|
Robert A. Mills, click here
to update your web pages on AuthorsDen.
|
|
|
|
|
Blogs by Robert A. Mills
AURA LEE PART SIX
12/9/2009 10:11:34 AM
AURA LEE PART SIX continued
It would, if written about today, be considered a feat of thaumaturgy that brought Melissa Menefee a year earlier alongside her husband as he marched on line with the 16th North Carolina Infantry, Company D, just outside the city limits of Raleigh.
Nearing four in the afternoon she casually stepped out from behind a giant oak by the roadside, feigning buttoning her trousers as though having just relieved herself, her musket strapped across her back atop her haversack, her gray kepi at a jaunty angle above her close-cropped hair, and gingerly, with the pluck and pride of any fifteen year old ‘boy,’ elbowed Daniel Menefee aside and came in step with the two thousand three hundred eighty-seven Rebels marching eastward amidst the swirling dust.
“Made it,” was all she said.
Daniel glanced at his wife from the corner of his eye. God, he thought, she’s beautiful even dirty an’ smelly like a real soldier!
After a few moments—when she realized no one was paying any attention to them, the cluster of men around them marching with heads down, tired and hungry from not stopping since noon, feet dragging, bodies and brains numb and distant—she touched Daniel’s sleeve and said: “This most fun I had since them scavenger hunts we used to have up at Beansy Blesham’s barn ‘round Hellaween!”
Daniel cleared road grime from his throat, spitting a wad off to his right. “How’d y’all git here so fast? Look like y’all slept the mornin’ away waitin’ on me.”
“Weren’t too bad. Tell ya ‘bout it tonight.”
Bivouac was at five-thirty on a large farm six miles east of Raleigh. The soldiers, the officers, the horses carrying them, the ones pulling supply wagons and two howitzers were spread out over two broad fields separated by an inviting, fast-moving creek. Tents were pitched, fires were built, but most men dropped where they were on rough blanket rolls. Many were too tired to eat. Those who did eat ate very little, for this particular day Lt. Col. Ansley Cartwright had marched them twenty-six miles.
Daniel and Melissa found a place close to the creek, a shady spot beside two small pines where the ground was covered with soft needles. Surprisingly, no one had taken it, and it was ideal, just right for any two people. They unrolled their blankets far enough apart that during twilight no one would wonder why a full-grown man with a week’s worth of beard would be lying next to a smooth-faced teenage boy.
Daniel said, “Y’all want me make a fire?”
Melissa shook her head. “Maybe later.”
“Gits righ’ cold outside here nights this time a year.”
“I know,” she said, rummaging in her haversack. “I been livin’ outside better’n three weeks waitin’ on y’all. You want somethin’ to eat?”
“No. Dang tired.” Daniel came up on one elbow and looked at his wife in the fading sunlight. “You sure a sight fer sore eyes, li’l girl. Y’all so dang pretty I like to roll over on y’all righ’ now!”
“You do,” she laughed, “an’ that there sergeant over there gonna whup you good fer corruptin’ a li’l ol’ baby boy! That what they teach y’all to do in the army?”
At that, Daniel laughed also and flopped back down, looking at the sky through the low branches of the pines. “Dang, I never thought y’all was gonna make it here. I thought fer sure some dang Yankee gonna pick you off an’ git him some medal or sumpin’ for shootin’ a l’il kid dressed up like some soldier or sumpin’”
Melissa found a decent biscuit in her haversack, pulled it out, and bit off a sizeable chunk. “Some days I didn’t think I was gonna make it, neither. Three weeks all alone on the road comin’ after you was a trial, let me tell y’all that. I slept in some strange places, I ken tell you, an’ gittin’ food one, two times a day was top chore. Shot me some mighty fine ‘possum ‘long the way, an’ they cooked up real good, too. More’n once a farmer’s wife took me in, but most times I slept in barns an’ under the stars. Got a good bath once, too, in some ol’ river few days back.”
“Anybody seen ya?”
“Not I know of.”
“You take all yore clothes off?”
“Sure.”
