In 1988 the government of Iran executed 30,000 citizens for protesting their leaders policies. In February of 2026, withing a four-day period, the government of Iran executed upwards of 35,000 of its population for protesting an oppressive regime, their own.
And some say Donald Trump is a ruthless King.
Iranian regime launches execution spree over growing fears of another uprising
In 1987 I was a high school basketball coach in Illinois. I don't know how kids are today when it comes to manners, but I would say when it comes to civil discourse we've deteriorated.
While coaching in a game a player became totally disgusted with how our team was not playing defense. A referee called a foul on one of his team members and the kid, Derrick, said out loud, "Our defense sucks" and a referee immediately whistled him for a technical foul for using bad language.
Times have changed, haven't they? It seems as though one of our political parties is now using the F word as standard operating procedure. As an example:
A Democrat congresswoman is in hot water after making a profanity laced rant on X about President Trump’s recent appearance to the Supreme Court as Justices have oral arguments on birthright citizenship.
Democrat Rep. Susie Lee of Nevada wrote, “I’ll pray they f*ck him to his face. Sorry, I say f*ck a lot these days.”
Need I go on?
For some reason, now that I'm an octogenarian, I've been reflecting a great deal on situations and people from my distant past. It's like my life is flashing before me nonstop. For example, last week I thought about Mr. and Mrs. Gorey. They were an elderly couple who lived across the street from our Clinton Street home. I have no idea how or why they crawled into my brain since it was 1951 and I was five years of age. Or, I recalled the time my Grandpa and I were driving around Boone(Iowa) and he asked me if I wanted a candy bar so we stopped into a grocery store and I purchased a Smooth Sailin' for a nickel. It was a popular bar at the time. Why in the name of Mars bars would think of a Smooth Sailin'?
I've also been thinking a great deal about life experiences for which there is not a simple explanation and that they were preordained. Please understand I'm a firm believer that God controls aspects of our lives that have been planned out for us. These are the ones with life shattering results that have long range ramifications; ones that can change our lives for better or worse and if I can't prove this, I can surely give you pause because it's Twilight Zone stuff.
It was May of 1964 and a group of my buddies, five in all, decided we'd drive from our hometown and see a movie in Des Moines which was an hour away. The film was titled 'A Shot In The Dark' starring Peter Sellers and Elke Sommer. Since we'd previously seen Sellers first comedy, 'The Pink Panther', we just knew this would also be a comedic hit. So, we headed out for the Ingersoll Theater and upon arrival we told the film began at 3 pm instead of 1:30. This meant we had to goof around to kill time. As it was, we drove a couple miles and stopped on Grand Avenue which happened to be a major street in that City. It was lined with big Elm trees and magnificent homes built in the post-Civil War period. If you don't know, because you're too young, the Elm was about to disappear due to a disease but that's another story. Anyway, we happened to park the car and strolled up to four businesses on that street. One was a women's dress shop. Another a candy store. As I said, we were trying to kill time. I happened to be standing next to Steve, a friend, and as we stared through the windows for no apparent reason, I said, "Steve, I just had the weirdest feeling. The girl I'm going to marry lives real close to here." I ask you, what dorky eighteen-year-old would come up with such a thing? I mean, the most important part of my life up to that time was making sure I wore clean underwear. What kid in his right mind would utter such a thing. I don't recall what Steve said in response but I'm sure it was something along the lives of "Oh, shut up." In those days we didn't say STFU!
Let's fast forward to 1969. I was a high school teacher and always on the lookout for weekend activities. Besides, the school in which I taught had 600 people. It was sort of impossible to buy a beer at the local tavern without everyone, including the school principal's dog knowing about it. I had a buddy who was in his senior year at Iowa State. He was in a fraternity and on weekends there were always parties where we could go insane and make fools of ourselves. At one of these functions, I met a coed and I was immediately smitten. We dated for one month and I just knew she was going to be my forever partner. Surprisingly, she felt the same so much so that she invited me to go to her hometown and meet her parents who happened to live in Des Moines. This was a big deal for me to meet her mom and dad and all that jazz. When we pulled into the driveway of her home it hit me square between the eyes and the shocking part is I had not once remembered what I told Steve five years earlier until that moment. The shocker is this. My gal, the love of my life, lived exactly two blocks from the stores on Grand Avenue. Hold onto your shorts because directly across the street from those same stores was St. Augustin's Catholic Church. If you haven't figured it out by now that church was where we were married. As Paul Harvey would have said, "And now you know the rest of the story."
Predestination or coincidence? Seriously? For the big moments in life God always has a plan.
There seems to be a great deal of talk among the so-called experts as to whether we're about to enter World War III. Many folks seem to believe it's right around the proverbial corner. Granted, there seem to be multiple wars taking place around the world. To the average person it might seem the earth is a powder keg and they could be right. Biblically speaking many religious types compare Old Testament prophecies with the happenings in the Middle East.
All these wars got me to thinking about the twentieth century and what the landscape looked like then. People, it wasn't pretty. I've copied a listing of conflicts(wars) from 1900 through 1944. Yikes!
