DID YOU KNOW? ...

DID YOU KNOW?  As you walk up the steps to the building which houses the U.S. Supreme Court, you can see near the top of the building a row of the world's law givers and each one is facing one in the middle who is facing forward with a full frontal view - it is Moses and he is holding the Ten Commandments!

DID YOU KNOW?  As you enter the Supreme Court courtroom, the two huge oak doors have the Ten Commandments engraved on each lower portion of each door.

DID YOU KNOW?  As you sit inside the courtroom, you can see the wall, right above where the Supreme Court judges sit, a display of the Ten Commandments!

DID YOU KNOW?  There are Bible verses etched in stone all over the Federal Buildings and Monuments in Washington, D.C.

DID YOU KNOW?  James Madison, the fourth president, known as "The Father of Our Constitution" made the following statement "We have staked the whole of all our political institutions upon the capacity of mankind for self-government, upon the capacity of each and all of us to govern  ourselves, to control ourselves, to sustain ourselves according to the Ten Commandments of God."

DID YOU KNOW?  Patrick Henry, that patriot and Founding Father of our country said,  "It cannot be emphasized too strongly or too often that this great nation was founded not by religionists but by Christians, not on religions but on the Gospel of Jesus Christ."

DID YOU KNOW?  Every session of Congress begins with a prayer by a paid preacher, whose salary has been paid by the taxpayer since 1777.

DID YOU KNOW?  Fifty-two of the 55 founders of the Constitution were members of the established orthodox churches in the colonies.

DID YOU KNOW?  Thomas Jefferson worried that the Courts would overstep their authority and instead of interpreting the law would begin making law....an oligarchy....the rule of few over many.

DID YOU KNOW?  The very first Supreme Court Justice, John Jay, said, "Americans should select and prefer Christians as their rulers."

How, then, have we gotten to the point that much of what we have done for 220 years in this country is wrong and unconstitutional?
 

Pass the word around the world and let everyone reflect on the ideals that this great country was built on.

A set of caricatures of Paul by Chuck Venturi probably done in 1957 when Paul's soubriquet "Swivel Hips" was used in a newspaper account of the Waterbury-Plainville football game, which Plainville handily won. Here it is...
 
 

A Soldier's Christmas Poem

'Twas The Night Before Christmas,
He Lived All Alone,
In a One Bedroom House
Made Of Plaster And Stone.

I Had Come Down The Chimney
With Presents To Give,
And To See Just Who
In This Home Did Live.

I Looked All About,
A Strange Sight I Did See,
No Tinsel, No Presents,
Not Even A Tree.

No Stocking By Mantle,
Just Boots Filled With Sand,
On The Wall Hung Pictures
Of Far Distant Lands.

With Medals And Badges,
Awards Of All Kinds,
A Sober Thought
Came Through My Mind.

For This House Was Different,
It Was Dark And Dreary,
I Found The Home Of A Soldier,
Once I Could See Clearly.

The Soldier Lay Sleeping,
Silent, Alone,
Curled Up On The Floor
In This One Bedroom Home.

The Face Was So Gentle,
The Room In Such Disorder,
Not How I Pictured
A United States Soldier.

Was This The Hero
Of Whom I'd Just Read?
Curled Up On A Poncho,
The Floor For A Bed?

I Realized The Families
That I Saw This Night,
Owed Their Lives To These Soldiers
Who Were Willing To Fight.

Soon Round The World,
The Children Would Play,
And Grownups Would Celebrate
A Bright Christmas Day.

They All Enjoyed Freedom
Each Month Of The Year,
Because Of The Soldiers,
Like The One Lying Here.

I Couldn't Help Wonder
How Many Lay Alone
On a Cold Christmas Eve
In A Land Far From Home.

The Very Thought
Brought A Tear To My Eye,
I Dropped To My Knees
And Started To Cry.

The Soldier Awakened
And I Heard A Rough Voice,
"Santa Don't Cry,
This Life Is My Choice;

I Fight For Freedom,
I Don't Ask For More,
My Life is My God
My Country, My Corps."

The Soldier Rolled Over
And Drifted To Sleep,
I Couldn't Control It,
I Continued To Weep.

I Kept Watch For Hours,
So Silent And Still
And We Both Shivered
From The Cold Night's Chill.

I Didn't Want To Leave On
That Cold, Dark, Night,
This Guardian Of Honor
So Willing To Fight.

Then The Soldier Rolled Over,
With A Voice Soft And Pure,
Whispered, "Carry On Santa,
It's Christmas Day, All Is Secure."

