Someone told me I’m living in the buckle of the Bible belt. I have no reason to deny that.
I suppose people feel good by going to church once a week on Sunday. I did get an invitation in my mailbox to the local Baptist church nearby. I declined the invitation.
I wake up in the middle of the night to say my prayers. It’s quiet, dark and peaceful. I’m pretty sure the Lord is on duty 24 hours a day.
There’s only one man working now and all he does is check to make sure the water sprinklers are working as they should. The lawns are beautiful, the small shrubs were planted well and the trees they planted are doing well now since they are getting water.
The only thing missing is me. The place looks complete and very attractive. The only way I can contact the proprietors is over their internet and all I get there is a damn robot that says enter your internet and we will contact you when we are ready.
I may or may not be able to afford living there, but I want to at least see everything inside compleated and all polished up and looking pretty there.
I’m quite content living alone in my apartment, but in the home there will be people close to my age and me with a private apartment, I can decide whether I want to be alone or be sharing stories with other old folks who want to talk about things that with both of us at nearly the same age will be nice for me.
When this happens, I don’t know. I’ve watched the home since the first load of lumber hit the ground. You may remember my event when I just walked in the manor and walked around when there were two men working and I found an apartment like the one I’ll have provided if I get to live there.
As bugs bunny would say,"that's all folks."
I found an app on google that is supposed to block spam and keep the bad guys away. Time will tell.
I’m old and tired of assholes who roam the telephone world and mess with ordinary people, especially older people like me. They don’t care, maybe they enjoy being a criminal and an ass.
All I want is something to make a call from, like the old wall phones. I don’t need one of these fancy do everything phones, but that's all one can get these days.
My phone has worked well for as long as I’ve had it until last night and today. My computer blocks anything unsavory, but my phone lets every Tom, Dick and Harry attack my phone and my sanity!
That's me on the left in the picture.
All in all, I’ve had a good life. I’ve seen places people who were not military would likely never see back in the sixties and until 1974 when I was discharged from the Navy.
I loved Japan, especially Tokyo, and Singapore. I was in the Philippines many times.
I was in Vietnam once while our plane was refueling. The tanks filled up as the mortar attack started with shells hitting the runways and the bunkers where Air Force planes were parked. We all got into our plane and lifted off the runway and headed back to the Philippines.
Hong Kong was great when the British still had control. If you ever get to Britain, don’t expect much in the cooking. I was sent on Shore Patrol in Hong Kong once with two British Marines. Those two were giants and were built like tanks. Needless to say, whenever we had to arrest a sailor, there were no problems with the detainee. Come to think about it, every country I was in, I had Shore Patrol duty multiple times. When I was a boy I wanted to be a policeman, after lots of Shore Patrol duty, I changed my mind.
I never got to Australia and I wanted to see that more than anywhere else. The ship was headed there and we were just 80 miles from there when we turned around and headed for North Korea after they captured the Pueblo, an American spy ship. We ordered back from there and went back on line on the coast of Vietnam. We dropped so many bombs on that place it should have been just a big hole in the ground.
I never got to see the Mediterranean sea. Never got to have liberty in all those ports.
Our training classes for airborne radar operators had I think 14 sailors. At the end of training, 2 operators were sent to Rhode Island the other 12 went to Guam, me included. Had I gone to Rhode Island, I would have gotten to see all of the Mediterranean and good liberty. The luck of the draw went against me. It wasn’t the first time and wasn’t the last time either.
Brother Bill
I was raised in a home, as was Joyce where there was great love, but never hugs or kisses from parents. As far as intimacy goes, Mom had 7 children.
So now I wonder if no hugs and kisses was normal or not?
I remember going to visit mom and dad one time. I grabbed and hugged my dad and he was in shock and didn't know what to do.
My daughter and her husband always hug me when they come to visit and hug when they are leaving and my daughter kisses me on my cheek.
It’s been two different worlds for me, but both were good.
