We got up before dawn while it was cool and the air still sweetly humid. We ate some Cheerios, fresh cantaloupe and Italian coffee with half and half. We loaded the guns and ammo and hit the road for Coolidge, Arizona, 60 miles south of Phoenix. Located halfway between Phoenix and Tucson, the City of Coolidge is the commercial center of the Arizona's cotton industry. Coolidge extends to the Casa Grande Ruins and provides an opportunity to witness the amazing accomplishments of the Hohokam. The natural setting provides an excellent introduction to the native Sonoran Desert. Coolidge also boasts a large dairy farm and as a result, thousands of acres of irrigated alfalfa. Chinese Ringneck Pheasants and Chukar Partridge have moved into the alfalfa from neighboring game farms and hence the reason for our day trip to Coolidge and surrounding environs. We cut across the desert on SR287 until we hit the dirt road that ran along the canal. We veered north to the lodge to meet up with the dog handler then headed back west to the clover.
This deserves front stage treatment. A fantastic cover of Dire Straits' Romeo and Juliette by Las Vegas' band The Killers. I caught this on MOJO HDTV but just found it on the 'tube. Here for your listening pleasure ... Romeo and Juliette.
Howard Duane Allman (November 20, 1946 – October 29, 1971) was an American lead guitarist and noted session musician. Allman was born in Nashville, Tennessee. When he was three years old, his family was living near Norfolk, Virginia. His father, Willis, a United States Army sergeant, was murdered on December 26 in a robbery by a veteran he had befriended that day. Geraldine "Mama A" Allman and the boys moved back to Nashville. In 1957 they moved to Daytona Beach, Florida. As a teenager in 1960, Allman was motivated to take up the guitar by the example of his younger brother, Gregg, who had obtained a guitar after hearing a neighbor playing country music standards on an acoustic guitar. Gregg later said that after Duane started playing, "he ... passed me up like I was standing still." Another important event occurred in 1959 when the boys were in Nashville visiting family. They attended a rock 'n' roll show in which blues artist B. B. King performed, and both promptly fell under the spell of the music. Brother Gregg reports that Allman turned to him in the middle of the show and said, "We got to get into this. The Allman boys started playing publicly in 1961, joining or forming a number of small, local groups. Shortly thereafter Allman quit high school to stay home during the day and focus on his guitar playing. Their band the Escorts eventually became the Allman Joys. After Gregg graduated from Seabreeze High School in 1965, the Allman Joys went on the road, performing throughout the Southeast and eventually being based in Nashville and St. Louis. The Allman Joys morphed into another not-completely-successful band, The Hour Glass, which moved to Los Angeles in early 1967. There the Hour Glass did manage to produce two albums which left the band unsatisfied. Liberty, their record company, tried to market them as a pop band, completely ignoring the band's desire to play more blues-oriented material. The Hour Glass songs that are on the first and second Duane Allman Anthologies, as well as the Allman Brothers' anthology Dreams are so radically different from the Liberty releases that they might as well be two different bands. Allman's guitar playing, buried in the 1960s albums, takes on the commanding presence that he later displayed with the Allman Brothers. At this point Allman added electric slide guitar to his repertoire, after hearing Taj Mahal perform the Willie McTell classic "Statesboro Blues", the group featuring Jesse Ed Davis on slide; this was later a signature tune for the Allman Brothers Band. Allman used an empty glass Coricidin medicine bottle, which he wore over his ring finger, as a slide; this was later picked up by other slide guitarists such as Rory Gallagher, Derek Trucks and Gary Rossington of Lynyrd Skynyrd. The Hour Glass broke up in early 1968, and Duane and Gregg Allman went back to Florida, where they played on demo sessions with the 31st of February, a folk rock outfit whose drummer was Butch Trucks. Gregg returned to California to fulfill Hour Glass obligations, while Duane jammed around Florida for months but didn't get another band going. Allman's playing on the two Hour Glass albums and an Hour Glass session in early 1968 at FAME Studios in Muscle Shoals, Alabama, had caught the ear of Rick Hall, owner of FAME. In November 1968 Hall hired Allman to play on an album with Wilson Pickett. Allman's work on that album, Hey Jude (1968), got him hired as a full-time session musician at Muscle Shoals and brought him to the attention of a number of other musicians, such as guitar great Eric Clapton, who later said, "I remember hearing Wilson Pickett's 'Hey Jude' and just being astounded by the lead break at the end. ... I had to know who that was immediately - right now." Allman's performance on "Hey Jude" blew away Atlantic Records producer and executive Jerry Wexler when Hall played it over the phone for him. Wexler immediately bought Allman's recording contract from Hall and wanted to use him on sessions with all sorts of Atlantic R&B artists. While at Muscle Shoals, Allman was featured on releases by a number of artists, including Clarence Carter, King Curtis, Aretha Franklin, Otis Rush, Percy Sledge, Johnny Jenkins, Boz Scaggs, Delaney & Bonnie and jazz flautist Herbie Mann. Shortly after he recorded his lead break in "Hey Jude," he recorded all of the lead guitar in Boz Scaggs' "Loan Me A Dime." His soloing in the song is noted as some of the best he ever laid down on record. For his first Aretha sessions, Allman traveled to New York, where in January 1969 he went as an audience member to the Fillmore East to see Johnny Winter and prophetically told fellow Shoals guitarist Jimmy Johnson that in a year he'd be on that stage; the Allman Brothers Band indeed played the Fillmore that December. The limits of full-time session playing frustrated Allman. The few months in Muscle Shoals were by no means a waste, however, because besides meeting the great artists and other industry professionals he was working with, Allman had rented a small, secluded cabin on a lake and spent many solitary hours there refining his playing. Perhaps most significantly, at F.A.M.E. Allman got together with R&B and jazz drummer Jaimoe Johanson, who came there to meet Allman at the urging of the late Otis Redding's manager, Phil Walden, who by now was managing Allman and wanted to build a three-piece band around him. Allman and Jaimoe got Chicago-born bassist Berry Oakley to come up from Florida and jam as a trio, but Berry was committed to his rock band with guitarist Dickey Betts, the Second Coming, and returned south. Getting fed up with Muscle Shoals, in March Allman took Jaimoe with him back to Jacksonville, Florida, where they moved in with Butch Trucks. Soon a jam session of these three plus Betts, Oakley, and Reese Wynans took place and forged what all present recognized as a natural, or even magical, bond. With the addition of brother Gregg, called back from Los Angeles to sing and replace Wynans on keyboards, at the end of March 1969, the Allman Brothers Band was formed. (Wynans became well known over a decade later as organist with Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble.) After a bit of rehearsing and gigging, the sextet moved up to Macon, Georgia, in April to be near Walden and his Capricorn Sound Studios. While living in Macon, Allman met a woman named Donna, who bore his only child, Galadrielle. Despite their child, the relationship quickly ended. The Allman Brothers Band went on to become one of the most influential rock groups of the 1970s, described by Rolling Stone's George Kimball in 1971 as "the best damn rock and roll band this country has produced in the past five years".[4] After months of nonstop rehearsing and gigging, including fondly remembered free shows in Macon's Central City Park and Atlanta's Piedmont Park, the band was ready to settle on the band name we know and to record. Their debut album, The Allman Brothers Band, was recorded in New York in September 1969 and released a couple months later. In the midst of intense touring, work began in Macon and Miami (Atlantic South - Criteria Studios), and a little bit in New York, on the ABB's second album, Idlewild South. Produced mostly by Tom Dowd, Idlewild South was released in August 1970 and broke ground for the ABB by quickly hitting the Billboard charts.
A group date in Miami, also that August, gave Allman the chance to participate in Eric Clapton's Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs. Clapton had long wanted to meet Allman; when he heard that the Allman Brothers were due to play in Miami, where he had just started work on Layla with producer Tom Dowd, he insisted on going to see their concert, where he met Allman. After the show the two bands—the Allman Brothers Band and Derek and the Dominos—returned to Criteria, where Allman and Clapton quickly formed a deep rapport during an all-night jam session.[5] At one point, Allman cautiously asked Clapton if he could come by the studio to watch. Clapton refused, telling Allman to bring his guitar because, "you got to play." Allman wound up participating on most of the album's tracks, contributing some of his best-known work. Allman never left the Allman Brothers Band, though, despite being offered a permanent position with Clapton. Allman never toured with Derek and the Dominos, but he did make two appearances with them on December 1, 1970 at the Curtis Hixon Hall and the following day at Onondaga County War Memorial.