“Wish I coulda seen you.”
Melissa giggled quietly. “What you woulda done if you could?”
“I doan know.”
“Betcha woulda done what you like to do righ’ now.”
Wanting to change the subject Daniel wondered, “How’d y’all git ahead a us even ‘fore we got to Raleigh?”
“Shoot, that was no chore! Y’all marchin’ like li’l ol’ schoolgirls on vacation! I passed y’all day ‘fore yesterday, an’ I thought nobody was ever comin’ down that road. I seen your dust three mile back, an’ I had a hard time hidin’ out ‘til y’all come along. Weren’t fer that big ol’ oak tree, I’da had to join up with some good-lookin’ lew-tenent’er somebody!”
It was dark by eight and the entire countryside was decorated with campfires, some bright blazes, others mere sparks; a few white tents with lamps glowing from within were scattered across the landscape; and the crumpled bodies of motionless, snoring men were everywhere. Pickets were stationed with no apparent plan around the perimeter, as if the platoon leaders somehow knew there was not a Yankee soldier within ten miles in any direction.
About nine-thirty Melissa stirred under her blanket and said, “Dan’l? Sleepin’?”
“Nope.”
“What y’all thinkin’ ‘bout?”
“Nuthin’.”
“Y’all gotta stand guard?”
“Not tonight. Did last night.”
Melissa was silent for a moment. Then: “You wanna come over here, unner my blanket.”
“Yeah.”
“Come on then. We only got ‘til first light,” she giggled.
“Shhhh, woman. I’m comin’.”
For the next forty minutes or so, until they both went comatose from delirious exhaustion, Daniel and Melissa exercised their nuptial prerogatives and God-given birthrights beneath the North Carolina pines, covered by a moonless, black heavenly cloak, and winked at by smug, knowing and distant stars. Without the least comprehension of how or why, other than submission to the basic and instinctive act, these two otherwise insignificant young people had began a course that would change the history of the United States, if not the world. Passion and lust were again the foundation of all nature’s momentous events.
* * *
Abraham Lincoln sat in his nightshirt on the right edge of his extraordinarily lengthy bed in his bedroom in the White House and stared at his equally extraordinarily long and crooked toes. He thought that if his toes were of normal size, his shoes would be no larger than 10 or 10 1/2. And if that were the case, the other four inches would be shunted up his legs, and he would be six feet nine inches tall, rather than a mere six feet four and one half.
His legs were bare from the knees down because his nightshirt was skimpy. He considered his legs and he did not like them. They were moderately hairy and they were spindly; there was little or no muscle tone beneath the pale, slightly mottled flesh. Nothing, he thought, like his arms, which were sinewy, muscular and powerful—and incredibly long. His knees were as knobby and bulging inward as his wrists were grotesque and gnarled outward.
“Good God A’mighty,” he whispered aloud, “could I—is it possible—that I do, after all, have Marfan’s?”
Mary Todd, his wife of many years, entered the room from her own at that moment, her round, uncomely face glistening beneath a thin oil or therapeutic balm in the yellow glow from the lamp she carried, and her grayish, sparse hair was tightly knotted for bed under a gossamer linen cap.
“Marzipan? Is that what you said?” she asked. Her voice was as thin as Christmas ribbon, though not nearly so colorful. It was a whining tone, high pitched and child-like, devoid of substance or mature conviction. The president looked up at her and marveled at how unhappy that voice always sounded.
“No,” he said, “I was thinking of . . . marsupials. Or mammals, actually. Wild, shaggy beasts.”
“What? . . . What are you mumbling about?” She placed the lamp on the mahogany nightstand and took several steps across the room toward the windows overlooking the grounds leading to Pennsylvania Avenue. There was a desk in front of the tall, narrow windows on which they kept a line of books on various subjects. Lincoln noticed Mary’s own feet were also bare.