One Look At My Watch
And I Knew He Was Right.
"Merry Christmas My Friend,
And To All A Good Night."

This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan.

Reunions

Every ten years, as summertime nears, 
An announcement arrives in the mail, 
"A reunion is planned; it'll be really grand; 
Make plans to attend without fail. 

I'll never forget the first time we met; 
We tried so hard to impress. 
We drove fancy cars, smoked big cigars,
And wore our most elegant dress. 

It was quite an affair; the whole class was there.
It was held at a fancy hotel. 
We wined, and we dined, and we acted refined, 
And everyone thought it was swell. 

The men all conversed about who had been first 
To achieve great fortune and fame. 
Meanwhile, their spouses described their fine houses 
And how beautiful their children became. 

The homecoming queen, who once had been lean, 
Now weighed in at one-ninety-six. 
The jocks who were there had all lost their hair, 
And the cheer-leaders could no longer do kicks. 

No one had heard about the class nerd 
Who'd guided a spacecraft to the moon; 
Or poor little Jane, who's always been plain; 
She married a shipping tycoon. 

The boy we'd decreed "most apt to succeed" 
Was serving ten years in the pen, 
While the one voted "least" now was a priest; 
Just shows you can be wrong now and then. 

They awarded a prize to one of the guys 
Who seemed to have aged the least. 
Another was given to the grad who had driven 
The farthest to attend the feast. 

They took a class picture, a curious mixture 
Of beehives, crew cuts and wide ties. 
Tall, short, or skinny, the style was the mini; 
You never saw so many thighs. 

At our next get-together, no one cared whether 
They impressed their classmates or not. 
The mood was informal, a whole lot more normal; 
By this time we'd all gone to pot. 

It was held out-of-doors, at the lake shores; 
We ate hamburgers, coleslaw, and beans. 
Then most of us lay around in the shade, 
In our comfortable T-shirts and jeans. 

By the fortieth year, it was abundantly clear, 
We were definitely over the hill. 
Those who weren't dead had to crawl out of bed, 
And be home in time for their pill. 

And now I can't wait; they've set the date; 
Our fiftieth is coming, I'm told. 
It should be a ball, they've rented a hall 
At the Shady Rest Home for the old. 

Repairs have been made on my hearing aid;
My pacemaker's been turned up on high. 
My wheelchair is oiled, and my teeth have been boiled; 
And I've bought a new wig and glass eye. 

I'm feeling quite hearty, and I'm ready to party. 
I'm gonna dance 'til dawn's early light. 
It'll be lots of fun; I just hope that there's one 
Other person who can make it that night. 

Come Stroll With me...

Stroll with me...close your eyes...and go back before the internet...before bombings, aids, herpes, before semiautomatics and crack...before SEGA or Super Nintendo...way back!

I'm talking about sitting on the curb, sitting on the steps...about malt shops, hide-and-go-seek, Simon says and red-light-green-light.  Lunch boxes with a thermos...chocolate milk, going home for lunch, penny candy from the store, hopscotch, butterscotch, skates with keys, jacks and Cracker Jacks, hula hoops and sunflower seeds, wax lips and mustaches, Mary Jane's, saddle shoes and Coke bottles with the names of cities on the bottom.

Remember when it took five minutes for the TV to warm up. When nearly everyones's Mom was at home when the kids arrived home from school.

When nobody owned a purebred dog.  When a quarter was a decent allowance. When you'd reach into a muddy gutter for a penny.

When your Mom wore nylons that came in two pieces.  When all of your teachers wore neckties and female teachers had their hair done every day and wore high heels.  Remember running through the sprinkler, circle pins, bobby pins, Mickey Mouse Club, Rocky and Bullwinkle, Kookla, Fran and Ollie, Dick Clark's American Bandstand...all in black and white and your Mom made you turn it off when a storm came.

When around the corner seemed far away and going downtown seemed like going somewhere.  Climbing trees, making forts, lemonade stands, cops and robbers, cowboys and indians, staring at clouds, jumping on the bed, pillow fights, ribbon candy, angel hair on the Christmas tree, white gloves, walking to the movie theater, running till you were out of breath, your first haircut, laughing so hard that you stomach hurt...remember that?

Not stepping on a crack or you'd break your mother's back, paper chains at Christmas,  silhouettes of Lincoln and Washington, the smells of school, of past and "Evening in Paris" perfume.

When you got your windshield cleaned, oiled checked and gas pumped without asking -all for free- every time.  You didn't pay for air and you got trading stamps to boot. When laundry detergent had free glasses, dishes or towels 
hidden inside the box.

