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*GOING TO JUST STAY ON THE PORCH
 The camp was filled with the normal aromas of a hunting lodge. The holy trinity of cut onions, bell pepper and celery had only minutes before been added to the big black iron pot of well browned speckled belly goose. We would later consume the goose and gravy over rice with a side of butter beans with sausage. The ambiance of the surroundings and the sounds of a low stakes poker game in the corner of the room, a couple of good old boys smoking cigars as they talked about politics and women and a couple of my buddies hovering over the stove had me mesmerized and at once separated me from the structured world around me. 
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A SON OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION
   I had waited impatiently and with much anticipation for the mailman to deliver the package which I had ordered a full six weeks earlier. I had seen the revolutionary war set in a marvel comic book and I just had to have it! I was only seven years old, yet, I had a steady source of income from working at our family grocery store. I was paid three dollars a week to; sweep, mop floors, bag potatoes and dust shelves- and try to stay out of the way. The conceptual drawing on the back cover of the comic book was very much exaggerated. It was nothing like the actual toy soldiers and miniature cannons in the box which I opened.
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 “FABOUS
  
   The branches of the majestic oak tree cloaked the area with shade, protecting the moist ground from the oppressive summer sun. A sturdily constructed shelter was situated there surrounded by a gated hurricane fence. Safety and comfort were available in abundance. I would provide luscious dishes of all sorts of; fresh fruits, vegetables, melons, breads of varying grains and of course cooked rice. I would play my accordion for her and take leisurely strolls through the woods off of Larabie Pitt Road- she wanted for nothing.
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  Hemingway Summer
      The gloriously long summer afternoons never go quietly into the night; rather they fight as a matador in battle with an angry bull. The changing of the seasons is the natural rhythm of the planet and has been pondered by the earliest civilizations in an attempt to interpret our surroundings. The summer solstice occurs on June 21st, it is the day which has the most hours, minutes and precious seconds of daylight of the year. Ancient religious ceremonies celebrating this event were held throughout the world in locations from Stonehenge to Machu Picchu, they all knew that the big orange ball in the sky was the reason for life flourishing on this third rock from the sun. I lived and worked alongside the Maya of the Yucatan peninsula in the 1980’s and was amazed at the importance of the sun god reflected in the hieroglyphs and ruined temples which stood quietly and stoically in the thick jungle. The Egyptians had Ra as the supreme god; he was represented by the sun and was the creator of life
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 WISH A BUCK WAS STILL SILVER
 Merle Haggart wrote a song lamenting for the times when America was still strong. In it he highlights a lot of the true statements about the eroding integrity of the political environment. What was once a code of honor and the word of someone meant everything is now a game of “catch me if you can”. I remember when as a young college student back in the 1980’s, I volunteered to help in the electoral process. I participated in; voter registration drives, helped organize public debates and posted signs for candidates which I supported. Many of the speeches and dog and pony shows were aimed at helping the common man- the farmer, the blue collar worker, the educator, the small business owner and also family values. I guess I am old fashioned, but I agreed then and still do with that philosophy.
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