“I was thinking, Mother,” he said, “that if you were to stand in the middle of a vast plain in, say, the New Mexico territory, and let’s put you on a mound perhaps sixty feet high; and you were able to see fifty miles or so in every direction; and you were surrounded by a brown and black sea of mammals that were so close and so packed together that not a patch of ground or grass or sagebrush were visible; surrounded by a herd so immense that the entire vista for millions of square yards was layered by these animals . . . what would you be looking at?”
Mary Todd Lincoln glanced back at her husband and said nothing.
“Take a guess,” Lincoln requested.
“You’re an old fool,” Mary sighed. “I don’t like guessing games, and you knew it annoys me when you talk like an imbecile. . . I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I don’t care.”
Lincoln nodded, dejected. “I know, I know, Mother. I was just rambling. Thinking.”
His wife made a snorting noise. “You do that a lot. Rambling. It’s not becoming.”
No more becoming, the president thought, than sitting on the edge of my bed in my nightshirt contemplating my unsightly body. Aloud, “I was thinking about buffalo. Millions of them; they saturate the land from Texas to the Pacific Northwest territories. There are more buffalo on this continent than there are people in Europe and Africa and America combined.”
Mary picked up a book from the desk and started back toward her own room. “Is that a fact? Mesmerizing,” she said, sarcastically. “I’m going to bed.” She stopped in the doorway and looked back at her husband. “Why do they call them ‘buffalo’? Isn’t ‘bison’ the same thing?”
Lincoln shrugged and wondered why she didn’t take her lamp back with her to her room. “I think buffalo and bison are one and the same. Here in America you can call them one or the other . . . Do you want your lamp?”
“Just blow it out or turn it down—or off—if you don’t want it. I have another.” And she was gone.
A few moments later the president lay flat out in his bed covered only with a light quilt, his fingers intertwined behind his head, staring at the mysterious shadows racing in black and white as if cast from a kaleidoscope across the high ceiling. Abe Lincoln did not like pillows, and he never used even one. For now, his hands folded beneath his head were more than sufficient; in a while he would fall asleep, his body level, horizontal, his arms at his side; and so he would remain until the first morning light.
He thought: I may have made a mistake with Hooker. I may have moved too swiftly. Perhaps I should have consulted with Seward and Stanton on this sooner and more thoroughly. The decision was solely mine. Hooker should not have had designs on Burnside, should not have impugned his reputation, deserved or not. Hooker is the better strategist. Burnside is a humanitarian. Who is the better commander? Which is better match for Jackson? Ha! Neither. Why do I not have a Jackson? Why is he Lee’s? Why does Lee bridle him so—hamstring him and stop him from moving against us when opportunities are so ripe? Jackson will win this war for them. We cannot win against him. He will march on Washington and Baltimore; Philadelphia; even New York . . . and we will be done. Jefferson Davis will sleep in this bed. The South will gain independence. The Union will be dissolved--—turned to dust, an empty swirl, a dust devil, gone, blown away with the wind. . . .
The president took a deep breath and the tempo of his heartbeat returned to nearer normal.
I will be dead before I am sixty, he thought, assuming Dr. Herbert Fenton is correct in his diagnosis. Marfan’s Syndrome. A congenital, unstoppable deterioration of my heart muscle. In all likelihood I will not live to see the end of this abominable war. So be it. A consummation devoutly to be wished. I’ll be with you soon, Willie. Soon, my wonderful sons. Soon. Willie . . . Eddie . . . Both of you. Wait for me. Be . . . waiting for me . . . boys.
TO BE CONTINUED
Copyright©2009 by Robert A. Mills
Post a Comment new!
