Ghostly Carolina Lore: Alice, the Ghost of The Hermitage

Last year while in school Darth Spoilboy was introduced to the ghostly lore of the Lowcountry. You might be surprised at the number of specters, phantoms, and agitated spirits that hang around the Georgetown area still making a peculiar racket after several centuries of rattling chains, acting as weathermen, and looking for jewelry in the case of Miss Alice.

My son, Darth Spoilboy, was rather surprised to learn that the burial place of one of South Carolina's most famous ghosts was only a few short miles from Uncle Paul's house. I promised him that we would mosey down to All Saints Cemetery and pay our respects to Miss Alice and the others in the cemetery the next time we were down there. Now don't misunderstand me I'm not a ghoul, I usually don't enjoy visiting such places but on a few occasions where history is involved I do enjoy learning about the people who lived before me. Many of the older cemeteries, 18th and 19th century types, placed a great deal of personal history on the tombstones of those who lay underneath. Plus, just by noticing the date in which a person was born and then died can teach you that life just a century ago was far tougher than many in this day and age could ever imagine. While touring Charleston the family and I more or less stumbled into another ancient cemetery and could not help but notice how many children never made it beyond the age of five.


The kids and I had just finished our day at the beach and were going to meet Uncle Paul and Lady Einstein, my aunt, at a local restaurant for an early dinner. Spoilboy then remembered my promise to show him the grave site and being ahead of schedule we made a detour for some education and adventure. All Saints Cemetery is nicely tucked away from the newer, more irritating, sections of the Pawleys Island community. The new subdivisions that have sprouted like unwelcome mushrooms are several miles south and the area around the cemetery has kept a great deal of the timeless sleepy quality the entire community once had. In fact I was somewhat surprised to see no one else visiting the cemetery since the local tourist board pushes the local ghost stories as hard as possible to draw more money in the area.







I have little to no idea about how or why graves are done but I noticed these types of tombs at the cemetery in Charleston a couple of years back. One of the tombs there, circa the 1750's, was cracked in the middle running all the way across the huge slab sitting on top with enough space between the cracks to almost see what might be inside. My best guess for these types of tombs is that in the Lowcountry the water table is so high that when it flooded in the real old days coffins had a nasty habit literally popping out of the ground. Such events are somewhat rarer but one officer I knew in the National Guard had the seriously messed up duty of locating and then retrieving coffins after a flood in North Carolina where he was living at that time. Making things very much worse was the fact that the cemetery where many of the coffins he was having to locate and retrieve came was new and still very much in business. So, trying not to be gross, many of the occupants in the misplaced coffins were "fresh", in a manner of speaking.

The picture below is of the grave site of Miss Alice. Several legends about her that I have heard say that if a engaged or newly married couple walk in a circle around her grave she will pull the engagement or wedding ring off the ladies finger. The path worn into the ground around her grave seem to confirm that at least some test the old legends. If you look closely at the picture you may see the pile of coins on top of her grave. Why people are doing this I have do idea but before we started to head back out to the car and make our way to the restaurant I did drop a couple coins myself. I was especially glad after the fact that once we were out of the cemetery Miss Wiggles, who I was carrying, yelled out: "Bye everybody!" For the full story of Miss Alice I invite y'all to visit CoastalGuide.com and read the most authentic version of her story.

Operation Lawn Freedom

A very loose, beer inspired lawn care parable.

Last Saturday I marched outside to do my usual weekend battle with the forces of crabgrass, dandelions , and this late in the active lawn care season fascist juniper looking for lebensraum outside its traditional homeland inside the decorative landscaping island on the far side of the front yard. Persistent issues with the juniper over the last few years forced me to adopt the policy of unconditional surrender for the glorified weed and with limb shears in hand I took on the attitude of Patton cutting into the heart of Deutschland during the Second World War. I cleaned out the landscape island during the early hours of Saturday morning with the company of Daniel Shorr and Scott Simon discussing the events of the past week. After listening to those two guys talk about Bush and his “leadership style” for the last few years I’ve come to the conclusion that they must laugh their asses off as soon as they go off the air right after they discuss some new Bush inspired policy or the latest Bush speech. Well, to be honest they probably don’t laugh, they may cry, suffer fits of anxiety, drink heavily, or pray to God for deliverance for them and the country but I doubt they laugh about anything Bush says or does. But anyway, whatever they do off the air their consistent journalistic professionalism was valuable company as I joyfully ripped through the juniper taking out my frustrations thinking about Rush, Sean, Bill, and the blond haired, short skirt wearing Gila monster that somehow finds a way to crawl from a rock from time to time.