In an interview, Duane told listeners how to tell who played what: Eric played the Fender parts and Duane played the Gibson parts. He continued by noting that the Fender had a sparklier sound, while the Gibson produced more of a "full-tilt screech".
The Allman Brothers went on to record At Fillmore East, one of the classic live albums of rock and roll, in March, 1971. Meanwhile, Allman continued contributing session work to other artists' albums whenever he could. According to Skydog: the Duane Allman Story, Allman was in the habit of spontaneously dropping in at recording sessions and contributing to whatever was being taped that day. He received cash payments but no recording credits, making it virtually impossible to compile a complete discography of his works.
Duane Allman was killed in a motorcycle accident only a few months after the summer release and great initial success of At Fillmore East. While in Macon on October 29, during a band break from touring and recording, Allman was riding toward an oncoming truck that was turning well in front of him but then stopped in mid-intersection. He lost control of his Harley while trying to swing left, possibly striking the back of the truck or its crane ball. He flew from his bike, which landed on and skidded with him, crushing internal organs; he died a few hours later, less than one month shy of his 25th birthday. [edit]
I was watching this video online and I noticed a spliced resemblance to my best friends Marty and Todd from Wall, SD. Marty has Jerry's good looks and charisma. His hair shakes, women want him. Todd, his technical ability. His fingers touch the right keys at the right time, women want him. It's cool having friends like Marty (1) and Todd (2). Peace brothers.
U.S. Customs and Border Protection Office of Field Operations Freedom of Information Act/Privacy Act, Room 5.5-C 1300 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW Washington, D.C. 20229
Dear FOIA Officer, This letter constitutes a Privacy Act request under the Privacy Act, 5 U.S.C. §552a. I request copies of all information relating to myself contained in the system of records established for the Automated Targeting System (“ATS”). Notice of this system of records (“SORN”) was made in the Federal Register on November 2, 2006 (Volume 71, Number 212, pages 64543-64546). This request letter is accompanied by a completed Request for Records/Privacy Act Release Form. My request is for all information relating to myself referenced in the Categories of Records in the System section of the SORN. Specifically, I am asking for any PNR information obtained from commercial air carriers, any records relating to any risk assessments, the rules used for determining the assessments, any pointer or reference to the underlying records from other systems that resulted in the assessments, any APIS information, and any secondary inspection records. I am requesting these records as is my right under 5 U.S.C. § 552a(d)(1). (See also OMB Guidelines (40 Fed. Reg. 28948, 28957) as well as a 2004 U.S. Department of Justice overview of the Privacy Act, “a requestor need not state his reason for seeking access to records under the Privacy Act …” ) Should CBP provide less than a complete copy of all records relating to myself contained in this system of records, I request a detailed explanation as to the reasons for denying or not fully complying with my request. My full name is: My current address is: My date of birth is: My place of birth is: I promise to pay reasonable fees incurred in the copying of these documents up to the amount of $25. If the estimated fees will be greater than that amount, please contact me before such expenses are incurred. If you deny all or any part of this request, please cite each specific exemption that forms the basis of your refusal to release the information and notify me of the appeal procedures available under the law. I have traveled to and/or from the United States by at least one of the following modes of commercial travel: air, rail, marine vessel, and /or bus carrier and/or by making a land border crossing either by foot or by automobile. Should CBP need my travel information to locate the requested records, please contact me and specify the information you require. Pursuant to 28 USCS §1726, and in compliance with 6 CFR 5.21(d), I declare (certify, verify, or state) under penalty of perjury that the foregoing is true and correct. Executed on this date:
At the bottom of this post is a song by Bob Dylan. It's called Moonshiner. I've titled the post "lagoon" because it represents a place we sometimes reach without our permission.
There's more than one way to kill a cat, break off a relationship or lose a job. I've accomplished all three and the first was the hardest. Cats don't die easy. Relationships can be ended with a simple argument and a job can be lost due to drinking, fighting or cussing in the workplace. Let's talk about the cat. Long, long time ago me and Scott Morgan set a simple trap next to a hole in the wall of a badlands plateau. We didn't even bait it. To our surprise when we returned to check the trap, we'd caught a feral cat. We wanted to set it loose, but you couldn't even get near it without risk of massive and life threatening injury. We decided we would "pacify" it with a well placed blow to the head and once unconscious, release it. The dang cat would not cooperate. It would not pass out. So we ended up killing it to get our trap back. Makes me sick to think about it to this day. Next time, I'll bring a gun. The relationship. I was dating a raven-haired Wall Drug gal from Georgia, but I'd recently been at the Wall Drug pool and met Jeanine. She was tall blond from Fond du Lac Wisconsin and thin with a rack like a ... well, a nice rack. I, like the typical male idiot, decided that the bird in the bush was better than the bird in hand. So, with this in mind, I provoked the raven-haired lass into an argument that I used (cleverly, I thought at the time) to suggest we were incompatible. About two weeks later the blond dumped me for what was in fact, a pencil necked geek from Iowa. Ouch. Karma is real. Losing a job. I had a manager in Minneapolis who was also a personal friend. We played high intensity racquetball once or twice a week. He had a mean serve that I just couldn't get to so I told him if served it at me again, I was going to aim the return at his head. He tried it again, I caught the edge and as he looked back to check my return, the little blue ball hit him, took off his eye protection leaving a black eye. He didn't fire me. He got a better job, kept giving me a hand when I needed it and I served as his best man at his wedding to a beautiful lady. Moral of the story. Killing cats is wrong, arguing with chicks is futile and fighting with your boss on the court of competition is the true path to success. Check it.
after almost two weeks of back and forth banter between the principal partners in this endeavor and an obviously though thoroughly delayed communique to the troops in the field we are bringing the site back to currency in an enhanced format by that we mean an all black and white website we're not going to pull anything down, the archives are yours to treasure instead, we're moving forward by going back enjoy
I got this email tonight and decided to respond. My response is below. If I get more, I'll keep y'all posted.
Compliment Friend,
I have a profiling amount in an excess of Eleven Million, Two Hundred Thousand United States Dollars, which I seek your partnership in accommodating for me. You will be rewarded with Forty Percent of the total sum for your partnership. Can you be my partner on this?
INTRODUCTION OF MY SELF: I am Ms. Kimaeva Lioudmila, a personal secretary to Mikhail hodorkovsky the richest man in Russia and owner of the following companies: Chairman CEO: YUKOS OIL (Russian Most Largest Oil Company) Chairman CEO:Menatep SBP Bank (A reputable financial institution with its branches all over the world).
SOURCE OF FUNDS: The documents of the above fundsin question was handed over to me to be used in payment of an American oil merchant for his last oil deal with my boss Mikhail Khodorkovsky. Already the funds have been deposited some where in Spain (undisclosed for now), where the final crediting is expected to be carried out. While I was on the process,My Boss got arrested for his involvement on politics in financing the leading and opposing political parties (the Union of Right Forces, led by Boris Nemtsov,and Yabloko, a liberal/social democratic party led by Gregor Yavlinsky) which poses treat to President Vladimir Putin second tenure as Russian president. You can catch more of the story on this http://newsfromrussia.com/main/2003/11/13/51215.html
YOUR ROLE: All I need from you is to stand as the beneficiary of the above quoted sum and I will arrange for the documentation which will enable transfer of the sum to you. I have decided to use this sum to relocate to America, Canada and Europe continent and never to be connected to any of Mikhail Khodorkovsky conglomerates. The transaction has to be concluded in 2 weeks. As soon as I get your willingness to comply through my most private email address Reply to:(misskimaprivacy@myway.com), I will give you more details.
