Saturday, September 27, 2008
I can't believe it's been two years from the first picture to the last picture. (Okay 1 year, 51 weeks to the last picture but it's pretty close). For a guy who had come to accept that he'd never have a son to hearing such a wonderful little boy yell "Daddy!" every time he sees me is simply a miracle. I couldn't ask for a better son and feel blessed that you're in my life Holden Ryne. I know that my best intentions aside, we'll have some ups and downs and bumps over the years of you growing up but my goal will never change. I promise I'll do my best to be a good father. I'm hoping I do my job well enough that when you've grown and gone out on your own I won't be just your Dad but someone you'll want to call a friend as well. I love you little guy. Happy birthday.
Monday, September 22, 2008
More crying tree hippies
This is fantastic. Go here first if you haven't already watched the original.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Friday, September 12, 2008
Who among us hasn't told a paraplegic to stand and be recognized?
Our boy Joe Biden gave a speech and told Democrat Chuck Graham to stand up and be recognized. Chuck Graham is a paraplegic. Fantastic work Senator.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
A Lesson In Friendship
From the September issue of Bits and Pieces.
Here is a story from a reader that illustrates
what can happen when we take a friendship for
granted.
WHEN I WAS SIX, my older brother and I were
followed home by a stray dog who’d been hang-
ing around a livery stable. I took some meat
from the house and fed it to him. And from that
moment on, I had a new best friend. I called
him Butch.
Butch accompanied me every morning on
my paper route. He even helped me with the
contest I entered to sign up new subscribers.
While I spun a tale of how I hoped to sell extra
papers to earn the money to buy my dog a li-
cense, Butch would sit nearby looking sad. It
worked like a charm.
That winter, a friend gave me an old dog
harness that I used to hook up Butch to the
sleigh. By now, he knew the paper route by heart.
Butch pulled me around the neighborhood as
I threw the papers from the sleigh. We were
inseparable.
But things changed after I went to high
school. When I discovered girls, I spent less
time with Butch. And he didn’t like that.
Once, we visited my friend George whose
dad was a blacksmith and worked out of a barn
on their property. I don’t know if it was the
horses or the hay that evoked memories of the
stables, but Butch immediately took a liking to
the place.
George made a big fuss over Butch. He fed him
and played with him. And when it was time to
go home, Butch didn’t want to leave.
There were times after that when Butch
would go off and not return for days. I soon
learned that Butch was hanging out at George’s
place, and sleeping over.
One day, I was coming out of my dad’s cof-
fee shop with Butch. George walked by and
called out to him. Was George trying to steal
my dog? I called out to Butch, too. For a few
moments, Butch just sat there looking between
us. Then he got up and went to George. I was
heartbroken.
That day I learned that the best way to keep
a friend is to be a friend.
Contributed by reader David M. Vassos
Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Maybe McDonald's isn't so bad
Why must commercials from other countries be so much better than ours?