I finished ripping out the juniper in record time, and for some reason felt really good afterward, go figure. But my mission of defeating the forces of juniper fascism and their weed insurgent allies was far from over. Dragonwife returned from a Home Depot trip bringing fresh supplies of weed block cloth, pins to secure the cloth to the newly conquered territory, and fourteen bales of occupying pine straw forces. Before her departure she tried to rumsfeld me by saying she would buy the cheap tissue paper-like brand of weed block cloth at Lowes and questioning my need for more than ten bales of pine straw. And to think she said earlier that week she would go with whatever my recommendations were on how to accomplish the mission Saturday morning. Must be something in the water or air since others, admittedly on higher levels, do their best to ignore the more knowledgeable advice from those in the field or front yard. But I did not bow to Dragonwife’s pressure to underestimate what it would take defeat the forces of flora fascism. Hell no, I would not betray-us the mission by allowing insurgent weeds to hide out underneath the cheap weed block only to poke through and endanger the new regime I established in the landscaping island.

After taking command of the new supplies I surged forward and laid down the thick quality weed block cloth over the occupied landscaping territory promoting a clean, stable environment for the allied shrubs and decorative plants. Dragonwife did want be to enlist the aid of something called Blackwater weed spray to put down the hidden insurgent weeds in the ground. But I had better sense than using an extremely expensive product that no matter what poisoned the surrounding areas causing more problems than it was worth by harming the good shrubs and plants. With the weed block cloth laid out, firmly pined down into the ground, and every bale of pine straw deployed to blanket and secure the landscaping territory- always better to do this early in a mission- it was time to withdraw the remaining supplies and recover to the house to enjoy an afternoon lunch and more than a few beers. I’ve seen some neighbors embark on similar landscaping missions which were totally unneeded since whatever troublesome weed they had were completely contained in a small place and with minor operations were kept in check. But some people just can’t control their stupid urges and want to show off to prove how big a man they are by embarking on poorly planed and cheaply executed operations. Its easy to figure such people out, they come up to neighbors looking for help to pull their ignorant asses out of the fire. Some even mark time throwing more resources and money into an operation until they can turn it over to someone else and then slink off and criticize the person trying to solve the issues they created. It’s a damn good thing no such person could ever achieve a high level office or job, man they could really screw a lot of people and waste a lot of money.

Later after I cleaned up, had my lunch, and was enjoying the latest in a series of very cold Coronas with my feet propped up on the couch wanting to enjoy the quiet afternoon. Dragonwife stormed into the living room sometime later and started carrying on about how the larger decorative landscaping island in the backyard was a breeding ground of weeds which would soon be finding their way to the newly established landscaping regime I had created in the front yard. She said that the time was now to do something about the threat to all the stable attractive work we had done today. I ran outside to recon and access the threat to all the work and money put into today’s operation and decided that to tackle a new area much larger than what I worked on that day with the strained and stretched resources available right then would have been a very bad idea. As much as Dragonwife carried on saying that many of the lawn care experts reported that the time was right to defeat the evil axis of weeds I simply smiled at her as I sipped my beer and told her to get all the armchair lawn care experts crying about the evil weeds into the field to do their share of work. Dragonwife said I then walked off muttering something about drafting all the damn Chickenhawks to fight the dreaded weeds but figured after all the beers I had drank was confusing the situation and let it go.

Warning, danger ahead you are about to enter the Parrothead Zone

All ye that enter here abandon all hope, logic, reason, and any relationship with normal reality.

Mike over at Tongue in Check has saw fit to tag me and once again the dark inner sanctum of a tequila soaked mind is about to be exposed. I am legally required by my lawyer and wife, Dragonwife, to warn y'all that if your expecting logic and good sense, well your in the wrong place. So with that behind us I'll get started.

1. I spent a total of 21 years serving in the active army and then the South Carolina National Guard. I retired from the Guard early in 2005 and its a safe bet that the second happiest day in my was when I returned home and tossed my uniform into the dirty clothes basket. After all those years it was really dirty and smelly.
   
2. I am 1/16 Cherokee Indian on my mom's side. When I informed a full-blooded Cherokee I was friends with while in the army of this fact he asked me not to pass that information around due to the fact that Native Americans had suffered far to much already.
   
