James Hauenstein's Blog, page 32

Change Is Inevitable

Google has decided that it was time to change howBlogspotworks.I can tell you,it is not for the better.Changing something because you can is not always a good idea.I complained vehemently to them,but to no avail.Of course I will be able to get used to the newand improvedBlogspotbut I am getting to that age where change is hard.WHAT?Wait a minute.I'm the one who used to say every morning before work;Change is inevitable.Change is exciting.Change is good.Look forward to Changeand embrace it.Then you will never be left behind in life. Never mind about all that complaining.It is time for aChange! This is,Embracing All The Changes In My LifeJim Hauenstein And “Be the change that you wish to see in the world.”
- Mahatma Gandhi - That is my story and I am sticking to it!
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This Is For All You Haters Out There Who Love The Orange Face Bigot

For all you haters out there who love to hate anyone who mentions the nameDonald Trump in a derogatory way.Bite me.The statements I am going to make are just an observation on how he is running hisPresidency.Donald Agent Orange Trumpis a businessman.More precisely,he is a salesman.He is running our nation as if he purchased a companyand now he needs to find ways to make a profit from it.First order of business is to implement aHiring Freeze.In this case,Stop Immigration.Second order of business is toFireanyone who doesn't agree with you.James Comey,K.T. Mcfarland,Micheal Flynn,and there are at least
180more people since he took office,but you get the idea.Third order of business is toCut Pensions.As in cuttingMedi-Care andHealth-Care Benefits.And a lot of old folks voted for him too!But he is a back-stabber who doesn't care about the people of theUnited States.Check his statements onCovid-19back inFebruary.
Finally,to make as much money as he can for himselfand his rich buddies,you need to cut theWork Force.As inYou & I.As in finding a way to get rid of theMiddle Class.This is,It Is my OpinionAnd I Am Allowed To Have One Even Under This Prejudiced PronePresident,Jim Hauenstein,
And,
“Before mass leaders seize the power to fit reality to their lies, their propaganda is marked by its extreme contempt for facts as such, for in their opinion fact depends entirely on the power of man who can fabricate it.”
- Hannah Arendt, -
That is my story and I am sticking to it!
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Fire Drill Friday

If you have followed me over the years you will have read that I believe in giving to charitiesand helping out whenever I can.I have ask people to donate to causes that I have given money onGoFundMe.I have talked about how I give clothingand food each month to theMission San Antonio De Pala.I helped my 2nd oldest daughter make 50 meals to hand out onThanksgivingto the homeless.Yes,I even give my spare change to people holding up signs on street corners.What I am trying to say is,I just don't ask people to help the unfortunate,I try to do my part where I can.So I would like to tell you about a new organization I just joined.It is calledFire Drill Fridays.They are associated withGreenpeace USA.I believe we need to do something now about climate change.For our children,and their children,and their children.
This is,I Know People Will Say It Is Just Another Hollywood Stunt For AttentionBut Take A Look First Before You DecideJim Hauenstein
And
"We are all one race. The only difference is the color of our skin, and that comes from how close your ancestors lived to the Equator or at high altitudes like Tibetans. There have always been tribes, but what we have to appreciate now is that we live in a global community. And tribal loyalties…they’re not relevant to our future."
- Bill Nye -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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Art

Street ArtThis is,I Always BelievedThat What Some People Call GraffitiIs Truly ArtJim Hauenstein
And

“I laugh at the way some people think graffiti is all selfish tagging and vandalism. Thoughtful street art is like good fiction – it speaks out on behalf of everyone, for us all to see.”
- Carla H. Krueger -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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I Have A New Musical Instrument

Thank you for the response I have received for my story;Gentleman Jim And Niagara Falls.I am glad so many people liked it.Why not yell your friendsand family about it?Thank you.*****I will be writing as often as I can in the coming weeks but it might be sporadic at times.I have a project I am going to do with my youngest daughter.My second oldest daughter bought me a new musical instrument that I have been wanting for years.It is called aHurdy Gurdy!  Normally this instrument can cost up to $15,000!But mine is a kit that you put togetherand it actually plays.The reason why I need my daughter to help me with this project is because I don't have the patience to take my timeand do it properly.So once it is complete I will put up a new photo to show how well my daughter did.I will also being taking the time to learn how to play.This is,Hoping I Get This Good At Playing TheHurdy GurdyJim Hauenstein,
And,
“Those in power write the history, while those who suffer write the songs.”
- Frank Harte -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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Gentleman Jim And Niagara Falls - The Whole Story

