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Showing posts with label fun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fun. Show all posts

Monday, October 27, 2025

Treasure of the Bell


 

If you want to find the treasure of Sir George Henry Nichols,

Then you must keep in mind that woman is fickle.

Ole Captain Outrageous likes his lunch a-la-carte.

So the Cadillac Café seems a fine place to start.


Travel on northward, to the land left to farming.

Across from a place some say was charming.

You will fine famous names written all on the walls.

But you won’t find any in any of the halls.


Here you will find islands with no sea to surround them,

Perhaps you will find ponds with no fish to abound them.

Look to the one northwest of the horse,

Some say it lunar, but that’s just a farce.


Look to the bottom and look to the top.

If first you don’t see it, there’s no reason to stop.

Look at it again and look at it well,

For Sir George Henry Nichols marked it clear as a bell. ©


Happy hunting Mates


Captain Outrageous

Saturday, July 1, 2023

The Hawk Feeder Song (Sang to the tune of "Chantilly Lace')


 

She's a tight wire ace,

With a fuzzy face,

A wiry tale, a curling round,

A wiggle in her walk,

A  squealing in her talk,

Makes us Hawks fly 'round.


Ain't nothin' in the world,

Like a big eyed squirrel,

To make me fly so funny,

Make me feel so sunny.

They make me feel real loose,

Like a long neck goose,

Oh Squirrely, That's what I like........


George Henry Nichols

July 2023

Monday, November 26, 2018

Sleigh Ride: from the collection, "Letter to Jeannie."


What a beautiful Christmas Eve here in Vermont, as the last rays of twilight disappear over the horizon, there is a fresh blanket of snow covering the landscape, but the front has moved though, the skies are clear and the moon full.
I prepare the horses, Frank and Sport, with their finest Christmas harnesses, the ones with the bells. Frank is a fine animal, though stubborn to his core, he stands nineteen hands high, a red beast, with a black mane, tail, boots and eyes. He puts up a bit of a fight as I dress him out and ready him for the sleigh, and the steam from his breath rises up around me as I back him into position, and he lurches his head a bit and neighs in protest.
But Sport, she gives me no fuss, she’s not as big Frank, but smart, and Frank loves her, and will follow her anywhere she goes. Sport’s a palomino, bay with a golden mane and tail, with clear, soft brown eyes. She rests her head on my shoulder as I affix her harness to the draw-bar. Together they make a fine team, Frank to pull the load, and Sport to lead him where he needs to go.
The sleigh is small, green with gold and red trim, and I have polished the runners, so she glides through the snow, like a skater on ice. It has room for only two in the seat, which suits me fine, for I intend to take my best girl, the most beautiful creature in all of Vermont, for a sleigh ride.

Yes, the girl of my dreams is the sweetest girl, of all the girls I know, the gold of her hair, and the blue of her eyes, are a blend of the western skies, and the cream of her skin, and the rouge of her lips are known to have set my soul a fire. Yes, I am dressed in my best, with my beaver coat and felt hat, for tonight, I intend to steal a kiss, from this most lovely lass.
When I knock on her door, she opens it and I ask, “Miss Jeannie, would like to go for a sleigh ride?”
She looks at me sternly, and closing one eye, says, “I think not! You’re a bit old for me,” half kidding, and half wondering.
Yes ma’am, I know, but I cherish your company so, and it is enough… Please.”
Then turning her head away, she blushes a bit, and coyly holds out her hand, and I take this tiny hand in mine, kiss it, and squeeze it gently, and she turns back, looking me square in the eyes and smiling says, “I’d love too.”
Donning her finest rabbit coat and Russian beaver hat, we walk out to the sleigh where Frank and Sport await.




Still holding her hand, I help her into the sleigh, giving her bottom a little pop, looking back; she gives me a glare, and then a mischievous smile, and settles onto the seat.
As I climb up, she looks at me with her soft blue eyes and then looks down and says, “You are going to behave,” then again looking me in the eyes, continues,” are you not?”



Smiling with a wide grin, I reply, “Yes ma’am. I’ll behave.”
I pick up the reins, giving them a snap, and with a jing, jing jingle, and a yank, we are off into the beautiful Vermont countryside. It doesn’t take long and the horses settle into an even stride giving the sleigh a steady rock and the bells take up a rhythm.
As we glide down the lane in the cold, still, night air, the aroma of pine, mixed with the burning of oak and walnut linger in the air, as the smoke from the chimneys rise slowly into the sky. Each of the houses has the twinkling of a Christmas tree in the window, celebrating the birth of our Lord.




The hardwoods stand stark and bare against the snowy landscape, while the evergreens bravely stand against the winter, decked out in all their finery. The dark rocky hillsides contrast the white of the snow, and the river, frozen, runs like a ribbon of satin through the rolling countryside.
I bravely take the reins into my left hand and put my arm around this most lovely creature, and pull her to me, and she in turn snuggles close. A feeling of calm and completeness comes over me, and I have to marvel over the power of this simple girl and the joy and peace she brings to my soul. Surly a creature made by the hand of God, and my soul fills to overflowing, and I begin to laugh, and she looks strangely at me, smiling and giggles, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight with her golden hair bouncing to the rhythm of the bells.





Gliding along the lane, the joy of children’s voices rise over the sound of the bells, for they are gathered outside one of the houses singing carols.

So slowing the pace a bit, we listen.