3. I work at a hospital repairing steam sterilizers, surgical tables, surgical lights, and when the normal X-ray repair technicians are taking a long lunch...I mean really really busy some place else I pitch hit for them.
4. My parent's marriage imploded when I was around eleven with the force of a star collapsing into a black hole taking my brothers, sister and me on one of the nastiest divorces rides in the history of Western Civilization. My mother was caught playing doctor with the vet that should have been taking care of my dog. And my dad took a liking to another married lady across town. At some point while my brothers, sister, and myself were spending the night at my grandparents house my mom, the vet, dad, his special lady friend, and her husband all stumbled upon each other at some little not so out of the way place in North Myrtle Beach. Given the reports that have filtered down to me over the years a young Jerry Springer happen to be on vacation at the same time and was very impressed with the fireworks that developed between the two couples. The rest, as they say, is history.
5. On a more serious note, the current state of our country scares the living hell out of me. Living in the White House is a "man" whose entire life has been engineered by the clever friends of his father. Had W. not been born into the Bush family he would have been lucky to make it as a second rate used car salesman. Using lies, half truths, and deceptions he has tangled the country into a war with no exit plan. We, and the rest of Western Civilization, are dependent on this same region for the very life blood of our economies but yet even after he has done his best to ruin every aspect of our nation's reputation in the region he and his dark sneering pal Cheney have not even begun to work on a national plan to end our dependence on oil from that region. Among his other derelictions of duties: Trampling the civil liberties of this nation all under the guise of "protecting the American people". Hiring unqualified cronies to major posts in the government that affect the lives of millions of people when they fail to provide the services that just a few years before were models of efficient management. Even after it became clear to just about everyone down to a first grader he refused to increase the number of troops in Iraq to stem the tide of chaos when it could have made a difference. Sorry folk, the 30,000 troop surge with forward deployments into the countryside has indeed helped some but the minute troops levels go down to pre-surge levels the absence of any Iraqi reconciliation will condemn that tortured country to full scale civil war. Why the people in this country are not screaming for his impeachment and then removal from office after all his disasters also scares the hell out of me.
   
6. Even with my parent's implosion and resulting chaos they put my siblings and I through we were pretty poor candidates for being able to make it to a four year college. While we were not dirt poor, our social and economic position had us securely placed in the blue collar category. But through the GI Bill I was able to get my glorious two year associate degree in Electronics and later, before my son was born, I continued with college courses until I'm just a few semesters short of a four year degree in Information Technology. One day for shits and giggles I'm going to finish the damn thing.
   
7. My wife is an attorney and I must to admit that for the first few years of our marriage I was a little intimidated and in awe of the high power types, both male and female, she worked around. That was until I got to know them in greater detail and now to be completely honest I have discovered far too many of them are the stupidest, ignorant of anything outside their interests, close minded, egotistical, lacking any God given common sense to the point that they make the greasiest trailer trash redneck look good. The trouble is many of them are involved in government of a local and state level. As I discovered this fact I started making plans to expatriate to Mexico.
   

Well thats about it, I hope you have enjoyed your ride through the Parrothead Zone. Please raise your seat and tables to the upright position but only unbuckle your seat belt once you have come to a complete stop and navigated away from this site. The seven lucky people I need to tag are the following:
Vigil
Mad Mike
Lime
Pammy
Keshi
Zombieslayer
Donviti

I will return to normal comments to my allied bloggers tomorrow night, or as much as the IT Nazis will let me at work.

An American Girl

Brains and beauty in one little bundle, as the years go by I pity anyone who stands in her way.
Dragonwife returned from China bringing home my daughter on a hot late May afternoon in 2003. My son, Darth Spoilboy, and I were waiting at the airport on the other side of the security line watching the arrivals of others and seeing them reunite with their families and friends. Spoilboy was a ball of energy eager to meet his new baby sister still exclaiming how he would help feed and read stories to her. His one condition on his unprecedented offer to be helpful was that in no way would he ever change a diaper. The diaper issue not withstanding his good attitude about the new baby was quite a change for him since it had not very long before that when asked by Dragonwife and me about whether he wanted a baby brother or sister he had quickly shot back telling us that if it was up to him he would pick a hamster instead. His eagerness to see his new sister was a welcome sight though since he had been a only child his entire seven years of his life up to then and there had been some concern about how he would adjust. I, on the other hand was excited but nervous about this bundle I was about to see for the first time. While the overall adoption process had been without real issues outside events such as the attacks on 9/11, strained international relations and further fears of terrorism, and worst of all the SAR's outbreak in Asia had almost literally derailed everything. The diaper thing was also playing on me since no amount of money could get Spoilboy to help out with that and Dragonwife was just about as bad turning green most of the time when she had to change Spoilboy's when he was a baby.