More Blogs by Robert A. Mills
• CANTANKEROUS - Saturday, May 18, 2013
• BOATS - Saturday, May 11, 2013
• BALANCE - Saturday, May 04, 2013
• USPS - Saturday, April 27, 2013
• TAXES - Saturday, April 20, 2013
• AUDITION - Saturday, April 13, 2013
• NASHVILLE - Saturday, April 06, 2013
• BOXER - Saturday, March 30, 2013
• COLUMNS - Monday, March 25, 2013
• VIETNAM - Saturday, March 16, 2013
• ΣAM - Saturday, March 09, 2013
• WHOA! - Saturday, March 02, 2013
• TWO - Saturday, February 23, 2013
• QUITTER - bonus - Tuesday, February 19, 2013
• GHOSTS - Saturday, February 16, 2013
• VALENTINE - Wednesday, February 13, 2013
• FBI - Saturday, February 09, 2013
• WOOLLEY - Saturday, February 02, 2013
• GRUMPY - Saturday, January 26, 2013
• FORMAL - Saturday, January 19, 2013
• PATTY - Saturday, January 12, 2013
• OFFENDED - Saturday, January 05, 2013
• LOVE - Saturday, December 29, 2012
• CHRISTMAS - Wednesday, December 26, 2012
• PEPE - Saturday, December 22, 2012
• TIME - Saturday, December 15, 2012
• TIME - Saturday, December 15, 2012
• UGA - Saturday, December 08, 2012
• MASS - Saturday, December 01, 2012
• SLF - Saturday, November 24, 2012
• THANKSGIVING- a bonus column - Wednesday, November 21, 2012
• ASSASSINATION - Saturday, November 17, 2012
• POLL - Saturday, November 10, 2012
• YOGI - Wednesday, November 07, 2012
• VOTE - Saturday, November 03, 2012
• REACH - Saturday, October 27, 2012
• WASTELAND - Saturday, October 20, 2012
• 58% - Saturday, October 13, 2012
• WACKO - Saturday, October 06, 2012
• REVIST - Thursday, October 04, 2012
• DEBATE - An addendum - Wednesday, October 03, 2012
• CRASH - Saturday, September 29, 2012
• VEEP - Saturday, September 22, 2012
• BUGLE - Saturday, September 15, 2012
• DELTA - Saturday, September 08, 2012
• ANNIVERSARY - Saturday, September 01, 2012
• INCA DINKA DO - Saturday, August 25, 2012
• METH - Saturday, August 18, 2012
• PHELPS - Saturday, August 11, 2012
• UPDATE EXTRA - Wednesday, August 08, 2012
• CHICKEN - Saturday, August 04, 2012
• OLYMPICS - a review - Tuesday, July 31, 2012
• SUMMERTIME - Saturday, July 28, 2012
• SHOOT! - Saturday, July 21, 2012
• PUN - Saturday, July 14, 2012
• DECISION - Saturday, July 07, 2012
• FREE - Saturday, June 30, 2012
• EXTRA! - Thursday, June 28, 2012
• ANNIVERSARY - Saturday, June 23, 2012
• REHEARSAL - Saturday, June 16, 2012
• BELMONT - Saturday, June 09, 2012
• 1% - Saturday, June 02, 2012
• DERIVATIVES - Saturday, May 26, 2012
• MEDICARE - Saturday, May 19, 2012
• CRIME! - Saturday, May 12, 2012
• POTTER - Saturday, May 05, 2012
• BUCKHOUSE - Saturday, April 28, 2012
• SOX! - Saturday, April 21, 2012
• SOL - Saturday, April 14, 2012
• CONTEST! - Saturday, April 07, 2012
• JUSTICE! - Saturday, March 31, 2012
• SUITS! - Saturday, March 24, 2012
• BOBBYS - Saturday, March 17, 2012
• NUNDA FUN DAYS – PT II - Saturday, March 10, 2012
• NUNDA FUN DAYS - PART 1 - Saturday, March 03, 2012