And their voices fad as we continue down the snow covered lane, we approach Sonora creek, Jeannie shivers a bit and looks at me and as we enter the darkness of the covered bridge, her arms slide in around my waist and she hugs me as the blackness envelops us and sighs with relief, as we exit the other side.



Then with the moonlight bathing us again, she relaxes a bit and looks up at me and for a moment, I see the moon in her eyes and then she says, “I got a bit of a chill.”

Startled, because I was lost in her soft glowing eyes, I reply, “Yes ma’am,” and then winking, “a chill.” I smile.
She smiles softly, putting her head against my shoulder, and on down the lane we go. After a brief while, she begins to elbow me in side and says, “I want to hear those bells rattle!” and giving me a wide grin, “can’t this crate go any faster!”
With that, I give the reins a snap and holler, “Getty up Frank - Sport! Heeeuaaa!!” And with that we are off as the horses pick up their pace and come into a full trot, Jeannie is thrown back in her seat a bit, squealing with glee, her hair flies in the wind as the bells begin to sing.






After a good sprint down the ribbon of snow we come into town, which is a buzz with the sights and sounds of Christmas. All the gas lamps are lit, and many of the homes have candles burning in the windows for their guest. In the town square, there is a huge spruce, decorated for the season. The sidewalks are filled with people in their holiday finery looking in the shop windows and collecting what they need for the big day.




https://youtu.be/zlbSk82UJ6w 



Bringing Frank and Sport to the curb the sleigh comes to a stop. I help Jeannie from her perch, and taking her arm, we walk about the square among the twinkling lights, looking in the windows of the various shops.
As we walk along, I become aware of some children playing in the park, the boys are throwing snowballs at each other, and there are three young girls trying to roll up some snow. Then I see Jeannie taking notice, and I see the glow in her eyes, her hands come together before her and she rises on her toes, and her eyes twinkle, “Those girls are trying to build a snowman.” She says, as though they need help. (In my selfish thoughts, I had brought Jeannie here to walk the square with her, to be seen with her, for she is a beautiful girl, and though I love her, I long to be seen with her as well, but…. Alas, she is young, with much girl still stirring in her soul, and she knows not, she is being displayed, nor does she care…She longs to build a snowman…)
Then let’s give them some help.” I reply.
Yesss…!!!” she says sounding pleased, and like a shot, she is off to the park, with me in close pursuit….
Running up to the girls struggling with the big snowball, “What’re you girls doing?”
We’re making a snowman.” The girls answer.
Can I help?” she continues.
Yea… But he can’t…” they chime in pointing at me, “the boys are mean, tell him to go play with the boys.” The girls agree, with their rules.
Spinning around to me, “Go play with the boys Georgie.” Jeannie says with folded hands, “Pleassseee.”
Well Rats!” I reply a little disappointed, “Okay.” I say giving her a wink, what the hell, so I wonder off towards a bench there in the park. Brushing away the snow, I have a seat, and watch this wondrous creature of mine as she and her new found friends make a snowman. I notice, that Jeannie, being the oldest, gently took charge and in no time, they were rolling up their second ball of snow, and they were laughing and giggling, brief moments of throwing snow at one another, but otherwise working on their common goal.



Smack!!!! (?) I get nailed by a snowball??? I Look around and see a group of boys, grinning at me, each one with a snowball in their hand. I mumble….with increasing volume, ”You realize, this means war…!” and I hop over the back of the bench, as they pelt me with their ammo, but I’m fast and they miss. I quickly set to the task of making snowballs and defending myself. So the battle is on, I’d stand and set one to flying, and then duck the incoming. I was out numbered, but stood my ground, hitting my target far more often than they hitting me, thinking I was ahead bit, I started laughing… but laughing ain’t fighting, and they begin to close in on me, trying to cover my flanks, I’m steadying throwing, nailing one boy after the other, but laughing just the same… Soon they close in, nailing me with one snowball after the other, so ducking down, the incoming increasing numbers and soon I am sitting in a pile of snow, covered in snow, surrounded by my adversaries, being pummeled with snow … The boys are laughing and piling the snow on, as I sit quiet, letting the white drift pile up on me, letting them think they have won.
Soon, they have encircled me, just standing there, wondering what has become of me, who was laughing and fighting so nobility just moments ago and now quiet, and appearing to be no more than a drift. As I peek out thru the crystals, I can see the puzzle on their faces, as they ponder what has happened, and then beyond them, I see Jeannie and the girls have taken notice, and are closing in on the boys, now with their backs turned, each one armed with a big fat snowball.
Grrrrrrrrrrr………!!!!!!!!!” I call out in a loud angry tone as I rise up in a turning motion, like a great phoenix, setting snow flying in every direction, the boys in their surprize, turn to run and are pelted by balls of snow flying in from the rear, as the girls squeal in glee. When the commotion is over… The boys are gone, having fled in every direction, Jeannie and her friends were on their backs in the snow laughing, and I just stood there like a monolith.
But then beyond the girls I see a Snowman. Between the four of them, a fine snowman had been brought to life, to live briefly, but to live…just the same.


So…what’s his name?” I ask as I walk over to have a look. He was really quite handsome, made of three good size snowballs, neatly piled one on the other, his arms were made of sticks, and his coat buttons, eyes and mouth were made of coal, with a carrot for his nose. One of the girls, Veronica, had taken her orange stocking hat and scarf and put it on the man.