Finally, it was announced over the airport intercom that the non-stop flight from San Francisco Dragonwife and my new daughter were on had landed and Spoilboy and I squeezed as close to the TSA passenger screening area we could without having Homeland Security raising the threat level trying to see them coming down the walkway. We did not have to wait long, both Dragonwife and the new Miss Wiggles were soon spotted coming down the concourse. After making it across the security line I bent down to meet my new daughter and I saw this tiny little thing dressed in a yellow dress sitting in a travel stroller. She looked at me with huge eyes not quite sure what she was seeing and looked back at Dragonwife every now and them to make sure everything was OK. I picked her up from the stroller and she started to examine me in greater detail still looking back at Dragonwife every now and then with the look that said: "You married this clown, I had hoped for a better looking daddy." All this time at my first meeting with her she did not utter a sound. Some of it was the fact that she had just traveled thousands of miles leaving the people that had cared for her since she had been abandoned at the orphanage when she was about a month old. The other part was her realizing that her new daddy was an American, and even worse from the south. I bet she expected I would take her to NASCAR races and and make her watch bass fishing shows on television. None of that happened and to the surprise of Dragonwife and Spoilboy we discovered she really likes Buffett, so much now that she sings along on many of his songs as we drive down the road and eat in restaurants. After a few minutes she turned to Dragonwife and threw up her arms wanting to go back to Dragonwife. We all walked out of the airport with Wiggles looking at me and Spoilboy, then Dragonwife, then back down the concourse the way she came. Whether her glances back down the concourse was a desire to get back to China away from the big crazy looking American I have no idea but she was fascinated by the now used plane ticket Dragonwife had given her to play with in which she seemed to be reading the fine print.

Fast forward to last week when I drove into the parking lot of Wiggles daycare. Right next the fence I saw Wiggles talking with a group of girls her age. One lone boy was beside Wiggles but one of the other girls was pulling on the shirt sleeve of the boy who despite all the animated talking going around him from the girls was busy picking his nose. You might be surprised but my first thought upon seeing the gaggle of little girls carrying on beside one little boy who was paying no attention to them was that some things never change. I try to ignore Dragonwife and her friends conversations if I can't escape from the area. Although I have yet to pick my nose around them, I am guilty of scratching a few sensitive areas on me that I just could not ignore as they carried on about American Idol, dress sizes, or Martha Stewart.

I went inside and collected Miss Wiggles papers for the day from her classroom and inquired about her behavior from the young lady that took over the class after 4:00pm. This young lady along with several other were all seeking a degree in education and worked at the daycare in the afternoon to get some hands on experience with children. I soon learned that my quite shy little girl from China had that day led a class revolt upon learning that vanilla pudding was being served after lunch instead of the normal chocolate. It was reported to me that Wiggles had said vanilla was "yucky" and that she would only nap if chocolate was served instead. Somehow in all this several other kids joined in the protest which resulted in a brutal smack down of the revolt by the use of a group time out and no pudding at all. I heard this news and pictured in my mind the usual suspects, all members of the pre-school Ya-Ya sisterhood posse in which Wiggles plays a leading part. I assured the young lady that Wiggles would be talked to about her revolutionary agitation hoping this young education major would not sour on her career choice before getting her degree.

Stepping outside the building I saw Wiggles, one other little girl named Melrose, and the nose picking little boy named Clooney waking through a pile of leaves. The girls were picking leaves off the ground, examining them, and then handing them to Clooney who was being very careful not to drop it along with the others the girls had apparently given him earlier. Another one of the education major substitute teachers was monitoring the kids outside and called out to Wiggles to get her attention. Wiggles saw me and came running but not before saying something to Melrose and grabbing Clooney by the hand pulling him along. Clooney dropped a few leaves along the way and stopped to pick them up only to have both Wiggles and Melrose fuss at him for it. I silently laughed at that knowing that he would learn at some point that sometimes no matter what you did as far as woman were concerned you were always wrong. All three came up to the door and Wiggles informed me that Melrose and her had decided that they would share Clooney and asked if they could come over this Saturday. I, in turned, asked what did she mean about sharing Clooney? Melrose chimed in that she and Wiggles had been told that they had to share something if they both wanted it and they both wanted to marry Clooney. How was I suppose to respond to that statement? I figured some battles can wait and said that was great and that Melrose's mom needed to call Wiggles and Clooney's mom and arrange a play date or wedding reception, as long as there was cake. All three agreed and as I took Wiggles away Melrose broke off to play with a different Ya-Ya sister and I left Clooney standing in front of the door once again picking his nose. Raising this American girl is going to be a really interesting endeavor as the years go by.