Thank you very much
Regards,
Miss Kima Lioud
Miss Kima, Your email comes at an opportune moment. My brother Doug is, like you, mentally retarded and suffers from Drooling Systematic Obligation Propagation (DSOP). As such, he has been exlcuded from the provisions of the US Patriot Act and Articles 16 and 17 of the US Constitution as ratified by the UN Congress of Nations. For this reason, we may be in a position to help you. However, we will need your assistance in moving this project forward. We will need to authenticate your position. If it is at all possible, please donate a minimum of $1000.00 USD to the World Wildlife Fund with Doug the Retard, Oswego Wisconsin as the benefactor. We will require credible, legal evidence of this transaction. If you cannot legitimize the funds, we will accept a PayPal transaction. Next, we will simply ask that you subscribe to the following US publications. The New Yorker, Sports Illustrated, National Geographic and Penthouse. Please use discretion in assigning these subscriptions to the attention of Doug Retard, PO Box 29674, Oswego WI, USA. Please prepay the subscription fees as a sign of good faith. Finally, to determine your ability to meet our needs, please provide descriptions for the following words: 1. Butterscotch. 2. Dingleberry. 3. Spoon. 4. Discharge. 5. Hemorrhage. 6. Sulfur. 7. Prick. 8. Stink. 9. Scam. 10. Fraud. Kima, if your needs can accomodate ours, I think we can do business. There's only one remainig issue. Your ISP is anonymous. Your IP address is unavailable. Don't worry, I've got my best people working on it. We'll track you down in no time. Yours truly, FO dba Frank Olic
PS: Interpol said this was a scam. Say it ain't so, bi-ach.
No. I'm not done. I'm not shutting down the site. I've just been very busy being very busy. The result is neglect. Procrastination, etc. But, that said, how are all of you? Still checkin' in? Good. I write because you read. It's still hot here but cooling as the days pass. I've fully recovered from the Black Widow Spider bite. It hurt like a son of a bitch for a few days but wasn't much worse than an allergic response to a Minnesota wasp sting I suffered in summer 2005. My physician says there's no brain damage. The storm damage from the 2007 monsoon is covered by insurance and I'll have my roof back in shape by December before the winter snows. Structurally speaking, I think it will hold. I got so busy I let the landscaping go. Andy Ramirez and crew will be out next Wednesday to get that back in order. (I mow the front yard but Andy keeps up the back and the weeds - pre and post emergent.) Like I said before, it's still hot here.
I like to get up early on Sunday mornings and take the 60 to the Buckboard Cafe in Superior, Arizona. It's about 30 minutes on the freeway to the highway and then the two-lane into the mountains. The Buckboard is on your right and you can't and shouldn't miss it. I haven't had a better breakfast in years. At 7:30, the place is busy but not full. Most of the weekend patrons are bikers. That tells you all you need to know. Here is good food and a good ride. If you go there, you'll see that both are right. Head east out of town and start the climb up the rim. The road winds and curves and it's hard to stay on it because the view is so cool. You climb on up through the Queen Creek Tunnel and keep an eye on the left for the lady who sells jerky next to the old, abandoned box car diner. Back in Superior, you take a right off the two-lane into the business district. It's deserted. I see a woman and three dogs and then another woman with one dog. Almost all of the businesses are boarded up. The mine up the hill is not productive. The people are gone. Billy Bob Thornton made a movie here but no one cares to talk about it. Like a double-kicked dog. First the mine, then Hollywood. I'll be back in Superior next Sunday. I'll order the short stack, eggs and sausage and grab a coffee to go. I'll drive downtown and take a picture. It will be worth a thousand words.
I resurrected the EFL this year after a two year hiatus. It quickley became a Ball of Confusion. Yahoo lost our draft data due to a server error then "restored" it, but to the wrong teams. League members expressed legitimate consternation. One quit, then rejoined only to quit again within a few short minutes. The league had been "compromised", he asserted in an email. That's not an inaccurate statement under the circumstances, but his was the only franchise to bolt, then suggest he wasn't bolting and then bolt again. The other nine franchises stayed the course, knowing we would figure it out. Today (Thursday), a league member in Michigan recovered the draft data and migrated it to a new site. We began play at night with the teams we drafted at the other site. I had a good night with Peyton Manning as my QB. The franchise owning Reggie Wayne did even better.
So I was trying to rent a 32 foot, two-man scissor lift in Lewisville, Texas for a Tuesday delivery and I needed to nail this down by noon Phoenix time Friday so I could start my holiday weekend. I wasn't having any luck until I got ahold of Orville at S&H Equipment in Euless, Texas. Orville had my lift and could meet my delivery deadline of Tuesday, September 4th. But, he needed a credit application so I asked can I put it on my AMEX. Hell, yeah, he replied - same as cash. Now this alone was a Godsend, but Orville goes on to talk about growin' up in Dallas and his good friend Rhett Miller. I know who Rhett Miller is. Rhett Miller fronted the Old 97's before going solo. Seems Rhett is playing a backyard BBQ in Hurst, Texas in October. Orville said come on over. I just might.
As a newly ordained minister, I'd like to introduce you to my congregational theology, The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster or Pastafarianism as it is more commonly known. The canonical beliefs of Flying Spaghetti Monsterism are set forth by Bobby Henderson in the Open Letter, the Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and on Henderson's web site, where he is described as a "prophet." The central belief is that there is an invisible and undetectable Flying Spaghetti Monster, which created the entire universe "after drinking heavily." All evidence for evolution was planted by the Flying Spaghetti Monster, in an effort to test Pastafarians' faith; a form of the Omphalos hypothesis. When scientific measurements, such as radiocarbon dating, are made, the Flying Spaghetti Monster "is there changing the results with His Noodly Appendage." The Pastafarian belief of heaven stresses that it contains beer volcanoes and a stripper factory. Hell is similar, except that the beer is stale and the strippers have VD. The religious text of the Pastafarian religion is called the Loose Canon. In place of the Ten Commandments, it contains The Eight I'd Really Rather You Didn'ts, which is arguably a somewhat looser moral code. The official conclusion to prayers is "RAmen", contained in certain sections of The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, and so on. It is a portmanteau of the Semitic term "Amen" (used in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) and Ramen, a noodle. While it is typically spelled with both a capital "R" and "A", it is also acceptable to spell it with only a capital R.
Pirates and global warming According to the Pastafarian belief system, pirates are "absolute divine beings" and the original Pastafarians. Their image as "thieves and outcasts" is misinformation spread by Christian theologians in the Middle Ages and Hare Krishnas later, in airports and San Francisco. Pastafarianism says that they were in fact "peace-loving explorers and spreaders of good will" who distributed candy to small children. The inclusion of pirates in Pastafarianism was part of Henderson's original letter to the Kansas School Board. It illustrated that correlation does not equal causation. Henderson put forth the argument that "global warming, earthquakes, hurricanes, and other natural disasters are a direct effect of the shrinking numbers of pirates since the 1800s." A chart accompanying the letter shows that as the number of pirates decreased, global temperatures increased; the absurdity of this demonstrates how statistically significant correlations do not imply a causal relationship (see confounding). In December 2005, Bobby Henderson received a reported USD $80,000 advance to pen The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Henderson said he plans to use the proceeds from the sale of the book to build a pirate ship, with which he may travel the world in order to convert heathens to the Pastafarian religion. The book was released on March 28, 2006 (ISBN 0-8129-7656-8). The Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster is the Pastafarian equivalent of the Bible. It parodies biblical figures with characters such as Captain Mosey, a pirate and the FSM equivalent of Moses. The Gospel contains the aforementioned Eight "I'd Really Rather You Didn'ts." It also provides information on how to convert non-"Pastafarians" and explains many of the religion's beliefs (for example, that lack of pirates causes global warming). The first public exposure of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and its eponymous deity can be dated to January 2005, when Bobby Henderson sent his open letter regarding the FSM and the teaching of intelligent design in science classes to the Kansas Board of Education. Henderson suggested that his theory and intelligent design had equal validity, stating "if the Intelligent Design theory is not based on faith, but instead another scientific theory, as is claimed, then you must also allow our theory to be taught, as it is also based on science, not on faith." The Board only responded after Henderson posted the letter on his website, gaining significant public interest. Henderson subsequently published the responses he received from board members. As word of Henderson's challenge to the board spread, the website and Henderson's cause gathered more attention and support. The mainstream media quickly picked up on the phenomenon as the Flying Spaghetti Monster became a symbol for the case against intelligent design theory in public education. In August 2005, in response to a challenge from a reader, BoingBoing.net announced a $250,000 challenge, later raised to $1,000,000, of "Intelligently Designed currency" by other bloggers, payable to any individual who could produce empirical evidence proving that Jesus is not the son of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, though Jesus is not a part of Pastafarianism. The challenge is modeled after a similar challenge issued by young-Earth creationist Kent Hovind (an award of $250,000 to anyone who can prove evolution "is the only possible way" that the Universe and life arose) that has been criticized by scientists as being logically flawed in design.