I don’t know? We haven’t named him yet.” They seem to chime in together… “What shall be his name?”
How do you know it’s a man?” Veronica speaks up.
We are four girls? Why would we build another girl? It’s a man.” Jeannie says…
Boys build snowmen?” Veronica agues, “So girls build..?? Snow-girls!”
Boys build armies, girls build families.” Jeannie replies…
Hummmm…..” Veronica is thinking, and she scratches her head, Jeannie notices that her hat is gone, on the snowman, and Veronica folds her arms with the cold.
Then Jeannie speaks up, “It’s Veronica hat and scarf on the snowman, it can be whatever she wants.”
He’s a man, and his name is ‘Lucky.’” Veronica announces, and they all smile and hug, I just have to smile…
Come on Jeannie, we got to get going.” Realizing how late it is getting to be. Jeannie turns and looks at Veronica, smiles, and takes the beaver skinned hat off her head, and puts it on Veronica, and then comes to me. “What about your hat, Jeannie?”
What hat?”
Yes ma’am, well let’s go.” And we climb into the sleigh behind Frank and Sport, and with a whistle, we are gliding on through town.





Then as we come to Farmers Gray’s home, there seems to be a bit of a commotion, and we pull in to see what’s up.


We pull up to the little country Church, and secure the horses and go in.





https://youtu.be/ldbvaX6VINo 




With services over we return to the sleigh, giving the reins a snap and shouting to the horses we head home at a brisk pace. Jeannie is laughing and squealing with glee as the bells once again sing out.


We arrive, and Jeannie invites me in to have a bit of hot coca and sit by the fire, she snuggles close and puts her head on my shoulder, and I am just lost there in her company, gazing into the fire, with thoughts of only her.

She turns to me and says, “Tell me a story, Georgie, you know the one.”


 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J-uNQ2oQACk&t=30s 

Your eyes grow wide and you mouth drops open as you exclaim!!! “Georgie!!! What the Hell!! That’s not it!!!”
Well, I thought you were old enough to hear the real version.” I reply, with my famous mischievous smile.




Your eyes narrow and I can see daggers in them, “You are so mean…you are…!!! I’m going to real version your ass!!!” and you pounce on me, tickling me, and we wiggle and squirm about a bit, just enjoying one another's presents.
Now tell it right!!!”
My lower lip comes out, and I wink at you… “Okay.”


Again, we snuggle by the fire.


I lightly grab the back of her hair, and turn her head to steal that kiss, and she struggles, stands, and says firmly, “I think you should be going, Mr. Nichols, it’s getting late,” and she walks me to the door, and there in the threshold hangs a prig of mistletoe.
Standing under it, I say, “Miss Jeannie, I had a wonderful evening, and…. Well…Ahhh… I love you.”
She looks me square in the eyes, and in the most discerning manner, declares, "Watch out, Mr. Nichols, the perv in you is beginning to show."  Then looking down a moment, and blushing, looks back at me, and her eyes soften in the moonlight, and studying my fallen face carefully, she continues, “Why…..? I do believe you do.” And then with a sigh, says, “Now kiss me, and go home.” And she reaches up to me, closing her eyes, offering her lips, as she slowly rises on her toes….I pick her up into my arms, and for a few moments, my life seems to be…where it is going… as I kissed her, and then… the moment gone.
She then closed the door on me, what a strange wondrous creature she is? I sprang to the sleigh, and to my team gave a whistle, and away we all flew, like the down of a thistle, my heart soaring high feeling much like:



Merry Christmas 
Sleep well.
Love
Wolfie



Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Zena Zena


ZENA ZENA, behind the bar,
Fairest bar maid in this town by far!
Long blond silky hair,
And you just watch her toss it, here and there.

But let me warn you, yes beware.
OOOh her skin, is such, so fair.
But be for warned, there’s a thin line,
Ooh that smile, its so fine!

I’ve heard is said on the sly,
Zena Zena is an I R S spy!

She will smile at you and serve your drinks
While asking you, “Do your taxes stink?”
Perhaps your tax man is a fink?”
As the ice hits the glasses. Plink! Plink!

Be careful how you reply.
She makes notes of all the lies.
Asking you, “a drink do you will to buy?”
For the young lady sitting next to you, Oh my!

I’m warning you now, it could be a trap.
Perhaps your telephone she will tap,
As your demise she will map!
Just to put a feather in her hat.

So if you run across her sea green eyes,
And her smile makes your soul fly,
Chances are, Its ZENA! The I R S Spy’
With blond silky hair, ooh I can’t deny.

Z E N A is written right on her butt!
So if you See it! About your taxes, you’d better clam up!
And tell your friends to keep there mouth shut!
Or ZENA and the I R S just may kick your butt!

Fairest bar maid in the town by far,
Is ZENA ZENA – behind the bar! ©



March 10th, 1991
George Henry Nichols

Sunday, December 1, 2013

What to say?



What am I suppose to say… I write, I tell you… And it continues to crumble around you. It’s ‘Revenge of the Innocence…’ Mark my words…

This has nothing to do with politics… This has to do with right and wrong… My mother always said, “The path to hell is paved with good intentions,” and damn if she ain’t right… I am so tied of good intentions and do gooders,  I could urp!

It’s even in the Churches, political correctness has crippled the truth, you get a fiery good sermon, but mediocrity is the rule, ascetics and political correctness the practice.

