Monday, October 16, 2017

Monday Night Memes

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Florida Governor Has Declared A PREVENTATIVE State Of Emergency (a link)

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https://www.sarahpalinnews.com/2017/10/16/florida-governor-just-declared-state-emergency/?ref=Ads
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Trump May Reform Welfare (a link)

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https://www.sarahpalinnews.com/2017/10/16/just-trump-announces-next-focus-administration/?ref=Ads
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Vocal Vegas Witness Dies Mysteriously (a link)

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https://freedomdaily.com/vegas-witness-identified-2nd-shooter-found-dead-cops-make-sudden-shock-announcement/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=facebook
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PBS Airs Anti-Pruitt Documentary (a link)

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http://freebeacon.com/politics/pbs-airs-anti-pruitt-documentary-funded-environmentalist-group-backer/

Doesn't PBS still get government money?
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Stallone On Our Past "Manchurian" President (a link)

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https://www.dailylightify.com/2017/10/14/sylvester-stallone-says-obama-manchurian-candidate-brought-office-intentionally-destroy-america/
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Mexican Drug Cartels MAY Be Cause Of California Fires (a link)

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http://www.thegatewaypundit.com/2017/10/officials-suspect-mexican-cartel-arsonists-behind-historic-fires-california-pot-farms-burn-ground/
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Is Amazon.com resting on its laurels? (a link)

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Bayou Renaissance Man: Is Amazon.com becoming complacent, and resting on its laurels?
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Sunday, October 15, 2017

A Few Memes

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For My Farmer Friends

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How The Clintons Got Rich Off Poor Folks (a link)

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http://www.nationalreview.com/article/437883/hillarys-america-secret-history-democratic-party-dinesh-dsouza-clinton-foundation
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Three Porch Sits And Not Much Else

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I didn’t get to sleep until about 2AM this morning; then, I got up at 6 to take the pooch out again. I trudged back to bed, but the missus woke me up at 8 to tell the pooch was dying to go out again. I was NOT a happy camper. She drained a little and gave a slight dump, but I think she was mainly just bored and wanted to see my handsome face. Since I’d planned on getting up around 9 anyway, I sat on the porch with her for a full hour before going in and getting dressed and such. It was very breezy and from the wrong direction, so I knew it was blowing something up. The breeze was rowdy enough that I couldn’t hear too many other sounds. The pooch laid her head down and closed her eyes, but her little nose twitched at 90 miles an hour as she tested the wind and her ears perked up whenever she thought she heard something.

Soon after, the missus and I went to Chinamart, where she picked up some groceries for us and I picked up a few things for Mom. I got everything Mom wanted, but the missus wasn’t feeling top notch so she left before getting everything she would have otherwise. On getting home, I took the pooch out again and we sat on the porch for a little less than a half-hour before she chose to go in and check on the missus. She knows when one of us is under the weather and gets concerned.

Later, I tried taking a nap for a couple hours with only moderate success. It was 5 by the time I got up, so I took the pooch out and we parked on the porch once again. It was downright WINDY that hitch, but still rather sunny, and the wind was from the west, as is normal here. The trucks on the four-lane a mile or two away sounded like they were running up the main hollow on my place, so I knew rain was coming. The only other sounds, other than the wind, were a couple crows flying over and a few cars that went by on the country road at the front of our place.

Suddenly, at 6, the sun disappeared as a huge cloud blew in over us. The pooch noticed the difference and didn’t seem to like it. A couple minutes later, she stood up and walked the few steps to the door, wanting to go in. twenty minutes later, it was pouring down the rain and the place where she’d been lying was soaked. I guess she’s psychic.