A space traveler was going planet to planet looking for live beings. He landed on one planet that had no life forms, but it had a statue called The Sentinel
I remembered back in navy bootcamp; each floor had overnight sentries with four hour watches for fires. The sailor on watch was a sentinel. Any sailor on watch had to, when challenged, spout out the 10 general orders of a sentry on watch. Don't ask me what the 10 general orders of a sentry were, because I never said them again. That was 1963, a long time ago.
For some reason that stuck with me and when I started writing stories and sending them to readers, I labeled the post as “The Sentinel.”
I think I’ll call my current posts “The Sentinel.” I guess I'm going back in time, but it was a good time.
She radiates the sun.
The gold of the sun is already in her hair.
The softness of the flower petal is there in her skin.
The branches of the tree are misshapen compared to her limbs
The joy of seeing the sunrise seems shallow compared with seeing her beside me as I awaken in the morning.
Bill
She takes my breath away long before the sunset has a chance.
The clouds in the sky hide the sun’s shame at being less radiant than she.
The sunshine sparkling off of the clear waters of a stream, learned to twinkle by copying the sparkle in her eyes.
The red of the grape is in her lips.
All of the colors in nature’s palate pale when compared to her complexion.
The petal of the rose feels rough compared to her skin.
The smell of fresh earth can’t compare to her perfume.
The freshness of a spring shower coupled with the heat of a roaring winter fire mimic her kiss.
The flowers swaying in the breeze learned their dance watching her movements.
The warmth of the sun on a cold day is second to the warmth of her arms.
The sound of a meadowlark pales when compared to her voice.
The somber note of sunset is trivial compared with seeing her depart.
She is a Natural Woman and she chose to spend her life with me.
For that I am thankful.
One place I called was a credit card company I have dealt with since 1984 when they first began business. With the transition from one whale devouring a smaller whale, I can expect some issues.
I had stopped using a card when my finances were hacked earlier this summer. The credit folks never deleted the card number. I had destroyed it and got a new card.
The new folks had me going from one desk to another. I wanted to tell someone that I kept seeing the number to a card I had destroyed and no longer had use of it. I finally got to a nice young lady and made sure my new card was okay with the new company. I told her I didn’t want to see that card number anymore. She did some magic and said: I see there is $400 dollars sitting in that account. I’ll send you a check for that and then cancel the card number. She said it would take about 10 days. I said okay. I think it had something to do with cell phones I got and sent back.
The strange thing is I had asked two different people to eliminate the card and number on two occasions I was on the phone trying to clear and clean things up. They said they would do that, but obviously they didn’t do their job.
I am happy for once that two people I relied upon failed to do their job. They failed and I got a bonus.
I mentioned to a good friend of nearly 50 years now about walking with my cane to protect me from dogs that want to attack me for unknown reasons. I also told him about walking home with two young men walking behind me on my way home. I said I could definitely handle one, but two would be dicey.
So, what does he do? He sends me a belated birthday party gift.
Good friends are hard to find.
This is a pepper spray used by police. I'm not going to ask how he found that out. So now when I go out my door, I'm armed and ready. I haven't felt like this since the navy handed me a night stick and said go out and protect or subdue sailors in trouble.
Two things I remember from Catholic teaching: Ashes to Ashes and Dust to Dust. I was told we come from ashes and when we die we return to ashes. As I write this, I realize that is the truth, at least the first part. I think mom and dad had something to do about the second part.
I find myself living in the past. I remember the past well. Before I could go to school, I had to know my home telephone number. It was EV8059. That was 76 years ago. First grade Christmas pageant I was selected to play Joseph and a girl who was named Marybeth was picked to play Mary the mother of Jesus. Thus began my acting career and after that ended my acting career.
I have very good memories up to and through my navy enlistment. I have few memories about what I did after that.
I find myself focusing on the past. I had my past and remember it well and I want to go back, despite knowing that is impossible.
I’m not sad, not whining about my life; I’ve had a good life. But that’s over and as I stated above, I’m a disbursing clerk. The adventure is gone, the love of my life has passed away 6 years now.