• HUTSON IS ONE! - Thursday, February 23, 2012
• TôT OU TARD! - Saturday, February 18, 2012
• MINE! - Saturday, February 11, 2012
• SOUP! - Saturday, February 04, 2012
• BUCK STOP - Saturday, January 28, 2012
• FOLLIES - Saturday, January 21, 2012
• MISFITS - Saturday, January 14, 2012
• MOHS - Saturday, January 07, 2012
• GOODBYE! - Saturday, December 31, 2011
• CITY SLICKERS -- Week of Dec 24 - Saturday, December 24, 2011
• HEADLINES - Saturday, December 17, 2011
• FIRE! - Saturday, December 10, 2011
• YEP, THE SKY IS FALLING! - Saturday, December 03, 2011
• HOBNAIL BOOTS - Saturday, November 26, 2011
• GIRL o’ WAR - Saturday, November 19, 2011
• CAIN IS NOT ABEL - Saturday, November 12, 2011
• JOHNNY CAN’T READ - Saturday, November 05, 2011
• HOLY SMOKE! - Saturday, October 29, 2011
• CELL PHONE - Saturday, October 22, 2011
• 60 MINUTES - Saturday, October 15, 2011
• BANKS CLOSED - Saturday, October 08, 2011
• ANNUAL PHYSICAL - Saturday, October 01, 2011
• A T W IN 80 MINUTES - Saturday, September 24, 2011
• HUTSON! - Saturday, September 17, 2011
• A TIME TO REMEMBER - Saturday, September 10, 2011
• TOMB AT ARLINGTON - Saturday, September 03, 2011
• GUNFIGHT AT DODGE CITY - Saturday, August 27, 2011
• NOTHNAGLE - Saturday, August 20, 2011
• A CLUTTERED BELFRY - Saturday, August 13, 2011
• CFS, FOR SHORT - Saturday, August 06, 2011
• THE MINSTREL SHOW - Saturday, July 30, 2011
• BIRTHDAY BOY RIDES (MARTA) AGAIN - Saturday, July 23, 2011
• KNOCK, KNOCK! WHO’S THERE? DEATH! - Saturday, July 16, 2011
• COMMENCEMENT - Saturday, July 09, 2011
• 234th 4th OF JULY - Saturday, July 02, 2011
• MIDNIGHT RIDE OF BOORTZ/DUPREE - Saturday, June 25, 2011
• OH, MY PAPA (& MAMA, TOO) . . . - Saturday, June 18, 2011
• ROLLING STONES - Saturday, June 11, 2011
• I DOUBLE D’AIR YA! - Saturday, June 04, 2011
• WOW—SUM BEACH - Monday, May 30, 2011
• GRAMP ON THE TOWN - Saturday, May 21, 2011
• THE UNSOCIABLE NETWORK - Saturday, May 14, 2011
• DING DONG, THE WICKED SUMBITCH IS DEAD - Saturday, May 07, 2011
• KATE PLUS MATE - Saturday, April 30, 2011
• GOP IS TRUMPED - Monday, April 25, 2011
• SNIFFING JOCKS IN ATLANTA - Saturday, April 16, 2011
• BOEHNER BLINKED - Saturday, April 09, 2011
• ROY ROGERS - Saturday, April 02, 2011
• SWEAT MORE, BLEED LESS - Saturday, March 26, 2011
• HE STILL DESERVES BETTER - Saturday, March 19, 2011
• AFTRA & EARTHQUAKES - Saturday, March 12, 2011
• ALEX IN WONDERLAND - Saturday, March 05, 2011
• THE OSCARS - 2011 - Wednesday, March 02, 2011
• FIRST BIRTHDAY, PART THREE - Thursday, February 24, 2011
• FIRST BIRTHDAY, PART II - Tuesday, February 22, 2011
• MY FIRST BIRTHDAY - Saturday, February 19, 2011
• IDES OF FEB, MINUS ONE DAY - Saturday, February 12, 2011
• FUN AT THE ICE PALACE - Saturday, February 05, 2011
• VACATION FROM HELL - Saturday, January 29, 2011
• BARBERSTOWN CASTLE - Saturday, January 22, 2011
