Political genius Brendan

BannersBroker

Banners is the first internet based company to recover from a near shutdown.  They are paying their affiliates again.  Join me in BB and lets make some money purchasing advertising impressions.  It's easy, I'll help you and it is fun.  If you have any questions or concerns, please call me at 866-691-6499 Ext. 902  BannersBroker

Wealth4All is the BOMB! http://ping.fm/RrXAE

Is Time Travel Possible?

As I find myself admitting my age, the things that seem to occupy my mind most seem to be thoughts and concepts that as a younger and clear-thinking person, would have appeared so “far-fetched” and a waste of an intellectual’s time. I prefer to think of this mental and spiritual transition as the process of maturation; an acceptance of “Reality” on a grand and glorious scale.

For all of the things that made life worth living and brought about that “winning feeling”, seem to be returning, more and more, and more frequently. I welcome these blessings into my soul, and pray they will never depart again. Stay, sweet memories, and become the best part of me.

Way back then, when my tiny wood-frame house and its little quaint yard comprised the major part of my World, the beginning of TIME was just dawning and filling my child- self with the Magic that would carry me through LIFE.

My mother was a big and beautiful lady who was the envy of every other being on the planet. My father was handsome, dashing, and a hard-working giant among men; together they gave to me such security and happiness. I adored them so, and I felt so alive, and I was a part of a MASTER PLAN that just made sense.

Early in the mornings, Mother would prepare breakfast for Father and me, and by the time “Hopalong Cassidy” would appear on the radio trail, she would be ironing the clothes. What a wonderfully woman-like technique she had. She made the drudgery appear to be an art form; the way she would slide the items of apparel onto the ironing board. Then she would moisten a finger tip and touch it to the iron and elicit that little “twittt” sound that told her the time was right.

Sometimes she had pre-starched a few items to iron, but usually she placed a green translucent bowl of water nearby. She would dip a hand into the bowl and deftly sprinkle those jeans or that plaid cowgirl shirt that I loved so much. As she applied the hot iron, a wonderful cloud of steam would arise, and the apparel was magically transformed into smooth and beautiful Western Wear that I could don as I deftly mounted my perfect “dream pony”, and set off across the prairies to help oppressed people and protect all animals.

Even then, I occasionally wondered if I would ever find my own “HOPALONG”; that tough and straight-shooting cowboy who already knew what was important in life, and who could not wait to join me in our quest to rid the world of injustice, and to spend the majority of our lives holding hands and kissing one another’s cheeks until they were rosy-red.

And then just outside of my dream, I would hear CALIFORNIA CARLSON laugh that silly giggle that no one could listen to without themselves laughing. “ahhhhhhhhhhh, haaaaaaaa!......You’re right again, HOPPY”! “Well, You don’t say, CALIFORNIA, c’mon, let’s go have a bite at the CANTINA”….CLIPPITY CLOP, CLOP, CLOP, and the theme song would play as HOPPY AND CALIFORNIA would ride away to consume a sumptuous feast; done until tomorrow, when they would ride into action with me and my wonderful stallion. As they faded from my dusty view, a commercial for LUCKY STRIKE CIGARETTES would announce” heyddddddddaaaaaaaatttttttttttaaaaaaaaalllllllllaaaaaa, SOLD AMERICAN! Daddy smoked them, and they were so good for You. I can still sense the aroma.

As the day progressed, Mommy would sometimes listen to QUEST FOR TOMORROW or YOUNG DR. MALONE. These programs did not hold my interest, but I liked them because SHE did. Presently, Mother would sweep and mop, occasionally dance with the broom or mop; swirling and twirling to the romantic strains of Eddie Fischer, or Pat Boone, smiling as she dreamed about “her” hard-working COWPOKE who would be returning from work soon…but not soon enough to suit her.

With renewed energy she would apply a generous helping of JOHNSON’S GLO-COAT to the hardwood floors, because JACK BENNY had told her to do so; she buffed the floors with a diaper under foot as she danced to “MR. SANDMAN”…..bring me a dream, make his complexion like peaches and cream,” shining that floor to catch the eye of her heroic bread-winner, when he arrived home in a little while.

Already we were planning an evening around the RADIO, listening to BURNS AND ALLEN and FIBBER MAGEE AND MOLLY. Our little family ruled the world, and with the help of RADIO, danced through our days and defeated all who would spoil the peace of the world. I will now clear my mind and soul and attempt to go back…SEE YA’LL THERE!