Tag Archives: senior citizens

Culinary arts, broken toes and peaches

Hi readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read.

Because of the differences in our dietary idiosyncracies Jeanne and I don’t cook much for one another, almost never anything shared.  I usually cook breakfast for her, but only as a separate deed.

So yesterday when she pronounced she was going to make two [2] peach pies, one for me without salt, one for herself, I was only surprised she was doing one for me.  She carefully cut up the peaches, got everything ready but the crusts, then refrigerated it all.

I thought she’d already found the crust recipe she’d been searching for.  But there she was barefoot by the bookcase, holding the 10 pound, The Victory Cook Book, Binding of the American Woman’s Victory Edition published in 1943.  Edited by Ruth Berolzheimer, director of the Culinary Arts Institute.

Great book.  Dedicated to General Douglas MacArthur.

“His heroic leadership and gallant fight against overwhelming odds should inspire every American woman to make the most of daily opportunities to support the war effort in her home and in every sphere of worthwhile activity.”

Nice full page pic of Dugout Dug inside opposite the dedication, him having recovered from his nighttime scurry out of Manila leaving his command to surrender to the Japanese, Death March across Bataan, that sort of thing.
But I digress.

Jeanne tried to lift that book and SPANG, it slipped out of her hand!  She doesn’t have much strength in it because it was broken a while back, and it’s not easy for her to remember. CRUMP went Douglas MacArthur and all the cuisine prepared by the women of America supporting WWII.

Jeanne doubled over in pain and I hopped up figuring I’d try to help.  But Jeanne just lost WWII and the War in the Pacific, broke at least one toe, possibly two.

By the end of the evening the one toe was swelling and turning purple.  We were alternating artificial ice in and out of the freezer, and she was in a lot of pain.  The toe is purple enough for most usual purposes today and swollen, but she’s able to get around.

All the peaches are there in the fridge, but I’m thinking I might just figure on eating them without pie crust.  She’s going out with friends tonight and planning to be busy today, so I don’t think cooking pie is in the cards.

I suggested she tell her friends when they ask why she’s limping, tell them I pissed her off and she sidekicked me in the head.  If she doesn’t take me up on it she’s missing one hell of a good story.

Old Jules

Flashback: ‘Squirrelly’ Armijo Survives his own Funeral

Hi readers. I saw on Yahoo News that someone faked his own funeral. Got me remembering Squirrelly Armijo. So I searched for a post I was fairly certain I made in the deep history of this blog: Squirrelly didn’t fake his, except by accident.

A legendary man in the Quemado/Reserve area nicknamed ‘Squirrelly’ Armijo had a good working claim down near Queen’s Head in the Gallos near Apache Creek in the 1940s through the 1960s. Maybe that’s where he came across a skeleton, and probably just figured he might as well take it home, so he put it in his truck.
Driving up those winding mountain roads he lost control of the truck and rolled it. Squirrelly was thrown clear and the truck caught fire. He must have been out of his head, maybe with a concussion, because he evidently wandered into the mountains in a daze.

The police arrived and found the burned out truck with a skeleton inside and assumed because the truck belonged to him the remains were Squirrelly’s. He was pronounced dead, an expensive funeral held, and he was buried.

Twelve days later Squirrelly wandered out of the woods several miles away, which was a source of, first joy and awe, then suspicion. Initially it was thought he’d killed the person the skeleton belonged to. Then the lawsuits began, the Armijo family and the Funeral home arguing heatedly about who owed money to whom for burying some anonymous skeleton.

The story is so well-known it was used in a book about forensic pathology in New Mexico during the 1990s, the forensic pathologist explaining such a thing could never happen these more enlightened times. Journey in Forensic Anthropology, Stanley Rhine, University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque, 1998. Author Rhine elected to change Squirrelly’s surname to Aramando to avoid any sort of civil action. The Armijo family’s been herding sheep in that country since the time there was nobody out there but them and Mimbres Apaches. A lot of them are still there.

“A Premature Funeral

“Bones and Fire
“On June 4, 1959, Forest Service lookouts reported smoke rising from what was assumed to be a small forest fire just east of the Arizona state line, among the 8,000-feet peaks of the San Francisco Mountains of southwestern New Mexico. A firefighting crew dispatched to the scene discovered no forest fire, but an automobile burning furiously on the side of a gravel forest road. Dousing the flames, they found a mass of burned flesh, a skull, some other bones, and some teeth resting inside the burned-out hulk.

“The car was found to belong to a Mr. Armando, well known in the
lightly populated region. His fiery demise prompted the organization of a six-person coroner’s inquest in Catron County. According to former Catron County Sheriff and now Washoe County ( Nevada) Coroner Vernon McCarty, the “six responsible citizens” required by 1950s New Mexico law were most easily found by the justices of the peace at a local bar.

“McCarty observed that an insufficiency of able-bodied citizens could be remedied either by visiting several such spots or by prolonging the official quest at one of them for as long as it took to empanel the necessary six people.

