Frodo, Keeper of the Ring

Friday, February 12, 2016

Did You Ever Have to Make Up Your Mind
Mood:

cool
Topic: "Snow Tan"(11)

The view through the Shire to the woods below encompasses a beauty difficult to explain. There is no deluge of color, there is rather the irregular shape of branches twisted by steady winds and exposed sunlight peeking from different directions as the Sun sets in mid-afternoon. The warmth is short-lived and it is not until he returns inside that Frodo even realizes that there is a ruddy glistening on his cheeks. He supposes that some would inquire about the tan upon his face, and he wonders how he would respond in as much as a simple sentence.

Looking back to the spot where he stood but a moment ago, the wind appears to have died down and the Sun is brigter. Frodo feels as if he is wasting one of the swiftly decreasing days at his disposal, and that is quite probably a comparative fact.

Tess is napping, and Dandy joins her. Sam is curled with them both, allowing Mr. Beau Neau to arise from the basement kingdom until the UPS driver rings the doorbell. After a few moments, peace returns and Frodo wistfully considers how much he will miss moments such as these someday, far too soon he is sure.

In a few days Frodo and Sam will separate themselves from their closest friends and sail off into the warmth and the sunshine. The pets cannot go, so they get their first exposure to "Camp Kennel." Dandy will not understand, and Tess will pace-and-stare, pace-and-stare, and Frodo will not sleep. Precious days with Sam are the trade-off, but the decision to go was not an easy one. No matter where he is, Frodo will feel the wind on his cheeks and trust that his fellow inhabitants of the Shire will thrill at his return.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 3:54 PM EST

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Wednesday, February 10, 2016

So What Happens Now
Mood:

bright
Topic: "Findin' William"(11)"

200 years of History is like a fart in a windstorm. No one notices. If one were to stand on the grounds of the Battle of Hastings (1066), then there is significance attached. The anniversary of apparent relevance does not become important until one-half of a milennium has taken place, at least that is why a 500 year-old Hobbit sees things the way he does. His search for a Revolutionary War soldier becomes a pretty good story with little apparent interest to the greater good. Follow me therein.

William McKinny arrived in the New World with someone named Thomas. Frodo is not sure if he were a brother, a son, or some other relation. What we do know is that he drove a wagon as a soldier in the Continental Army, whose primary conflict was in opposition to the indigenous peoples who sided with the British. When the War ended, the boys in blue were unable to pay their volunteers as well as the Regulars. They were granted land, based on rank, in the frontier to the West of the Colonies. William McKinny, a private, received 1 square mile, 644 acres, in the territory known as North Carolina. When he died, some years later, the property was sliced and diced between children until it became something similar to the expunged gas cited earlier above.

Sam has a genetic interest in the events that followed over the next two hundred or so years. Some time ago Frodo took on a challenge through an evil Stepmother to trace the descendants of William McKinny. Sam accepted the challenge as Frodo inhaled until his lungs burst. Surprisingly, at least to him, Frodo found that he could trace the ancestry with relative ease, for a couple of hundred years, then he hit a proverbial "rock." Frodo was not alone in his assessment that the trail had reached conclusion with the death of William McKinny, from a land uncertain, whse mortal remains disappeared over time.

That is, until this past week. Frodo found a receipt signed by an official of the US War Department in Shelby, North Carolina, who approved a familial request (in 1938) for the placement of a Headstone on the property formerly owned by his family commemorating the service of the Revolutionary War soldier buried alongside Sandy Creek in the little town of Bakersville, Private William McKinny.

Frodo now knows where the adventure of this immigrant concluded. Now he needs to finish by finding out from whence he came to the wilderness. Funny it is, he thinks, that in these tremulous times, when so many immigrants are challenged by the recently indigenous, that William McKinny, who gave the gift of Sam to Frodo, is still adding to the relevance of a Headstone, along the creek bed, on the land that once was his.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:13 PM EST

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Monday, February 1, 2016

Doesn't Anybody Know My Name
Mood:

hug me
Topic: "The Blue Dog"(11)

Jerry Delano Taylor, aged 82, passed away on Thursday. Frodo and Sam visited him for the last time on the Monday before, when informed that he felt coming soon was very important. His daughter confirmed the diagnosis and told Frodo that he would get a closing meeting with his oncologist on Friday, after Frodo's visit. He didn't make it that long.