When it was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner to a real restaurant with your parents.  When the worst thing you could do at school was flunk a test or chew gum.  The prom was in the gym or the lunch room and you danced to a real orchestra.  When they threatened to keep kids back a grade if they failed - and they did it.

When being sent to the principal's office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited the student at home. Basically we were in fear for our lives, but it wasn't because of drive-by shootings, drugs, gangs etc.  Our parents 
and grandparents were a much bigger threat! But we survived because their love was so much greater than the threat.

Remember when people went steady; and girls wore a class ring with an inch of wrapped adhesive tape so it would fit their finger. When no one ever asked where the car keys were because they were always in the car, in the ignition, and the car and house doors were never locked.

Remember playing baseball with no adults needing to enforce the rules of the game. And, with all our progress, don't you wish, that just once you could slip back in time and savor the slower pace...and share it with the children of today?

So send this on to someone who can still remember The Lone Ranger and Tonto, The Shadow Knows, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans, Trigger and Buttermilk...As well as the sound of a real mower on Saturday morning, and summers filled
with bike rides, baseball games, bowling, visits to the pool...and eating Kool-Aid powder with sugar from the palm of you hand.

There, didn't that feel good?  Just to lean back and say:  "Yeah, I remember"

Art Work By Dennis Cox

A City Manager's Dilemma...
Some days are Diamonds, some days are Stone---others are just Bizarre

Bob Bocwinski

The other day I was interviewed over the phone by a reporter regarding an interpretation of our Code of Ordinances.  The Village of Lincolnwood has more Laws than even John Wayne could enforce.  But this situation was definitely different, if not extraordinary!

In the conversation, the "feature" reporter said he would like to write a humorous story about a recent request and our handling of the matter.  Well, I had an obvious concern since I did not want the petitioner to be identified, however with adequate assurances I obliged.  In the resulting article, the reporter summarized my 15 minute interview with a paraphrased quote about "dung attracting flies".  However, as you will see, my "slaughterhouse" statement and our Trustee's summation of the Board's position "made" the story. 

For those who have not dealt with the press/media, it is amazing how often your words never come out the way you said them, or worse, are used to fit the story rather than the story reporting the facts.  In this case, the reporter definitely capsulized the story correctly. 

Obviously, it was a slow day for news in Chicago when we make it on page 2 of the first section with our "Goat Story".  Oh, our Board just loved the photographs! Here's the "Goat" article... 
 

Chicago Tribune Published May 22, 2002 Suburb not kidding: Goat isn't welcome by John Kass         I'm sad to report that Darcy the Goat may face a death sentence if she moves into a Chicago suburb.         If she puts one cloven hoof into the village of Lincolnwood--to live in a nice home with her humans--Darcy could be transformed.         Perhaps into goat stew or a tasty broth, with lemon and parsley, if you will.         "Well, we're not having any livestock in Lincolnwood, OK? That goes for all manner of goats, even Darcy," said Lawrence Froman, a village trustee.         "You allow goats, what's next? Sheep? Chickens? Llamas?" Froman said. "Of course not. You can't have goats wandering in people's back yards. It just won't happen."         The board met the other day and rejected a plea from Darcy's humans. So she will not be allowed to become an upwardly mobile goat.         "I can understand the family cares for the goat," said Robert Bocwinski, the village administrator. "And we treated their request seriously. Unfortunately, the ordinance prohibits goats. Their droppings attract flies."          What if Darcy ignores the village ordinance?         "We'll impound her," said Bocwinski, who grew up on a farm and understands livestock. "We might have to send her to a slaughter- house."          Her full name is Darcy the Medical Goat. She lives in Chicago, in a nice neighborhood, placidly giving milk to her humans.         In late April, Darcy's humans sent a plaintive letter to Bocwinski, asking that an exception be made to the Lincolnwood anti-livestock manifesto.          "Dear Sir," it began. "My husband and I are moving from Chicago and are looking forward to purchasing a $525,000 home in Lincolnwood. My husband is allergic to regular dairy milk, but can drink goat milk. Goat milk is very difficult to purchase, so we have Darcy, a 25-pound milking goat. She is trained like a dog and is kept indoors. I can assure you she would not be a problem.         "Thank you for your time in considering our unique matter. ... Sincerely,  Louise."          But village officials, who are big on pasteurization, determined that there were several supermarkets in the vicinity that offer goat milk.          Louise enclosed her full name, Chicago address and phone number. But I won't release these, as the City of Chicago animal control people might find out and pinch Darcy for themselves.

