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About Me

****PRIVACY NOTICE: Warning--any person and/or institution and/or Agent and/or Agency of any governmental structure including but not limited to the United States Federal Government also using or monitoring/using this website or any of its associated websites, you do NOT have my permission to utilize any of my profile information nor any of the content contained herein including, but not limited to my photos, and/ or the comments made about my photo's or any other "picture" art posted on my profile. You are hereby notified that you are strictly prohibited from disclosing, copying, distributing, disseminating, or taking any other action against me with regard to this profile and the contents herein. The foregoing prohibitions also apply to your employee(s), agent(s), student(s) or any personnel under your direction or control. The contents of this profile are private and legally privileged and confidential information, and the violation of my personal privacy is punishable by law.

private legally privileged confidential information violation personal privacy punishable law


I graduated from the University of Minnesota in 1973 with a double major of English and Philosophy, with a Minor in Humanities. What can I say, in college I loved to read, think and theorize. When I graduated, I was able to get a job with Control Data as a Purchasing Agent (electonic parts). (They just wanted someone with a college degree, but it did so happen I was very good in Math.) I worked with them for 3 years, until there was a lay off due to economic conditions.
I worked the next summer in northern Minnesota as a carpenter building houses. As winter approached, I got another job in Purchasing (buying mechanical parts) for a couple years. Then I learned that there was a lot more money to be made on the other side of the fence (selling components), so I became an inside salesman for Arrow Electronics.
After working there a few years, my salary plus commision was higher than my manager's pay, so they wanted to slash my income. That is when I told them where to go.
Next I went into buying houses and remodelling them. In 1985, my life changed. I was in a pretty bad car accident which I have exbounded on about my injuries in a blog. While I was recuperating, I got married. Everything was great for awhile, but then we wanted different things out of life. So we got divorced in 1988.
I have worked as a Carpenter on South Padre Island off and on since 1982. The work has tapered off a bit, so now I do more "Handyman" projects. since the work is intermittant, I have been able to indulge myself with this creative forum having fun with my SH friends.

prayers

I'd like to meet

Mark Twain and Samuel Clemens, Robert Heinlein, Stevie Nicks, John Keats, Walt Whitman, Dante, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Goethe, Thoreau, Diogenes

Activities

Upon occasion, I have been known to write poetry too... LOL
I try to read "Desiderata" daily...
http://www.ezau.com/soul/desi...

Adidas inspired me to post Desiderata in full here
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and agressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself to others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the the world is full of trickery. But let not this blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be, and whatever your labours and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all it's sham drudgery and broken dreams; it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Bozette shared this with me...

A Reason, a Season, or a Lifetime

People come into your life for a reason, a season, or
a lifetime. When you figure out which one it is, you
will know what to do for each person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON . . . It is
usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have
come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you
with guidance and support, to aid you physically,
emotionally, or spiritually. They may seem like a
godsend, and they are! They are there for the reason
you need them to be.

Then, without any wrong doing on your part, or at an
inconvenient time, this person will say or do something
to bring the relationship to an end.

Sometimes they die.
Sometimes they walk away.
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.

What we must realize is that our need has been met, our
desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you
sent up has been answered. And now it is time to move on.

When people come into your life for a SEASON . . .
Because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn.
They bring you an experience of peace, or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount
of joy. Believe it! It is real! But, only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons; things
you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional
foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the
person, and put what you have learned to use in all
other relationships and areas of your life. It is said
that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

Author Unknown

Interests

Fishing, Swimming, Camping on the Beach
Still a big reader...Dean Koontz is my fav. writer
Keats and Whitman fav Poets

Milky

Favorite Music

Still love Rock 'n Roll
but that also includes some softer stuff like Moody Blues, Poco, Logins and Messina, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, a bunch more from that time frame.....
http://www.sodahead.com/enter...

