Today (September 28, 2025) is the 18th anniversary of the day I started this blog back in 2007.
When I started I had no idea that I would still be at my post (pun intended) all these years later. Yet here we are, I writing and you reading.
The thingamajig over there in the sidebar shows that I have 140 followers, but most of them are no longer actively participating. There are only a few of you who comment regularly nowadays, but I am not deterred by that fact. So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. Oh, wait, that was Nick at the end of The Great Gatsby.
Some of my early readers are dead and I know it—Dr. John Linna of Neenah, Wisconsin, for exampe, and good old Putz who was really David Barlow out in Utah—and some just faded away like General Douglas MacArthur after he was fired by Predident Harry Truman. And some, I'm sure, took one look and left for greener pastures immediately.
There will be no balloon drop, no blasting of celebratory horns, no high-kicking chorus line. Just a moment of quiet reflection and gratitude for good times gone by and good times yet to come, shared witn an audience I've never met.
Thank you, current crowd (among whom are Janice, Emma, Kylie, Ellen, Terra, Graham, Keith, Tasker, and until she disappeared without explanation, Rachel). We few, we happy few, we band of bloggers.
Year 19 is about to begin. Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines!
Sunday, September 28, 2025
Thursday, September 25, 2025
Join the Navy and see the world, even Narragansett Bay
When my dad married my stepmother in 1958 I gained four step-sibllings: Bobby Gerald (21), Clarence Edward (20), Patsy Louise (17), and Billy Russell (15). I was 17 too, three months older than my new stepsister (but do not wonder, we were not each other's type) and I went overnight from being an only child to being the middle one of five offspring in our newly blended family. Since there was already a Bob in the family, my new stepmother began calling me Bob Jr.; the name stuck and I am still called that to this day.
In 1960 I played the piano for the wedding of Bobby Gerald and his bride Linda, and they recently celebrated their 65th anniversary. The other siblings have all passed on now, as has my stepmother who died in 2004. Mrs. RWP (the lovely Ellie) and I have not been back to Texas since her death but we stay in touch with Bobby and Linda about once a month by telephone.
Recently Linda called to say that while going through some papers in an attempt to do some decluttering she found an old letter I might like to see because it mentioned my Dad around the end of World War II. I asked her to send it to me and it has arrived.
At the upper left of the faded envelope, the return address read:
NAVY DEPARTMENT
_______________
USS PCE 869
c o Fleet Post Office
New York, N. Y.
__________________
OFFICIAL BUSINESS
and the envelope was addressed to:
Mr. Roy Wisner
Corning Glass Works
Central Falls, Rhode Island
There was no zip code because zip codes had not been invented yet.
I didn't recognize the name, neatly typed using an old-fashioned typewriter. I wondered what sort of letter this might turn out to be.
Inside, typed on U.S.S. PCE 869 letterhead, was the following:
24 August 1945
Dear Roy:
This will introduce to you, Clifford Brague, who has just been honorably discharged from the Navy under the point system. For personal reasons, he wants to make his home in Pawtucket or Providence now that he is out of the service, and I have referred him to you with the thought that you could use him in your shop organization.
Aboard ship his work has been in the operation, maintenance and repair of diesel engines and ship's auxilliaries. He has been one of our leading men for some time and his work has been exemplary in every respect. He is completely reliable and his personal integrity is unquestionable. If you have any opening in the organization in which he might fit, I would appreciate your giving him every consideration. You would not regret it, I am sure.
Before coming into the Navy in December, 1942, Mr. Brague worked for the Century Ordnance Plant, in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. His work there was strictly along the machine shop line, in the set up of production jobs for machine operators. In the event that you do not have an opening in the type of work for which he is qualified, you are probably in a position to give him some very good leads on some other good stable organizations in the area. I know you will give him any help possible.
