Family.  It can be defined in many ways.  Yes….. it varies from society to society.  In our country, it is traditionally defined in the parent / children model.

I came from that model.

Although… come to think of it… there really wasn’t anything “model” about it.  The nucleus I know as family is very unique.  Very.

And of course… none of us are models.

But there we are… back together again.  At the very same time…. in one place on this earth-ball of ours.  Celebrating our Dad’s 90th birthday.

We don’t all get together very often.  Years will pass between visits.  Yet.  That common bond continues to exist between us.  The invisible thread.  You can’t really see it in the photo.

Well…. like I just said… it IS invisible.  But trust me… it is there.

I am thankful for my family.  Most certainly… each and every person in it.  I am who I am today, because of them…. in part.  I am grateful to the Higher Power and Universe for that part of my life.

And I cherish the times with family.  Those moments… …. like these.

“Home – is where i want to be
But i guess i’m already there”
-Talking Heads

Now, Giddy on Up….

There’s something about them… those little cowboys.

They ride fuzzy ponies on painted sticks.  That chaw in their cheeks.. Bazooka, not tobacco.  They like to draw circles with their toes in the sand.

They have little rubber boots, adorned with yellow duckies.  But through their dreaming  eyes… those boots are real leather.  And wouldn’t you know it?  Those spurs click when they walk.

They are gun-slinging, law-keeping, white-hatted sheriffs.  Those little fine cowboys.  They know the right way.

They lasso the bad guys.  They tip their hats proudly.  They smile like they did when the buffalo roamed.

Yes… little cowboys… and cowgirls… they are one in the same.  The stars on their chests… shine so bright and so strong.   Right along with their dreams of real horses and spurs.

“Dreams are like the paints of a great artist. Your dreams are your paints, the world is your canvas. Believing, is the brush that converts your dreams into a masterpiece of reality.” – Unknown

Lollapalooza.

Oh. How I LOVE that word.  The word Lollapalooza is a lollapalooza in itself, wouldn’t you say?

It means…. by Polly’s Book of Standards…

“For crying out loud.  Holy Cow! That is Quack-A-Doodle-Doo Great…. We are talking… off-the-charts good!”

By Noah Webster….

lollapalooza |ˌläləpəˈlo͞ozə|noun informal
a person or thing that is particularly impressive or attractive.

Certain things in life are…. lollapaloozas.

But sometimes we have a way of overlooking such things.

Which brings me to my next point.

I think it is a great thing… and an important thing…  to be a “Tourist in Your Own Town.”

Especially in Preble County, Ohio.

Our little town here has so much to offer.  We have 12 Townships… filled with tourist attractions….things that are particularly impressive or attractive.

Covered bridges, Art Centers, Historical Society and Farm, High School Productions, Senior Centers, Zoos, Local Restaurants, Coffee Shops, Hometown Stores, Famous Residents… like Sherwood Anderson and Benjamin Hanby, Festivals, Parades, Fairs, and on, and on.

The most recent addition is the Amphitheater at the Preble County Historical Society.

If you missed the Grand Opening over the weekend, you missed a Lollapalooza of a Good Time!  If you haven’t taken the time to get to know the Historical Society (established 1971), the Farm, and now the Amphitheater… I hope you will become a tourist in your own town.  And very soon.

It is just one of many resources in this little home of ours.  People are pretty quick to point out what is wrong with our Preble County.  Perhaps if we spent the same time and energy…. looking at what is RIGHT… we would be a lot better off.

Maybe if we tried to focus our efforts on making “what is right” ….  even better…  we’d have a real lollapalooza on our hands.

Yes indeedy.

“We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventures we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open.” – Jawaharial Nehru

I like a good circus.

Truth be told… I have never been to a “live” circus.  Never.

I have seen Cirque de Soleil about 5 times, at least.  Yet… the good old fashioned, three-ringed, lions-on-stools, and daring young men on the flying trapeze…. nadda.

I always equate the circus with one of two troupes.

Ringling Brothers, and Barnum & Bailey.  They are one in the same… since 1907.

But the whole deal got its earliest start with a man named Phineas Taylor Barnum.  Coincidently, he was born on July 5th… today’s date.  But way back in the year 1810.

