I get on the defense. I do as Frazier Crane sez or Dr. Phil is fond of suggesting … I find my happy place.
I listen intently to the musak coming out of the overhead speakers, Christmas Music and I secretly make up my own lyrics to the songs and all is at peace in my world.
Shop till you drop girls … I will be over here in the corner softly humming.