To think the universe just is… Is like thinking you’re never going to die. It just ain’t so. Your reasoning is, “because time is in the universe, it itself is somehow timeless…” But the math points to a beginning and an end.” It’s everywhere… There is a chemical breakdown going on throughout the universe, one that can not be reversed or regenerated, as a result, the universe is like a candle, and will one day burn itself out. Poof! With no way of recovering the wax… It all went up in flames. And there will be eternal darkness and cold. No way around it. That’s what the math says. Now they theorize, pontificate and on and on about what they think…  and they stick in numbers and give you theories, for they are educated, and they know the numbers, the real ones, and the ones they made up…. or …’do they?’ The way things are made, “if it’s true here, than it’s true there.’ That is to say, if ‘2+2=4 than 4-2=2… ‘If it’s true there, than it’s true here.’ In other words, ‘a cold dark universe lies ahead.’

Now if we stick the biblical story into it. Adam sinned, and brought death into the world… And that’s what it meant, ‘into the world.’ Not only was Adam going to die, but the whole of it…(the universe) was going to die. Believe it or not, that’s what’s going on… That’s what we’re seeing. That’s what the math says.



Consider a fire in the backyard. You’ve got downed tree limbs, cutting from bushes, a pile of died out zinnias from the summer flower bed, and you have a nice little fire, and feed the flames one stick at a time. Soon, all that big pile is ‘gone!’ Where did it go? Up in flames… You have reduced that big pile to a tiny heap of ashes, and in time, that heap of ashes will be ambient temperature.

What do you think the sun is doing..? If it’s true here, than it’s true there.    ‘From ashes thou art…to ashes thou shall return…’

But what about the life cycle? What about it? We have now broken the DNA code, and what have we learned? There is no evolution, there is instead deterioration, the code is slowly but surely breaking down. Poof!  

Myths… funny thing about myths… There’re suppose to be made up? That is to say… not true… But there is a saying, ‘truth will stand the test of time.’ Greek Mythology…? “It’s mythology.” Then they find the city of Troy, and the story appears to be true. They find the site of Sodom and Gomorrah, and then Jericho; they have found the site of the Red Sea crossing, complete with chariots, ect…   So what’s true and what’s not? What about Atlantis? There’s a myth… comes out of the Greek mythology, Homer, Plato…

Then we have the myths of the dragons… Everybody’s got a dragon story, damn dragons are everywhere… Alexander the Great, Marco Polo, St George, who slay the dragon..?  Myth?

‘There is nothing stranger than truth.’ How many times have you heard this? That’s because it’s true… No single man can know or imagine the truth, so when a small bit of truth is revealed, it’s stranger than anything we thought.

Therefore the truly great stories are based on truth, because there is nothing more compelling than the truth… “Truth will stand the test of time.”

The flood of Noah’s day… Every ancient culture around the world starts at the end of a great flood, of which only they survived. Myth? Really? Every major culture? I believe the Chinese calendar may have begun at the end of the flood. If you take an honest look at the geological record, it screams global flood, a flood right around the beginning of the Chinese calendar.
Prier to the flood, the world was a whole different place… How different? I don’t know… But I do know, eight people spanned that flood in a boat… Those eight people saw it all… Those eight people were full blown adults when the flood occurred… Noah was the last strand of the true God handed down by Adam… Satan controlled man now, and corruption was consuming them…

Now let us consider; those eight people told their stories of the world prier to the flood, where they had spent their childhood and much of their lives. This I offer is ‘The Golden Age,’ and it was consumed by the sea… and so it was, right before their eyes, just like the stories say… and no one survived, save those few souls who told the story. The Golden Age is what God destroyed… A utopia, under Satan’s rule.

There is an old B movie called ‘Logan’s Run.’ Not really well done, terrible scrip, but it had a pretty girl in it and so I sat through it. That movie, through all these years has stuck with me.

Basically, it’s the story of a group of people who live inside a huge machine which provides for them. Makes them, grows them up… and then kills them. The cycle of life as seen by a computer… During the time you’re young adults, you can be and do anything you want, (except be a child or be old) when your time is up, your time is up. You’re dead. If you didn’t jump to your death like you’re suppose to, then ‘Logan hunts you down like a dawg and kills you on behalf of the computer. They made the world (as it was) look all hunky-dory, but void of any meaning, absent any purpose.. Well along comes ‘Logan’s’ turn to die… So he runs… and the hunter is being hunted… Well to make a long story short, he cracks the whole machine open and wa-la everyone is free with the discovery of a whole big world outside, how wonderful. (?) or so I thought… In the years since, I have watched you build just such a machine… Return to the Golden Age… Free of responsibility and free to be a jerk… Among the elite anyway.

Want to know what happened to the Golden Age? It’s the gas you put in your car, the oil you put in your engine, the plastics you wrap your food with… the coal you heat your home with and use to generate your lights… The diesel which plows our fields and brings our goods to market… This the world that was…

Satan wants you to long for the Golden Age; but he doesn’t want you burning the oil and coal, least you figure out where it came from… The more you study it, the more will be revealed… “The truth is stranger than fiction.” And all the while, the rebuilding of The Golden Age continues… at a fervor pace.

Satan has you by the balls people… as the new Golden Age rises. I not only speak to America, but to Russia, U.K. Ukraine, Japan, China and to anyone who read these words, Christ is your only hope. He was in the beginning, and he is now, and so it was, and so it shall be. 