She was a pretty girl. Raven black hair. Long nose. Tight clothes on tightrope legs. All of the itinerant buskers and Green River solicitors were after her. Me included.
I'd come down a hard road. Lost my cattle, sold my water and watched the wind take my dirt. I'd had some hard times on both sides of the law and the bad side got me incarcerated. It wasn't so bad, you know. The fellers was all on my side; just another hard-luck case. Like them. Lost at one game or another, never meant no harm.
Long story short, I was let go. Time served. I left in a black wool suit donated via the "Salvation Army". I was given $80 worth of "community vouchers". I had to walk to the bus station. No one picks up a hitch hiker in a black wool suit on very hot day anymore.
Not jumping ahead but I'm just three days away from Mavis ...
But I sold the water first. I had to. Five mouths to feed, chickens, two pigs. No milk for any of them.
Water-wise what I had bought and paid for was 50 feet down to groundwater. I got it. Light, clean and no sicknesses from it. It flowed well so I dammed it and built several overflows downgrade. Planted some trees - plumbs and cherries. Stocked some bass from a friend's dam. My neighbors took notice. I often had water when they did not. They'd homesteaded hilltops without regard for the valleys. Volume over value. Many just made bad decisions while others had plans from the get go. Veterans of previous land grabs, they lined up on this one just like the others. On Monday, October 10, 1913 I visited the County Courthouse in Corson County South Dakota to legally renew my and my brother's aforesaid claim to the acres above the northern branch of the Cheyenne River. I was prevented from entering the Courthouse that day. I was roughed up and tossed and had to be carried home. On Thursday, February 2, 1914, I was served with a felony warrant for the "problem" at the Corson County Courthouse. I had been disorderly and I had even promoted mayhem at some point. As a result, the warrant also stated, I had immediately forfeited all interest, right or title in any homesteaded land I held personally or in corporation with friends or family. Everything. Due to special powers granted the executive office via the Dawes Allotment Act. I learned that late. The applicable statutes and legal opinions. But fortunately, I learned it all while in prison for attempting to register my property at the County Courthouse in Corson County South Dakota.
When I first met Mavis in Hot Springs Arkansas after drifting south for the picking season, I knew she was half or more Indian. I decided to stick around. I'd heard about her brother Marvis getting shot in Fort Pierre. Some chick went down with him. It was big news up on the hill in Sioux Falls. Coming across Mavis was big deal. I realized I'd lost my farm, garden and ponds and was now pretty much a destitute bum. Dang. But, oh God, just look at Mavis ...
A traveling salesman, the road was his life as he Carved a path through all the struggle and the strife of this Great big nation falling to it's knees Oh Lord please give us the strength The World Book was his trade but paint was his tool A Chrysler his engine but the Good Book his fuel Concrete his canvas, his message was simple
And at the start of every day he would pray: Lord, I'm only just one man Lord, I've only got two hands Lord, I'll do the best I can
San Diego to Boston and all points between From Brownsville, Texas up to Canada in the spring From the Great Smoky Mountains to the Bitteroot Range It's all the same Some'd say he's a messenger and some would say a sage Some would say a vandal but I guess it's hard to guage Travel any highway in this land and you can probably catch his track But you won't ever catch him in the act
Lord, I'm only just one man Lord, I've only got two hands Lord, I'll do the best I can
Now one day this world is gonna curl up and burst It's gonna choke on it's own tongue and die of it's own thirst Until that day comes our roads will always be long But he's left signposts to guide us along On overpass columns from Mexico to Maine The color may vary but the message doesn't change He knows he's not judged by his works, he does it just the same
And at the start of every day he would pray: Lord, I'm only just one man Lord, I've only got two hands Lord, I'll do the best I can Lord, help me help them to understand
And just in case you thought we were getting a little week in the knees, what with two cats named Hank (Williams) and Willie (Nelson) and all, here's Austin TX's Slobberbone covering the Beatles' "Don't Let Me Down". Can I get an Amen from my reverent flock?
I almost forgot, the lyrics way above are Slobberbone as well. A Great Texas band that'll stand you for beers at the 400 Bar or cocktails at Stand Up Franks, Lee's Liquor Lounge or Liquor Lyle's in Minneapolis. One or all three. You can cash your paycheck there.
North Dakota is a state in both the Midwestern and Western regions of the United States of America. It is the northernmost of the Great Plains states and is the northern half of The Dakotas which also includes South Dakota. During the 19th century, North Dakota was considered part of the Wild West. Formerly part of Dakota Territory (named after the Dakota tribe of Native Americans), North Dakota became a state in 1889.
Ranne became my employee in February 2007 and my friend soon after that. She took over the day to day. She busted the team into shape. She busted me. Then they discovered a brain tumor. They're gonna shave her head, cut a hole in her skull, lift her brain and remove the tumor today. Then they'll figure out what it is.
Grand Forks is the third-largest city in the U.S. state of North Dakota and the county seat of Grand Forks County. Grand Forks, along with its twin city of East Grand Forks, Minnesota, forms the center of the Grand Forks, ND-MN Metropolitan Statistical Area, which is often called Greater Grand Forks or The Grand Cities.
I come back to the North Dakota connection because I believe where you are from. your sense of place, is an essence of your identity and strength. Ranne has lived everywhere but she's from ND. I'm from SD and she's helped me see the strength in that. And now she's the one having her head examined ...
Starting as a Tropical Depression I quickly graduated to a Tropical Storm heading straight for Puerto Rico. Now it looks like I have a chance to go big time and shave the coast of the Yucatan Peninsula before dropping into the Gulf and intensifying. The Gulf States are apparently at risk. I wonder if this bodes ill for my recent ordination.
I, Douglas E. Hickman, Ordaining officer of the Universal Ministries, do Ordain, Anoint, Appoint, and Select you for placement into our Registry of Ministry. This means that from this day forward, unless you request to be removed, you are a minister with the Universal Ministries. This being said, we welcome you into our Ministries of Universal Acceptance.
As my first official act, I think I'll post this great video. Camper Van Beethoven "Take The Skinheads Bowling". Enjoy and peace be with you.
Click on the picture to make it big. AT&T determines you should "speaky de Anglais" to get the best from your phone. I got a really cool cell phone that works in several languages, even those I haven't had time to learn. For instance, I got a call last night from a gentlemaan who was speaking gibberish. I didn't know the language but the phone seemed to. I could hear him I just couldn't make out what he was saying. I think I'm going to upgrade to a phone that translates.
For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory to give us this day our daily unmade bed. Lead us not down to Steve's Bar, but deliver us from Evel Kneivel. For thine is the Rocket that made it about a hundred feet into the Snake River gorge and was smote with great enmity upon the rocks thereof. Amen. Let the church basement potluck begin. Praise be to the green jello mold with bacon and green beans. Give sweetened macaroni salad with peas unto the meek for they shall inherit great girth. Blessed are the the cheesemakers, for without them there would a scarcity of cheese. Become fishers for Jim. For he who fishes for Jim frees him up for other things. Amen. Awomen. All are welcome at Todd's house and heated pool. Be sure to check with Lori. For she is such that would keep the gate and only welcome the known and washed among us. Much as she should since Todd is indiscriminate. Thus spoke he that speaketh whilst others listened. Intently. Be not unkind to the kindly. Be not weary when thou sleepest for thou art resting even as thou sleeps. Do unto others as you would have them do unto Stuart, who is likened to the Devils who solicit your landscaping with baubles and trinkets at your door. Take communion with the fruit of the banana tree for it is a great source of fiber and potassium. Be free from desire for desire leads to wall to wall carpeting and much additional work. Turn the other cheek often to even your tan, for an uneven tan is an abomination before God and your partner who tans evenly. Above all, respect your elders for one day you also will be elderly and may need to borrow a pair of support hose. Amen.