As usual, there’s nothing interesting on the TV, so I’m copying the messages on the backs of some old family postcards so I can sell them and get some spending money for a project that I’ve got in mind. The fronts are already copied, but I wanted to save the messages, too, since the cards are those of my grandparents when my granddad worked in the oilfields. I’ve posted quite a few of them here. Maybe I’ll post another one tonight. I hope your day was a good one. © 2017
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Even BILL Doesn't Like Hillary's Book! (a link)

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https://constitution.com/clintons-collide-over-what-happened-bill-tosses-copy-in-trash/
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Weiastein Scandal Could Effect Michael Moore - Awwwwwwww! (a link)

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http://thefederalistpapers.org/us/weinstein-sex-scandal-hurts-michael-moore-and-quentin-tarantino-projects?utm_source=FBLC&utm_medium=FB&utm_campaign=LC
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DNC Comments On Weistein Contribution Is Predictable (a link)

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https://www.sarahpalinnews.com/2017/10/15/dnc-responds-harvey-weinstein-donations-well-take-look/?ref=Ads
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De Niro Curses Trump At Charity Event - Silent on Weistein (a link)

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http://www.breitbart.com/big-hollywood/2017/10/15/robert-de-niro-at-nyc-charity-event-fk-you-donald-trump/
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Your history lesson for the day.

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Robert E Lee was married to George Washington's granddaughter. He worked with Grant during the Mexican-American war and became a decorated war hero defending this country.

He believed slavery was a great evil and his wife broke the law by teaching slaves to read and write.
After the civil war he worked with Andrew Johnson's program of reconstruction. He became very popular with the northern states and the Barracks at West Point were named in his honor in 1962.

Robert E. Lee was a great man who served this country his entire life in some form or other. His memorial is now being called a blight.

This is no better than book burning. ISIS tried rewriting history by destroying historical artifacts. Is that really who we want to emulate?

As they tear down this "blight" keep these few historical facts in your mind. No military veteran and highly decorated war hero should ever be treated as such. This is not Iraq and that is not a statue of Saddam.

IN ADDITION::

Lee was also very torn about the prospect of the South leaving the Union. His wife's grandfather George Washington was a huge influence on him. He believed that ultimately, states rights trumped the federal government and chose to lead the Southern army.

His estate, Arlington, near Washington DC was his home and while away fighting the war, the federal government demanded that Lee himself pay his taxes in person.
He sent his wife but the money was not accepted from a woman. When he could not pay the taxes, the government began burying dead Union soldiers on his land.
The government is still burying people there today. It is now called Arlington National Cemetery.
DO THEY WANT TO TEAR THAT UP ALSO ??

From Facebook
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In Case You've Forgotten

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ABC News executive producer Ian Cameron is married
to Susan Rice, Obama's former National Security Adviser.
CBS President David Rhodes is the brother of Ben Rhodes,
Obama's Deputy National Security Adviser for Strategic
Communications.
ABC News correspondent Claire Shipman is married to
former Whitehouse Press Secretary Jay Carney.
ABC News and Univision reporter Matthew Jaffe is married
to Katie Hogan, Obama's former Deputy Press Secretary.
ABC President Ben Sherwood is the brother of Obama's
former Special Adviser Elizabeth Sherwood
CNN President Virginia Moseley is married to former Hillary
Clinton's Deputy Secretary Tom Nides.
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The Big Picture (a link)

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http://sixbearsinthewoods.blogspot.com/2017/10/the-big-picture.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+SixbearsInTheWoods+%28Sixbears+in+the+Woods%29
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Early Sunday Memes

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Weistein Was Easy Compared to Busting The REST Of Hollywood Perverts (a link)

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http://www.wnd.com/2017/10/weinstein-was-easy-hollywood-pedophiles-wont-be/
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Saturday, October 14, 2017

Swimming Chickens

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I’ve told this before, but not everyone was listening. You see, my dad grew up on a farm and during the Depression. They had enough to eat, but they didn’t have much spare change. Like most farm folks of the day, though, they had chickens. One was an old hen that would have tried to hatch a brick if you’d put it in her favorite nest. So when they wanted some new chicks, they’d put a few extra eggs in her nest and let her do her thing.

One day, a neighbor gave my grandma a few fresh duck eggs but, rather than cook them, she put them under the old hen. Sure enough, they hatched. Naturally, she considered them her chicks and they considered her “good ol’ Mom.” They followed her around in their little row and learned to eat bugs with the best of them. They were soon nearly as big as her, but she mothered them like the good little mama she was.

