From the year 1747, we have the following: "As there are no men who complain more of the frauds of business than highwaymen, gamesters, and other thieves of this kind, so there are none who so bitterly exclaim against the frauds of gamesters, etc., as usuers, brokers, and other thieves of this kind; whether it be that the one way of cheating is a discountenance or reflection upon the other, or that money, which is the common mistress of all cheats, makes them regard each other in the light of rivals;..."
I found this while stuffing and shuffling, cramming and cajoling, bulling and butting my way through all 714 pages of Henry Fielding's "The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling" - on page 666 no less.
In light of today's economic situation, Hank would agree - the more things change, the more they stay the same.

A college professor once told me to always save my work. She was speaking to visual art which I was dabbling in at the time. She might not have said that had she seen all my dabblings, but though I no longer dabble, I have tried to heed her words with my writing. So I was rummaging around in my notebook the other day and found an exercise from a long-ago writing program. I don't even remember what the prompt was. After I played with the words some, I came up with the following. I hope it's proof there is a little good in everything.

In a Tent

The lantern hangs and sputters from the center-pole.
Water drips from its cover.
The whole roof leaks.

Curled around puddles,
we cuddle and coo.
She is a shadow beneath the blanket.

Why are we here,
camping in a hurricane?
What are we trying to prove
by refusing to give up on a weekend
doomed from the start?

Yet, here we are
wet, miserable
and falling in love.

My wife and I were watching some TV last Tuesday when she said, "Oh, today is Veteran's Day. I forgot about that. Thanks, Dick."
I said, "You're welcome."
That was pretty much our Veteran's Day celebration. I'm not much for flags, parades, and those little hats with all the 'doo-dahs" on them. But, it's nice when friends and family acknowledge the fact that I wore this country's uniform for twenty years. So I have thought for several days about what would make me feel really "thanked," and I've come up with a short list: Let's stop creating so many "war veterans." If we do have to create war veterans, let's make sure it's not for a lie. Let's not spend young lives for foreign resources or because we are too lazy or too unintelligent to negotiate for what we want. Let's make sure our service people don't die for graft, greed or politics.
There once was a serviceman's Code of Conduct, the first article of which went something like this: I am a United States serviceman. I serve in the forces which guard my country and its way of life. I am prepared to give my life in its defence.
The key word here is "defence." Let's make sure the next one is for defence.

There's an old story about a woman who went walking one cold morning and found a snake by the side of the road. The snake was near death, but managed a plea to the woman for help. The woman took pity on the snake, picked it up and carried it home. Once home, she put the snake by the fire and fed it warm milk. The snake recovered to the point that when the woman came to check on it, it bit her. In shock, the woman cried, "Why did you do that? I saved your life and now I'm going to die." The snake replied,"Hey, I'm a snake. It's what I do." Sen. Joe Lieberman, former Democratic Vice Presidential candidate, became an Independent when the Connecticut democrats turned him out because of his pro Iraq War stance, campaigned for the Republican ticket and was John McCain's preference for running mate, is, once again, seeking a spot beside the Democratic Party fire. Hey, it's what they do.

Well - it happened. Part of me hoped it would; part of me thought it wouldn't and part of me thinks that something will, in the end, prevent it. But, for right now, it has happened. The people of the United States of America have an African-American as president-elect. It took thirty years of lawlessness, Godlessness, and greed to push us over the edge and maybe it was worth it. (I might say here that while the nation celebrates the answer, my home state of North Carolina still mulls over the question.)
And if I may be allowed to intrude on the headiness of the moment, I would like to pose another question. At least as much as we see Barack Obama as black, why don't we see him as white? With one white parent and one black parent, would he not be as much one as the other? The fact is, we don't even consider him to be white. White is not a part of the dialogue. This is not just white America talking, this is the world.
As a son of the south who grew up in the forties and fifties, and a struggling racist myself, I cannot help but think that this is a root of a systemic racial bias grown so deep as to tap into our very DNA. It conjures up images of apartheid South Africa where there was white and then there was everyone else, black, Indian, Asian, whatever. It says that while there maybe inclusion in our daily lives, there is segregation in our souls.
While I do not wish to be someone who brings up problems with out offering possible solutions, I am at a loss to see one here. Except to say that today might be a good first step in the right direction. So, don't mind me. Sing. Dance. Celebrate. Congratulations citizens, you done good.