After Bill had spent several days campaigning for her and lost his temper many times costing her votes and finally escaping from her overly controlling campaign manager for the evening, Hillary sneaked off to visit a fortune teller of some local repute.
In a dark and hazy room, peering into a crystal ball, the mystic delivered grave news.
"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be blunt: Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a violent and horrible death this year just after you lose the election."
Then the soothsayer looked up and locked eyes with Hillary, who was visibly shaken at this news.
Hillary stared back at the woman's lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her shaking hands.
She took a few deep breaths to compose herself.
She simply had to know.
She looked back, deep into the fortune teller's gaze, steadied her voice, and asked her the big question:
I'm 47. I've watched more than 2,000,000 miles slide behind me in a truck, backpacked all over the Rocky Mtn. west, been a published writer, won shooting matches and poetry contests, dined with presidential candidates and made and squandered a couple of minor fortunes - All of which add up to a great big zero in the end.
On the other hand, if, when I shuffle off this mortal coil even one person says "He was a good man and a good friend and he will be missed." then my life will certainly have been a success regardless of any personal accomplishments or shortcomings.
While I understand what you're saying, it's rather a broad, sweeping statement and not everyone falls into the categorizations you mentioned. I, for one, have always been proud of the fact that I go my own way and form my own opinions regardless of what society would like to dictate.
At the same time - while there are those who might think I am stuck in the mores and convictions of the 19th century - You are correct; I am not static. Nearly everything I've ever seen, heard or experienced has gone into the makeup of the everchanging being that is 'me'. But still I manage to hang on to those values and beliefs that I hold dear, for they are at the very core of my existence. And while I might apologize to an individual for something I've said or done to inadvertantly cause offense, I refuse to apologize to society for remaining on the fringe.
Not all of us are sheep to the everchanging directions of the societal herd.
And until death do us part is history only if we allow it to be.
Sadly, the days of the milkman have all but died out. Fortunately though, a part of their legacy remains in these "Notes to the Milkman."
Enjoy!
1.) No milk. Please do not leave milk at No. 14 either as he is dead until further notice.
2.) Please send me a form for cheap milk, for I have a baby two months old and did not know about it until a neighbour told me.
3.) Milk is needed for the baby. Father is unable to supply it.
4.) From now on please leave two pints every other day and one pint on the days in between, except Wednesdays and Saturdays when I don't want any milk.
5.) Please don't leave any more milk. All they do is drink it.
6.) My back door is open. Please put milk in ' fridge, get money out of cup in drawer and leave change on kitchen table in pence, because we want to play bingo tonight.
7.) Please leave no milk today. When I say today, I mean tomorrow, for I wrote this note yesterday.
8.) Milkman, please close the gate behind you because the birds keep pecking the tops off the milk.
9.) Milkman, please could I have a loaf but not bread today.
10.) Sorry about yesterday's note. I didn't mean one egg and a dozen pints, but the other way round.
You're right, it is bad - Fortunately for me, by the time I remember all that and get it straight in my mind whatever it was that I was initially afraid of has usually gone away.
I have an unnatural fear of being paralyzed by fear and thereby failing to react out of a fear of failing to react when confronted by something I fear...
...That when I take my rowboat to the creek, it leaks and water comes in - But when I forget to turn it upsidedown before a rain and it fills with water, the water never leaks out?!!!
And anyone who's ever driven through a major U.S. city understands why; The "F" of the car horn simply begins the epithet that the one who honks is about to scream anyway.
"My Head Hurts, My Feet Stink and I Don't Love Jesus"
Jimmy Buffet
Refrain:
My head hurts, my feet stink and I don't love Jesus; It's been that kind of morning - really was that kind of night! Tryin' to tell my self that my condition is improving And if I don't die by Thursday, I'll be roarin' Friday night!
Dedicated to myself because of the $%#@%!!! border collie that woke myself (and our dogs) at 2:00 A.M. and continues barking often enough that I can't get back to sleep without first euthanizing either IT, OURS or myself!
Throughout the ages, men have been trying to unlock the mystery as to why their wives who accepted them as they were before they got married, subtly and with determination began the quest to change their behaviour and life-style once their vows were exchanged.
Finally, the riddle was solved. A social-scientist arrived at a simple and logical conclusion.
When the bride, accompanied by her father, starts to walk slowly down the long aisle, she sees the altar at the end and hears the choir singing a hymn. Walking down the aisle, the conditioning process where the brain absorbs these three stimuli: aisle, altar, hymn, begins. She becomes mesmerized as she continually reinforces these perceptions:
Naw, Bev, they broke the mold when they made me. (Thank God!) I do have four older brothers, but trust me when I say I wouldn't recommend the 2 who aren't currently married, to anyone with an IQ over about 35. Sounds harsh, but believe me - I know my brothers!
Oh, got ya! Jackson has agreed to drive when we go out later on. (I'll be the one hunkered down in the combat cowboy hat with the flak jacket, sitting on my hands with my eyes tightly shut while thinking beautiful thoughts about how all men are cowards... )
Music is many different things to many different people.
My own favorite music is the sounds of nature; The rush, brief hesitation and re-acceleration of a mountain stream. (Under the water are the words.) The sigh of wind in the tallgrass prairies which carries on in much the same way as the mountains streams they eventually absorb and redirect. The hesitant chirp and twitter of nightbirds realizing that day is almost upon them. And the pounding crescendo of a gaggle of geese taking flight and turning themselves into a flock.
Wild turkeys and bobwhite quail in the fence rows of Western Kansas, coyotes singing their laments to the moon and wild horses battling on a plateau in Utah, Wyoming or New Mexico... These things can never truly be captured by the instruments of men, but to me are music nonetheless...
The_Kansan Forum Posts (3,395)
Hillary's Dat at the Fortune Teller...
After Bill had spent several days campaigning for her and lost his temper many times costing her votes and finally escaping from her overly controlling campaign manager for the evening, Hillary sneaked off to visit a fortune teller of some local repute.In a dark and hazy room, peering into a crystal ball, the mystic delivered grave news.
"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be blunt: Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a violent and horrible death this year just after you lose the election."
Then the soothsayer looked up and locked eyes with Hillary, who was visibly shaken at this news.
Hillary stared back at the woman's lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her shaking hands.
She took a few deep breaths to compose herself.
She simply had to know.
She looked back, deep into the fortune teller's gaze, steadied her voice, and asked her the big question:
"Will I be acquitted?"