Author and editor's note: This is a reprint from my previous and down defunct blog. I have several things in the works but nothing right now is anywhere near completion. I hope y'all enjoy.

Laid back beach trip

A few photos of the September 15th beach trip in no particular order. No parties, dancing, or rendezvous, just the kids and me hanging out. I'm afraid this summer was a bust. But you know what they say about a bad day at the beach.


One of my favorite spots on Pawelys Island facing the marsh close to the north causeway. Had Spoilboy and Wiggles been more appreciative of nature and the beauty of the marsh along with the ability to be quiet I would have loved to sit at this spot and just watch the tide come in. A few trips ago I bumped into a couple that I had been friends with in high school at this spot enjoying the view and having a moment alone before returning home. Incredibly despite having family still in Georgetown and Pawleys my old high school friends actually thought I had died years back. Apparently the high school reunion organizers had sent a card to my last know address years before and got back a response that I had died. Several times I have thought about tracking down the reunion organizers to see what address they sent that card to to find out who said I was dead but I frankly don't have time.


A long deserted stretch of Huntington Beach State Park a little south of Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. When I lived on the coast this was my second favorite place to hang out. While many beaches have problems with to many people causing problems this one, and this section in particular, is almost always this deserted. I had several long evening walks down this way while in college with some awesome ladies. One "walk" lasted too long with my girlfriend and I running for the car trying to get out before the park closed. We didn't make it, and we had to deal with a grinning park ranger who I thought would turn out to be a jerk but just said that he had dealt with this before and escorted us out.









Darth Spoilboy and Miss Wiggles. After months of pain-in-the-ass issues at work and getting the money pit ready to sell, if the market ever improves, we loaded up in the starship and made it down to the coast on September 15th. It was a perfect day with a great breeze and the kids really enjoyed running around on the beach. Miss Wiggle was convinced she could catch a sandpiper and ruined some good nature shots I was trying to get. Saw a dolphin out in the water and both Spoilboy and I had to stop her from trying to catch a ride with it. We had a nice long walk up the beach of about three miles both ways. Spoilboy and Wiggles handled the march but Wiggles was asleep in the car just as soon as I put her in the car.













On the south end of Pawleys Island Sunday morning. Tide was coming in and a heavy wind had the surf really rough. Saw this guy in his boat where the creek separating the island from the mainland runs into the ocean. I actually thought he was going to loose his boat due to the rough surf and end up in the ocean because for a few minutes he couldn't seem to stand up. Dude was finally able get everything under control and and head back up the creek and safer waters.












Spoilboy, Wiggles, and me heading back to Uncle Paul's place before heading home toward Columbia. Many of the beachhouses in this shot are survivors of Hurricane Hugo and while they were extensively damaged in the storm they were rebuilt back close to the same style that existed before the storm. On the north end of Pawleys many of the houses are of a new style with glassed in porches that drive me utterly crazy. Pawleys before Hugo use to carry the slogan "Arrogantly Shabby" due to the nature of the structures on the island. After Hugo and later with an influx of (I'll be kind) newcomers the new construction on the island tended to be McMansions on stilts creating a, I hoped, a tongue and cheek new slogan saying "Arrogantly arrogant". Unfortunately, having met many of the newcomers the new slogan has been taken to heart. One of the features almost universal to older houses was a huge screened in porch facing the marsh or ocean to catch breezes to keep cool. Many of the new houses have huge plate glass windows depending on air conditioning to overcome the small greenhouse effect they produce and enclosing the people inside. Overlooking the over use of air conditioning and the fact that what another hurricane will turn those huge glass windows into shiny tiny razor sharp shards I have a huge time trying to understand why people would invest so much money in a beach house and not want to experience the environment. If they just wanted to see the beach a huge plasma TV and a beach video playing continuously would have been a lot cheaper.