This the fictional story of Mary Allison Lynskey coming of age during The Great Depression. Specifically, in the year 1934. It is written in her words for Look Magazine when she is a grown women in 1971 about her father who won The Great $15,000.00 Barrel Roll over Niagara Falls. A popular publication at the time. It is a story of ingenuity, family, love, and what it could mean emotionally when a young person loses a parent. It is broken into eight parts because of its length. I hope you enjoy
Gentleman Jim And Niagara Falls
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
The Final Part
 This is,Saying If You Like This Original StoryLook Under The HeadingShort Stories & Flash FictionTo Find More Entertaining ReadingJim Hauenstein
And

“The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.”
- Dr. Seuss -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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Gentleman Jim And Niagara Falls - The Final Chapter

     Just before I reached the Prospect Point observation area, a roar and a universal cheer waved over me from the thousands of onlookers watching as my Pa became a hero. A hero for just for just one day for them, but my hero for a lifetime.
     People were clapping and everyone had big smiles on their faces. I could hear the onlookers talking about how daring and my Pa was. How his barrel roll will go down in history as one of the best of all time. Of course the event was held for only that one year of 1934, but he was it's hero.
     I stopped running. Bent over and put my hands on my knees to take a few deep breaths. I lifted up one leg at a time so my knees would almost touch my chest to ease the cramping. The crowd was still clapping, cheering, and smiling.
     It took me awhile but I finally let go and started crying. I was so happy. My father had rode his barrel over Niagara Falls and lived. I was so proud.
    After my nerves calmed down enough so I could relax and I could gather my wits about me, I made my way to the lower level. Some folks were already coming up the stairs as I was going down. I guess they weren't interested in hearing what my Pa had to say about his ride after he was brought back to shore.
     The promoters had set up a podium with a microphone that was hooked up to loud speakers and the event was also being broadcast on coast to coast live radio. I found Jim waiting near the pier where the rescue clipper would dock. He said he never made it down in time to hop aboard the ship. He told me he missed the barrel going over the falls but did see it come out of the mist, floating on top of the water. Just as Pa had predicted.
     While the rescue boat was on its way to retrieve the barrel, Pa had somehow leveled it upright and popped the top hatch, waving vigorously to the crowd. "Your dad is putting on quite a show," Jim said.
     I could see he was playing to the crowd by having the rescue ship tow him into shore slowly while still in the barrel. He waved to the cheering crowd, then cup both hands over his head, shaking them back and forth, then waving again. A routine he kept up until he was almost alongside the pier.
     Jim and I made our way over to the pier and with a flash of his Merchant Marine credentials we were able to walk down to greet my Pa. Once passed the guards, Jim gabbed my hand without looking at me, as if it was the most natural thing to do in the world. At first I wanted to pull away from him thinking how forward he was being, but his warm hand melted away my inhibitions and I came in closer to him, grabbing his upper arm with my free hand. We walked the rest of the way like that and I've been holding him the same way ever since.
     The boat did a quick u-turn before it could hit the pier. As it did, the crew released the tow lines, pulling long enough to give Pa's barrel enough momentum to float in.
