Wednesday, January 6, 2016

IDEALS FOR EUSTIS

Is there a pedestrian bridge over, or tunnel under, Bay Street underway? So that street that performs like a highway becomes safer for pedestrians, and promotes downtown business stability with people comfortably accessing Ferran Park? Train updated for frequent scheduling for casual day trips around the Golden Triangle so it's not just Mt. Dora prospering from proximity to Orlando? Investment engaged to consider turning the former Waterman Memorial Hospital downtown land into a state-of-the-art retirement community complex? So the real mixing of age groups that made Eustis such a brilliant place to be raised is vibrantly reproduced.

Then there's this the world over. Fix The Sidewalks
And memorialize those oak trees that lined Orange Avenue and were sacrificed for widening 50 years ago.  

And ya know how life goes about fifty years. Sounding like a tremendous amount of time. While memories know it's just yesterday. The conversation with my father about how replanting lost more homeowner property when they/we'd all already given up a lot. Sure had. A brilliant oak lined avenue fit for treasuring cars not just our idea civilization loves being carted around. Ah. Well. Point is take care of trees. In a sense they pay nature more than we do. Tree hugger? Is there no shame? 

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IDEAL EUSTIS TALE?

Is this sideline story, published here first, that could make people uncomfortable. Except my role's highlighting my opinion of the truth as is any writer's task. So once upon a time a short, sickly at birth, youngster nicknamed Happy by his parents because he always seemed to be laughing and having a good time as a baby, turned into an uncommonly, arrogantly, ambitious child. Except for his extreme shyness around girls that developed due to his being overwhelmed by the extreme pulchritude of everyone of the female persuasion in his hometown. 

And so it was on this one particular day that he went to the home where all the neighborhood kids went to play sports and tag that would last hours. Even being an occasion for the last time his father spanked him when the kids convinced him to continue playing hide-and-seek when the streetlights came on that was his time to go home and his father met him on the path behind the neighbor's house, while he was running home, and grabbed his right arm and walloped his behind. After which telling his mother the episode was too violent and he never hit Happy again and they went back to the system whereby Happy'd feel too terrible defying his parents making that punishment enough. Being treated as a child was not really how a young man who had to grow up fast should be treated. 

But this particular day the older boys decided, as was their inclination, to exclude Happy and so they had him hang around by the garage with a dog that belonged to one of the other boys and he was warned not to be friendly with the pet because the dog could get ornery

So literally four decades before his eventual wife would say all dogs are good and feed them even candy, if that's all there was available, to the most vicious fenced up guard dogs, Happy decided he'd be friendly as the dog was to him too. Except when the dog bit him and he cried and the boys came, not startled but telling him he'd been warned and the episode became hilarious when Happy screamed he'd have the owners sued for their dog's being allowed to have such a disposition. 

Well. At home his mother medicated the wound and calmed him down and the next day was told of her being called by that county's Sheriff to make sure he was okay as the dog belonged to him and his son. Fascinatingly enough, for Happy, during his early high school years one of the nicest people towards him was a cousin of theirs whose father also went on to become that county's Sheriff. 

Now. (See Sheriff link for the dog's owner's tyrannical history.) These facts are not being recounted as an act of revenge or to sound more properly moral in light of the racist atmosphere that permeated that town as the first black person in Happy's school didn't occur till his fifth grade year over a decade after that grossly, preposterously, racist nonsense had been allowed to permeate the spiteful culture for a century after the supposed ending of that cultural nonsense had been theoretically put in its' proper place

Needless to say the young world conqueror had to be educated to the fact his parents considered not moving there because of the actions of that particular Sheriff who was literally on record as having ruled that county with an iron racist fist. So he must act accordingly and not unsafely push that man. 

So. If readers wonder why I apparently don't care who or what authority I stand up to as a writer, defying their power to disregard me? There's two reasons. 

1. Free Speech
2. I'm not a child anymore and will push satire's envelope limitlessly for the result that this world truly faces Allah/God believing everyone's your chosen people.
Link to church where when preparing to sing 
We Three Kings before the whole congregation, 
another child responded, "Happy's the black one." 
So 3. My name's Charles Malcolm Fraser and I don't care what peaceful means anyone finds unnecessary for me to use. Because I've had it with the lot of this world's excuse ridden, riddled, racist nonsense. George W. Bush you better G__ d___ed well apologize for claiming the right to perpetrate the cycle of violent revenge in God's name because I'm making an example of your claim this racist nonsensical holy war/jihad bull-crap is and was your responsibility to end. This constant military solution when anyone with a clue can see Isis' children were born of you and your co-horts MISTAKES. Pragmatic? I confront you as a liar. Allah/God have mercy on your and Dick Cheney and all your other false brethren neocons' souls for perpetrating the continuation of this godawful bloody mess, cycle of revenge, you hypocrite of the lowest order. I actually don't believe God/Allah needs a revenge of that magnitude and maybe it's reserved for me. But my dare is you apologize or go to Hell. Thank Allah/God's judge because there's not enough time in the world for me to care to listen to another of your excuses.

Uh. See? Turned out I wasn't just after Sheriff McCall after all. I'm just a sarcastic s.o.b. What can I say, the world's an oyster irritating the hell out of me?
As of 4:13 PM Eastern Standard Time, January 12, 2016, 
there's been no sufficiently acceptable world-wide public apology from former American dictator-ish President George W. Bush. Presidential Candidates may excuse you to appeal to a percentage of the American Electorate and I'm just a Soapbox View. But in lieu of no emphatic sincere apologyGo To Hell.
Plus to emphasize how ticked I am. Maybe mommy will pray for you and good luck with that. But I recommend an apology, to start. 
Duh Dubya. I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!!

And freaking, yes freaking, North Korea's playing with weapons. The crises established by the pathological sense of ruling war while acted upon as if it's actually not known where they could have possibly gotten defeatist ideas like that. C'mon, can't everyone say hypocrite?
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In praise of Thomas H. Poole Jr., Dr. James Glisson and T.H. Poole as without their efforts our town would still be the most important in the world for me but just not as great.
And don't forget. Women Are Progress' Barometer.

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