Hagerty Weekly (automobile) News, yesterday forwarded to me by a friend, has a sixtieth anniversary piece listing factors that caused the failure of Ford Motor Company’s Edsel car, introduced September 1957 and lasted only three model years, 1958, 1959, and 1960.  Here before, I’ve remembered Edsel, both Edsel Ford himself, the brilliant only son whom Henry Ford destroyed even directly causing his death; and also the Edsel automobile that Ford Motor Company conceived in his name, produced, and marketed some fifteen years after Edsel’s death under Ford’s leadership of Henry Ford II. The Edsel’s autumn 1957 showroom introduction I remember well.  Linda and I were driving in our green 1948 Dodge sedan from Newport, Rhode Island, where I was an OCSN in the Navy Officer Candidate School, up to Providence to meet and have dinner with elderly relatives, a Weller couple,  he descended, perhaps a son I don’t recall, of my grandfather AD Weller’s brother Regin

Once in the beginning my daily blogpost was several hours later than usual and a close friend worried and contemplated whether to call 911 and meet them at my house. Close friend would have been welcome to email or text, but decided to wait and worry instead. If a day is late or even skipped, skipped may have happened once in my 2010 - 2017 seven years of daily writing and posting, it doesn't signify. Constant temptation is to give it up, stop altogether, but hasn’t as yet quite come to that, so here’s another day. Kristen’s car is a 2013 Volvo XC60, bought in Atlanta for her in February 2013 when she was a college student, to replace her Saturn that was totaled on an Atlanta freeway during rush hour traffic, when her car was rammed from behind and slammed into the car ahead of hers. Volvo was chosen for her by Mr. Safety as the then safest car in the universe, and has been more than satisfactory. The only issue has been that dealer warranty service, and in fact full Volvo att

Lord of all power and might, the author and giver of all good things: Graft in our hearts the love of your Name; increase in us true religion; nourish us with all goodness; and bring forth in us the fruit of good works; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God for ever and ever. Amen. Above is our collect or prayer of the day for the upcoming Sunday, 20170903. It dates from Gelasian (8th century), Gregorian (10th century), and Sarum (11th century) liturgies; but then, we are a people who, though currently priding ourselves being on the progressive cutting edge of social issues, churchly speaking love looking back and using worship from the ages of ages; perhaps not unlike decorating an ultramodern house with copies of art from the Dark Ages.  The collect, a line of it, calls to mind our prayer that, theologically updated, now makes our Prayers of the People for Rite One, revised from: We beseech thee also, so to direct

That there’s no morning blogpost doesn’t mean call 911, life was busy inside the octogenarian corpus. If you scratch it with a pin, there's still a Being under there. Late rising, leisurely black & dark, watch Harvey on TV, walk long enough to quell conscience, home for shower and blueberry pancakes left over from Saturday morning, staff meeting & visit, consultation & lunch with young friend I have watched from age two to the edge of adulthood, home to watch ship pass west of StAndrews Marina, nap from 1:30 to 4:00. Late supper: sandwich of rye bread, mayo, six fried oysters left over from lunch, eight slices prosciutto spread atop, final slice rye bread. Large mug iced coffee with chicory. Watch tug tow two barges through pass into StAndrewsBay to do his dance lining them up for tomorow’s pushing in the channels. At the moment, tug & barges are poised, possibly for the night, off Davis Point from 7H. All Not Quiet on the Northern Front. ACD Festiv

Warm outside, is it really the warmest summer ever, or at least warmest summer on record? Too dark to read temperature and humidity on 7H porch, but warmer than comfortable for staying out with coffee, chocolate, laptop & dancing fingers to watch flashing lights on StAndrewsBay. Sunday School: the library isn’t ready to welcome us back yet, so in Battin Hall again, but I’ll round up two tables, the one we had last Sunday wasn’t enough. What? From the story of Moses and the Bulrushes, Bithiah the daughter of Pharaoh who is hallowed in Jewish lore. And a look at the Confession of Peter from Matthew, Mark, Luke and GThomas.        DThos+

Last evening with beloveds, supper at Hurricane Grill & Wings north Tallahassee on Thomasville Road and super treat of watching Lincoln High School band’s drum line play on the outside stage for a fundraiser. What a show, the guys are magnificent beyond splendid, good, better, best. My supper was wings with a couple of dips, others had fish & chips and other tasty.  TWC finally with something to do but stand in front of an electric fan while someone sprays a water hose on Jim Cantore, Hurricane Harvey tears into Texas coast with category 4 winds, storm surge, driving rain, and possible tornadoes. May people heed warnings, use common sense, and get out of its path, hurricanes are no joke and we can hope it doesn’t loop around and head east as initially forecast. Farther north, University of Illinois bans playing their war chant at Fighting Illini sporting events.  https://www.landof10.com/illinois/illinois-reportedly-retire-war-chant-good . Next to go, Chief Osc

The church is still working us through Paul’s letter to the Romans, a long, solemn and weighty theological tome on which many faithful readers give up long before half, lay it aside soothing self that they’ll come back to it. Too bad, because it’s Paul’s last and most comprehensive extant letter, the best for understanding Paul’s mind as the Holy Spirit has evolved his thinking. And also, as I remember telling my New Testament professor at seminary, it’s chock full of quotations from the Book of Common Prayer. Sunday’s lectionary reading for instance, which Paul lifted directly from Cranmer’s prayer of consecration, “And here we offer and present unto thee, O Lord, our selves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and living sacrifice unto thee.” That was during the conversation after class one morning, in which the professor, for the faculty and administration, invited and encouraged me to consider ordination as a Lutheran pastor. Which was flattering, but which I tho