     An over zealous dock worker yelled to my Pa, telling him to watch out as he tossed a grappling hook with a rope attached so he could pull him in.
     My Pa tried to wave him off, yelling frantically, "Stop! Don't!"
     It was too late. The young man must have been good at his job because he threw that hook perfectly into the barrel without hitting my father and yanked as hard as he could so the hook would grab hold of something inside.
     It did, It hooked onto one of the bladders Pa had installed inside the barrel to hold his secret gas. These bladders were his secret ballast which he predicted would keep him afloat better that the buoyancy of the barrel itself. The secret gas leaked when the bladder was punctured, but no one knew because the gas was as clear as air. Nobody had an angle to see inside the barrel, so nobody knew what the grapple had hooked. The young man pulled Pa and his barrel to the pier, secured it, and helped my father out. He then showed him which way to the podium where he could say a few words to his adoring fans.
     Once there, the mayor of Niagara Falls spoke into the mike asking everyone to quiet down so they all could hear what Pa had to say.
     My father looked at the mayor, shook his head yes for a gesture of thank you, and panned the crowd with his eyes for almost a minute. Strangely, he looked worried.
     I know he wasn't afraid to speak in front of a crowd. I've seen him do it on a few occasions before. Something must be wrong.
     That's when the mayor egged him on to say something. So my Pa said, "Hello ladies and gentlemen." The crowd roared with laughter. I too must admit that Jim and I started laughing. It was so unexpected.
     The secret gas my father was using in his barrel was helium. Helium has less density than the air we breath which causes it to rise high into the sky. Making it the perfect gas for balloon lovers everywhere. So Pa figured, water is denser than air and if he filled the bladders in his barrel with helium, his craft would rise to the surface faster, keeping it upright longer.
     When the dock worker latched the barrel with his hook, he punctured a hole in one of the bladders. My father had to breathe in all the escaping helium while he waited to be secured to the pier. When Pa began to speak, his voice was three octaves higher than normal!
     That is the other quality that helium has. It affects your vocal cords so you sound like you're squeaking out your words when you speak instead of the normal pitch your voice has. So those four squeaked words were broadcast live, coast to coast. And they were the only four he got to say. It was just too funny to let him speak anymore.
     The first words words heard around the country from my Pa's mouth were a higher pitch than the cartoon character Betty Boop. He never could live that down. All around Little Pigsty, North Carolina, he was known from then on as Squeaky Clean Lynskey.
     Well, this article is over the word count that Look Magazine gave me as their preferred length. So to summarize, Pa was the last one that year of 1934 to go over Niagara Falls and survive. Two more brave souls died that year trying to duplicate Pa's feat. After a ceremonial diner and presentation in late January of 1935, the promoters announced the event was canceled.
     At the dinner Pa received his prize money and a plaque showing the Niagara Falls. Jim proposed to me that evening and I said yes.
     And as they say, the rest is history.
This is,Channeling Through Me,Murray,So She Could Tell Her StoryJim Hauenstein
And,
“Hope is a helium balloon.”
- Sharon Weil -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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Gentleman Jim And Niagara Falls - Part Seven