Howdy folks. Just polishing up my religiosity as I have been asked to officiate at my niece's wedding at the Whisky a Go Go in Los Angeles this fall. That's so long as I get ordained online and officiate in a foreign language. She's partial to Italian and I have been to Italy so I'm something of a local expert on the language and culture. But I'm thinking more in terms of Kalihari Bushmen. You know, with the clicks and the pops and such. Plus it sounds good with banjo.
This is for my favorite blogger and surrogate niece - Holly. X. The band that tore up the Whisky a Go Go, a nightclub in West Hollywood, California, at 8901 Sunset Boulevard on the Sunset Strip.
The Whisky played an important role in many musical careers, especially for bands based in Southern California. The Byrds, Alice Cooper, Buffalo Springfield and Love were regulars, and The Doors were the house band for a while -- until the debut of the "Oedipal Section" of The End got them fired. Van Morrison's band Them had a two-week residency in June, 1966, with The Doors as the opening act. On the last night they all jammed together on Gloria . Frank Zappa's Mothers of Invention got their record contract based on a performance at the Whisky. Jimi Hendrix came by to jam when Sam & Dave headlined. Otis Redding recorded his album In Person at the Whiskey a Go Go there in 1966. The Turtles performed there when their newest (and biggest-selling) single "Happy Together" was becoming a hit, only to lose their new bassist, Chip Douglas (who had arranged the song), to the Monkees; guitarist Michael Nesmith invited him to become their producer. (He returned to the Turtles a year later, to produce them.).Neil Diamond also played at the Whisky on occasion.
Many British performers made their first headlining performances in the area at the Whisky, including The Kinks, The Who, Cream, Led Zeppelin, Roxy Music and Oasis. The Whisky was a focus of the emerging New Wave and punk rock movements in the late 1970s, and frequently presented local acts as diverse as The Germs (which recorded its first album there), The Runaways, X, Mötley Crüe and Van Halen while playing host to early performances by the Ramones,The Dictators, The Misfits, Blondie, Talking Heads, Elvis Costello, XTC and The Jam.
Rapid City Journal (All Rights Reserved) Interior, South Dakota. Recent photgraphic evidence suggests that released black footed ferrets are interbreeding with prairie dogs creating a mutant race scientists are referring to as "ferret dogs". Six ferret dogs have been isolated by state wildlife biologists in the Conata Basin since June suggesting many more exist but have gone uncounted. Federal park employee Norman Eisengeigle reported an encounter with the "gang of six", as the ferret dogs are referred to locally. "I was pulling up on the edge of the buffalo sweet grass plateau, when three of these buggers attacked the front passenger tire. Three more came up from the left and attacked the rear driver's side tire." Norman recounted. "The sound was like a class of kindergartners with sharp scissors. I lost tire pressure at the same time I noticed the ferret dogs was [sic] gnawing on the door handles." Two steel belted radials were shredded. The door handles could not be repaired and had to be replaced. Norman Eisengeigle was so shaken he took two days off and attended to the trauma so suffered at the Badlands Bar in Wall. We caught up with him there. "It was cut, scrape and scratch getting out of there. Them ferret dogs can run faster than a kerosene cat and I took some damage to my pants and boots and calf level epidermis, but when I got to the gravel, they laid off." "I walked south on the gravel. In the hot sun, legs razored up a bit, truck and guns left behind." "I was picked up by Sam Whirlwindhorse and he took me into the Ben Riefel park station. It was only then that I truly felt safe," Norman said. "I can tell you," he continued, "they are a danger to our beloved Prairie Dogs and our peaceful towns, but then I heard the Homeland Security departement was arming them with tiny RPG's and ground mouse commandos. If that's the case, we're in for a long, drawn-out conflict like nothing this country's ever seen before. God help us."
This dude commands a corner on Mill Street wearing a hoodie even when it's blistering hot. He doesn't accept money. I watched from an adjacent pub while he refused all monetary assistance. He's only looking for change. I could surmise that might include an indictment of current US Attorney General Alberto Gonzales for his recent perjury before congress regarding illegal wiretapping of US citizens. Or Gonzales' role in the firing of 9 US Attorneys who had the balls to protect our constitutional rights at the risk of their reputation and livelihood. Just two recent examples of the hubris of our present executive office. I fear terrorism less than I fear usurpation of constitutional rights by our own elected and appointed government officials. Be prepared to apply for your new National Identification Card complete with RFID and GPS. Terrorists and illegals need not apply.
It has now been disclosed after a perfectspy Freedom of Information Act request, that not only are Fish, Game and Wildlife agencies in several western states releasing "thug" populations of vicious Black Footed Ferrets into local peace-loving Prairie Dog compounds, they are training and releasing a species of desert ground mouse that is adept in the operation of a miniature automatic rifle with accompanying grenade launcher and infrared sights.
Pictured here, the desert ground mouse cuddles a modified AK-47 that fires a subsonic, nuclear-tipped, ground penetrating round at up to 2,450 feet per second. Ground mice combatants (or GMC in military parlance), were first released in the Big Horn Wilderness area in Wyoming to counter camper complaints of chipmunk harrassment. They're success in that campaign lead to training for Prairie Dog burrow-to-burrow combat. Initial reports indicate a high ground mouse kill ratio (GMKR). Additional mice have been called up to determine potential success factors (PSF). We will follow this story closely and bring you the news as it breaks.
It's time you were introduced the Henry Chinaski (aka Charles Bukowski). An ugly poet from LA that never made a dime.
Here's a poem.
me and Faulkner
sure, I know that you are tired of hearing about it, but most repeat the same theme over and over again, it's as if they were trying to refine what seems so strange and off and important to them, it's done by everybody because everybody is of a different stripe and form and each must work out what is before them over and over again because that is their personal tiny miracle their bit of luck
like now as like before and before I have been slowly drinking this fine red wine and listening to symphony after symphony from this black radio to my left
some symphonies remind me of certain cities and certain rooms, make me realize that certain people now long dead were able to transgress graveyards
and traps and cages and bones and limbs
people who broke through with joy and madness and with insurmountable force
in tiny rented rooms I was struck by miracles
and even now after decades of listening I still am able to hear a new work never heard before that is totally bright, a fresh-blazing sun
there are countless sub-stratas of rising surprise from the human firmament
music has an expansive and endless flow of ungodly exploration
writers are confined to the limit of sight and feeling upon the page while musicians leap into unrestricted immensity
right now it's just old Tchaikowsky moaning and groaning his way through symphony #5 but it's just as good as when I first heard it
I haven't heard one of my favorites, Eric Coates, for some time but I know that if I keep drinking the good red and listening that he will be along
there are others, many others
and so this is just another poem about drinking and listening to music
repeat, right?
but look at Faulkner, he not only said the same thing over and over but he said the same place
so, please, let me boost these giants of our lives once more: the classical composers of our time and of times past
Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the strength and robustness of the candy as a species. To this end, I hold M&M duels. Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, squeezing them together until one of them cracks and splinters. That is the "loser," and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner gets to go another round. I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. I have hypothesized that the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theater of competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world. Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost invariably this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength. In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment. When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, A Division of Mars, Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 17840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3x5 card reading, "Please use this M&M for breeding purposes." This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms. I consider this "grant money." I have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion.
On July 15, 2007, they pulled the plug on Internet Radio. The corporations that sell you what you see and hear decided Internet Radio was depriving them and their shareholders of much needed revenue. They raised royalty rates for Internet Radio stations beyond their capacity to pay driving them off the cyber-airwaves. No matter, many said. If it doesn't make money it's simply bad business and bad business cannot thrive. But when did art become business? It started with copyright law. Copyright law is constitutionally based.
Copyright law in the United States is part of Federal law, and is authorized by the U.S. Constitution. The power to enact copyright law is granted in Article I, Section 8, Clause 8, also known as the Copyright Clause, which states:
The Congress shall have Power [. . .] To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries.