While looking somewhat in a good state of repair, to me the picture below is the holy ruin of Pop's Grill and a place where for years teenagers and even families came to catch a quick burger or hot dog after spending time on the beach. The insidious growth and American addiction to the Burger Clown spelled the end of this landmark. Several times the place has been reopened but with the new owners violating the spirit of the place as it was meant to be when it opened in the 50's. Way before I ever came along the Pawleys Island community was a small village away from just about everything but enjoying a special spot on the planet. Although a small general store existed just off the island just about all supplies for living involved traveling to Georgetown and even longer distances if you needed something special. The glories of Wal-Mart and hyper-consumerism had yet to come about to supply your midnight desire for popcorn or cheap CD's. At least in my view sometime around the early 90's the small village disappeared with a rabid development allowing in a huge crop of snobby Benz driving newcomers that has spoiled to a great extent the special nature of what once existed. Many upper class subdivisions have been built on what was once swamps and raising property taxes and forcing many longtime middle class and working locals inland. Making matters worse a home insurance crisis I believe on par with what is happening in Florida is adding to the exodus of locals. Sometimes I wonder if a new type of 21st century landed gentry is being created with the rich only being able to afford coastal property and the middle and working classes at some point being restricted to affordable resorts. Almost makes me look forward to rising sea levels and stronger hurricanes from global warming.

First date

Watch out ladies, a young Sith lord is now on the loose.

One of the biggest enjoyments about being a parent for me has been watching the different phases my children have gone through. Not all of them have been cute and fun, far from it, my son, Darth Spoilboy loved Barney the purple dinosaur deeply and wanted to see it every waking minute when he was three and four years old. Throw in Dragonwife who back then bought every Barney video she could find for her baby and I swear what little mind I can claim almost slipped away. To this day if I hear “I love you, you love me, we're a happy family ....” I go catatonic for several hours. Luckily, for me, Miss Wiggles did not like Barney and I happily watched all the videos be carted off by a slightly sour looking dad who had bought them during a yard sale several years ago with the mom and their young one singing that hideous song as they walked away. I said a prayer for that poor man that night and hoped he would feel as good as I did to pass those cursed dinosaur videos off to someone else when the time came.

Spoilboy later developed other interests such as Power Rangers and Pokemon, both only slightly less irritating than Barney but much shorter lived. Other less than fun phases involved him lifting the skirts of unsuspecting ladies, powered Nestle-Quik chocolate drink, and the saying of bad words in public. Okay I’ll accept the fault on that one since he was only repeating what daddy said around him, those little ears could have heard a mouse whisper. After each phase passed, good or bad, I did suffer from some sadness realizing that a milepost had been reached on his way to that strange land of adulthood. But the latest phase he has entered really is a wakeup call that one day he will be grown and the little fellow that followed me around with a toy mower as I cut my grass will be completely gone.

Actually it started last year as I caught him in the school playground talking with a girl during the open house that his school had at the beginning of the school year. I left Dragonwife in the classroom with a gaggle of other mothers discussing the trials and tribulations of modern life. Bored soccer and tennis moms wanting to be somewhere else, divorced moms flailing absent ex-husband , and desperate housewives juggling this meeting and one of two smaller children wanting to go catch the gold fish in the class aquarium. I was one of only a handful of fathers attending the open house and if pushed to admit it I left the classroom because some of the discussions involved how worthless men were, mainly espoused by the divorced mom group but the premise went unopposed by the other two mom groups. After slipping out I found Spoilboy talking with a young girl but left the issue alone since I knew the last people he would want to see right then would have been his mom or me. Not much came of this secret meeting, I know Spoilboy did receive a few phone calls that year in which he did not want us to hear what was being said and I do know a few were from girls. So while it was a big change for him recognizing that girls were interesting beyond the cooties you catch nothing shook the foundations of mom and dad until this weekend.