Phineas was a REAL trip, I’ll tell you.  What a character.  He was born in Connecticut and started out, respectably enough.  He founded a weekly newspaper up in those parts. Yet… something was missing.  So he packed up and moved to the Big Apple.

He embarked on his quest for fine entertainment.  The first venture…. was with a variety troupe called “Barnum’s Grand Scientific and Musical Theater.”  Around 1834, or so.

He came up with a whole bunch of hoaxes and human curiosities such as the ‘”Feejee” mermaid’ and “General Tom Thumb.”

That old P.T. was always thinking…..   His museum added America’s first aquarium and expanded the wax figure department.  Who thinks like that, really?

The circus business was the source of much of his enduring fame.

Yes… that goofy Phineas.  He came up with  “P. T. Barnum’s Grand Traveling Museum, Menagerie, Caravan & Hippodrome.”   This thing was not only a traveling circus… it was also a  menagerie and museum of “freaks.”  It was called many different names over the years.

Now here is the funny thing… he came up with all these hoaxes and ways to trick people… in order to make a buck.  Like sewing the head of a monkey on a fish body and calling it the FeeJee Mermaid.

During all of this…. Barnum served two terms in the Connecticut legislature in 1865 as a Republican for Fairfield.   And… still later…. as mayor of Bridgeport, Connecticut  in the 1870s……  Circus Man / Elected Official.

Can you see the parallel here to modern politics?

Okay…. remember that part earlier…. when I said I’d never seen the circus.

On second thought… maybe I have.

Barnum died in his sleep at home on April 7, 1891 and was buried in Mountain Grove Cemetery, Bridgeport, Connecticut, a cemetery he designed.

You know.  In the first Spiderman Movie, the one with geek-boy Toby McGuire and Kirsten Dunst…. there is a great line.

Uncle Ben says it to Peter Parker.

“With Power comes great Responsibility.”  I have quoted it here before.  It is so dang true.

With power comes great responsibility.

Here we are, on the 4th of July.  We celebrate freedom today. Freedom, and Independence are quite powerful indeed.  The United States of America.  Land of the Brave.  Home of the Free.  I wish the next line rang out….

“These are powerful gifts.  Act responsibly.”

I don’t think a lot of Americans really, really, understand freedom.  It gets lost in translation.  It morphs into this “sense of entitlement.”

We are not “entitled” to anything in this life.  Not really.  Any thing can be snatched away at any given moment.

And Rights…  Rights are to be cherished…I think.  And nurtured.  Again, just because we have a “Right”…. doesn’t really mean we can do as we damn well please.

The Bill of Rights is the collective name for the first ten amendments to the United States Constitution. These limitations serve to protect the natural rights of liberty and property.

Yet.  We must have respect and consideration for others.  What I consider my “right”… may be an infringement of  yours.  Hence.  It requires great balance and communication.

If we want it to work.  That is.

So, on this day, we celebrate our Freedom.   Let’s take good care of it.  Share it well.  Live, and let live.  Perhaps it would be good for us be a shining light, an example for others to follow.

“Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves.”
― Abraham Lincoln

Indian Lake.  When we were kids, we used to go to Indian Lake.  Yep.  It was sort of…  our “go-to” family one-day-get-away.  We loved it.

We had an Aunt and an Uncle that lived there.  Mary and Jack. Uncle Ray, and Aunt Ellie, also lived there.  But we “hung” with the Jack & Mary family.  We loved it there.

Now there were seven kids in our family.  So we would pack the car… a station wagon, of course… and head out for the wild blue yonder.  Indian Lake is in Russell’s Point, Ohio.  That is a 64 mile trip.  Now in the mind of a 5-year-old, in a station wagon with 8 other people…. let’s see….

The math works out to about a 11 or 12 hour trip… at least.

Mom would pack a grocery bag filled with bologna sandwiches, slathered with mustard and American Cheese, Fritos, Cheez-Its, Pretzel Sticks… and various other items.

We would try to wait until we got on the highway ramp to eat… but it never worked.  We hit that bag of food pretty early on.  Then we would play 20 Questions, and I Spy.
But the Lake.  We learned things there.  Aunt Mary was a wonderful woman in every way.  She died way too young from Cancer.  She and Funny-Man Uncle Jack had 3 boys.  John, Denis, and Tim.