Link straight to the tunes.... http://www.lyricstube.net/video

Favorite TV Shows

I like Sci-Fi...
Eureka
SuperNatural
WareHouse 13
Being Human

Favorite Movies

Casa Blanca, Field of Dreams, The Outlaw Josey Wales

Favorite Books

Most of Kootz books, especially since 1995... he seemed to write more believable things...LOL
These three books are on my must read list:..

Richard Laymon's... "Body Rides" is awesome!!

Ray Bradbury.. all of his works... RIP 6-6-2012
R. Heinlein's... "Stranger in a Strange Land"
Hesse's... "Siddhartha"

Favorite Quotes

"A thing of Beauty is a Joy forever." Keats
"Reaching the destination is not as important as the Journey."
"A Friend bears a Friend's Infirmities."
"Here's Looking at You, Kid~"


Found this great quote from Henry David Thoreau...
happy leap day

Favorite Heroes

Mark Twain, Thomas Jefferson, Lou Gehrig, Audie Murphy, Leonardo Da Vinci, Diogenes

lou gehrig audie murphy

thomas jefferson lou gehrig audie murphy leonardo da vinci diogenes

comments

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  • Rose † 1 day ago
  • MIZ®  ₱д₸Ɽ¡Ö₸ ₩дⱤⱤ¡ÖⱤ   †
    Lovin' ya Hon~♥

    friendship gifs
  • Rose † 3 days ago
    Rose †
    gif thanks for the add pink roses

    God bless you!
  • Harper Klaire 3 days ago
  • Biki~pwcm/potl~ 4 days ago
  • Carly The Reaper ℰ⋆‿⋆ℰ
    Ahaha. Been there. Done that.
  • Carly The Reaper ℰ⋆‿⋆ℰ
    Thanks for the raves! :)
  • Dan46 5 days ago
    Dan46
    Omygosh, I could almost cut and paste your profile into mine, we have a lot in common.
    I will definitely watch for you.
    talk to you later,
    Dan
  • UGH...LIBS ~ PWCM ~ JLA ~ 2014/09/23 02:01:06
    UGH...LIBS ~ PWCM ~ JLA ~
    Yes, thank you so much, Keeper! It's been GREAT!
    {{{{hugs}}}}
  • MIZ®  ₱д₸Ɽ¡Ö₸ ₩дⱤⱤ¡ÖⱤ   †
    I'm so sorry I missed your birthday! I missed SS's too! I swear one day I will straighten myself back up and not miss important days like this anymore!! :-o ♥♥♥
    happy belated birthday friend gifs
    happy belated birthday friend gifs
    http://123tamilchat.com/image...
    And I really miss you... :(
    I miss you
  • 56lady☆POTL JLA BTO-t- BCRA... 2014/09/20 12:35:50
    56lady☆POTL JLA BTO-t- BCRA-F's
    Have a Great & Blessed Weekend ♥

    saturday blessing

    XO
  • Pearlie Momi♥Patriot Warrior♥ 2014/09/20 05:15:20
    Pearlie Momi♥Patriot Warrior♥
    Hello #1 man...Happy Belated Birthday. Sorry I was off a few days..I hope you had a party...I can't find it...
    Happy belated
  • princess 2014/09/19 08:46:44
  • Marlow ~ Let There Be Light 2014/09/18 13:21:46
    Marlow ~ Let There Be Light
    Happy birthday Keeper. Hey i was just reading your profile and i didn't know you had an English degree. My Master's is in English Lit.

    Belated birthday wishes Keeper!

    bichon birthday
  • deidara.true,art-[SHP]- BTO... 2014/09/17 04:35:41
    deidara.true,art-[SHP]- BTO-t- B
    HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY FRIEND



    I am not a poet, but I will share a poet I enjoy for your birthday




    Vagabond's House
    Don Blanding

    When I have a house . . . as I sometime may . . .
    I'll suit my fancy in every way.
    I'll fill it with things that have caught my eye
    In drifting from Iceland to Molokai.
    It won't be correct or in period style,
    But . . . oh, I've thought for a long, long while
    Of all the corners and all the nooks,
    Of all the bookshelves and all the books,
    The great big table, the deep soft chairs,
    And the Chinese rug at the foot of the stairs
    (It's an old, old rug from far Chow Wan
    That a Chinese princess once walked on).