“The resulting coroner’s jury in this case was made up of ranchers, Forest Service firefighters, two bartenders, and a service station attendant. It concluded that the remains were “badly burned and charred beyond positive identification,” according to the Albuquerque Journal for June 17, 1960. Nonetheless, an identification was made by Armando’s two brothers-in-law and the district attorney, apparently functioning in his multiple roles of death investigator and skeletal “expert.” That it was Armando was attested to the by the fact that the human skull was accompanied by some impressively large upper incisors. These prominent choppers had . . .”

Probably Squirrelly never paused to wonder about any moral or ethical issues when he put that skeleton into his truck. He just did it absent-mindedly the way any of us might. Probably somewhat as Mel did on Gobblers Knob:

Exploring Alley Oop’s Home Circa 1947.

I suppose the Squirrelly story came to mind because it’s a synopsis of the possibilities carried to the ultimate extreme, accompanied by the fact I recently had an email from his great-nephew wanting to ask some questions about my mention of his Queenshead claim in my lost gold mine book.

Old Jules

Previous posts: Skulls, skeletons and homicides:

The Ruin Skull – A Long Day Ago

Cold Mystery, Fevered Romance and Lost Gold

The Strangeness – Background Context of Unsolved Homicides

The Who-Ya-Gonna-Kill-Next Lottery tickets on sale at your Army Recruiter

Hi readers.  Back in the summer of 1961 the Rooskies were building the Berlin Wall and naturally we were all scared shitless they’d be wanting France or Britain next.  Because we were all dumber than cluckshit and we believed what the US government told us.

Anyway, July 1961, I was feeling patriotic as hell, wanted to kill me some young Russian guys.  Maybe shoot them, blow their damned brains from hell to breakfast.  Or maybe stab them with a bayonet close up, personal and bloody.  So I joined the US Army figuring they were the only branch of the service that actually rubbed up against Rooskies.

Damned Navy guys just floated around safely out in the ocean in ships loaded up with guns and munitions, never get a shot at a single Rooskie, most likely.  And the Air Force guys trained with .22 caliber rifles.  Jeeze.  Whoooo wants to shoot a damned Russian kid with a .22?  Stupid damned Air Force guys didn’t even march around carrying full field packs.

And the US Marines sounded okay, but how the hell would a Marine get all the way over to where there were Rooskies to be killed?  Ivan was going to be trying to hide behind that Berlin Wall.  Getting at him would be a job for good old American dogfaces, climbing over that wall and charging into machine guns aimed by Rooskie kids.  The best a Marine could hope for was maybe getting a chance to kill a Chinaman.

Whell hayuls bayuls!  I spent three years, went through the Cuban Missile Crisis, sea cruised to Japan and Korea and back, and never got to kill nobody, and especially not some Rooskie teenager with a bayonet nor hand grenade.

So I came home and the Vietnam War geared up, and I got out.  The guys who went in just after I did ended up killing all manner of brown people who didn’t need killing, but no damned Rooskies.  Nor Chinamen, either.

Later on guys volunteered to go kill brown people in wossname, Kuwait, Iraq, and that other place over there, Africanistan?  Something along those lines, anyway.  But the Rooskies had donealready pulled all their teenagers back inside their boundaries and good American boys couldn’t get at them.

But there’s still hope.  Some damned warlord over there is making a nuisance of himself and threatening to send some teenagers off to get their asses blown away, and the guy, wossname, in the White House is making noises suggesting he might lie claiming those Rooskie kids need killing.

He ought to have a belly full of killing brown people by now.  Rooskie white kids would be a refreshing change.  And meanwhile there’s that hodgepodge thing going on over in Western Iraq and Syria where the sky’s the limit.  Hells bells, just kill anythng that moves and you’ll hit someone who hates our guts.  Because we’ve probably blown the legs off their relatives one-time-or-another.

As a backup plan, if our boys run out of people to drop explosives on, there’s always white people living in Israel, but they’re harder targets, hiding in colonies over in Palestine.
Old Jules

 

 

 

Someone needs to tell the wife of that ex-US President to hush the hell up

Now the damned woman’s saying this guy in the What House should be showing leadership.  Jaysus H. Cheeeerist!  Leadership is the last thing we need in the What House.  Leadership manifested in the human form of a series of What House residents is what got us into this mess.

Leadership, for that matter, is what the What House missus and her butch ladyfriend, Janet Reno, demonstrated when they lined up the US Army, the US Navy, the US Airforce, the FBI, the DWI, the AWOL and everyone else available and  burned  Mount Pleasant down around the ears of dozens of men, women and children Christians.  Texas Christians.  Texas Christians who were never accused of breaking any Federal statute.

No, leadership, now and for the remainder of the 21st Century, is forbidden to enter the US Office of President.  Especially if anyone aspiring to that office should be elected to it.

Henceforth US leadership needs to come more openly from Israel.  Which is where it’s been coming from all along, but now it needs to be open and aboveboard about it.