Sincerely yours,
Don Shoemaker
(end of letter)
I know that before the war Dad worked at Dearborn Brass Works in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Perhaps this had become the Century Ordnance Plant mentioned in the letter. Such things were common during the war. For example, the IBM building in Poughkeepsie, New York, where I worked in the 1960s had produced rifles during the war instead of accounting machines. And I know that after our family moved to Fort Worth, Texas, in August 1947 my dad found work at Consolidated Vultee Aircraft (known as Convair, which later became General Dynamics) and held that job until his death in 1967. I never thought about it before, but I have no idea where Dad worked in Rhode Island after leaving the Navy. My mother went to work daily at the Coats & Clark Thread Factory and my Dad went somewhere to work as well, but I have no idea whether Mr. Wisner hired him at Corning Glass Works or he found work elsewhere. A strange gap in my knowledge. I never realized it before.
I do find it very satisfying to learn that my dad received such a glowing recommendation from Don Shoemaker but I am in the dark as to just who Shoemaker was, whether the ship's captain or someone in another position. Whatever else my dad may have been (I have talked about our relationship elsewhere on the blog), he was definitely a hard worker, a man of integrity, and honest as the day is long.
At the end of the war, the USS PCE-869 was sold to the Republic of China (that is, Taiwan) and continued to be of use until it was decommissioned and ultimately scrapped in 1971.
Dad's floating home spent time in both the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, escorting other ships part of the way to the European and Pacific theaters of operation. It traveled through the Panama Canal, and sailed as far north as Greenland. I think he had shore leaves in Portland, Oregon; San Diego, California; south Florida; Norfolk, Virginia; and New York City. His ship was sometimes employed as a "sub chaser" ("sub" being short for submarine). Years afterward, Dad relived in his nightmares the dropping of depth charges and seeing dead bodies floating up to the surface. During Dad's final days in the Navy, his ship was at Quonset Point, Rhode Island.
Below is a photo of the vessel where my Dad and about 80 other men lived and worked from 1943 through 1945:
Uncle Sam wanted him, and he went, enlisting at the age of 36. He was older than the captain of his ship. Most of the guys were half his age and called him "Pop". He talked about the Navy every single day of his life after he left it.
In 1960 I played the piano for the wedding of Bobby Gerald and his bride Linda, and they recently celebrated their 65th anniversary. The other siblings have all passed on now, as has my stepmother who died in 2004. Mrs. RWP (the lovely Ellie) and I have not been back to Texas since her death but we stay in touch with Bobby and Linda about once a month by telephone.
Recently Linda called to say that while going through some papers in an attempt to do some decluttering she found an old letter I might like to see because it mentioned my Dad around the end of World War II. I asked her to send it to me and it has arrived.
At the upper left of the faded envelope, the return address read:
NAVY DEPARTMENT
_______________
USS PCE 869
c o Fleet Post Office
New York, N. Y.
__________________
OFFICIAL BUSINESS
and the envelope was addressed to:
Mr. Roy Wisner
Corning Glass Works
Central Falls, Rhode Island
There was no zip code because zip codes had not been invented yet.
I didn't recognize the name, neatly typed using an old-fashioned typewriter. I wondered what sort of letter this might turn out to be.
Inside, typed on U.S.S. PCE 869 letterhead, was the following:
24 August 1945
Dear Roy:
This will introduce to you, Clifford Brague, who has just been honorably discharged from the Navy under the point system. For personal reasons, he wants to make his home in Pawtucket or Providence now that he is out of the service, and I have referred him to you with the thought that you could use him in your shop organization.
Aboard ship his work has been in the operation, maintenance and repair of diesel engines and ship's auxilliaries. He has been one of our leading men for some time and his work has been exemplary in every respect. He is completely reliable and his personal integrity is unquestionable. If you have any opening in the organization in which he might fit, I would appreciate your giving him every consideration. You would not regret it, I am sure.
Before coming into the Navy in December, 1942, Mr. Brague worked for the Century Ordnance Plant, in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. His work there was strictly along the machine shop line, in the set up of production jobs for machine operators. In the event that you do not have an opening in the type of work for which he is qualified, you are probably in a position to give him some very good leads on some other good stable organizations in the area. I know you will give him any help possible.