One day after some rainy weather, the creek, about 75 yards away, sent its waters out of the bank and right up to the edge of the yard. The young ducks had never seen so much water before and happily swam out into it with no thought for their poor mama. They quacked and swam and swam and quacked and had a good ol’ time. But the poor hen was SURE her babies were going to drown and ran back and forth at the water’s edge clucking frantically, trying to get those foolish young “chickens” to come back to terra firma. Still, she apparently knew better than to try going after them.

By roosting time, the water was beginning to recede and someone called the chickens into the coop for a little evening scratch feed. The ducklings came along, of course, since food was involved. They kept all the chickens in the pen the next day, until the water was back to normal, so the poor hen wouldn’t die of a heart attack.

Dad laughed as he recounted the tale, but he said that they were actually afraid the hen would go into the water after the ducklings, since she was so frantic. That just goes to show you that motherhood is one of the strongest forces of nature and that a child doesn’t have to be blood to be family. © 2017
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A Public Service Meme

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You MIGHT want to save this.

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Another Story For LL (repost)

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"Those ol' cows coming at you might be a bit more intimidating than sheep though." - LL

Funny you should say that, LL! - Me

Tony’s Last Stand


Craig was a city kid with few places to hunt, while I was a country kid with access to hundreds of acres, so maybe that was the basis of our “friendship”. Still, Craig was an intelligent, interesting fellow, and I gave him access to a way of life and a way of thinking that he wouldn’t have experienced otherwise, so I guess it was a beneficial arraignment for both of us.
He came out to the farm one early autumn Saturday, while Dad and I were running the sawmill, and asked if we’d mind him doing a little still-hunting with his bow. He was given the okay, stepped over the electric fence and headed through the pasture. Dad and I went back to work and never thought anything else about it. Later, he stopped at the mill and told us that our cattle had charged him as he walked through the pasture!
Since our cows were some of the tamest in the valley, Dad and I both knew something was amiss, so Dad asked where this event had occurred. “Right over there!” answered Craig, pointing to a spur of the ridge on the far side of the pasture. “I climbed that little hickory, hoping they’d leave when they saw they couldn’t reach me, but they must have hung around for a half an hour. I kept hoping you’d see me and come over and rescue me!” Craig looked a bit confused and offended when Dad and I broke out into near-hysterical laughter.
“They weren’t trying to charge you, they were just happy to see you!” Dad explained. He then went on to tell Craig that he’d unknowingly walked through the location where we’d been feeding them hay lately, plus the old hollow wild cherry stump there was where we put salt and minerals for them. If he’d had a bucket of grain, he told him, they’d have eaten out of the bucket, or even from his hand. Craig said he was relieved to know that he wasn’t going to have to worry about avoiding the cattle, since they were about the size of water buffalo and wandered half the farm. We all had a few more laughs about the situation before he left that day.
A few days later, Craig called to ask if he could bring his city-slicker buddy, Tony, out for a hike. Permission was granted, even though we knew that we would be delivering firewood to customers in town. That evening Craig called. Not content to be the only one feeling foolish from an experience with galloping bovines, he’d deliberately taken Tony through the same pasture when he saw that the cattle were there again, and he’d gotten similar results. As the whole herd broke into a lope, Craig shouted for Tony to follow him to the edge of the woods where they could both climb a tree. As Craig neared the timber’s edge, though, he turned to see Tony, who apparently thought he didn’t have time to make it, standing his ground with both fists clenched, preparing to go down like Custer. Tony apparently forgave Craig for setting him up, for they chummed around for several more years.

Even Dad and I learned something from the experience. From that day on, we always remembered to warn hunters and hikers about the “charging herd” phenomenon. © 2010
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Saturday Night Memes

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Steve Bannon Makes A Prediction (a link)

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https://www.sarahpalinnews.com/2017/10/14/steve-bannon-just-made-prediction-trump-supporters-cheering/?ref=Ads
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Brits Arrest 3395 For "Offensive" Online Comments (a link)

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http://www.breitbart.com/london/2017/10/14/british-police-arrest-at-least-3395-people-for-offensive-online-comments-one-year/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social
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Biting The Hand That Feeds Him (a link)

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https://dailytimewaster.blogspot.com/2017/10/maybe-cultural-tides-are-shifting.html?showComment=1508024360179#c2932083609213362374
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NFL Signs Their Own Death Warrant (a link)