The U.S. Congress first exercised its power to enact copyright legislation with the Copyright Act of 1790. The Act secured an author the exclusive right to publish and vend "maps, charts and books" for a term of 14 years, with the right of renewal for one additional 14 year term if the author was still alive. The act did not regulate other kinds of writings, such as musical compositions or newspapers and specifically noted that it did not prohibit copying the works of foreign authors. The vast majority of writings were never registered — between 1790 and 1799, of 13,000 titles published in the United States, only 556 were registered.Copyright law has been modified many times since to encompass new technologies such as music recording and to extend the duration of protection.
Note the constitutional language: "securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries."
In this context, the question is who owns the rights? The artist? Not likely in today's market. Michael Jackson bought the copyright to a majority of the Beatles catalog. What influence did he have on the Beatles? None, you say? You are correct, Grasshopper (oops, that might be a copyrighted Kung Fu term!). Corporations reserve rights to the repertoire of new artists to ensure advances against a potential goldmine - U2 is an example of just such a goldmine. Goldmines are hard to come by though and many that show promise come up dry and dusty.
If tended closely, copyright becomes a goldmine for the investor while the artist and listeners starve - actually and artistically. So the investor takes more. Cutting off their nose to spite their face. And the listener uses the internet to steal what was once free or inexpensive. Is he stealing from the artist? With the exception of assholes like James Hetfield of Metallica, the artist's approach is that no, listeners are not thieves. Simply interested in the music. Interested in going to shows and if interested enough, willing to drop $20 on a shiny new CD so they can hear their new favorite artist at the highest audio quality.
I'll end my rant now, but just remember 7/15/07 as the day the music died. Buddy Holly is spinning in his grave.
Don McLean - American Pie
I met a girl who sang the blues And I asked her for some happy news, But she just smiled and turned away. I went down to the sacred store Where I’d heard the music years before, But the man there said the music wouldn’t play.
So I'm downloading the entire Fugazi discography on Xtorrent when after doing so I discover I've downloaded over a gigabyte of .ogg files. What the heck is an .ogg file I ask myself (not out loud - I'm a Lutheran after all). I dial it up on Wikipedia and find out it's cross-platform file format requiring digital conversion or an .ogg player. I don't have or want an .ogg player. I need to convert these buggers to mp3 files to play and record from my iTunes application on my Mac. I go to Google Search and type "convert ogg to mp3 mac". Voila. I find a program called SwitchMac. It costs $24.95, but I can download a 30 day trial for free. I do so. With alacrity. Now I own the entire Fugazi recording catalog. I'm so pleased with myself that I call Ian MacKaye who I first met in a record store near Stazione Termini (the central subway station) in Rome in 1992. He still lives near Washington DC. He still answers his phone. I report my intrepid endeavor. He congratulates me, wishes me well and says "enjoy, my friend".
And I think to my self, what a wonderful world.
Turnover
Editors note: Fugazi was an influential rock band from Washington, D.C., formed in 1987. Their evolution of the hardcore punk genre, combined with their dedication to touring earned them an international audience by the end of the 1980s, despite little recognition in mainstream circles.
The band name alludes to a Vietnam-era GI slang acronym for a particularly bad combat situation, which stands for "Fucked Up, Got Ambushed, Zipped In". In Our Band Could Be Your Life, the group reported that they chose the name because of its ambiguous and vaguely exotic qualities.
Perhaps just as well known as Fugazi's music is their ethical stance and manner of business practice. They stand as a rare example of a band that have achieved a level of mainstream success while remaining loyal to independent recording and distribution values, following through in the spirit of the original "DIY punk ethic". They have rarely charged more than $5–$10 admission to their live shows, insist that their performances be open to persons of all ages (MacKaye in particular remembers the sting of being kept out of clubs during his teen years, which is why he is now vicariously tied to the double-ex's put on the hands of those under 18 at venues that serve alcohol), have kept their album prices at about $10, and do not sell merchandise such as t-shirts or posters. In addition, the band has claimed that they will not conduct interviews with magazines featuring alcohol and nicotine advertisements.
All Fugazi's albums have been released by Dischord Records, co-owned by Ian MacKaye and former Minor Threat bandmate Jeff Nelson.
That's the short. I was born. Survived. Grew larger. Was sent to school. Did fairly well. Went to work. Haven't died yet, but I guess it's next.
In the meantime I smoked a lot of dope, drank booze, had carnal knowledge of some fine ladies and committed a few crimes (never more than a night in jail) and read some books. Bought a paperback copy of Dostoevsky's 'Brothers Karamasov' and checked out 'The idiot' from the library. Read Charles Bukowski and Alan Watts, Sun Tzu and Jack London. When I wasn't reading David Foster Wallace I was checking out Dickens and Twain or sneaking a peek at Cormac McCarthy.
That was school and I carry it forward but eventually, work beckoned. Even while I was in school. I took to work like a schizophrenic - love/hate. Raking and mowing, sweeping floors and cleaning bathrooms, cooking burgers. I was so good I was a supervisor at 17. Now I'm a manager and hire and fire. It's a ball and chain. A burning ring of fire.
But just last night my best friend stopped by and stayed in my home. All that went before put me in a position to offer my friend a comfortable place to stay. Of that I'm proud. I gave him a key to the castle should he pass through when I'm away. I know his family well and I know the door is always open at their ranch(es). They've done it for me several times before. Just makes me realize that however hard it gets - what a pain it is to just get by in today's world, I'm one of the luckiest dudes alive to have friends like these. And just in case, I also gave my friend a key to my truck in case he needs to dip down to Nogales and get the truck while I sweat out a charge in a Mexican jail.
"I swear Mr. Officer Alejandro, sir, I didn't know 600 Oxycontin and six kilos of Mexican schwag was more than the Sonoran State limit regarding cross-border transport. Dude, really? Can I go?"
Just to get back on track here. Centennial nostalgia left behind. Here's some old rock and roll. First up. Led Zepp's Immigrant Song. By the way, everyone in Wall is a decendant of an immigrant.
South Dakota just executed a man. Last Wednesday at 10:00 PM CDT. Two drug 'cocktail'. Dead.
Why?
The killer tortured this guy he knew from Spearfish in a cold-water creek for two hours and with assistance from two others beat him to death. Robbery was the ostensible motive. Who knows how the motive evolved. They crushed his skull with rocks. While the victim, according to the perpetrators, begged for his life. Begged for his life. Begged.
Judge Warren Johnson pronounced a sentence of death.
I spent two years working for Judge Johnson (my nickname was Seldom Seen Dean - guees I was off playing golf or something). If I was to be judged though, I would want Judge Johnson on the panel. He was fair and forgiving, a second chance kind of Judge. I know he knows he made the right decision but I also know that this decision is kicking his ass, personally and publicly. Judge Johnson is a fair man, not a hard man. He is also a strong man who will live with his decision.
I stand with him, but whether it's wrong or right, killing man is like staring at the sun.
by Mrs. Leo Foster Mrs. Chris Willuweit Mr. Leonel Jensen
Beginning of the Town of Wall
In the spring of 1907 a town began to form at Wall, adjacent to the nearly completed Chicago & Northwestern Railroad. The name of the new town was taken because of an abrupt break from the flat prairie land to the rough badlands formations just east of the Townsite. This break forms an eight-mile barrier that had been known as the "Wall" by the cattlemen for many years.
The first building there was a sod shanty, built by Harry Fuller. Though not intended as a cafe, so many persons stopped there that the men put up a table outside the building and served meals. On July 10, 1907, the Hendrickson Land Company opened the sale of town lots on the homesteads of Gene and Bill Mackrill. This date was taken as the birthday of the town and has been celebrated annually ever since. On that day, the first lots sold were on the west side of Main Street in Block 3. Lot No. 1 was sold to Walt Babcock who built a restaurant and hotel, Lot 8 in the center of the block was sold to Charles M. Lewis who built a store, and Lot 16 on the south end of the block was sold to Bill Becker who built a store. The lumber for these buildings was hauled from Wasta as the Railroad was built to there but there was no bridge across the Cheyenne.
The Chicago and Northwestern Railroad was completed between Pierre and Rapid City in 1907. Sometime in May, the two crews, one from Pierre and one from Rapid City, joined the railroad grade. This completed the roadbed work just west of Wall. Art Galbraith tells of the excitement created by this event. Art says that quite a few people were present when the roadbed was finished and that the workmen threw away their shovels. A number of homesteaders picked them up and Art says he still has his.