Sincerely yours,
Don Shoemaker
(end of letter)
I know that before the war Dad worked at Dearborn Brass Works in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Perhaps this had become the Century Ordnance Plant mentioned in the letter. Such things were common during the war. For example, the IBM building in Poughkeepsie, New York, where I worked in the 1960s had produced rifles during the war instead of accounting machines. And I know that after our family moved to Fort Worth, Texas, in August 1947 my dad found work at Consolidated Vultee Aircraft (known as Convair, which later became General Dynamics) and held that job until his death in 1967. I never thought about it before, but I have no idea where Dad worked in Rhode Island after leaving the Navy. My mother went to work daily at the Coats & Clark Thread Factory and my Dad went somewhere to work as well, but I have no idea whether Mr. Wisner hired him at Corning Glass Works or he found work elsewhere. A strange gap in my knowledge. I never realized it before.
I do find it very satisfying to learn that my dad received such a glowing recommendation from Don Shoemaker but I am in the dark as to just who Shoemaker was, whether the ship's captain or someone in another position. Whatever else my dad may have been (I have talked about our relationship elsewhere on the blog), he was definitely a hard worker, a man of integrity, and honest as the day is long.
At the end of the war, the USS PCE-869 was sold to the Republic of China (that is, Taiwan) and continued to be of use until it was decommissioned and ultimately scrapped in 1971.
Dad's floating home spent time in both the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans, escorting other ships part of the way to the European and Pacific theaters of operation. It traveled through the Panama Canal, and sailed as far north as Greenland. I think he had shore leaves in Portland, Oregon; San Diego, California; south Florida; Norfolk, Virginia; and New York City. His ship was sometimes employed as a "sub chaser" ("sub" being short for submarine). Years afterward, Dad relived in his nightmares the dropping of depth charges and seeing dead bodies floating up to the surface. During Dad's final days in the Navy, his ship was at Quonset Point, Rhode Island.
Below is a photo of the vessel where my Dad and about 80 other men lived and worked from 1943 through 1945:
Uncle Sam wanted him, and he went, enlisting at the age of 36. He was older than the captain of his ship. Most of the guys were half his age and called him "Pop". He talked about the Navy every single day of his life after he left it.
Saturday, September 13, 2025
Don’t blame me, I saw it on Facebook
...and I didn't laugh out loud but my eyes twinkled and I smiled for a long time; it was the sort of low-key humor (British, humour) I love:
A mnemonic for remembering the names of the five Great Lakes of North America:
"Lisa Likes Licking Lettuce Lightly"
Lake Superior
Lake Michigan
Lake Huron
Lake Erie
Lake Ontario
Isn't that helpful?
In the past, American schoolchildren were taught to think of the word HOMES because the names of the lakes are indeed Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie, and Superior. However, HOMES refers to the lakes in random order.
Perhaps one of the following senetences would work better because the lakes are referred to in geographic order from west to east:
Saying Mnemonics Helps Everybody Out
Some Men Hate Exercising Outdoors
Sarah Made Henry Eat Octopus
Spencer Meanly Hid Elizabeth's Oboe
Here's proof:
You are invited to submit your own mnemonic for the names of the Great Lakes in a comment. I will publish it unless it is lewd, crude, rude, salacious, or obscene, in which case it will never see the light of day. I alone will be the judge of what is lewd, crude, rude, salacious, or obscene.
A mnemonic for remembering the names of the five Great Lakes of North America:
"Lisa Likes Licking Lettuce Lightly"
Lake Superior
Lake Michigan
Lake Huron
Lake Erie
Lake Ontario
Isn't that helpful?
In the past, American schoolchildren were taught to think of the word HOMES because the names of the lakes are indeed Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie, and Superior. However, HOMES refers to the lakes in random order.