George Henry Nichols




Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Hey from Charlotte!




From the collection, 'Letters to Jo Ann.' 

Hey from Charlotte!
Man I glad to be back down in the south where they call 40 degrees cold! I ask them in Maine why they bothered with the zero when it got so much colder than that, they said, “Zero defines the seasons, in the summer it’s above zero, in the winter, it ain’t.” Up in Maine I spit 0n the ground and instead of splat! I got plink, plink, dink, dink, crack, shatter. It’s the only place I’ve been where you can spit in your hand and throw a rock! At least in the south the kids have to find a damn rock before they can throw it. 
It was so cold I had to put the anti-freeze in the coffee, and the engine, you just don’t dare kill it! I sneezed on the guy next to me, and they took him to the hospital for shotgun wounds. 
It was so damn cold you could get a ticket for driving drunk on the lake. Not because you were on the lake, but because you were drunk. The traffic on the lake was so heavy they had traffic signs. ‘Caution, fishing village ahead,’ and you’re miles from shore.
But the people of Maine truly are concerned about your well-being. It got to be about lunch and I was going to go dig around in the trash can for some thing to eat, but Nooooo! They saved me, on the can it said, ‘For Your Good Health, Can Picking Prohibited!’ So I went to a restaurant instead. And they have little signs everywhere, ‘Please Do Not Eat the Yellow Snow!’ Am I a lucky fellow or what, I thought it was banana flavored, but Noooo! Apparently they are saving it for posterity, and here I would have eaten it up!
I had a moose come and sniff up my butt, talk about intimidating, trying to explain to a 1200 pound moose that not only are you not a female, but oddly enough, not a moose at all, and sniffing up your butt would be, well???  Unproductive.
Man, am I glad to be back in the south where no one gives a damn if you dine out of the garbage cans and if you eat the yellow snow, now that’s funny!! Where if you drive on the lake, you use something called a boat!!! And at least in the south, the deer find you intimidating!  ©

George Henry Nichols 

Friday, November 16, 2012

Chances are, I got a Ticket



From the collection (Letters to Jo Ann)

Hey from Bangor,
The weather man said it was going to be ten below zero. What the hell good is a ZERO, if we godda get ten below that! It’s so bloody cold I stopped to take a leak and had to use a cork screw to find my ahhh… then I peed a stalagmite. The state is so hard up for money, on my way back I noticed a sign said, “See natural amber formation, $1.00
Ya know when I bought this truck, they said it had 13 speeds, well I can  find ‘R’, ‘N’ and ‘L’ but I be damned if I can find one that says ‘D’. But one good thing, as an old man, they can’t tell if I’m shiftin’ gears or passin’ gas….???? And….Uhhhhhhhh….. Well???... I ain’t sayin’.
          I passed a trooper pointin’ a hair dryer at me (you know all them troopers got a hair dryer these days) and then he pulled me over. “Can’t you read?? That sign back there says trucks and trailers 55 mph!” I said, “sure I saw it, I got one of each, that’s 110 mph, and I was only doin’ 85.” He said, “Boy! Where did you get your license?” I said, “The Jack Daniels’ School of Truck Drivin’, Coke was my sponsor.” He wrote me a ticket.
          You know I weigh eighty thousand pounds, Eighty thousand pounds goes down hill real good, those little econo cars go pretty fast too when they all pile up on your front bumper going down a steep grade. A trooper pulled me over and said. “You know you’re shoven all them cars down this mountain.” “Just doing my part to conserve energy, sir.” He wrote me a ticket.
          The trouble with those little econo cars, they’re hard to wash off your grill.
I just love to teach them how to spell ‘Peterbilt’ backwards (as it appears in their rear view mirror) right before they’re sucked up into my fan.
          I got lost in a residential neighborhood and picked up a thump, thump, thump. A cop pulled me over and said, “You just ran over a little kid on a tricycle and he’s stuck in your duals!!” I said, “That’s all right. I saw him, he had on a safety helmet, and when I pick up some speed, it’ill throw him out.” He wrote me a ticket.
          A lot of trucks have a sign on them that say, ‘No lot lizards’.
I got one on my truck says, ‘Lot lizards welcome, I need a new pair of boots’.
          I bought a 500 watt CB for my truck, it’s got this button on the mike, when you push it a purdy little lite comes on says “on the air” and everybody can hear ya. But when you let lose of it, a bunch of crappy truck drivers start yakin’. So I got me some duck tape and I just tape that button down, now that purdy little lite stays on all the time, and I just sings my heart out going down the hyway. I know they all like it ‘cause they wave when they pass me by. Some of them use a finger, some no finger at all, but they all wave.
You know this thing got 18 tires. I can blow out 15 before I godda stop. I can scatter rubber and alligators over seven counties, (seven states if I’m up north). A trooper pulled me over and said, “You know you’ve blow’d out all your trailer tires and you’ve been plowin’ up pavement and leavin’ ruts for ten miles!! The road behind you is a mess!!” I said. “That’s okay, the road in front of me is fine.” He wrote me a ticket.
          I pulled onto a scale in West Virginny, and was told to pull to the side and come in. So I did, he said, “you’re 1200 pounds over gross, do you know how much you weigh?” I said, “Now look here! I may not be no prize, but I damn shore don’t weigh no 1200 pounds!” He wrote me a ticket. So trying to lighten things up a little I said, “Show is a purdy state you got here. Satellite Dish yor state flower?” He wrote me another ticket.
          I got stopped by a trooper down south, he got out and said, “Boy, don’t you know you’re in Atlanta!” I said rubbin’ my chin, “Atlanta? Atlanta? I’ve heard of Atlanta, now, now don’t tell me?? It’s a little town, let me think, in, oh yea, in east Texas, in a??? No, wait, give me a minute. In a county?? I know, I know. In a county we call, mmm Georgia.” He wrote me a ticket
          I was sittin’ at a counter in a diner havin’ a bowl of chili, when a trooper came in and sat down next to me. Just about then I ripped a stinker, ‘thubleeeeeiup’ I looked at him and smile while fanning the air a bit and said, “Missed a gear, I guess”. The trooper was looking rather pale and fannin’ the air quite a bit, mumbling something about methane pollution in the 3rd degree, and wrote me a ticket.
          So darlin’, if there is anywhere you want to go, or some’m you want to see, give me a call, chances are I got a ticket.     ©