    My house will stand on the side of a hill
    By a slow, broad river, deep and still,
    With a tall lone pine on guard nearby
    Where the birds can sing and the storm winds cry.
    A flagstone walk, with lazy curves,
    Will lead to the door where a Pan's head serves
    As a knocker there, like a vibrant drum,
    To let me know that a friend has come,
    And the door will squeak as I swing it wide
    To welcome you to the cheer inside.

    For I’ll have good friends who can sit and chat
    Or simply sit, when it comes to that,
    By the fireplace where the fir logs blaze
    And the smoke rolls up in a weaving haze.
    I’ll want a wood box, scarred and rough
    For leaves and bark and odorous stuff,
    Like resinous knots and cones and...























































































































































































































    HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY FRIEND

    chocolate birthday cake

    I am not a poet, but I will share a poet I enjoy for your birthday don blanding vagabond house




    Vagabond's House
    Don Blanding

    When I have a house . . . as I sometime may . . .
    I'll suit my fancy in every way.
    I'll fill it with things that have caught my eye
    In drifting from Iceland to Molokai.
    It won't be correct or in period style,
    But . . . oh, I've thought for a long, long while
    Of all the corners and all the nooks,
    Of all the bookshelves and all the books,
    The great big table, the deep soft chairs,
    And the Chinese rug at the foot of the stairs
    (It's an old, old rug from far Chow Wan
    That a Chinese princess once walked on).

    My house will stand on the side of a hill
    By a slow, broad river, deep and still,
    With a tall lone pine on guard nearby
    Where the birds can sing and the storm winds cry.
    A flagstone walk, with lazy curves,
    Will lead to the door where a Pan's head serves
    As a knocker there, like a vibrant drum,
    To let me know that a friend has come,
    And the door will squeak as I swing it wide
    To welcome you to the cheer inside.

    For I’ll have good friends who can sit and chat
    Or simply sit, when it comes to that,
    By the fireplace where the fir logs blaze
    And the smoke rolls up in a weaving haze.
    I’ll want a wood box, scarred and rough
    For leaves and bark and odorous stuff,
    Like resinous knots and cones and gums,
    To toss on the flames when winter comes.
    And I hope a cricket will stay around,
    For I love it’s creaky lonesome sound.

    There’ll be driftwood powder to burn on logs
    And a shaggy rug for a couple of dogs,
    Boreas, winner of prize and cup,
    And Mickey, a lovable gutter-pup.
    Thoroughbreds, both of them, right from the start,
    One by breeding, the other by heart.
    There are times when only a dog will do
    For a friend . . . when you’re beaten, sick and blue
    And the world’s all wrong, for he won’t care
    If you break and cry, or grouch and swear,
    For he’ll let you know as he licks your hands
    That he’s downright sorry . . . and understands.

    I’ll have on a bench a box inlaid
    With dragon-plaques of milk white jade
    To hold my own particular brand
    Of cigarettes brought from the Pharaohs land,
    With a cloisonne bowl on a lizards skin
    To flick my cigarette ashes in.
    And a squat blue jar for a certain blend
    Of pipe tobacco, I’ll have to send
    To a quaint old chap I chanced to meet
    In his fusty shop on a London street.

    A long low shelf of teak will hold
    My best-loved books in leather and gold,
    While magazines lie on a bowlegged stand,
    In a polyglot mixture close at hand.
    I’ll have on a table a rich brocade
    That I think the pixies must have made,
    For the dull gold thread on blues and grays
    Weaves a pattern of Puck . . . the Magic Maze.
    On the mantlepiece I’ll have a place
    For a little mud god with a painted face
    That was given to me . . . oh, long ago,
    By a Philippine maid in Olangapo.