Now that I've left my 70's I've made the decision to pitch what can be called junk. I mean, why should Her Majesty be burdened with hauling my garbage to the curb after I'm gone. Actually, there have been quite a bit of shoes, shirts, suits, etc. that have already found their way to Goodwill. But, I've also saved items that have a special meaning.
The true test of a person's love of the game is this. Take a glove then pour softening oil in the glove pocket and rub it all over. Then, and this is most important, stick your nose in it and take a whiff. The memories will come flooding back and you'll magically become a kid again. You've vividly recall special moments in games you played. Trust me on this. It works.
I will never, ever put my gloves in the garbage. The Queen promised she'd put them in my casket so I can play ball for eternity and I believe her, maybe.
Is it possible three years have passed since I lost my best friend, Charlie? He was my buddy like no buddy ever before. Charlie wasn't my dad nor my uncle. He wasn't a cousin or even a high school classmate. He was man's best friend, and he was tragically killed by a car in front of our home. To say I was devastated isn't close to the truth. I shed more tears on him than I thought possible.
For three months I remained in mourning when, finally, I knew I had to mend my broken heart. I went on the lookout for another Charlie, a sweet and lovable fantastically intelligent Cairn Terrier, knowing all too well there would never be anyone who could take his place. I had called a dog rescue in Portsmouth, Ohio to inquire about a Cairn. "Yes," I was told, "we have one." I jumped in my car and headed two hours south to a location on the banks of the Ohio River. When I came to the front desk and introduced myself I was told the stray had been adopted. With great discouragement and a bit of sadness I turned around and drove back to our home in Dublin, Ohio but still determined to salve my sorrow.
Three days later, as I was searching the internet for almost any puppy, I came across a dog rescue outfit a half hour from our home then drove over to see if they had adoptees and they did. The lady who ran the operation brought out a mix Jack Russell and she was the saddest pup I'd ever seen. If I were still carrying a broken heart, which I was, this poor little thing only added to my sorrow. The owner of the operation placed her on the ground. She lifted her head slowly and looked at me and with her eyes all I saw was a precious little creature from God seemingly saying, "Help me."
When her five-year history was relayed to me, I realized one thing I needed to do for this little gift and that was to give her a home and sixteen tons of love; something she had never experienced.
According to what I was told by her rescuer was she was born in Kentucky and was found behind a sheriff's office, abandoned and was approximately two weeks old. Her next stop was to the local dog pound. She was placed in a cage and stayed in it for one year and was then adopted by a woman who was in her eighties. She lived in a 600 sq ft apartment. Sadly, when this puppy had to eliminate bodily functions the woman set her out the front door to be greeted with an asphalt driveway. There were no walks in the woods. There was no walking anywhere. The only thing this dog knew was how to eat and poop in all the wrong places and this scenario stayed this way for four years until the women passed away. And as for this adorable little creature it was back to the pound. Almost immediately word got out regarding 'Sweet Sadness' and, as I stated earlier, she was rescued and was about to win life's lottery. God always has a plan.
It took me five minutes to tell the rescuer I'd take her. Little did I know what was about to occur. It was me, not her, who would learn more about life, and love and responsibility. I made a commitment to give it my all to make sure this special lady had a chance to enjoy life. It wasn't going to be easy as I found out but I was going to give it my all.
First things first. The lil' girl needed a name. The one given her was Cookie. I hated that name; made her sound like a floozie. When I have a pet, a new best friend, I give them real names aka people names. My next-door neighbor thought Cutter would be good. I thought about that for at least 30 seconds and said, "I don't think so." I wanted her to have a name she could be proud of, one that made her special when she strutted down the street. So, I took the first letter of her original moniker and added another from the name suggested by my neighbor which, if you didn't graduate grade school, becomes CC. That didn't work for me either, so I thought, "It needs to be feminine and what's more feminine than a French Brigette Bardot type name, so I stretched it out to CeeCee and, viola, a star was born.
I'm going to cut this post shorter and get to the good stuff. It took much longer to bring out the trust in CeeCee to become semi-normal than I anticipated. First, I early on learned she was deathly afraid of other dogs which is completely understandable since she was pulled from her litter early on, she never had a chance to bond. CeeCee was fearful of men especially large ones. As for women, she loved each and every one she met. I don't know why this is about men and women but I'm the same way especially when it comes to the female type. I kid you not when I say the first time she stepped foot on grass she, well, she was fearful but after a month or so she fell in love with pine trees. No, I don't mean she watered them, but what she did do was sniff the needles---for half hour if I'd let her.
It took CeeCee 18 months to get the courage to jump up onto the couch and sit on my lap. When we went for rides in my car she'd sit on the passenger seat and look out the window. It's been three years since she came into our lives. Last summer we drove 17 hours from Minnesota to Ohio. She made my lap her bed for the entire trip.
I'm skipping over many details; how we hired a trainer, the time we spent together getting to know our habits, likes and dislikes but things seem to be working out. I'm a softie when it comes to making her happy. I have three different lounging beds for her. I have a special car seat which, as you already know she doesn't use because my lap is her home. This is what I tell people about her being spoiled. I spend more money on her than I did my three children combined. If she wanted to drive my car I'd let her.
And now it's time to see the transformation. It took a year for this pose to happen but it's my favorite photo. She looks happy and that makes me happy.