Those boys knew the lake like the backs of their hands.  They took us out on boats, taught us how to row a canoe, showed the finer points to swimming in a lake.

John was strong, and a leader.  He was sweet, and patient.  Denis had the kind of smile that went right to your heart.  He always made you feel like a true friend.  Tim was my age.  We were Hooligans.  Mischievous. Happy.

They taught me little things.  Like how to use a pocket knife to whittle a stick.  How to tie knots.  Skip rocks.  Those sorts of things.  I loved my cousins.  They were kind, and fun, and generous.  They always seemed to welcome us with open arms.

We had cookouts.  We became proficient in jumping from a boat to the dock.  We played and explored and ventured.  We absorbed the goodness of being with family.  We had the kind of fun that you will never… ever… find in a video game.  We were actually “IN” the adventure.

At the end of the day… we’d pack up the car, and make the long 15 hour drive home to Dayton.  We were all dog-tired, and smelled of lake water.

But it was a good tired.  And a good fishy smell.  I always slept like a log, and dreamed of being on the rippling water, in a boat.

And.  Today.   I found out that Denis died.

I’m sad about that.  We lost touch in adulthood.  Yet, I hold those childhood memories very close to my heart.  It was a special time.  And John, Denis, and Tim … showed  us a side of life we didn’t have in downtown Dayton, Ohio.

I am forever grateful to those three boys.  My cousins at the lake.

And I will miss Denny.  And his beautiful smile.

“Time goes by so fast, people go in and out of your life. You must never miss the opportunity to tell these people how much they mean to you.”
– Unknown

I like to read up on history.  Some of you may have noticed this from time to time.  Now… some days in history… are totally boring and inept.  I’ll find something like…

“On this day in history… the rear spindle for the electrorecaputurlar wheel was invented.”  Super.

Then… some days…. like July the Second… are Whack-A-Doodle-Do Amazing.  Check it.  I will just name some years… and let you judge.

In 1937, that crazy-go-nuts aviator Amelia Earhart and side-kick Fred, disappeared over the Pacific Ocean.  Gone.  Poof.  They were attempting to make the first round-the-world flight at the equator.  I think they didn’t disappear at all.  Amelia landed it.  She was meeting up with someone… on an island.  Betcha.

In 1776, the Continental Congress passed a resolution which said these new colonies here… ought to be… “Free and Independent States.”  Now we have 50.  We get messy at times… but we are still freer and more independent than most.

In 1881, President James A. Garfield was fatally shot.  A bloke named Charles Guiteau did it.  At the Washington railroad station. Chuck was a stalker.

And….1947.. one of my favorites.  Roswell Incident.  Yep.  There was an object flying around in the sky.  It crashed.  Green men came out.   That goofy Army Air Force later said it was a weather balloon.  Eyewitnesses, lots of them, tell it differently.

In 1961.. on of our great American authors,  Ernest Hemingway, shot himself.  Actually, killed himself.  He was only 61.  He was sad.

Way back in 1962, the first Walmart store (called Wal-Mart Discount City) was opened.  Discount City.  In Rogers, Arkansas.  Walton’s Mountain of Savings.

In 1964,    President Lyndon B. Johnson signed into law a sweeping civil rights bill.  Big Day.

And, one more.  In 1976 the Supreme Court ruled the death penalty was not inherently cruel or unusual.  Now you see them.  Now you don’t.

You see what I mean about July 2nd?  Things have happened on this date… and big ones.  I mean… Walmart … for crying out loud.  WALMART!

A big day in history, in deed.

I started my day on the wrong foot.  Shame on me.  Yep.  Woke up on the wrong side of the bed.  Had my britches all in a bunch.  Crabby Appleton, I was.

But then, I was reminded to take notice of the things around me.  Ah.

The things around me.  I could feel them in my heart.  I had to be reminded.

As my day progressed, it became easier, and easier to see the goodness which abounds in my life.

Blessings.  Good fortune.  Lucky numbers.  Call it what you will.  But the more I took notice, the more I saw.