• TRYING TO TAKE TUCSON – a bonus blog - Wednesday, January 19, 2011
• THE “BOBBYS” - Saturday, January 15, 2011
• POLITICS 101 - Saturday, January 08, 2011
• THE SNOWS OF KILIMANGEORGIA - Saturday, January 01, 2011
• WRITER'S CRAMP - Saturday, December 25, 2010
• BELLS ON CHRISTMAS DAY - Saturday, December 18, 2010
• PATTY ROBERTS, Part Two - Wednesday, December 15, 2010
• SECRET SANTA - Saturday, December 11, 2010
• PATTY ROBERTS - Thursday, December 09, 2010
• GETTING MY GOAT(EE) - Saturday, December 04, 2010
• IN FLIMFLAMS FIELDS . . . - Saturday, November 27, 2010
• PLYMOUTH ROCKS - Saturday, November 20, 2010
• LACED FOR ACTION - Saturday, November 13, 2010
• PEER PRESSURE - Saturday, November 06, 2010
• POLL CATS - Saturday, October 30, 2010
• FRIENDS - Saturday, October 23, 2010
• MY COUSIN DOUGIE - Saturday, October 16, 2010
• LOBSTER POTTED - Sunday, October 10, 2010
• A PRECIOUS GOLDEN BOBBY - Thursday, September 30, 2010
• THE KING IS DEAD (or at least in his throes) - Saturday, September 25, 2010
• STAND PAT - Saturday, September 18, 2010
• EGGS ROSAKOVIA - Saturday, September 11, 2010
• POLL CATS - Saturday, September 04, 2010
• KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE - Saturday, August 28, 2010
• (Bonus Blog) BUT WHO’S COUNTING? - Wednesday, August 25, 2010
• PEANUTS AND CRACKER JACKS - Saturday, August 21, 2010
• LUCKY STRIKE GREEN - Saturday, August 14, 2010
• AMERICARE vs. OBAMACARE - Saturday, August 07, 2010
• THE MAN WHO WOULD (temporarily) BE PRESIDENT - Saturday, July 31, 2010
• THE WEDDING - Saturday, July 24, 2010
• BUTTERFLIES ARE HAPPY - Saturday, July 17, 2010
• HATTERS ARE MAD - Saturday, July 10, 2010
• WHAT DOES THE BOSTON TEA PARTY AND THE REPUBLICAN TEA PARTY HAVE IN COMMON? - Friday, July 02, 2010
• MILQUETOAST HEADLINES - Saturday, June 26, 2010
• JAMIE DUPREE DESERVES BETTER - Saturday, June 19, 2010
• WHAT BARACK OBAMA AND HELEN THOMAS HAVE IN COMMON - Saturday, June 12, 2010
• GRANDNIECE LEIGH IS OFF TO HONDURAS - Saturday, June 05, 2010
• MEMORIAL HOLE-IN-ONE - Saturday, May 29, 2010
• GRANDNIECE EMILY GRADUATES - Wednesday, May 26, 2010
• THE MOON IS ROQUEFORT - Saturday, May 22, 2010
• LENO VS. O’BRIEN – TEMPEST IN A TV POT - Saturday, May 15, 2010
• A SHOT IN THE DARK - Thursday, May 06, 2010
• THE SOUTH SHALL RISE AGAIN – NOT - Saturday, May 01, 2010
• MARS OR BUST - Saturday, April 24, 2010
• A CUP OF TEA - Saturday, April 17, 2010
• THE TAXMAN COMETH - Friday, April 09, 2010
• DIPLOMAT OR DEMOCRAT, PART THREE - Saturday, April 03, 2010
• DIPLOMAT OR DEMOCRAT, PART TWO - Wednesday, March 31, 2010
• DIPLOMAT OR DEMOCRAT – PART ONE - Saturday, March 27, 2010
• . . . BY ANY OTHER NAME WOULD SMELL AS SWEET - Wednesday, March 24, 2010
• A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME . . . - Saturday, March 20, 2010
• WHAT’S IN A NAME? - Wednesday, March 17, 2010
• SQUEAKY’S FLEETING FAME - Saturday, March 13, 2010