    Then just in range of a lazy reach . . .
    A bulging bowl of Indian beech
    Will brim with things that are good to munch,
    Hickory nuts to crack and crunch;
    Big fat raisins and sun-dried dates,
    And curious fruits from the Malay Straits;
    Maple sugar and cookies brown
    With good hard cider to wash them down;
    Wine-sap apples, pick of the crop,
    And ears of corn to shell and pop
    With plenty of butter and lots of salt . . .
    If you don’t get filled it’s not my fault.

    And there where the shadows fall I’ve planned
    To have a magnificent concert-grand
    With polished wood and ivory keys,
    For wild discordant rhapsodies,
    For wailing minor Hindu songs,
    For Chinese chants and clanging gongs,
    For flippant jazz, and for lullabies,
    And moody things that I’ll improvise
    To play the long gray dusk away
    And bid goodbye to another day.

    Pictures . . . I think I’ll have but three:
    One, in oil, of a windswept sea
    With the flying scud and the waves whipped white . . .
    (I know the chap who can paint it right)
    In lapis blue and deep jade green . . .
    A great big smashing fine marine
    That’ll make you feel the spray in your face.
    I’ll hang it over my fireplace.

    The second picture . . . a freakish thing . . .
    Is gaudy and bright as a macaw’s wing,
    An impressionist smear called “Sin”,
    A nude on a striped zebra skin
    By a Danish girl I knew in France.
    My respectable friends will look askance
    At the purple eyes and the scarlet hair,
    At the pallid face and the evil stare
    Of the sinister, beautiful vampire face.
    I shouldn’t have it about the place,
    But I like . . . while I loathe . . . the beastly thing,
    And that’s the way that one feels about sin.

    The picture I love the best of all
    Will hang alone on my study wall
    Where the sunset’s glow and the moon’s cold gleam
    Will fall on the face, and make it seem
    That the eyes in the picture are meeting mine,
    That the lips are curved in the fine sweet line
    Of that wistful, tender, provocative smile
    That has stirred my heart for a wondrous while.
    It’s a sketch of the girl who loved too well
    To tie me down to that bit of Hell
    That a drifter knows when he know’s he’s held
    By the soft, strong chains that passions weld.
    It was best for her and for me, I know,
    That she measured my love and bade me go
    For we both have our great illusion yet
    Unsoiled, unspoiled by vain regret.
    I won’t deny that it makes me sad
    To know that I’ve missed what I might have had.
    It’s a clean sweet memory, quite apart,
    And I’ve been faithful . . . in my heart.

    All these things I will have about,
    Not a one could I do without;
    Cedar and sandalwood chips to burn
    In the tarnished bowl of a copper urn;
    A paperweight of meteorite
    That seared and scorched the sky one night,
    A moro kris . . . my paper knife . . .
    Once slit the throat of a Rajah’s wife.
    The beams of my house will be fragrant wood
    That once in a teeming jungle stood
    As a proud tall tree where the leopards couched
    And the parrots screamed and the black men crouched.

    The roof must have a rakish dip
    To shadowy eaves where the rain can drip
    In a damp persistent tuneful way;
    It’s a cheerful sound on a gloomy day.
    And I want a shingle loose somewhere
    To wail like a banshee in despair
    When the wind is high and the storm-gods race
    And I am snug by my fireplace.

    I hope a couple of birds will nest
    Around the house. I’ll do my best
    To make them happy, so every year
    They’ll raise their brood of fledglings here.

    When I have my house I’ll suit myself
    And have what I call my “Condiment Shelf”,
    Filled with all manner of herbs and spice,
    Curry and chutney for meats and rice,
    Pots and bottles of extracts rare . . .
    Onions and garlic will both be there . . .
    And soya and saffron and savoury goo
    And stuff that I’ll buy from an old Hindu;
    Ginger with syrup in quaint stone jars;
    Almonds and figs in tinseled bars;
    Astrakhan caviar, highly prized,
    And citron and orange peel crystallized;
    Anchovy paste and poha jam;
    Basil and chili and marjoram;
    Pickles and cheeses from every land
    And flavours that come from Samarkand;
    And, hung with a string from a handy hook,
    Will be a dog-eared, well-thumbed book
    That is pasted full of recipes
    From France and Spain and the Caribbees;
    Roots and leaves and herbs to use
    For curious soups and odd ragouts.