I accept what I am, what I have,for what it is. I know It probably won't change, so I live with it. I know things can always be worse than what I have now. Life is what it is. I’m lucky to have lived through what I experienced in the hospital a month ago. So I’ll pay my debts and live as I do and not complain.
I have no future. I’m a dispersing clerk: I pay the apartment rental agency; I pay the grocery store; I pay the electric company; I pay Walmart.
I don’t know how many people my age can claim that.
I do my exercises every day, my Tai Chi, and some of my Yoga. Up until my last hospital stay, I did all of my yoga, but these days, I can do the laying down exercises, but it’s tough to get off the floor. I can, but it’s difficult and I don’t want to strain this body unless it's absolutely nessassary.
My kids took me out to dinner for my birthday. That was 2 ½ hours ago and I still feel like a stuffed turkey at Thanksgiving.
8 days after I was born, the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, Japan. The 9th day an atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. The original target for the second atomic bomb was Kokura, but the city was overcast, so the Nagasaki folks got the hot seat. Think about that for a moment: clouds saved one city and lack of clouds crushed another city. That’s life for you, you never know what tomorrow may bring.
God is great, God is good and evidently He has me here for a reason. I don’t think it’s to stuff myself at dinner. Maybe it’s to be as kind to others as I can.
Sunday, February 13, 2000
Love:
The dictionary defines it as"an intense affection for another person".
If that's so, then I love you Joyce.
I feel it when I make your morning coffee. I feel it when I drive to work. I feel it at the low point of my day as I wonder why I continue. I feel it when I drive home, eagerly awaiting your arrival home. I feel it when we talk about our day. I feel it when we prepare our supper. I feel it when we wash the dishes. I feel it when we sit after dinner. I feel it when we kiss goodnight.
Love's there when I wake to begin the next day. It's a simple play repeated day after day, a simple life with a wonderful wife, who is as radiant as the sun, deep as the ocean, and as mysterious as the stars. It's a woman who I will spend my life with, but never truly know. It's a woman who I will die with, but never grow tired of loving.
I love you Joyce.
Bill
The LST was designed by the Navy in WW-2. It is a ship that can carry tanks and/or troops to battle.
It is a flat bottom boat that can navigate right up to a shore, open its large square bow down onto a beach to release tanks or soldiers.
The naval LST operators that traveled from larger ships to enemy shores called them Large Slow Targets. The operators delivered tanks or troops onto unfriendly shores.
Once a soldier left an LST his danger wasn’t over, but he wasn’t repeating the same dangerous operation that the LST drivers did.
I was on an empty LST from Naval Station Subic Bay out to the USS Enterprise. The flat bottom LST was empty, so it bobbed like a cork, rolled right then left all the way. The bunk I slept in had a seatbelt style strap to hold you in bed instead of tossing you out and onto the deck. It took 4 days to get close to the shores of Vietnam. A helicopter picked me up and put me on the deck of a modern supply ship for a few hours. From there I was on another helicopter to the flight deck of the Enterprise.
Now here I am an 81 year old LST; on the sidewalk or the street. I am a large slow target. This morning I was walking home from Aldi’s; when I looked behind me there were 2 young men going the same way as I was. They weren’t a threat, but it made me think they could have been. I feel like I could take on one young man with my cane, but two would be tough.
Brother Bill
I wrote my first poem when I was 15 years old and it was to a girl. I liked writing poems and that girl was very good at returning what seemed like good poems at the time. We exchanged poems every morning before going to a different high school.
I’ve always been a writer, back then it was things put to paper and mailed in an envelope. I wrote letters and sent them home when I was in navy boot camp.
When I was aboard the USS Kitty Hawk I wrote multiple letters every day to people at home, to Joyce, to grandpa, to mom and dad. That happened every day. In those days, there was so much to write about, exciting things that happened during my daily duties. Those letters were appreciated.
If you ever want to experience wonderful poetry, start with “The Road Less Traveled” by Robert Frost, long long ago.
He and Edgar Allen Poe are my favorites.
Brother Bill
I continued writing home from Guam.