Spoilboy is now in junior high and immediately his social life took a quantum jump almost as soon as he walked into the doors. His appearance is of the utmost importance requiring cool clothing labels, and expensive deodorants that have television commercial suggesting spraying their product on will drive women mad with desire and come running up to tear your clothes off. Unfortunately, I know for a fact those commercials are blatant false advertising but I never tried the stuff, no really I haven’t I just know a friend who did. The boy who used to ignore the internet now sending instant messages to several of his friends regularly about homework, the phone is “uncool”. He has about 25 gigabytes of songs on the hard drive many I frankly can’t stand, and is trying to talk Dragonwife and myself into letting him establish a My Space page; and yes he and his friends consider Blogger uncool as well. But what really through me for a loop was a phone call I received from a dad late Friday evening asking if Spoilboy could attend a church party and a movie with a friend from his class on Saturday. The seriousness I heard in the dad's voice on the other end of the phone was strange until I asked which one of Spoilboy's friends was he talking about. I had a whole list of the usual suspects in my mind and was ready to agree to it when the dad on the phone spoke the name of his daughter, one of the girls in Spoilboy’s class this year code named Amanda. After talking with Amanda’s father on the phone further about this party and movie I could tell this was bothering him as well but he said that they never would be alone and that they would be home around 10:00pm. We both agreed to it and Amanda’s father and I laughed when we both mentioned about how we would break the news of this to the respective mom’s.

Dragonwife came into the house around thirty minutes later full of her usual fluster concerning the week at work and plans for the weekend. As best as I could with the head of steam she had going I sat her down and as calmly as I could explained that Spoilboy had been invited to a party and then a movie Saturday evening. As much as I complain about Dragonwife at times she knew there would be a twist in this news given how I had poured her a glass of ice tea and told her to take some relaxing deep breaths. When I told her that the friend he would be attending the activities with was Amanda Dragonwife’s jaw hit the floor, damn shame too with all her expensive dental work. At first she was completely against it saying he was to young but when Spoilboy came down wanting to know our decision she agreed to it when he promised to come home and give her hugs and kisses like he did as a baby. Y’all this agreement is highly classified, all sorts of preteen hell would break loose if this ever got out, but it won’t stop me from blackmailing him if he shows his ass about doing work in the yard again.

Saturday morning came and I realized Spoilboy was on the phone with Amanda a couple of times talking as the day progressed about things complete alien to my 40-something mind, Spoilboy said any explanation to such an old person as myself was beyond silly and a waste of time. And later as the time approached for him to be picked up it was easy to tell that he was being extra ordinarily serious in how he dressed and smelled. I did make him take a shower again when he asked if he had sprayed on too much of his fancy Axe deodorant. But I let it pass when I could tell he had went ahead and sprayed an even larger amount on after his second shower. Amanda and her dad came to the door not long after to pick him up and the adult chit chat among the parents left much to be desired, both her dad, Dragonwife, and myself were just a little to overwhelmed about the situation despite our statements to the opposite. Amanda and Spoilboy were clearly glad to see each other and were eager to be on the way to the party. We, Dragonwife and I, went outside to see them off and I noticed Dragonwife’s face had a little less than pleasant expression on it and asked her what was she thinking. She responded back after a few seconds that Amanda had taken her little boy and that he was too young to date. The entire time everyone involved had been avoiding the “date” word but to a great extent that is exactly what my son and Amanda are having right now. Being honest again , and a little shallow, the thing that is getting me is that my son who has not even turned twelve is on his first date, I didn’t have my first date until I was fifteen and if I wasn’t more than a little proud of Spoilboy right now that fact would bother me. God help me when I have to go through this with Miss Wiggles.

Constitutional concerns

What goes around eventually comes around, even for us.

I never really thought I paid that much attention in my high school civics class, the last time I had any organized class in American government. But evidence that I encounter every now and then suggests that I either subliminally learned the stuff while lusting after the hot little redhead named Lisa sitting a few seats across from me in that late afternoon civics class or that even earlier the old ABC Rocks cartoons that touched on civics, among other things, carried secret signals of deeper information that eating the right amount of sugary cereals on a Saturday morning while waiting for the Bugs and Roadrunner cartoons allowed young minds like mine to process and store. But either way the basic, and in my belief, dangerous ignorance of the Constitution that I have witnessed in the people around me from time to time would be hilariously funny if it did not chill me to the bone.