                                                          George Henry Nichols 

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Girls, The Joy of the World



This essay may seem a little strange, and perhaps on a subject many may see as taboo. Girls. Or girf’s as Carly Shaw would say.

This essay is going to be long, with a number of videos. I request that you view the videos, even if they bore you, hopefully by the end they won’t. Try your best to view them with an opened mind and an open heart, without judgment on what they are wearing or not wearing, or how they move. I did not shoot these video’s, I did not choose the dress, pick the music or lay out the choreography. Some I choose to make a point, others just for the experience.

Anyone who has viewed my profile knows I am a Catholic, and as a Catholic it is impossible for me to have such a discussion without God being the foundation and fabric of the whole. I do not claim to speak for the Church, nor do I represent this essay as teachings of the Church. Instead, with the teachings of my mother and the actions of my father and a reflection of what I have been taught as a Catholic, these are my conclusions.

So in order to lay foundation for an honest talk about girls, we must get an idea of who the woman is.

Let us start at the beginning. (1-26) God created man in his image; in the divine image he created them; male and female he created them. Now it is obvious that he did not create us equal, he created us male and female. But, as to the authority bestowed upon them. Dominion over the birds of the air, the fish in the sea, and all the things that relate to this, he gave to man and woman both. Now I feel the first story of creation was told to make it clear to the reader that God created everything and that he created it from nothing, that is to say, he willed it, and so it was. I think he used the format of seven days because he wanted man to keep track of time, a format we use to this day. Why do you suppose he wanted us to keep track of time?
 


This is a destiny you cannot escape, make friends with it, this is not the way it was meant to be, but this is the way it is! Notice, what do you see, the name of the person and the day they were born and the day they died. Time!!! Your life is made of time!!

Now let us take a look at the second story of creation, (2-18) I feel this story of creation is to make it clear to the reader that we were made personally by God, regardless of what we may learn about the earth and it’s history, mankind was created personally. Now if you listen to the story, ‘remember; words mean things,’ God is the creator and therefore outranks man, (the creation can not out rank the creator), and if you follow the logic of the story, woman is a gift from God to man. Therefore, equal in spirit, but as human beings a man outranks his wife, not women, his wife (a gift can not out rank the recepeant).  But, don’t fret about this idea that your husband outranks you; God knows what he is doing.
Now, where does a gift from God belong? And should it be respected? Remember, this gift is very likely as smart as you are, and perhaps at times even smarter.
Remember from the story, you (the male) are made of clay, she on the other hand, is made of flesh and bone. Right there is a huge difference, which I believe explains a lot about the nature of a woman, to include the sixth sense, which I believe women have, and in recent generations, have been cheated of.
Now, let us take a look at some of things we know.
What did God write about woman, (Proverbs 31-10). Seems God thinks woman to be of great value, considering the great value she brings to her husband. And everyone knows ‘A man is King of his Castle – But a woman rules the roost’.
What else do we know, well we know the Angles have addressed men throughout the bible, and always in such a way that would led you to believe Angles outrank men. Example, When the Angle Gabriel came to Zechariah to announce the birth of John, Zechariah rebuffed him and said, ‘I am an old man, my wife an old woman, how can this be?’ And if you remember, Gabriel became indignant and struck Zechariah dumb, saying in effect, ‘ who do you think you are! You doubt me, Gabriel, who stands in attendance of God, you crummy little human being,’ Zappp!!! He’s dumb, for nine months, until the child (John the Baptist) was born, and Zechariah’s first words after nine months were,’ and his name will be called John.’ Yes, Angles outrank human beings.
But let us consider how that same Angle, Gabriel, addressed Mary when he came to announce the birth of Jesus. “Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women”. Now who sounds like they are of higher rank? Mary? I think so. The only human being I know (outside of Jesus) who outranks Angles. Why? Because she is the Queen of Heaven. By default of who she is, she is the mother of Jesus, and if Jesus is King and unmarried, then by default, his mother is Queen. Now think about this, if we are going to believe that we are children of God, then by default, the women are Princesses. Think about that.
You Catholics, consider for one moment what an absolute joy it must have been to know Mary, the Mother of God as a girl. That’s right, God’s own Mother, the Queen of heaven started as a girl.
Now, if you read my essay, “Yes, I a male chavinist,’ I show how this manifest itself in our lives and the structure of culture.