     I've heard there have been studies done on why people like to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel.  A scientist, whom I can't remember the name of, said that the atmosphere around the falls is charged with a high amount of negative ions which purifies the air and gives a sense of euphoria to anyone nearby.
     I can't tell you if any of that is true or not. But the day my Pa was taking his ride, there was a huge galvanizing excitability flowing throughout the crowd. People were there to watch another soul risk his or her life and it was electric.
     I thought it was kind of morbid.
     It's the same kind of curiosity that has plagued mankind ever since we were able to comprehend the finality of death. We are fascinated by it. I was hoping the prevailing attitude amongst the crowd was not the attitude of years gone by. Where spectators came to watch someone die.
     Back then, I was hoping the crowds came because they wanted to see death get cheated. They wanted a spectacular show of course, with the barrels crashing into rocks and bobbing up and down violently in the rapids. Maybe, just for a few moments, someone's barrel could stay under water a bit longer than was deemed survivable. And just when it looks like the worst scenario had just occurred, that's when the rider gets out of his barrel and walks away scot-free.
     That's what I wanted to see back in 1934. Not the actual death of a person, but for that person to cheat death at least this one time.
     The contest was a week-long event and when the day finally came for Pa to go down the Niagara River, he was listed as the tenth participant in The Great $15,000.00 Barrel Roll over Niagara Falls of 1934.
     Three people had already died, during their attempts, before Pa was even scheduled. One woman aborted her turn as soon as her barrel was pushed away from shore. Two others got out right away and were lucky enough to swim to Goat Island. Obviously exhausted from swimming so vigorously against the strong currents. But their narrow escape didn't matter to the crowd as they raucously booed them in unison.
     The most tragic was this fellow whose barrel must have hit the bottom of the basin at the end of the falls. Because, after it went under, it never came up again. The sponsors were hoping it was some kind of elaborate hoax so they refused to count him as one of the dead. They felt the prankster would show up eventually to get his name in the local newspaper. He never did.
     It wasn't until the fourth fatality did the promoters start to make a profit. As one roller died, a larger more lustful mass of death watchers filled the stands. So, it turned out I was terribly wrong about the kind of crowds which would come out to watch. Today I would compare them to the morbid families of the old wild west who would set up a picnic lunch in front of the gallows and watch as the hangman earned his money.
     It seemed all in attendance, from reporters, dignitaries, celebrities, to the average Joe waited with bated breath for a catastrophe, which would surely befall the next soul who put his or her life on the line for the prize money.
     The joy I say in people's eyes that day, there to watch someone die, it was horrible. I hated every last one of them.
     So by the time Pa was flowing down the river in a barrel the crowds were soaring off the charts.
     When it came time for my Pa to launch his barrel offshore, we had all gathered around. He hugged each member of his family, shook Jim's hand, then got inside and closed the lid. My father's last words to us before closing the lid were, "I don't want to see any of you at the finish line except for Jim. I want you all to remember me the way I was in life, not in death."
     We all held hands together and said a prayer together out loud. Then Jim, Ma, my brother John, and I all put our hands on the barrel and pushed. Pushing as hard as we could.
     Three of us stood along the watching as the barrel picked up speed. Floating away faster and faster while each second slowly passed. We watched until we lost sight of it.
     That's when we heard the roar of the crowd. They cheered and clamped, hooted and hollered, they acted as one.
Egging the barrel closer and closer to the edge of the falls.
     My family and I just stood there, holding onto one another. Listening to the sounds of the crowds to judge where Pa was on the river.
     We were scared. But nothing compared to the sheer terror I felt when the throngs of people became eerily silent. We all knew Pa was close to the edge.
     There was nothing but silence for a good 30 or more seconds when three or four ladies in attendance started belting out screams of terror. I let go of Ma and John, immediately running to the closet observation point. The people standing there were all pushing and shoving each other back and forth, trying to get a glimpse down to the basin of the falls and see if the barrel survived, let alone my father.
     I shoved, squeezed, and clawed my way through to the rail which held back the crowds from falling over the rocky cliffs. I stared down into the basin and saw nothing. The water vapor was so thick that morning that no one could see a thing. I had to run over to Prospect Point so I could get down to the lower level where the rescue boat would be bringing back my Pa and his barrel if either survived.
     Earlier, after we had pushed Pa's barrel away from shore, Jim immediately headed towards Prospect Point. He had made arrangements to join the Captain of the small cutter used to rescue foolhardy individuals crazy enough to go over the falls. And at that moment, running as fast as I could and afraid as a little lost girl in the woods, I did think Pa was one of those damn fools.
     I was thinking, how could he put his life on the line like that? Ma, Johnny, and I were going to be left alone. We had no direction as a family without him. I never thought about it before but our daily lives evolved around his. If he was dead, where would I turn to for strength, security, and hope for my future? How would I go through life without his guidance?
     Of course, all those questions were answered months later. On the day I said yes to Gentleman Jim's proposal of marriage. But on that morning, as I ran as fast as I could, with my chest pounding and my legs cramping, that thought never occurred to me. There was only this vision of Pa, lying on the ground, as a soaked dead corpse.
     I couldn't help thinking, why would Pa do this to me? I was blaming him for the pain I felt inside. I was selfishly thinking of how his death would affect me. I was frightened about how my world would change. I wanted that day to go away and everything put back to the way it was. Before I ever knew about the Niagara Falls.
This is,Wondering How This Is Going To EndJim Hauenstein,
And,
“For even the most dehumanized modern fantasies depend on some older and simpler figure; the adventures may be mad, but the adventurer must be sane.”
- G.K. Chesterton -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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Gentleman Jim And Niagara Falls - Part Six