Perhaps one of the following senetences would work better because the lakes are referred to in geographic order from west to east:
Saying Mnemonics Helps Everybody Out
Some Men Hate Exercising Outdoors
Sarah Made Henry Eat Octopus
Spencer Meanly Hid Elizabeth's Oboe
Here's proof:
Monday, September 8, 2025
English Is Strange (example #17,643) and a new era begins
Through, cough, though, rough, bough, and hiccough do not rhyme, but pony and bologna do.
Do not tell me about hiccup and baloney.
Hello, friends. Something BIG has happened since the last time we met here. I received notification a few weeks ago (as some of you may have) that Microsoft's support for Windows 10 is ending on October 10th and all of us who use it need to upgrade to Windows 11post-haste asap very soon or suffer the consequences. Microsoft took a quick look at my computer's innards and told me that my computer was not upgradeable (is that a word?) because it lacked storage space or speed or something and I would need to get a new computer post-haste asap before October 10th if I expected to keep up with those in the know.
My older son, who is a bit of a high-tech guru, went to work immediately to find a replacement for me. Let me rephrase that. To find a replacement for my computer. Yesterday he came over with a little box about the size of a bar of soap, which he assured me was the entire computer (except, of course, for the monitor, the printer, the keyboard, and the mouse).
So as of yesterday I have a brand new computer equipped with Windows 11. It is made by GEMTEK and is, as I mentioned before, about the size of a bar of soap, a little larger than a computer mouse. Time marches on, and so, apparently, does computer miniaturization.
I remember when computers filled whole floors of buildings. I remember Windows 3, Windows 95, Windows 98, Windows ME (Millenium Edition) 2000, Windows XP, Windows Vista, Windows 7, Windows 8, yada, yada, yada. For that matter, I remember OS/360 PCP, OS/360 MFT, OS/360 MVT, 7090, 1460, 1401. I remember unit record equipment: 024, 026, 029, 083, 407, 552, 557. I remember the 010 for making binary patches to punched card decks. I remember punched cards, paper tape, magnetic tape. I remember carbon paper. I'm so old I remember treadle sewing machines.
So it is not just English that is strange. The whole world is strange nowadays. Don't even get me started on gender dysphoria and the misuse of pronouns.
What do you find strange in today's world (not wrong, necessarily, just strange) given your advanced age?
If you are not of advanced age yet, don't worry. You will get there soon enough.
Do not tell me about hiccup and baloney.
Hello, friends. Something BIG has happened since the last time we met here. I received notification a few weeks ago (as some of you may have) that Microsoft's support for Windows 10 is ending on October 10th and all of us who use it need to upgrade to Windows 11
My older son, who is a bit of a high-tech guru, went to work immediately to find a replacement for me. Let me rephrase that. To find a replacement for my computer. Yesterday he came over with a little box about the size of a bar of soap, which he assured me was the entire computer (except, of course, for the monitor, the printer, the keyboard, and the mouse).
So as of yesterday I have a brand new computer equipped with Windows 11. It is made by GEMTEK and is, as I mentioned before, about the size of a bar of soap, a little larger than a computer mouse. Time marches on, and so, apparently, does computer miniaturization.
I remember when computers filled whole floors of buildings. I remember Windows 3, Windows 95, Windows 98, Windows ME (Millenium Edition) 2000, Windows XP, Windows Vista, Windows 7, Windows 8, yada, yada, yada. For that matter, I remember OS/360 PCP, OS/360 MFT, OS/360 MVT, 7090, 1460, 1401. I remember unit record equipment: 024, 026, 029, 083, 407, 552, 557. I remember the 010 for making binary patches to punched card decks. I remember punched cards, paper tape, magnetic tape. I remember carbon paper. I'm so old I remember treadle sewing machines.
So it is not just English that is strange. The whole world is strange nowadays. Don't even get me started on gender dysphoria and the misuse of pronouns.
What do you find strange in today's world (not wrong, necessarily, just strange) given your advanced age?
If you are not of advanced age yet, don't worry. You will get there soon enough.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)