My mother liked being a woman, she like the power that came with it, and she knew how to use it. Once when I was about five years old, mom wanted a new refrigerator, but dad insisted the old one ran fine. So mom, knowing dad, instead of arguing with him, painted the old refrigerator bright gold, I got to help. It looked grand. Being sixty now and looking back, I’ll bet it was a monstrosity and shortly after that, we had a new refrigerator. Mom knew what she was doing.

Now where do such women come from? Women on whom you can build a great culture, like the Greeks, the Romans, the English?

They come from girls. My mother loved being a girl, she told me all about it, and the great joy that is was. This is key; if women are the gift, then girls are the joy. Girls (created in the likeness and image of Almighty God) are the joy of the world, no if’s, no ands, no buts.  

This paper began with stirrings in my gray matter about 1994, I was well into my forties, running a store in a Mexican flea market. I always had a color TV for sale, and of course it was always tuned to Univision because of who was looking at it.

I came in one morning and turned on the TV and this is what I saw.

‘El Club de los Tigritos’ (Ruge)


A strange thing happened, I was entertained. My spirits were lifted and I felt good about the world. I don’t even speak Spanish. I wasn’t sure why I was entertained, my first response was, ‘you’re a dirty old man if you like this,’ but yet, I’m not, that wasn’t it. But the truth is; I was entertained. I became a fan of the show and during its run, not only was I entertained; I studied it carefully in an effort to understand why I was entertained.

As time went on and I continued to watch the show, the things my mother had tried so hard to teach me began to emerge. Things we use to celebrate in earlier generations.

This is from the generation who fought and won WWII. There was always room for the girl and time to admire her and appreciate her. After all, she is the bud that will become the flower, and then a brick in the cultural wall.


If you ever saw the movie, ‘Meet me in St. Louis,’ then you know it was a romance, but the sheer joy in the movie was provided by Margret O’Brian. She lifts the spirits and heightens the emotional character of the entire film, simply because of who she was, the girl.


Now if God is our foundation and fabric, then we can’t over look Satan. If Christ is real, than Satan is real. Why does Satan hate the human race so much and is determined to destroy it? Because Christ offered us a path to redemption, an offer unavailable to the fallen angels, Satan is already defeated and doomed along with his cohorts.

So Satan is envious of our redemption, but also of our physical being and the reality which goes along with it. We have the joy of being spiritual beings as well as human beings. There are many pleasures available to us which are directly related to the physical reality, like eating, drinking, sleeping, smell, touch, sex and most important, a foundation on which we ourselves can create, the earth and all that’s in it.

Christ said, ‘With man, nothing is possible, but with God all things are possible.’ Has this not proven to be so? Any and everything we have though up, we find what is necessary to make it so, right here in this abundant creation of God’s.

And what is this abundant creation? Contrast. Everything contrasts everything else. You can’t have day without night, you can’t have black without white. Happiness means nothing without sadness, struggle, grief. There is no laughter if there is no crying.  Without despair, there is no joy. Without the male there is no female.

God created us with a balance, (and the two shall be as one, (duhhh.. the children)), man who is made of clay, who is hard, earthy, with his roots deep in the soil that supports him and yields to him, and woman, who is made of flesh and bone, one who is soft, even tempted, a willing servant, a peace maker, a foundation of creation herself, and who can soften the clay and help mold it, care for it, comfort it and inspire it. (She’s really quite the gift).

Now if Satan wants to destroy man, then he needs only to upset this balance. If he can confuse and distort the identity of the man and the woman, or remove woman from the picture, then man will destroy himself. If Satan can steal the joy of the world, then despair will fill that void.

This is just a little girl on the beach, observe her, this is joy bubbling over onto the world around her. Look at her, she is the flower, she wants to be look at and admired, her only desire, to be pleasing, it’s who she is. She is made of flesh and bone.


The little boy on the other hand, will act silly and want attention, but for the most part, wants to play in the dirt. It’s who he is… Let the little boys play in the dirt and let the little girls, be girls.

If you take a close look at what you’ve built, the woman is behaving so much like a man, and so many men acting like girls, how can you tell the different?

Your toys are so abundant and so fascinating, you don’t see each other anymore, you don’t see your kids, you’re staring into a computer, television or a phone. You are distracted.

The beauty of the mating dance, regardless of culture or era, was immortalized in literature. I don’t even see one anymore? How do boys and girls get together? What? With all the cops, lawyers, suits, right down to the first grade, ‘Johnny Kiss me and I’m going to sue!’ 

Everybody’s a dirty old man; you can’t even look at a girl. One false move and you are labeled. It is dangerous to enjoy a girl, who does this sound like to you? If not Satan. Who would want them ignored and shunned, molested and abused, left unattended out of fear to be overgrown and choked off by weeds. To think only of the pleasure of sex, never considering the great potential of creation there in your own hands. The sheer power she gives you, that God gives you.

This following clip made for quite a stir, lots of people yelling about how obscene this was. Child porn I heard it called. (So be cautious)


Let me tell you what I saw. I saw five beautiful little girls give it their best shot. I saw hours worth of work and sore feet and hurt feelings and gallons of tears, and after all that suffering, they got up on that stage and dance that well, for me (considering I’m the audience at this moment), and I ‘m going to say that’s somehow nasty? Who do these people think they are? What are their true motives?