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http://dailytimewaster.blogspot.com/2017/10/the-nfl-signs-its-own-death-warrant-nfl.html
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Veteran Kicked Out Of Home For Living Off-Grid (a link)

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https://thehomestead.guru/off-grid-home-condemned/?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=shtfdad&utm_campaign=shtf
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Go To Harry's! (a link)

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http://harryflashmansblog.blogspot.com/2017/10/doesnt-feel-like-october-here.html

It sounds like sometimes poor Harry's life is as boring as mine is, BUT NOT USUALLY. He makes a good point about aluminum cased ammo, but it's the memes that are the clincher today!
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New Terms: Penced (a link)

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Medley of Worship: Opus 2017-347: New Terms: Penced
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Friday, October 13, 2017

Friday Night Memes

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Chapter 3

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Chapter 3



Deac’s



Like the town of Salzburg to its north, the section of Newport, West Virginia’s North-Side once known as Sand Plains is blessed with a deep sandy loam laid down by some gargantuan early incarnation of the Ohio River. The excellent soil resulted in Sand Plains being covered with small farms and truck gardens immediately upon its “rescue” from the primordial forest. The area is completely built up and “citified” now, though, with only a few industrious souls even raising backyard gardens.
This former breadbasket of Newport is bounded on the southeast side by Waddington Creek and on the northeast by Combs’ Run. The northwest side is bordered by Emery and Dawson Avenues, while the southwest is marked by an unnamed drainage that starts on the northeast side of Reservoir Hill, skirts the base of the hill, crosses Straightway Avenue, and then traces the back of an area of 1950’s-era homes before it passes near the clubhouse of the Waddington Golf Club and unites with Waddington.
After the Old St. Ambrose Pike crosses Combs’ Run near Waddington Elementary School and becomes 45th Street, it travels roughly through the middle of Sand Plains, wandering along in a seemingly aimless manner like some drunken rounder on his way home. It’s not that the town wasn’t properly laid out from the beginning; it’s just that once the town outgrew the little shelf of land near the confluence of its two rivers, it had little choice but to follow the already established roads, lanes and cow paths that meandered in from the surrounding countryside.
Eventually, 45th Street reaches Emery Avenue, where it continues across for other areas At this point, the original St. Ambrose Pike turned left, traveled a short distance on Emery Avenue (which didn’t technically exist at the time), and then swung slightly left again onto what is now Dawson Avenue. It then meandered toward the then still-distant town which began at 13th Street in those days. Today, Dawson Avenue becomes St. Ambrose Avenue somewhere beyond the high school, to the consternation of those seeking or giving directions through the area.
The city block of which the old pike marks two sides doesn’t actually end at the “Y” where Dawson joins Emery, but continues about 75 feet onto Dawson. Until about 35 years ago, the northern corner of that block had a small home on the corner lot. Nearly touching the far side of that house was McElroy’s Hardware, complete with raised and covered sidewalk. Next was (and is) the Sand Plains Tavern, where decades of young men have gotten their first public taste of beer (often before they were supposed to do so), followed by Rumford’s Pharmacy. Ending the block, just beyond the “Y”, was Matheny Electric, a small electrical contracting company and supply shop.
At the exact point where Dawson angles off Emery, a low, narrow cement-block building with an old-fashioned false front was tucked like an afterthought between the pharmacy and the electric shop. A sign on the false front read “Deac’s Barbershop” in large blue letters, and in smaller black letters below, “Walk-ins Welcome.” To one side of the wooden-framed glass front door, the lighted, revolving barber pole tried to catch the eye of those who might have missed the sign. On the plate-glass window that made up most of the front wall were painted the words, “Four chairs, no waiting.” Of course, many days back then, that was a lie. The 15 chrome and red-leather chairs lining the left wall made it obvious that on busy days, even four barbers couldn’t keep up with the crowd. Naturally, that was before the days of men paying triple-price to get their hair “styled,” and certainly before the days of television ads selling grooming devices to attach to your vacuum which mutilate your hair to a more-or-less even length.
Some folks actually used the front door, especially old men who lived in the neighborhood and first-time customers. Most regulars, though, came through the side door at the back, up two steps, turned left past the restroom, and then stepped into the shop through an inner doorway which was closed only in the severest of weather.
The main reason most guys came from the rear was that a parking lot on the back of the block served all the businesses along the front of that block. That was before the days of handicapped parking places, so everyone had to walk, hobble or wheel from a little ways out in the parking lot, since the area near the back doors of the businesses had to be left open for delivery trucks. There was no parking along the street in front of the businesses and the little street on the far side of the electric shop was so near the intersection that it was dangerous to use. As a result, customers soon learned to wind around on the back streets to enter and exit the parking lot.