When we called the city on Tuesday to ask if a goat can be a pet, an animal control employee started asking where Darcy lives. I was a butcher once, but I'm no goat fink.          Let's just say Darcy lives on a leafy street on the North Side, in a sumptuously landscaped two-story wood-frame home. Happily, there is a wrought iron gate and a white wooden privacy fence around the side yard.         On Tuesday, after I spoke to the goat-pestering officials of Lincolnwood, I sent the June bride--who has a master's degree in public affairs reporting--out to interview the goat people.         A thin man of medium height came out of the house and opened what is now known as the goat gate. He said his wife, Louise, was the boss of the goat. He's only the milk drinker in the family.         "We don't want our private life to be brought into the public," he said. "It would cause a huge spectacle. None of the neighbors even know we have her."         Crack reporting determined that the alleged goat is apparently housebroken and goes outside to do its business in the early hours, when the neighbors apparently aren't looking.         The June bride asked him politely, since she drove all the way out there, could she at least see the beast?         "No," he said. "She stays inside like a dog. She goes outside to do her business."          Darcy's humans are wrong, as are the fathers of Lincolnwood, who allow dogs. Goats are nothing like dogs.          For one thing, goats don't lick their privates and then try to lick your face, in dog fashion. What's worse, a goat chewing happily in your back yard, having gentle daydreams of suburban greenery, or a dog desperate to lick your chin?          Cats and birds are no better. At least a goat won't spray your evergreens on a summer morning or eat baby rabbits under your deck. A goat won't deposit a present in your hair. And don't get me started on reptiles.         Other allowable suburban pets include tarantulas, scorpions and ferrets with sharp, razorlike teeth.        Female goats don't bite, slobber or shed. Imagine, if you will, villages and city neighborhoods festooned with grass-trimming goats. This would save taxpayers millions of dollars each year in yard-waste landfill fees, the natural way. It also would make lawnmowers obsolete, thereby saving the environment. Goats also make a nice cheese.          So please, give goats a chance. Copyright © 2002, Chicago Tribune

A little story goes with this article... 

When I received the letter from the Chicago resident, I thought our Board would get a kick out of handling the issue, since it was a little more light-hearted than the recent issues facing the town.  The letter asked for permission to bring a goat named "Darcy" into their prospective Lincolnwood home.

As Mary Lee and I were driving up to Minnesota on Mother's Day weekend, Darcy's owner called me on my cell phone. As I'm trying to have this respectful, inquiring conversation about Darcy the Goat, my wife breaks out  in guffaws of laughter. Although I tried hard to restrain myself and to speak loud enough to cover my wife's laughter, I wasn't completely successful. I suspect I'll be known as the "Goat Gestapo". 

Last year I had better coverage.  I was interviewed by the 4 major Chicago TV stations and an equal number of radio stations and newspapers when the Edens Expressway (I-94) flooded twice in August.  The State (IDOT) was blaming the Village when the interstate was closed for nearly 12 hours on both occasions.  Traffic in the entire Chicago metro area was at a stand-still.

I swear, by the time I retire I'll have enough wacky material to write a book.  Some day I'll share the story  and phone call regarding an investigative reporter from the Boston Globe who was inquiring about the validity of a resident tip that 5 years earlier I had escaped from a Connecticut mental institution.  Or the time a newspaper reported that I said "BULLS__" to a resident.  City Management---it's been a great gig!

Freedom's Forever Worth the Fight 

The follow article written by Don Feder was taken from the Boston Herald, Monday, April 15, 2002, four days before Massachusetts and other New England states celebrated 'Patriots' Day'.
 

We invite you to submit your opinions and comments whether Pro or Con... 

J.R. Theriault

Click on photo to enlarge...

From Joe Dellaquila... Royal R's:  In Caricature Andy Lives!!  This superb art from Joe Dellaquila. Here's Joe's note: "...This is a caricature of the Royal R's that Andy Coppola gave me back in Spring of 1958. I had it framed and it hung in my parents' home for many years until my mother insisted I take it to Calif a few years ago. I thought you might get a kick out of it and the art will bring back some fond memories of Andy. Warmest hugs to you, Joe Dellaquila"  Thanks, Joe!     JRT

LIGHT OF KNOWLEDGE
by Marion Suess

Knowledge is a lively spark,
A flame that glows against the dark
And lightens the blackest night.
Learning is a poisoned pill
That cripples, and then will-kill
Ignorance that blots out light.
A spark of light which grows and grows,
Knowledge is. Ignorance knows
No such rainbow of light.
Knowledge is the light of life;
Ignorance, unwanted strife.
The latter we must always fight.