The rail-laying crews completed their work and the rails were joined from east to west some distance west of Philip on July 10, 1907. An item in the Rapid City Daily Journal describes the event by saying that the last rail was laid at about 4:30 P.M. but that the traditional golden spike was not driven until ten minutes after five. The first through-train from Pierre to Rapid City was on July 14th when a train load of railroad officials made the trip between the two points in twelve hours.
Originally the Depot for the C&NW Railroad was planned on the east side of the railroad tracks on Mackrill land, but a disagreement between Mackrills and the Railroad Company ended in the depot being placed west of the tracks on the Pogendorf homestead. Williams, the first railroad agent, had his office in a box-car. He was succeeded by Briggs, then by F. M. Noe, then by H. M. Hatton, and finally by K. A. Broyles, the present agent. Joe Wall, the original section foreman, gave way to Joe Herink in 1912, in 1941 he was followed by Severt Hoveland, the present foreman.
Other businesses in Wall date back to the beginning of the town. The first blacksmith, Harry Wiley, established himself in 1907, selling that fall to Joe Lynn, who quickly disposed of the business to Herman Schone. Except the four years spent farming his homestead, Schone conducted the business until 1930.
The first Lumber Company was started by Peter Mintner in 1907. This business was taken over by A. C. Kingsbury in 1911. J. H. LeCocq came from Iowa in 1906 and homesteaded but he soon began working for lumber companies, and for many years ran the Kingsbury Hardware and Lumber Company. Ted Whaley also worked in the store for many years. Fred Van Vleck started a second lumber yard in 1932. This business is still active as the Van Vleck Lumber Company, and is operated by Gilbert Van Vleck and son, Gene.
Baldwin and Fallon, were the first Drug Store owners in Wall. In 1907 a drug store was built and operated by Schulz who sold to Charles Nippell. Vern Turner was the next proprietor, the Rovaart, Heine Sebade, and finally T. E. Hustead, who, with his son, Bill, owns the business at the present time.
The first medical man to practice in Wall was Dr. Hutter. Others were Doctors Clark, Standeven, McLaurin, Meissrow, Toon, Adair, and Jernstrom. Dr. G. W. Mills, the present practitioner, opened his office in August of 1919.
The first garage was opened by Joe Knapp in 1915. L. J. (Lee) Dixon, who had worked for Joe Knapp, opened a garage in 1920. Stanley Beck opened a farm implement store on the east side of Main Street, which he ran for many years moving to Rapid City when he was elected Pennington County Clerk of Courts. The Chiak Brothers were also early garage owners. Present garage owners are Szarkowski, Evenden and Stone. Present filling stations are operated by Kennedy, Hoffman, Hustead and Foster.
O. C. Marshall built and operated the first livery barn. Frank Conway was the first Star-route mail carrier out of Wall. He carried the mail from Wall to Pedro in 1907. He lived at Pedro. Other carriers on this route were: Sam Jones, O. C. Marshall (who carried the mail for a time between Wall and Pedro in a Model T. Ford). The low gear clutch band burned out on the Ford one time while he was climbing up the Pedro Hill so he stopped, took off the oil pan, cut a strip of leather from the top of his boot, inserted it as a clutch band, replaced the oil pan and came on into Wall without further trouble. Henry Heutzenroeder, Martin Overholt, Himmelhaun, Frank Richards, Harry Johnson, Carl Pritchard, Fred Lewis, Don Mendenhall, Nick Feller, and Otto Eisenbraun, who is the present carrier. A new Star-route was established between, Wall and Scenic in 1952 at which time it was taken by Edward Hanewinckel who was succeeded by Bryce Kennedy in 1953.
The Wall Post Office was established in 1907 and Dock Shappell appointed as first postmaster, opening up his first office in a small tar papered shack on the west side of Main Street, which later burned with all mail and equipment. Mr. Shappell immediately built a building on the other side of the street for an office, and postmasters followed in this order: J. W. Casselman in 1910, J. E. Witten in 1914, Chas. M. Lewis in 1918, Paul Pulvany in 1920, Mrs. C. A. VanZant in 1921 (Mrs. VanZant died while in the office and Mr. VanZant took over the duties until 1922 when I. D. Winter was appointed. He held the position until 1935 when Lysle Dartt was appointed. He was given Military leave-of - absence during World War II and Mrs. Anna Sebade was named acting- Postmaster, with Marie Dartt as assistant, while he was gone. In 1947 Dayton Sebade was appointed Postmaster and is still serving in that capacity.
In 1908, J. A. Galbraith, one of the 1906 homesteaders north of Wall, petitioned the U.S. Postal Department for two rural mail routes, the one north of town, was established in June 1909, and Mr. Galbraith was appointed carrier. The other route was not established until 1921 and was operated by Herman Sebade, Jr. During World War II Herman took War-leave to work in a Defense plant and John Bielmaier substituted. In 1943 the two routes were consolidated and Art Galbraith retired. Herman Sebade took over both routes. Following Herman's death in 1960, Deane Joyce was appointed and is serving the route now. The first mail service in Wall was of a peculiar kind. When anyone from this section was in Dakota City (the post office address of most of the people near Wall) he would gather together all of the mail for this section and bring it in a grain sack to Wall where it was dumped into a large box in the grocery store and everybody looked through it, picking out his own mail. Wall's mail route was the first in the Western half of South Dakota.
In 1908, the first school, a frame building, was erected. Before that time, school classes had been held in a personal dwelling. In 1928, there was a 3 story brick building erected a block east of mainstreet with a wing added to the North side in 1959 and a south wing added in 1963. There are over twenty-five people employed by the school system at this time.
The first Church, a Methodist, was organized on July 11, 1907, on a bowery floor where a dance had been held the night before. Rev. Ross, a first Congregational Minister, who had a homestead near Conata, walked more than 20 miles each Sunday to conduct services. He was killed in a train accident near Conata and was one of the first people buried in Wall Cemetery. Wall now has three churches Methodist, Lutheran and Catholic.
In 1908 E. S. Johnston purchased a struggling newspaper, the Wall Record, from an editor whose name has been forgotten. Successive editors were Charlie Burnham, Joe Whitten, Paul Viney, Brenner, and Gladwin Hansen. After some years Hansen allowed the paper to die. E. S. Johnston again gave the town newspaper, moving his plant from Quinn and publishing under the title "The Eastern Pennington County Courant". Later the "Eastern" was dropped from the title. "Courant" is a Dutch word meaning paper. The present owner, R. F. Lewis, purchased the paper in 1930.
In 1909 the Cheyenne Valley Electric Company was organized with C. E. Dowling of Sioux Falls, Elmer Hawks, and E. A. Brown, building the original telephone line from Wall to Pedro. About 20 people subscribed to this new telephone service. In 1917 the company was taken over by Mrs. Ethel Herink. In 1918 the Lake Flat Mutual Telephone Company that had been organized in 1908 was purchased by Mrs. Herink and added to her line. In 1954 the Golden West Telephone Cooperative bought the line and added it to an extensive telephone system covering a large area.
In 1907 the Security State Bank was opened. In 1910 the First State Bank was opened. In the fall of that year they united, continuing as the First State Bank. This changed to the Farmers State Bank in 1926. This changed to the Underwood State Bank in 1940, and the First Western Bank in 1962. Among those who have been in charge of the bank have been Kneeland, Kiddoo, Green, Thompson, Witten, John Thoma, Gail Lewis, A. S. Nystrom, Leonel Jensen, Warren Joyce, and Delbert Sebade who is at present the President of the Bank. It is one of the three banks in the county that kept their doors open throughout the banking panic from 1924 to 1932.
An early landmark was the Babcock Hotel built in 1909 after fire had destroyed a smaller hotel built in 1907. It included 40 guest rooms, a barbershop, bowling room, pool room and general store in a twostory frome building. This building was also destroyed by fire in 1918. After the Babcock Hotel burned, Mrs. Hulda Miller started a cafe and ran a hotel in connection with her grocery and dry-goods store.