Once inside the shop, those wearing hats or coats would hang them on the chrome coat tree located by that door, since each door had its own. The next order of business was to take a good look around so you could remember those in line before you. The barbers had a surprising memory for that order, considering the constant flow of faces during the course of the day. If they did forget, it was up to the memories and honesty of the patrons to keep things straight.
Of course, from the time the customer came in the door, he was greeted one after the other by the barbers and customers with whom he was acquainted. The more genteel of total strangers would also greet him as he entered the shop. The exceptions were any barbers and customers actively engaged in telling or listening to a particularly good story or joke. For them, it was considered proper etiquette to deliver the punch-line or finish the story before greeting anyone.
Most gents then headed for the magazine rack that stood on the left side of the rear door as you faced it. It appeared to be second-hand and was made of expanded metal and steel rods painted flat black. Amongst all the chrome and red leather, it looked out of place, but it served its purpose. The selection included about six month’s worth of “the big three” outdoor magazines of the day, plus a magazine some never saw except in the barbershop which dealt with trapping, fishing and hunting. There were also a like number of car magazines with pictures of scantily-clad young ladies on the covers with the featured automobiles and similar images sprinkled throughout their pages.
Surprisingly (or maybe not), the kids and young men mostly chose the outdoor magazines, while the older fellows showed a greater interest in automobiles. For some of the youngsters, the pictures of the fish, fowl and fur-bearers in the pages of the outdoor magazines would be as close as they would ever get to the real thing. For the “car buffs”, well……you’re never too old to dream.
After the initial greetings, there seemed to be an unspoken tradition with the younger fellows not to speak unless they were spoken to first. It wasn’t that Deac or anyone else there was dictatorial; it was more like the younger fellows were afraid they’d miss something if they didn’t listen closely. It was, after all, a meeting place of their elders, some rich, some poor, some socially and politically powerful, and others who didn’t care a lick about such things and weren’t afraid to say so. The social and intellectual interaction made the shop a study in how men conducted themselves when news reporters and women weren’t around.
Women had an especially dampening effect on conversation on the rare days when some mother would bring “young Johnnie” to get his ears lowered. Deac had gotten his moniker from being an officer in one of the fundamentalist churches which thought they were the only ones chosen to go to Heaven. Still, he allowed a certain amount of ribald jokes and stories in his shop, as long as they didn’t get too disgusting or mean-spirited. However, when a lady was present, he wasn’t above reminding a fellow of that fact if things started getting a bit “colorful.” Of course that was a large part of what the younger fellows were listening for. In actuality, time spent at the shop did help many of them learn what was acceptable in semi-private conversation and what wasn’t.
There were some things of redeeming virtue that the younger fellows could pick up on, however, if such things interested them. Local history, as in the “Do you remember when…” style of conversation was a stock in trade at Deac’s. Careful listeners could also learn that business deals could be put together in a barbershop the same as in an office or on a golf course. Politics was a perennial topic of conversation, naturally, as was hunting, fishing and ball games of any sort. A few youngsters got haircuts a little more often than needed just so they could look at the outdoor magazines and eavesdrop to try catching clues about good fishing holes.
Eventually, the time would come for each fellow’s turn in one of the old-fashioned barber chairs. If you were in the middle of a magazine article, it was considered acceptable etiquette to take the magazine with you and finish it as the barber worked. After double-checking on how you wanted your hair cut, and a minute or two of making small talk, the barber would work on in silence or join in the over-all conversation in the shop.
If the customer took no reading material, the barber was duty-bound to hold up his end of the conversation if the customer wanted to talk. Of course if the guy really wanted to talk, the barber would make a good listener, a fate the profession shares with those who tend bar. It was obvious to the more observant fellows, however, that most barbers preferred their customers to take part in the free-wheeling shop-wide conversation and let their barbers do the same. Despite the interest most barbers and customers alike had in a good “bull session,” nothing was thought of a young fellow just sitting in his barber chair soaking it all in.
The time actually spent in the barber chair tended to be when the details of the shop would be noticed most by the customer. The floor was covered with the little white octagon and square tiles once frequently seen in public places—especially restaurants, government offices and public restrooms. The heavy white porcelain bases of the barber chairs blended well with floor and the large white pedestal sink behind each barber. Huge mirrors lined the upper wall behind the barbers as well as the opposite wall behind the waiting customers. Two or three shelves, loaded with clippers, combs, a vast selection of aftershaves and sundry other men’s toiletry articles, ran the length of the room between the top of the pedestal sinks and the bottom of the mirrors.