• ATTICA REVISITED - Wednesday, March 10, 2010
• MARK MY WORDS - Saturday, March 06, 2010
• RADIO HALL OF FAME - Wednesday, March 03, 2010
• THE BEST HAS COME (and gone) - Saturday, February 27, 2010
• SWEAT MORE, BLEED LESS - Wednesday, February 24, 2010
• MY FIRST BIRTHDAY - Saturday, February 20, 2010
• IDES OF FEB, MINUS 1 - Wednesday, February 17, 2010
• THE ENOLA GAY - Saturday, February 13, 2010
• SUPER BOWL XLIV 2010 - Wednesday, February 10, 2010
• EARTHQUAKE - Wednesday, February 03, 2010
• AURA LEE - CONCLUSION - Sunday, January 31, 2010
• THOUGHTS ON STATE OF THE UNION, ETC - Friday, January 29, 2010
• AURA LEE - PART 21 - Wednesday, January 27, 2010
• AURA LEE - PART 20 - Saturday, January 23, 2010
• AURA LEE - PART 19 - Wednesday, January 20, 2010
• SLAINTE, AER LINGUS! - Bonus Blog - Monday, January 18, 2010
• AURA LEE - PART 17 - Saturday, January 16, 2010
• AURA LEE - PART 16 - Thursday, January 14, 2010
• BONUS BLOG – TRUTH BEHIND JAY LENO’S DEPARTURE FROM PRIME TIME - Monday, January 11, 2010
• AURA LEE - PART 15 - Saturday, January 09, 2010
• BOGUS BUT PERTINENT EMAIL - Bonus Blog - Friday, January 08, 2010
• AURA LEE - PART 14 - Wednesday, January 06, 2010
• AURA LEE -- PART 13 - Saturday, January 02, 2010
• AURA LEE -- PART 12 - Wednesday, December 30, 2009
• ALEX'S SECOND CHRISTMAS - Bonus Blog - Monday, December 28, 2009
• AURA LEE - PART ELEVEN - Saturday, December 26, 2009
• AURA LEE - PART TEN - Wednesday, December 23, 2009
• ALEX'S FIRST CHRISTMAS - Monday, December 21, 2009
• AURA LEE - PART NINE - Saturday, December 19, 2009
• AURA LEE - PART EIGHT - Wednesday, December 16, 2009
• BONUS BLOG - CHESS WITH PATTON - Monday, December 14, 2009
• AURA LEE PART SEVEN - Saturday, December 12, 2009
• AURA LEE PART SIX - Wednesday, December 09, 2009
• AURA LEE PART FIVE - Saturday, December 05, 2009
• AURA LEE PART FOUR - Wednesday, December 02, 2009
• AURA LEE PART THREE - Saturday, November 28, 2009
• AURA LEE PART TWO - Wednesday, November 25, 2009
• AURA LEE PART ONE - Friday, November 20, 2009
• ROGUE'S GONE - Monday, November 16, 2009
• NEW YORK, NEW YORK PART VI (concluded) - Friday, November 13, 2009
• NEW YORKM NEW YORK PART V (continued) - Monday, November 09, 2009
• NEW YORK, NEW YORK PART IV (continued) - Friday, November 06, 2009
• NEW YORK, NEW YORK PT III (continued) - Tuesday, November 03, 2009
• NEW YORK, NEW YORK PT. II (continued) - Friday, October 30, 2009
• NEW YORK, NEW YORK! IT’S A WONDERFUL . . . - Monday, October 26, 2009
• THE ICE PICK BOY HOAX - Friday, October 23, 2009
• YES, WE ARE COLLEGIATE! - Monday, October 19, 2009
• BULL'S EYE! - Friday, October 16, 2009
• Nobel Peace Prize - Monday, October 12, 2009
• WHAT TO MY WONDERING EARS . . . - Friday, October 09, 2009
• EARLY A.M. CALL - Monday, October 05, 2009
• FLOOD STORY - Friday, October 02, 2009
• PLAY ON, GEORGIA! - Monday, September 28, 2009