Just yesterday I was attending a meeting with others in my department and while the group did eventually come to some sort of order more than a few minutes were spent joshing each other around in a friendly manner and making idle comments about the news broadcast on the television that people had been watching during lunch that had just ended. This was the same scenario that existed over a year ago when I wrote an essay concerning the monstrous comments my co-workers were making about the Iraqi people which simply but accurately put were to the effect: "Kill them all and let God sort them out". They saw no issue with marines killing civilians in cold blood and that in war shit happens. I held my tongue that time mainly due to the fact that all agreeing to that premise were pure civilians who had never served in the military and were suffering from the Rambo syndrome believing you could learn about war from Stallone running through a gaggle of low paid extras carrying a fancy M-60 machine gun blowing them away as he guided the ammo belt feeding into the weapon with his other hand. For those who may not know the traditions and regulations of the US military stand completely against the purposeful harming of non-combatants and treating those we fight inhumanely. The idea of winning over hearts and minds goes back all the way to George Washington and while horrible shameful exceptions have happened through the years its only with the Spoiled Little Brat currently occupying the White House that such behavior has been given an official sanctioned pass. So yesterday when the idle chatter in the room turned to politics at a very similar low intelligence level I told myself that I would keep quiet and just sit in my chair and not alienate the people I work around. But unfortunately, one of the new guys said something and my mouth and some portions of my brain disconnected from the part that kept thinking that discretion is the better part of valor.

The trouble started with the news lady on television reporting about the current Democratic poll results in South Carolina and the standing of Hillary, Obama, and John Edwards in this state. Given the crowd I was around many will be able to guess the comments that went flying about the three. Just about all were along the lines about over hyped and overbearing women, ever so slight racial slurs, and expensive haircuts. I easily kept quiet and made a mental note to buy a lotto ticket so I could at least daydream about expatriating myself from such high level discussions in the future. It wasn't until one of the newer guys made a comment about how he could not understand that while Slick Willy was impeached but was not removed from office. This fellow who will for me be forever be code named "Spanky" was implying that some deal was done to keep him in office even though he had been impeached. The guy next to him murmured some sort of agreement and it was then that I found myself opening my mouth.

I tried to explain to Spanky that articles of impeachment had been draw up and passed by the House. And that President Clinton was tried in the Senate with the Chief Justice presiding over the senate as judge. That it would have taken a two-thirds majority of senators to convict him and only after that would he have been removed. Well, Spanky gave me a look an irritated parent might give a child and he shook his head no and tried to tell me that was not how it worked. Slightly peeved myself now I explained it again and told him to go read the Constitution himself and stop guessing. My stance either forced him to consider he was wrong or that he was dealing with a crazy person. My best guess is that he thought I was crazy because the look he gave me back was something of the look I bet he would given if someone tried to tell him about quantum physics. Spanky did come back and say that either way Clinton had been a naughty sleazy boy and should have been removed. Believe it or not I found myself smiling at Spanky's comeback mainly because it sounded so much like one Senator Larry Craig made years ago about Slick Willy and I won't go any farther than that along that line. I wish I could write that such encounters are rare but I have seen so many around me with wild ideas about the Constitution. One fellow I served with in the Guard thought there was some clause in the Constitution that said you have to serve in the military to be president, another slight at Clinton. Another had some confusion with the British parliamentary government and thought after the 94 election that Clinton would go due to the Republicans taking both houses of Congress. And finally after the 2000 election I can't even begin to describe how many people I talked with who were either insanely happy or mad over finding out about the electoral college and how its works.

Years ago I stumbled on "I, Claudius" on PBS and was quickly drawn into the story, so much so that I went to the library checked it out and read the book by Robert Graves. During one part on the television version an aged Tiberius is speaking with Caligula telling him that "Rome deserves you" because he was so popular with the city but the soon to be dead ruler knew of the younger man's perverted tastes. It was later explained by the host of Great Performances, Alister Cook, that statement was a tongue-in-cheek backhanded slap against the Romans for whom Caligula was very popular. In other words Tiberius was saying the fickle, spoiled Romans would get what they deserve from that monster. I can't help but find myself thinking the same thing concerning so many of the ignorant, asinine people that pride themselves on slapping a magnetic yellow ribbon or an American flag on their car and think how much of a patriotic person they are while they go about ignorant of the basic principles they live under. Even though thousands of Americans and hundreds of thousands of Iraqis have died, civil liberties have eroded, the military service men and women are stretched to the breaking point, and most of the world thinks of us along the same lines as Iran because Junior has felt called by God to spread democracy (Karl Rove type not Jeffersonian) and consumerism to distant lands. No, Junior wants to spread the light of democracy but I somehow find it so easy to talk with people who are blindly ignorant of their own government so at some point, like Tiberius said of the Romans concerning Caligula, we will get what we deserve. I just hope my kids and I have unassed the country before then.