From one arm of each chair hung the razor strop, a wide strap of leather where the barbers put the finishing touches on their old-fashioned straight-razors before giving a fellow a shave. To those who’ve never had such a shave, the first time you see the barber stropping his razor, it will remind you of a samurai honing his sword prior to performing a beheading. Considering that safety razors had been invented long ago, many younger customers wondered if the fellows who got shaves weren’t just performing some macho rite like eating fugu (the poison blowfish in Japanese restaurants which will kill you if the chef doesn’t prepare it perfectly.)
Those who elected to have a shave first got their beard softened by having their face and neck covered with a steaming towel just cool enough not to scald them. After what seemed like five minutes, the barber would transfer the lather he’d been creating in his shaving mug using his boar-bristle brush, shaving soap and a few drops of hot water, to the now softened beard of his customer and then wait a couple minutes longer. Then, with surprisingly few strokes of his razor, the barber removed the whiskers, leaving the formerly bristly face and neck of the customer as smooth as the proverbial baby’s backside. After wiping off any remaining lather, the barber applied a good-smelling concoction called “bay rum,” unless the customer requested some other brand of aftershave. Of course, in those days it took a good dose to overcome the smell of the cigarette smoke hanging in the air.
If the shop wasn’t too full and the regulars were in the middle of a good story, those who had already gotten their ears lowered would hang around a little longer to see the conversation to its close. Deac had been a barber for years, so naturally he’d accumulated a sizable collection of amusing stories.
Often, though, the discussion ended up on one of Deac’s three favorite subjects: squirrel hunting, fishing or the best way to grow tomatoes. Deac wasn’t overly tall, but a life spent chasing squirrels behind his little mutt squirrel dogs, paddling his canoe to his secret fishing spots and working his country garden by hand had kept him well muscled and manly-looking in spite of the thinning white hair and bifocals that tried to give away his age.
According to Deac, his wife made the best squirrel gravy in the history of womankind, and he figured anyone with a talent like that should be given every possible opportunity to exercise it. Not surprisingly, autumn mornings often found one of the other barbers opening the shop with Deac coming in at noon to cover their lunch breaks—a twinkle in his eye and squirrel gravy on his breath.
His other two hobbies were for evenings and Sunday afternoons. His wife went fishing with him, so he didn’t have to neglect her to enjoy that interest. She went with him to his little farm in the country, too, when the weather was pleasant. Heat bothered her though, so in hot weather, she made him promise to drink plenty of ice water and take plenty of breaks, then kissed him good-bye as he left for the country and his beloved gardens.
He raised all kinds of vegetables, but his favorite was tomatoes. Long before a song came out by a similar name (in fact, he was dead by then,) he was telling folks: “Two things money can’t buy is love and home-grown tomatoes.”
One fall day, he’d heard that frost was forecast that night and left the shop a couple hours early to go pull his tomato plants and put them in the cellar to let them ripen a few more days. He didn’t tell his wife where he was going because he figured he’d still make it home by the regular time. They found him on the far side of the old settler’s log cabin, slumped over the wheel of his old ’51 pickup where it had lodged between two fence posts after his heart attack.
About that time, McElroy’s Hardware closed. It sat empty for a few years until the Sand Plains Tavern bought it, demolished it and used the lot for parking. Soon, the little house on the corner met the same fate. For a few years, the three remaining barbers rented the shop from Deac’s widow and continued in business. Then the eldest barber, Mr. Beacon, passed on. The two remaining barbers, Ned and Berkeley, continued on with the arrangement and made a decent living for a few years. During that time, Rumford’s Pharmacy closed and was purchased and demolished by the tavern owner to make yet a bigger parking lot. Businesses may come and businesses may go, but apparently beer is forever.
About that time, the mall was built in Salzburg on the site of the former sod airfield and many of the younger generation started getting their hair “styled” rather than merely cut. At the same time, many of the older customers were starting to join Deac and Mr. Beacon. Ned finally threw in the towel and went to work in a factory. Having spent the last 25 years of his life there, Berkeley decided to stick it out and continued renting from Deac’s widow. The sign out front still said “Deac’s Barbershop,” just like it always had.
Eventually, Deac’s widow passed on too, and the heirs sold the property to a local developer. The same fellow bought Matheny Electric’s lot when they closed their doors. He then razed both buildings and put in a tiny two-building strip mall with most of the parking on the front of the lot. At Berkley’s request, however, a small shop was put on the back side of the left-hand building. The sign painted on the big plate-glass window said, “Berkeley’s Barbershop.”
Considering that he’d started at Deac’s in the mid-50’s,  some younger customers had never gotten a haircut anywhere except Deac’s and then Berkley’s, except for the four months it took to build Berkeley’s new place. Berkeley didn’t get rich in his new shop, but he made enough to live on and always seemed content there. He kept track of how many haircuts he’d given in his life and told folks that he was going to retire to Florida when he hit the quarter-million mark.
He reached that goal one June morning in his 71st year, locked the door, pulled down the shade, gave the shop its final cleaning, put a sign in the window that said “retired”, got in his car and went home. A week later, he and his wife were in Florida.