• SEE Y’ALL, IF’N THE CREEK DOAN RISE! - Friday, September 25, 2009
• "POPCORN" THEATER REVISITED - Tuesday, September 22, 2009
• OPEN WIDE - Friday, September 18, 2009
• CAMELOT IS CLOSED - Monday, September 14, 2009
• HEALTH CARE, ANYONE? - Friday, September 11, 2009
• MARTYRDOM - Monday, September 07, 2009
• CLOSE THE POOL! - Friday, September 04, 2009
• THE WEEK BEFORE LABOR DAY - Tuesday, September 01, 2009
• MORNING JOE - Friday, August 28, 2009
• LIPS THAT TOUCH WINE . . . - Monday, August 24, 2009
• KING TEDDY - Friday, August 21, 2009
• SHOP TIL YOU FLOP - Monday, August 17, 2009
• MOVIES ARE BETTER THAN EVER (?) - Friday, August 14, 2009
• THE BIRCH JOHN SOCIETY - Monday, August 10, 2009
• EVERYTHING I KNOW I LEARNED FROM SAM SPILLIOPOLIS AT THE PASTIME POOL ROOM - Friday, August 07, 2009
• SHORT PEOPLE - Tuesday, August 04, 2009
• ANDY ROONEY - Friday, July 31, 2009
• CHERNOBYL 7.28.09 - Monday, July 27, 2009
• ACTING STUPID 7.25.09 - Friday, July 24, 2009
• JUSTICE FOR SOTOMAYOR 7.21.09 - Monday, July 20, 2009
• ONLY AS OLD AS YOU FEEL 7.18.09 - Friday, July 17, 2009
• THE NATIONAL RADIO HALL OF FAME - Tuesday, July 14, 2009
• BIRTH OF THE TEDDY BEAR 7.11.09 - Sunday, July 12, 2009
• (Close Counts) 0NLY IN HORSESHOES 7.7.09 - Monday, July 06, 2009
• MAD AS HELL . . . 7/4/09 - Friday, July 03, 2009
• 4th OF JULY - Wednesday, July 01, 2009
• HOBBIES? - Monday, June 29, 2009
• LONG WAY FROM BUCK HOUSE - Friday, June 26, 2009
• NAVAL ENGAGEMENTS - Monday, June 22, 2009
• REGINA BRETT IS NO LADY BRETT ASHLEY 6.20.09 - Friday, June 19, 2009
• JULY 4th's A-COMIN'! - Monday, June 15, 2009
• WINNING THE LOTTERY - Friday, June 12, 2009
• THE TONIGHT SHOW - Monday, June 08, 2009
• PERSONAL DISCOVERY CHANNEL - Friday, June 05, 2009
• Jon and Kate, The Great Debate - Monday, June 01, 2009
• Philadelhia Lawyers - Friday, May 29, 2009
• MEMORIAL DAY 2009 - Monday, May 25, 2009
• La Isla de los Alcatraces 5/24/09 - Saturday, May 23, 2009
• CONFESSIONS OF AN INTERNET IDIOT - Thursday, May 21, 2009
• HAIL TO THE BOSS - Monday, May 18, 2009
• SAY CHEESE . . . - Friday, May 15, 2009
• NUMBER, PLEASE . . . - Tuesday, May 12, 2009
• AND THEY'RE OFF! - Saturday, May 09, 2009
• Some Enchanted Evening - Tuesday, May 05, 2009
• Fox Boycotts Obama - Friday, May 01, 2009
• RAILROADED - Tuesday, April 28, 2009
• NAKED GNOMES - Friday, April 24, 2009
• THE EYES OF TEXAS ARE UPON ME - Tuesday, April 21, 2009
• THE TEA PARTY - Friday, April 17, 2009
• HAPPY INCOME TAX DAY! - Wednesday, April 15, 2009
• THE FAIR TAX PLAN - Monday, April 13, 2009
• THE REST OF THE STORY 4/10/2009 - Friday, April 10, 2009
• A SPORTSMAN'S PARADISE - Monday, April 06, 2009
• IF AGENTS & BEST SELLERS ARE A DIME A DOZEN, HOW COME WRITERS AIN’T RICH? - Sunday, April 05, 2009
• BONUS BLOG 4.4.09 - Saturday, April 04, 2009
• TYCOON! - Tuesday, March 31, 2009
• End of Year Report - Sunday, November 02, 2008
|
|