My passion has always been poetry, but not many people seem to like poetry.
One could say what I write are merely rhymes, and they would be correct.
Most of you readers know I was in the United States Navy for many a year. Some of you didn’t until today.
Many sailors have a story or more that they tell. I had 63 navy stories that I set to paper and pen. Since those navy years, I’ve added 2,801 entries on this blog.
My last story series was fictitious for the most part. I enjoyed writing it.
Back in my navy days a sailor could tell a story two different ways. He could just tell the story as it happened, but sometimes the story was difficult to believe. So if the sailor wanted everyone to believe the story, he could paraphrase it with one saying that guaranteed truth.
That phrase was; “this is no shit.” That was equal to taking an oath that truth prevailed.
This morning something new happened. A story that is 100% true.
With the fantasy in the most recent stories, what was true and what was not may have seemed difficult to imagine.
This morning I looked out my bedroom window and there was a police vehicle pointed directly across the street toward my apartment window. Now why would a police vehicle be pointed directly at my abode?
This wasn’t as scary as when two giant police men were banging so hard on my door that I thought the door might be destroyed. It happened that the man who lived in this apartment before me was wanted for several criminal issues and they were here to arrest mister Bradlee. They had no pictures of Bradlee or me in the apartment, which was good enough for them to arrest. The only thing that saved me, was my neighbor in the adjoining apartment came walking down the hallway and told the police I wasn’t Bradlee, but he was seen walking around the complex. The two giant policemen took off at a dead run. I don’t know if they caught Bradlee that day, or maybe I’ll have another banging at my door with the police looking for ole Bradlee. One never knows what may happen at any time.
Sittin’ here in the county jail
Some say I might get out in about a year
Sister Mar and Uncle Steve were in town.
Neighbor said I was in county jail;
We got back to the apartment and I wrote them a check.
So here I sit, wondering what to do next.
My now AI controlled mind may send me away.
Whatever comes up today, tomorrow or whenever, I’ll let you know.
Brother Bill
Ain’t got no money, to make no bail
Got nothing on but county wear
Don’t matter, there’s nobody to care
Long time for me without a beer
They wanted to see me and look around.
They knocked on the door, but I wasn’t home.
They asked the neighbor where I might roam?
and would be there till someone came up with bail.
They traveled out to the county jail.
Reached deep into their pockets to get my bail.
Happy to do so, because the county jail made me a wreck.
I can assure you recent days have left me vexed!
What’s an 81 year old man to do?
When I know, I’ll let you know too.
Or maybe I’ll be told to stay.
As soon as my AI-addled mind tells me where next I’ll go.
My one mistake was once I thought I had dispatched both of those nefarians, I thought I was good to go and I went back to the old folks home.
I never looked back but one of the buggers came to and saw me turning into the complex. The lights from Aldi’s gave me away.
I was just getting cozy when I saw flashlights searching the darkness and it wasn’t just one flashlight, it appeared to be several of them.
The local police caught me. They were not real nice and when the handcuffs went on I knew something went wrong. We got outside and one of the nefarians said, “That's him, he’s the one who assaulted us.”
..
I tried to tell the policemen that they were the ones who assaulted me! The police didn’t buy that at all. Off we went to the city jail. This is a small town and the detention cells are only for holding until the county sheriffs arrive to take prisoners away.
Once I was in county jail, I could tell that the sprayers had been there. One of the jailors allowed me to use my laptop to let my readers know that I am alive.
The problem is I’ll soon be under control of AI from the heavy spraying that has been done in the jail.
You won’t know if what I send you is really me or…?
I may be released back into the world soon, but I won’t be who I was before; I’ll be under control of AI. I’ll be told what to do and when to do it. My normal thought process won’t be there anymore, it will be AI controlled.
I remembered that I could see a light left on in the back side of the home. That will give me electricity to run my laptop.
The workers finally left and sadly they locked the doors. I hadn’t actually counted the number of rooms in the complex, but there had to be at least one that had been left open. I’ll go around the building until I find an unlocked window. There are far more than a hundred rooms in that place!