Choirs, and bands.  Hamburgers, and Peanut Butter Ice Cream.  People.  Good people.  Big Rocks on a Grassy Hill.  Ribbons.  Tents.  Cold Water.   Cute Furry Animals.  Friends.  Fireworks.  Dragonflies.

The things around me.  I could see them with my eyes.

So much to be thankful for.

I celebrated much of the day with good friends and loved ones.  Collectively, we commemorated the opening of the Amphitheater at the Preble County Historical Society.

What a great gathering it was.  From start to finish.
As the universe would have it… the word “Amphitheater” comes from the Greek words… “amphi”  — meaning “surrounding, around, on both sides”  AND  “theatron” — which means “place for viewing.”

Ah.  Again.  So I am reminded.

Seeing the things around me.  It makes my heart pound… like fireworks.

Remarkable.  Splendid.  And… Amazing.

“Few are those who see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts.” – Albert Einstein

Tonight I met a Dragonfly.  I think she said her name was Swartzy.  At any rate… I learned  some things about them.

They have six legs… like most other insects.  But most of them cannot walk.  Now this fact struck me right off the bat.  Can any of them walk… and if so… why those?  And not the  others.

Regardless.  Six legs.  Not walkers.

Now flying is a completely different story.  They are crazy good flyers.  They have four wings.  This in itself would take amazing coordination, I would think.

And.  They are fast.  The Dragonfly can soar at 30 m.p.h.  That is pretty snappy for an insect.  I like how they zip around.  To and Fro.  I think that is neat. They can make sharp turns… and fly backwards.

If I were a scientist, I would study this.  Then I would build a plane, and fly it the same way.  I think that would be especially fun.

And here is another whole deal.  Before they become adults… they are known a nymphs.  And they are aquatic.  Once they hit adulthood they begin to fly.  But I think the whole “nymph” thing is cool.  A nymph by definition is  a mythological spirit of nature…. which is imagined as a beautiful maiden inhabiting rivers and woods.  Coolio.   Spirit of Nature.

Yet.  Who knew?  They are great hunters.  Their see in the range of spectacular.  They have two compound eyes, which are made up of 30,000 little eensy-teensy eyes.  I hope they never need glasses.

Finally, they have a lot of “symbolism” attached to them.  They are adaptive.  They are light reflectors.  And, they stand for “deeper thought” and awareness.

The dragonfly is a reminder that when our deeper thoughts rise to the surface we must pay attention – there are lessons to be learned, and we are also reminded that what we think is directly proportionate to what we “see on the surface.”

But the best part is this… their colors are a result of reflecting and refracting the power of light.   Dragonflies are reminders that we are light and can reflect the light in powerful ways if we choose to do so.

Or so they say… those people of symbolism, meditation, and spiritual awareness.

A beautiful creation, no matter how you look at it.

If I were a dragonfly… Oh how I would shine.  And oh how I would fly.

“And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same” – Nelson Mandella

Dependent.

How about THAT word.  It comes in all different shapes and sizes… tenses and forms of speech.  The noun of it, the verb of it… and of course… the adjective.

adjective
1 (dependent on/upon) contingent on or determined by: the various benefits will be dependent on length of service.
2 requiring someone or something for financial, emotional, or other support: an economy heavily dependent on oil exports | households with dependent children.
• unable to do without: people dependent on drugs | [ in combination ] : welfare-dependent families.

Yardy Har Har.  We typically don’t KNOW we are dependent on something… not truly… until it is missing in action.

Yep.  Vamoose.  Hasta La Vista Baby.

Gone but not forgotten.  Over and Out.  Perished.  Depleted. Done. Vanished.  No More.

I am dependent on many, many, many things.

Electric is one of them.  And tonight, mother nature blew it out.  Like a candle.  In the wind.

Oh…. the Geese were honking LOW tonight.

Thank goodness for propane, and a little generator.  And a Sprint Air Card.  Inspector Gadget to the Rescue.

Otherwise, I would not be posting this on the internet tonight.

More like…. I would be telling you all to meet me at the tavern…. for I have something to tell you.

Here ye.  Here ye…..

“When the goose honk high, fair weather; when the goose honks low, foul weather” – Old Proverb