    Jim drove us to his home in the outskirts of the city. There were two rooms laid out for us to use, with one bed in each. We split the rooms between girls and boys.
    To this day I do not know how he could have planned it that well or how Jim anticipated the arrangements, but there were two dozen daylilies in vases in the room Ma and I shared. Jim said it was his little secret to keep, but it is easy to figure out that Pa had something to do with it.
     Those flowers were as pretty as a rainbow. He was persistent enough to find different blooming lilies in the colors of red, yellow, pink, purple, and melon. The room smelled gorgeous, it was clean, and all the linen smelled fresh. From the very start I felt right at home.
     His house was small. A two story, three bedroom home. I figured at the time, the size of the house was due on account of everyone living so close together in the city. Homes were built on small plots of land and sectioned off in blocks. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't expand your property line because every inch was laid out ahead of time. No space left on either side of your property. It wasn't anything like the rural area I came from. This was all new to me.
    Then, when I heard how much Jim had paid for his piece of property, I thought he was crazy. It cost more than our small farm in North Carolina. And we had at least ten times as much land as he had.
    What he did have, considered at the time, as all the modern conveniences. He had electricity coming into the house for lighting and running a refrigerator. He had his milk delivered in the morning, twice a week, to his front porch no less. The privy? It was actually inside the home. Running water was pumped in from the outside on pipes to the wash basin and the ceramic bowl of the toilet.
     I was surprised, being so young, at how amazing technology could be. But I also thought how extravagant it all was. My family and I were happy enough without it. We didn't need modern conveniences to enjoy life. We always had each other.
     I can laugh at how that sounds now in 1971, but coming from Little Pigsty, North Carolina in 1934, we were still priming a hand pump for water and digging holes for outhouses down hill and down wind.
     That evening Mama insisted on cooking a meal for everyone. So she whipped up some fried chicken and baked potatoes, with me helping her on the clean up.
     Afterwards, Pa and our host sat down alone at the kitchen table. They wanted to study a map Jim had purchased ahead of time of the Niagara River leading up to and after the falls.
     The rules stated that you could not add rudders or paddles to direct your barrel down the river. So Pa and Jim agreed that it would be a good idea to know which way the currents would flow. In that way, you would have at least a general idea which side of the falls you would be going over.
     Of course, Pa would be launching from the United States side of the river. The rules stated that the starting point must be at least 900 yards up river from the edge of the falls, on our side of the border.
     The key, again both men agreed on this, would be to get a really good push from shore at the very start of Papa's ride down the river. If he didn't, there was the possibility of his barrel riding along the bank. Which could lead to his craft running up on the embankment and being beached on land. Then Pa would have been disqualified, since you can only be pushed out into the river the one time.
     There was also the chance while riding along the bank of the underbelly of the barrel getting scraped by rocks underwater. Maybe puncturing a whole. Then Pa would have had to abandon ship. That would end his one and only chance at success. Or, if dumb luck played a part in Pa's quest for the prize money, his barrel might get intertwined by the occasional branches from trees that hug over the river's edge.
     If that wasn't enough for them to worry about, then there are the different size islands in the river which affect the currents by squeezing the rushing water tighter together. Effectively creating formidable rapids in those areas that a trained rafter might have a hard time passing through unscathed. And that's with the help of a rudder and oars at his disposal. My Pa had neither.
     Once you are in the rapids, there is little you can do to help your situation. The current will bounce you around inside your barrel like fresh butter on a hot griddle.
     The closer you are to an island, the rapids act more aggressive. It's that simple. If you can get to the middle of the river, you have a better chance of not getting hurt while you bounce around inside your barrel. The water flows faster there, but steadier than closer to the islands. Also, the preferred way of going over Niagara's edge is on the left side of the falls. There the basin is as deep as the falls is high. That way there are no worries of going deep underwater and hitting the bottom and cracking your barrel open like an egg.
     Finally, there was the contest's rules. One stipulation stated; At the time of a Contestant's turn to barrel roll one Niagara Falls, every effort must be made to go around the left side of Goat Island. If by chance there is a tie at the end of the year and one Barrel Roller transverses the falls on the left side Goat Island and the other Roller the right, the Prize Money will be automatically awarded to the Roller who around Goat Island on its left.
     The promoters wanted to make sure the V.I.P.s got a good showing. They had set up a grandstand to seat the dignitaries so they would have the best view of the river, the falls, and anyone barrel rolling. Since the left side of the island has a wider edge to go over than the right, the organizers felt most rollers would go over on that side anyways.
     I had no idea of all the things that went into planning his roll until it came time for my Pa to take his turn. Then I realized what was involved and what could have happened to him. I became really frightened for the first time and began to cry.
     This is,Saying I Couldn't Write For The Last Couple Of Days Because Sometimes Life HappensJim Hauenstein
And,
“Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans.”
- Allen Saunders -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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Gentleman Jim And Niagara Falls - Part Five