    I’ll have a cook that I’ll name “Oh Joy”,
    A sleek, fat, yellow-faced China boy
    Who can roast a pig or mix a drink,
    (You can’t improve on a slant-eyed Chink).
    On the gray-stone hearth there’ll be a mat
    For a scrappy, swaggering yellow cat
    With a war-scarred face from a hundred fights
    With neighbours’ cats on moonlight nights.
    A wise old Tom who can hold his own
    And make my dogs let him alone.

    I’ll have a window-seat broad and deep
    Where I can sprawl to read or sleep,
    With windows placed so I can turn
    And watch the sunsets blaze and burn
    Beyond high peaks that scar the sky
    Like bare white wolf-fangs that defy
    The very gods. I’ll have a nook
    For a savage idol that I took
    From a ruined temple in Peru,
    A demon-chaser named Mang-Chu
    To guard my house by night and day
    And keep all evil things away.

    Pewter and bronze and hammered brass;
    Old carved wood and gleaming glass;
    Candles and polychrome candlesticks,
    And peasant lamps with floating wicks;
    Dragons in silk on a Mandarin suit
    In a chest that is filled with vagabond-loot.
    All of the beautiful, useless things
    That a vagabond’s aimless drifting brings.

    Then, when my house is all complete
    I’ll stretch me out on the window seat
    With a favourite book and a cigarette,
    And a long cool drink that Oh Joy will get;
    And I’ll look about at my bachelor-nest
    While the sun goes zooming down the west,
    And the hot gold light will fall on my face
    And make me think of some heathen place
    That I’ve failed to see . . . that I’ve missed some way . . .
    A place that I’d planned to find some day,
    And I’ll feel the lure of it driving me.
    Oh damn! I know what the end will be

    I’ll go. And my house will fall away
    While the mice by night and the moths by day
    Will nibble the covers off all my books,
    And the spiders weave in the shadowed nooks.
    And my dogs . . . I’ll see that they have a home
    While I follow the sun, while I drift and roam
    To the ends of the earth like a chip on the stream,
    Like a straw on the wind, like a vagrant dream;
    And the thought will strike with a swift sharp pain
    That I probably never will build again
    This house that I’ll have in some far day
    Well . . . it’s just a dream house, anyway.
    (more)
  • Charu ∞ijm♥∞ 2014/09/17 04:16:12
  • 56lady☆POTL JLA BTO-t- BCRA... 2014/09/16 22:22:56
    56lady☆POTL JLA BTO-t- BCRA-F's
    Happy Birthday Keeper
    May all your dreams come true !


    Special Happy Birthday Dance Gif

    Special Happy Birthday Gif

    Special Happy Birthday Cake Gif
  • GreatLakes 2014/09/09 21:06:28
  • MIZ®  ₱д₸Ɽ¡Ö₸ ₩дⱤⱤ¡ÖⱤ   †
    ohhhhhh hun... just so many things to do and I'm not such a great time manager, I guess.... :-[
    How are you? Heres hoping you and I can both have just a lazy Sunday together!~;-)
    funny dog lazy gifs
  • **Bessie** 2014/09/05 17:33:04
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info

  • keeper
  • Male
  • Port Isabel, TX, US
  • 2008/05/14 19:08:52
  • 6 hours ago
  • September 16
  • Single
  • Straight
  • Virgo
  • Expressing Myself
  • College Graduate
  • Part-Time
  • Other
  • $0 - $25k
  • No
  • Yes
  • Other
  • No thank you
  • Conservative
  • White/Caucasian
  • Average
  • 5 feet 8 inches