We started out in fig leaves, they’re girls, that’s who they are; they are the joy of the world.

If all you saw was sex, if you thought that was somehow nasty, then Satan has stolen your joy. Because what was actually on that stage was the future, the buildings blocks of a nation, showing you with all their sinew, their beauty, their strength, their ability to work with others, their ability to learn, to count, to understand music, to communicate. Do you think joy is hollow? Joy from God is never hollow. You speak about the depths of despair, have you forgotten the heights of joy? Look at what’s right in front of you.

Jackie Evancho Again, with an open mind and an open heart, if you let her, she’ll reach right into you. Please watch the entire video.

The last time I posted this, they pulled the video, its back, so type   Jackie Evancho, 10 (classical crossover singer) ~ America's Got Talent YouTube Special  into your youtube engine, and you’ll find it. I do not want to offend this girl, this is a great performance.

Not only does she have the voice of an angel, consider all the practice, all the heartache, all the tears and suffering that went into that moment. Notice how well she stood there and accepted the praise and admiration, how honest she was, and even when she bust into tears and cried for the world to see, she held her ground gracefully. She was ten. Rare is the occasion I see this kind of strength among my fellow men.

The bald guy said, ‘She’s a child?’ At the end the judges were truly amazed, not only with her, but with the response of the audience. I have to wonder why? Could it be because they ignore what’s right in front of them, and when a girl makes it all the way to Big Brother, they are overwhelmed?  Do they not understand who she is? The Joy of the world. It’s on this kind of foundation you can build a great culture. This clip goes a long ways to making my point. The great response to her was because of the great joy she brought to them. A natural thing, something we should be filled with. Instead we are filled with other people’s tragedies, the troubles of the world, doom, despair and play with our distractions so we don’t think about it.

Then something like this comes along, lifts your spirits and makes you fell good about the world, and it feels strange, somehow foreign, somehow??? and you change the channel.

Indeed she is foreign, she is from Russia. The reason I choose a few foreign films was hopefully you would not speak the laugange, girls don’t need laugange to be girls, they just are. Look at her, let her sing to you, you’ll be amazed at what she communcates, joy will flow from her. Remember that, when listening to a girl, words aren’t always important. She has a sixth sense. You need only to get to know her.

Katya Ryabova

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I7E99EjtObU 

You have your boats (my weakness), trucks, guns, computers, football, baseball and toys out your ass. That’s fine, but if you want to study something, there is nothing more fascinating than a little girl. She will entertain you, she will challenge you, she will make you think, she’ll puzzle you, she’ll protect you and she’ll care for you like a sick puppy when you’re down or old.

They will protect you, if you get to know your daughters, and teach them, and cultivate them, they will fight to the death for you. That’s why you send them away during times of battle or you take the war to your enemies, so they don’t bring it home to your women, because they will get themselves killed protecting you, and it is your duty to protect what God gave you. Remember, you are made of clay, she of flesh and bone, you are her rock, and she will defend her rock to the death.

Priscilla ‘Cette Vie Nouvelle’


These are the bricks on which you build a culture. Girls, not some gender neutral equal partner. Do not judge her on what she’s wearing or the sexy way she dances; consider instead the creature that is capable of doing this. Yes she’s sexy, yes she’s young, she’s a girl!!! Cultivate her, teach her, rear her, love her, support her, but let her be a girl. Quit trying to change nature, instead give them an outlet. Give the young a mating dance, give them an avenue to get to know each other and appreciate each other. For if there is to be freedom, there first has to be a reason, and you are so tangled in your own tar babies (http://thebiggalootfrom.blogspot.com/2012/07/what-are-we-going-to-do.html) and so distracted by your toys, you have forgotten that reason.  This gift from God is your reason. Think about that, it’s nature; it’s the way God made it. Perhaps as many as 2,500 girls a day are being sacrificed to Satan, he has you not only killing the joy of the world, but your reason to be free, and where there is no reason, there is no will.

Christ said, ‘It would be better for a mill stone to be place around your neck and you tossed into the sea, least you corrupt such as these.’ Referring to the children.  Do not molest them or corrupt them, instead appreciate them, admire them, protect them and let them bring the ‘Joy of God’ into your life.

Just a small town girl, at a small town festival; a beautiful flower in the breeze.


Or a field exploding with color filling the air with the aroma’s of spring.

AKB48 – ‘Baby, baby, baby.’

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNg3mcjhq9w

Consider if these are the building blocks, what a beautiful cultural you could build.

You have already murder some twenty-seven million of your girls since 1973 before they were even born. It has to stop! Abortion has to stop! You will not have the blessings of the Almighty God as long as this continues.

Consider for one moment if you were God, and man was choosing to murder 2,500 of your girls every day, which ones would you let man keep?

Remember, your girls are only as good as you, and you only as good as your girls. Embrace and kiss your wives and daughters and see them for what and who they are. For God will abandon the country which abandons its girls.

Jordan McCoy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rDO_Sgz804M 

Our father’s knew what I’m telling you, and went so far as to tell stories to illustrate the point. One such story is Pollyanna, by Eleanor H. Porter, here brought to life by Walt Disney.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJQSQA2bwgU

If you are so inclined, I think the entire movie is here, and is worth the watch. It is the story of a little girl who transforms a community, preacher and all.  ©

George Henry Nichols