At which time the systematic occupation of the What House by women, women of Hispanic Origin, women of Asian Origin, women of Native American Origin, women of female Origin can begin and continue until all catagories and subcatatories of women have occupied the What House, redecorated it, given it some tasteful alterations, new drapes and re-upholstered all the furniture.

Old Jules

Hell, no wonder I can’t freaking breath! Damned hole in the ozone layer plugged up my nostrils.

This is actually good news. I thought something was going wrong with my health.

Old Jules

I took a leak beside Jesse Jackson

Hi readers.  New Orleans, maybe 1987, somewhere in there.  The year Jesse Jackson ran for Prez.  I was there for the American Public Health Association Convention and Jesse [I figure we’re close enough now so’s I can call him Jesse] was speaking at the next session.  But right now there was a General Assembly and all that dreary nap-taking I’d slipped away from.

So there I was, standing in front of a urinal in the New Orleans Convention Center and two giant black guys step up behind me, tell me I’ve got to get out-the-restroom.  I scowl and tell them I’ll be gone in a sec, but trying to speed the process wouldn’t help.

One of them touched my arm and I explained, while still occupied below, I wasn’t looking for sex.  I mentioned it because a lot of attendees at the APHA that year were definitely looking for sex in the restrooms.  They were giving away rubbers on the Exhibit Area booths and people were running back and forth from the rubber exhibits to the restroom stalls to try them out.

The black guy in a suit I’d just explained about not looking for sex to paused a moment and seemed to debate what to do next when Jesse Jackson stepped up, patted him, grinned at me, and told him, “It’s all right.  I got to piss!”

From that time until this I’ve always considered myself something of an expert on racial relations.

Anyway, I just want to say, I think Jesse would have stood up better under scrutiny if he’d stayed the hell out of Ferguson, him and Al Sharpton, both.

Everyone else who doesn’t live there, also.

Fact is, this is going to run the whole course, due process is going to see the light of day.  It’s too big and too widespread for anyone to sweep it under the carpet.

Due process.  Which is the best anyone can hope for.  Nobody knows precisely what happened, nobody’s seen all the evidence, and no good will come from any of us trying to second guess it now.  It is no longer our affair.

You, and Jesse Jackson, and I, and everyone else probably don’t need to be trying the almost certainly guilty-as-hell cop on the Internet.  A jury is going to do that.  Plenty of admissible evidence will come forward and some sort of justice will be done, one-way-or-the-other.  It’s how America works.

And if they turn him loose even under national scrutiny the folks in Ferguson can hunt him down and lynch him.  It’s how things have been done throughout American history whenever the law didn’t properly atone for the sins where racial matters are involved.

The tail end of due process, more-or-less.

Old Jules

Is Ferguson Missouri a Hoax??

Chimp-Out in Ferguson Missouri

New video from Ferguson Missouri shooting death of Michael Brown – LoneWolf Sager

New Ferguson Missouri Witness, Has Different Version! MVI 3163

Another WITNESS To Michael Brown SHOOTING Comes Forward; Video Shows GRAPHIC Scene!!

Witness Gives Chilling Details On The Execution Of Mike Brown

Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson Booed Off Stage in Ferguson Missouri

Niger Innis calls Sharpton, Jackson, and New Black Panthers ‘Racial Arsonists’

The dual-citizenship US/Israeli friend to So Far From Heaven

Perhaps you readers will find this anecdote interesting and edifying.  I certainly do.

So Far From Heaven blog has a reader and sometimes commenter who holds dual US/Israeli citizenship.  Not to suggest it’s unusual.  I might be the only US citizen alive who doesn’t hold dual Israeli citizenship.

But this So Far From Heaven reader is special.  Back during the Vietnam War, maybe 1966-67, he adopted Judaism and fled to Israel to avoid the draft.  Became a weaponry salesman for Israel, maybe to Israel, probably helping them furnish weapons for every drug lord in South America.

And a thoroughly interesting, admirably loyal [to Israel] US citizen. http://leanpower.wordpress.com/

Yeah, this guy was a sight to behold back in the day.  Running along the railroad tracks with a backpack full of rocks in training for the Israeli army when he arrived in Israel sometime hence.  He knew if he became an Israeli he’d have to be in the military, but Israel never loses anyone in their wars.

Tens of thousands of casualties in the armed forces the Israeli military attacks by surprise and defeats.  A few hundred Israeli casualties.  Fell off trucks or something, most likely, or accidentally shot themselves.

Look up the statistics on every Israel war if you don’t believe me.  Any one.  Take your pick.  Look at the Israeli casualty counts, and the body counts of the countries they attacked.  Including the USS Liberty.  No Israeli casualties on that surprise attack on a US warship lasting several hours.  Not one.

Obviously our Israeli/US citizen reader/draft-dodger knew that.  He picked a winner for a country he could ‘serve’ in complete safety.  And when it was all over he came back to the Good Old US of A to buy and sell big guns.

They’re everywhere.  Even here on So Far From Heaven.

Old Jules