“Well my dear. We have a friend living in Niagara Falls and he will pick up our crate, store it for us until needed, and put us up in his home for the three or four days we'll need there.”My ears perked up when he said this.Ma asked, “Have I met this new friend of ours and is he truly such a gentleman that he would let himself be so inconvenienced by us invading his home?”“Pa?” I asked after Mama had said the word gentleman.“Oh, I don't think he'll mind at all.” He said smiling. “As long as Murray is with us. Gentleman Jim won't mind at all. He has been corresponding with me through letters since we were up here last Spring.”“What?” I screamed, butting in. “You've been writing to him and he has been writing back?”I paused here confused while Mama and Papa sat staring at me. Waiting for another outburst.Instead, I quietly asked Pa, “Didn't Jim ever ask about me or want to write to me?”He could see the hurt inside of me. Saying sympathetically, “Oh, my dear. I wanted to see if you cared about him as much as he seems to care about you. I didn't know if you were going to forget about him once we left Niagara the last time. But you've been moping around for almost five months now. By your reaction today and the lack of enthusiasm you've been showing doing your chores, I'm pretty sure you do have feelings for him.”Papa then walked over and hugged me real hard. “You see Murray. It was Gentleman Jim's idea to write to me every week so he could prove to me his honorable intentions towards you. I'm going to spoil his big surprise right now, but I feel you deserve to understand why.”I was nervous as Heck. Excuse my French. What was my Pa going to tell me.“You see dear. Gentleman Jim asked for your hand in marriage when we were talking alone that last night in Niagara when we were there in the Spring. I wasn't sure if someone could fall in love after only one day, so I told him we would be back in the early fall and if he could prove to me his intentions, I would let him ask you.”Pa paused, for only a second, saying emphatically, “But the decision is yours alone. It will be up to you to decide if you want to marry him or not. I will not influence you one way or another.”“He said he would abide by my wishes of waiting until the fall came but would write to me every week to convince me on how sincere he truly was.”I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be mad at Pa for not telling me sooner or ecstatic that I was going to see Jim again.And he cared about me.In the end, I decided being ecstatic was much more fun than being angry.I'm an old fashioned kind of gal, so talking about my abbreviated courtship with Jim is still a private matter between us, in my eyes. I will say though, and you have probably figured it out for yourself, my last name changed from Lynskeys to King in a matter of six months once we got back together. We've been happily married for 37 years now. All of my extended family still call him Gentleman Jim to this very day because that is the kind of person he really is.Upon our arrival, at the train station in the city of Niagara Falls, Gentleman Jim was waiting for us on the platform. It looked to me as though he had his best Sunday suit on to greet us. He was going all out to impress us.We got off the train and gathered around him. He smiled at me. I wanted to say something right then and there but Pa interjected before I could say a word. He said the first issue to be settled was to get the introductions out of the way between Gentleman Jim, my Ma, and my little brother. After that, I could have a word with Jim alone, if I like.Gentleman Jim shook Pa's hand first. Then he was introduced to my Mother and he kissed the back of her hand. The show off.Pa then gave the introductions between Jim and my little brother. With Jim squeezing John's hand hard. To his credit, my brother never backed down on the hand shake and didn't cry out.Finally, he came over to greet me. “Before you say a word Miss Lynskey,” Jim smartly says before I can let out a little steam. Rage had been building up inside of me ever since I saw him standing on the platform, wondering why he never wrote to me. “You must understand, your Father was right to question my intentions. How could he be sure that anyone could fall in love with someone after being with that person for only one day?” Jim then grabs my hands with his, looks me in eyes and says, “But I instantly fell in love with you. With your defiant determination you showed towards those hoodlums, your self confidence when speaking, how you didn't panic in a crisis situation, and finally, you're beautiful too.”What could I say after that? My defenses were shattered. I was infatuated with his eyes, and he knew what to say and when to say it at the right time. So I closed in on him, rested my head on his chest, and I hugged him for all I was worth.I looked over at Ma and she was staring at the two of us smiling. I knew then that Ma was pleased with him too. This is,Getting ExcitingJim Hauenstein
And,
“For the record, I would like to point out that it is NOT being obsessive to memorize a boy's schedule so that you can accidentally bump into him. It is called being efficient.”- Jess Rothenberg -
That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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