I finally found an open window, I tossed my gear in and before I could climb in myself, I saw a police car making its rounds. I dove into a large shrubbery to hide. I thought they might have spotted me, but the car kept rolling around the complex. I got through the window and grabbed my stuff and went to find the room that always had a light on. I plugged in my laptop to charge it and decided to go to the store for some cold beer.
It was a good thing I had brought my cane, as I stepped out of the beer store two nefarious characters wanted my beer. It has been 46 years since Annie and I took our Karate and weapons training, but some lessons learned and still practiced are worth their weight in gold. I used my cane like a staff, a couple of jabs, followed by two baseball swings and I walked back to the home, beer in hand. The nefarians were laying on the driveway when last I looked over there.
Will this ever end? The good thing was it was addressed to my old apartment. The bad thing was the bill was sent to me for me to pay the bill, for whomever is living there. I’m sitting here, not knowing whether to laugh or cry? Flash! I wonder if AI has taken over billing? That makes sense; keep sending bills until humans give up and start paying whatever AI sends. Another call to the electric company and the delightful Tracy with her tantalizing voice told me to discard the bill because she didn’t see anything owed on her end of the line. I think there was a connection. If I still had a car, I’d have suggested we have dinner somewhere. Wine, candles, soft lighting and music. Hey I’m old, but I’m not dead YET!
Oh no, I wonder if the delightful Tracy isn't a real woman? She could be a robot with a beautiful voice and a stone cold killer.
I’m wondering, now when I go to the beer store, it’s the same man behind the counter. My adjoining neighbor is the same man as the beer store guy! The people who used to work in the beer store are all gone now. So, are my neighbor and the beer store guy both AI bots?
The manager of the apartments is different. It used to be a woman and I got along well with her, but now it’s a man. He and a man claiming to be a bug sprayer, both in my apartment and all the others. Could the spray not be for bugs, but to gradually change the air in the apartment to take control over my thoughts, my body?
The prior female manager said it was two guys living here and they were kind of crazy. The vent over the stove has a head size dent in it. I wonder if the bug spray made them crazy and they were put under control of the AI master for this complex?
It’s all beginning to be clear to me; they’re slowly taking over. I’m not safe here anymore if I want to be a human with a brian that has as yet not been fully taken over. If I stay here, I’ll soon be one of them, under control of AI.
I’m going to pack up my blanket and a pillow and whatever cash I have. I walked right into the old folks home last Saturday. I can do it again today. I’ll sleep there, get my food from Aldi’s and beer from the AI guy at the beer store. If they catch me, I’ll sleep and live in the woods. As long as I don’t get caught I’ll be able to send out updates. If they toss me out I’ll send updates until my battery dies.
It’s been a good time writing to my friends, but my battery charger won’t work in the woods or heaven forbid in a county jail cell Whatever happens, I wish you well. If the county jail has already been sprayed, I’ll be under AI control.
It’s been a good life; whatever happens under AI control I’ll never know because the AI won’t allow me to know anything but what AI wants me to know or do.
Brother Bill
I’m wondering why my sleep cycle has changed since I've been here since the “bug sprayer” was here?
Most important was my electric bill. I thought it was too early to receive the bill, but I opened it. Danger!!! My electricity will be shut off on July 20th, for lack of payment. I looked at my calendar and DAM! It's July 20th! I can see the lights going off later today! I called the electric company to do whatever was necessary to keep the lights on in my apartment. I spoke with a delightful woman there. She did some magic and said not to worry the bill was paid and the paperwork could be tossed away. Okay, problem solved.
I opened the next piece of mail; oh look my Unisys pension is stopping payment!
I opened my mail from the hospital and the first page said: “Your cost of hospital treatment is $155,803. That's the shock number, My insurance takes care of a lot of that cost.
Okay! time to switch from coffee to beer.
Other than that, I’ve had a pretty good day
I had forgotten to send a change of address and my checking account number was not updated. I filled out the forms and my problem should be taken care of, hopefully.