Every view is different isn’t it. Every view, every cloud, every fingerprint, every dna, every sky, everyone, every Being, every personality, every point of view, every morning, every ending, every beginning.  Bright light right of Redfish Point is TAFB tower. Found self last night in an article about introverts. We are not bashful, not shy, but after a long burst of interior Being and energy in a social setting we are empty, must recharge sitting long in a chair alone staring out across StAndrewsBay at sea and sky and don’t bother me, don’t ask what’s wrong, don’t ask if I’m okay: I’m not, you’re invading my space, intruding in my Being. https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2003/03/caring-for-your-introvert/302696/ There's Davis Point of Memory, and there goes the Navy. Do I wish? Sometimes. Make all preparations for getting underway.  Cast off all lines.  Underway, shift colors.  A Newport destroyer was what I requested, OP gave me

Nothing, retired from the Navy soon forty years, I know nothing , but I do remember two things. If your ship runs aground or is in a collision you are relieved, dismissed, toast, rip off your stripes and close the door on your way out.  The second thing is that unlike water, bad news flows in all directions, uphill, downhill, and spreads out. Just so with the news last night of the firing of Navy three-star Vice Admiral Aucoin, Commander, Seventh Fleet.  And between the three-star and the Navy commanders who skippered USS   Fitzgerald and USS John S. McCain stand two-star Rear Admiral Charles Williams, who is Commander, Task Force 70 and Commander Carrier Strike Group 5; and Navy Captain Jeffrey A. Bennett II, squadron commodore who is Commander Destroyer Squadron 15. Navy’s “loss of confidence” surely will include them, and could go both up to include four-stars and out to include other officers with various responsibilities including maintenance, training, drills, i

Monday morning: visited HNES including first grade class of all girls whose classroom was my own first grade classroom over seventy-five years ago, OMG the love and joy. Monday afternoon: solar eclipse. Tuesday morning: clear and salty with a constellation in the eastern sky: Orion and Sirius over downtown Panama City. Monday evening 9/8C. On constitutional grounds, every American citizen is as qualified as the next to agree or not, approve or not, every decision and action, thought, word and deed of our presidents, who despite their exalted office are neither more nor less human and/or qualified than the rest of us. One does not have to be - -  fit   - - in order to approve or disapprove; even the lunatic fringes qualify. Qualifications don’t count, there’s no qualifying, no poll-taxische qualifying tax, no literacy-testische qualifying test, no drivers-licenseische qualified license. Fitness is not a factor. Nor need one be a television talking head on one politically bia

Solar Eclipse Day, seems to be clouding over as promised, can’t be helped. I stopped praying about the weather in October 1995 after being present at a Pensacola meeting that Bishop Duvall convened with prayer that Hurricane Opal, circling far south of us in the Gulf of Mexico, would go ashore in Mexico. The next day it rolled furiously ashore in my front yard. Knowing it was coming, we had boarded up and fled for Tallahassee, a thirteen hour drive in the traffic jam. No motels, we slept that night in the garage at Tallahassee Medical Center, made calls the next morning, and headed back home. If every story has a gospel, that one’s was don’t pray your troubles off on somebody else. Eclipse Day come what may. Below, scroll down, our gospel for next Sunday, the emblem above gives a revealing hint, keys of the kingdom. I like to play with the Son of Man symbol: Jesus uses it in three ways. One is referring to the cosmic figure in Daniel 7. A second is referring to human being

Saturday evening of a day with a busy but enjoyable morning, priest ordination at StAndrew’s Episcopal Church while gazing out across StAndrewsBay beyond Davis Point to Shell Island. Reception afterward visiting with friend from earliest childhood who remembers and is one person outside family who knows me long enough and well enough to call me Bubba. In human Time eight decades counts. Home, lunch half an avocado, last 30% of breakfast oyster sandwich, glass of merlot. Yes, afternoon nap, I’m entitle'. Mug of African red tea, iced. Watched snippets of several Russian movies online, I've seen some good ones, but holy alphabet smoke the tedium and cliche. Supper on 7H porch with life partner, half egg salad sandwich and ice water, watching action below and on the Bay. Headache hot when we first went out, but by the porch rail a gentle breeze at this level. Who could tell that, reaching out from Courtney Point, there's a place in mid-Bay less than five feet deep Below

Gggg one of my favorites is American Typewriter, but it has no slant, no italics that are often wanted. One of these mornings I’ll return to the search for the perfect combo with a magical lc g. Quiet, still morning. Three boys or young men, so youths, below, two with cast nets throwing, maybe for mullet, third somewhat reluctantly trailing along dragging a red bucket. They’ve attracted a following of gulls circling for whatever might be tossed. Oysters. Lately returned from Walmart with a container of their Willamette oysters. Good. Not perfect to my taste as my lifelong Apalachicola, Gulf Coast or Chesapeake Bay oysters, but half the price, I try to find my right use for them. Yesterday close. Mama used to make an oyster loaf, which she remembered from her childhood, Daddy Walt cycling home from work on his bicycle, this was before 1924 when he bought his first automobile, a blue 1924 Maxwell touring car,  having stopped at a local delicatessen, bought, and heading home wi