In 1930 the Gypsy Oil Company of Tulsa, Oklahoma, leased 115,000 acres of land north of Wall for oil-drilling purposes. On May 3, 1931, a well was spudded in with quite a ceremony. Some 10,000 people gathered to see the test well started. Governor Green gave the main address and the Wall Commercial Club handed out barbecued-beef sandwiches. Three steers had been barbecued the night before. During the summer the well was drilled to nearly 6000 feet. A complete log of their operations was kept and filed with the Geology Department of the University of South Dakota. It was capped and abandoned.
The first elevator in Wall was built in 1910 by the Tri-State Milling Company. It was operated for many years by John Harnden, later by Joe Wilson, then Earl Johnson was manager, later on Lynden Bansey, then Han Hamann took over, and still later Edward Hanewinckel. Its present manager is Dwight Norman. In 1930 the farmers around Wall organized a company and built an elevator. They sold this to E. C. Smoot in 1931 and he in turn sold it to Ralph Ivins. In 1962 Ivins sold his elevator to the Tri-State, so both elevators operate under one management.
Other businesses of the early days were: A dray line operated by R. A. Scheer, who had homesteaded earlier; a harness and repair shop operated by homesteaders Frank Patterson and Eric Gorseth; later on shoe shops were run by Mike Hawley, Frank Kruse and Joe Larson: Barber shops were run by Safken, Shorty Wilmus, Bill Thompson, Sam Johnson, Cotton Johnson, and Lynn Williams is the present barber.
Joe Bielmaier was the Fire Chief and handy man about town for many years. He was manager of the town water-pumping station for many years, walking each day to the old town-dam where the water pumps were located and he never let the water supply tank get low. Howard Connolly took over Joe's job as Fire Chief in 1932 and held it until 1964. During Howard's last year as Fire Chief, a new Fire Hall was built and dedicated "Howard Connolly Fire Hall", at which time Howard retired and Max Hauk became present Chief.
Dave Whitwer and Gene Miller began short and long distance trucking about 1930 and Dave is still trucking.
The town had some early attorneys. Both E. S. Johnston and Judge Thomas Conniff were in Wall about 1908.
J. F. Street owned the Street Hardware on Main Street; Carl Lurz owned a Hardware Store on Main Street. Jim LeCocq and Vern Kingsbury, Lysle and Norris Dartt were some other hardware store owners and the present day owners are Bud Estes and Dick Van Vleck.
The business name, W. H. and H. E. Miller was familiar to everyone in the early history of Wall. W. H. Miller, a Civil War Veteran sent his son, Frank, to the territory in 1903. Frank took a Soldier's Declaration for his father, a procedure somewhat similar to filing a claim, and in 1906 Mr. Miller came to the country and filed a claim on a quarter section adjoining the town on the northeast. Mrs. Miller joined him in 1907 and for a time they tried their hands at farming. It was on this place that one of the first wells in town was drilled. It was 110 foot bored well two and one-half feet in diameter and dug with a horse drilling rig by Louis Jenson.
In 1909 Mrs. Miller opened a small millinery shop. In 1912 the Millers leased their farm to R. A. Scheer and went into the store and hotel business. They expanded this business into the well-known Miller Hotel with accommodations for 43 guests. This building now houses Beaches Cactus Cafe and Lounge.
For years Fred Lewis owned and operated the Minneapolis Moline Farm Machinery business, selling to Martin and Erhard Eisenbraun. Some of the early stores were owned by: C. M. Lewis, L. H. Hansen, Clayton Babcock, Al Strandell, Mrs. Martinson, and Frank Martin, Butler, Lanam, Mutchlers, Bradley, Galbraith, Long, La Roche, Fosness, Horst, and Fred Lewis. The two grocery stores at the present time are Smith's Jack and Jill Market and Clark's Wall Lockers. Galbraiths started a dry goods and notions store and Minnie Dartt had a dry goods store called the Style Shop.
Early in 1920 the Galbraiths opened a funeral establishment known as the Galbraith Mortuary. They sold this business to Bill Walsh in 1952, and Bill still operates it. Having added a chapel in 1965.
In 1935 the Wall Commercial Club sponsored a number of free movies to try and induce someone to come to town to build a theatre. When it was determined that there was enough interest to justify a business, the Raeburns built the present theatre which they sold to Earl Neumister in 1937.
Since Wall has become a popular tourist town, many motel and cabin courts have sprung up. Best, Buckstads, Harvey, Campbell, Dora Welsh were some of the early owners. Followed by R. Paulsen, L. Dartt, Werd, Knapp, J. Paulsen, Irene Schmidt, Estes, Jensen, Hauk, Geigle, H & W Welsh & Mills. Also Crown and Paulsen's Red Arrow Camp.
Tourist trade also makes Cafe business good. Some owners were: Millers, Johnsons, Connolly, Smoot, Schone, Briley, Wilkinson, Parr, B. Babcock, Doyle, Peterson, Land, Todd, Fischer; with the present owners of Wall Cafes being: Fosness, Beach, Pederson and Hustead.
There have been many pool halls, bars, and liquor stores in town owned by Johnson, Parr, Babcock, Doyle, Wilsey, Crawford, Beach, Byerly and Haefs.
Some other interesting dates in Wall's history: In 1922 the old town dam was built. In 1923 the first water system was built. Pipe lines were laid and a water tower erected. The water was not used for drinking but it was good fire protection. The water filtration plant was built in 1942, and a new town dam in 1947. In 1951 a sewer system was installed. Two deep wells were dug in 1961 and 1962, giving the town an ample supply of pure water. The Stone Community Hut was built with W.P.A. labor and federal funds in 1936. The West River Electric Association energized their lines in December of 1940, replacing the old direct-current electric lighting system owned by Chiak Brothers. A portion of the Badlands area south of Wall was designated a National Monument in 1939.
On August 9, 1960, Wall became headquarters for a SAC Radio Beacon Site. In 1961 Wall became one of the centers for a Minute-man Complex which has 150 launching pads for intercontinental missiles.
The Committee realizes this history is far from complete and regret any business or name we may have omitted.
Hey folks. Seems Minge has witnessed first hand the incivility that is the trademark of a Wall, SD Centennial Celebration. He has phoned in one report since his initial post. He spoke of clan conflict; open and on the streets. Much like the soccer thugs of England, these Western reprobates seek any reason at hand for a fisticuff. Gnashing and pounding like crazed dung beetles, nothing but eyeballs, teeth and big flap-like ears swirling and spinning like whirling dervishes. Smack and splat. They all know the taste of tar macadam. No report from Minge today. Expect he'll have full disclosure upon his return. We're placing a call now.
With a July 15 deadline, perfectspy sends a letter to his representative in congress:
July 13, 2007 The Honorable Jon L. Kyl United States Senate 730 Hart Senate Office Building Washington, DC 20510 0304 Re: I'm a listener/broadcaster who wants you to help save music diversity on the Internet Dear Senator Kyl: As a fan of Internet radio, I was alarmed to learn that the Copyright Royalty Board has decided to raise music royalty rates by 300 to 1200 percent. For most webcasters the new royalties exceed their revenue and they simply will go bankrupt and stop webcasting. The silencing of Internet radio would be a blow to listeners like me who enjoy the wide variety of choices only available via Internet radio. This will kill the great diversity of music that I hear over the Internet and all the independent artists who have a difficult time breaking through on other forms of radio. I respectfully request that Congress look into this matter and take action to prevent it. Please understand that time is of the essence since the new royalty rates are retroactive to January 1, 2006 so they will cause immediate bankruptcies if they become effective for even one day. Please don't let the music die. Sincerely,
thurs., july 12 2007 black hills hay camp 81 and clear
wellington minge here... i have been assigned roving correspondence duties here in the eastern black hills piedmont. my journey coincides with a centennial shindig taking place in the badlands, seems the hamlet of Wall has hit the century mark in terms of existence...i plan to investigate if civility has accompanied that 100 yr achievement.
reports indicate the group 'eclipse' has canceled their sat. show at the celebration tent. reliable sources have told this reporter that the 'bay city rollers' are committed to standby. these lads will not disappoint, extra ale and ones best kilt should be considered.
i like the night life. i like to boogie.
have experienced a clear starry night and cool breezy morning thus far...a morning stroll through a pasture of +knee high crested wheat grass has set the tone for the coming day.