Some locations just seem the logical place for certain businesses, though. Within a few months, a lady barber had reopened the shop under a different name. It still has the same hardware that Berkeley salvaged from Deac’s old shop, but the feminine touch gives the place a different atmosphere. Still, she’s regained a surprising amount of Berkeley’s business. The old-timers say that they miss the old days and some of the free-wheeling conversations of those times, but at least she gives them an “honest haircut instead of one of those derned styles.” Copyright 2008
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Middle Class Morality: Moderation (a link)

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Medley of Worship: Opus 2017-346: Middle Class Morality: Moderation
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Thursday Night Football Down Despite "Hiding" Anthem (a link)

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https://www.hannity.com/content/2017-10-13-free-fall-thursday-night-football-ratings-tank-as-nfl-hides-us-anthem/
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Weinstein's Contract Provided For Sexual Harassment Charges! (a link)

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https://www.sarahpalinnews.com/2017/10/13/leaked-harvey-weinsteins-employment-contract-will-make-skin-crawl/?ref=Ads
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NFL Now Viewed As One Of The Most Divisive Brands In America (a link)

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http://www.breitbart.com/sports/2017/10/13/nfl-now-viewed-one-divisive-brands-america/
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The Duck Commander Is Back (a link)

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https://www.sarahpalinnews.com/2017/10/13/duck-commander-back-bang-announces-new-show/?ref=Ads
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Sessions Rings Death Nell For Obamacare (a link)

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http://thefederalistpapers.org/us/sessions-defends-order-ending-obamacare-subsidies-executive-cant-spend-money-like?utm_source=FBLC&utm_medium=FB&utm_campaign=LC
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HHS Used IRS To Push Obamacare (a link)

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https://www.judicialwatch.org/press-room/press-releases/judicial-watch-documents-show-hhs-used-irs-push-obamacare-use-confidential-taxpayer-information-raises-legal-questions/
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Louisiana Sheriff Boycotts FORD Over NFL Stance (a link)

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https://www.hannity.com/content/2017-10-13-true-patriot-louisiana-sheriff-leads-ford-boycott-over-nfl-protest-stance/
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Thursday, October 12, 2017