Jerry was born in Goldsboto, North Carolina and as his middle name indicated, into a Democratic household. The world changed significantly after the Korean War that raged incessantly when Jerry reached his 20th year. Social and racial change was so pronounced that customary political affiliations of a century or longer came totally unglued. Jerry was not unaffected, but he was also a sensitive and wise young man. He stayed as close to the politics of his birth as he could rationally manage. He voted for Democrats when possible, but not so frequent as in the past, or absent resentment for apparently unrequited justice.

Jerry was no longer a "Yellow Dog."

Jerry had a sense of humor that crossed every imaginable red line, but was accepted by everyone around him. He was not afraid to speak his mind, or make jokes, at anyone's expense. Frodo was in the room when a prominent individual introduced himself as a "barrister." Jerry paused then offered the comment to the entire room that he truly regretted that the gentleman did not have a daddy. Jerry endeared himself to Frodo at that very moment some 46 years ago.

They often argued, especially since Frodo had no interest in stepping down from the moral highground. Jerry undid Frodo's arrogance with grace, aplomb, and the wit of the rapier. They never got angry with one another, and they respected each other at work, Over the years they battled Orcs, often from faraway locations, but they never lost touch. Five minutes after an absence of years would sound as if they'd been drinking beer, telling jokes, and complaining about "Black History Month" from opposite sides on a daily basis.

Jerry always made Frodo laugh, and he charmed Sam with the rogue-like implication of something extra-marital. Losing our friend has taken laughter out of the life of the Hobbit. He was a good man, who loved dogs nearly as much as Frodo, and together they shared good times and true friendship. Frodo spoke of his friend before a small congregation in Fayetteville, Georgia. As he walked away Frodo noted that there were soldiers, both blue and grey, at rest outside. TAPS escorted this sailor home. A pity it is, dear reader, that you did not know such a man. Now, at least, you know his name.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:59 PM EST

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Monday, January 18, 2016

You Can't Hide Your Lyin' Eyes
Mood:

lyrical
Topic: "Glenn Frey"(11)

Frodo and Sam have been to the Hotel California. They understand what "You can check out, but you can never leave" really means It has been the theme of the Hobbit to reflect upon America's true art form, her music. Tonight, at the age of 67, one of those mountains of magical musical tours has left the building.

Frodo's eyes are moist, for this seems to be happening every day now. Although Frodo never met Glenn Frey of the Eagles, he will think of him and sing along, even when those nearby clamor for something more tuneful. It is, indeed, a dark highway that awaits us all.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:43 PM EST

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Friday, January 8, 2016

In My Hometown
Mood:

blue
Topic: "Water Into Wine" (11)

Frodo moved before he started school. He moved again from temporary quarters. His first real home was in a place where everyone else moved, as if Frodo was always meant to develop imaginary friends and silent speeches. His adult years demanded periodic relocations as his skills and self-awareness were expanded in important directions. When he and Sam settled in the Shire they were far removed from nearly all that they knew, and their home was thus, but it was never in his home town.

Frodo has never been to Michigan. He most probably will never visit Michigan. It is cold there, and Frodo is increasingly reluctant to frost his own pumpkin, willingly. Michael Moore, whose humor is admired by the Hobbit is the only person Frodo can recall who is from Michigan. Flint, Frodo understands is the town that Moore calls home.

Given the events of the recent past, Frodo has decided to call Flint, Michigan his hometown. Absent a real hometown, Frodo is hereby adopting a town which truly needs to attract Middle Earthlings desperately. Mismanagement on many levels has poured polluted waters into Frodo's new hometown. It appears as if there are more than 9000 children who have consumed poisonous lead, and for whom there is apparently little that can be done about it. This abuse of governmental responsibility continues today, and even worse is the fact that officials have known about the poisoning for over a year.

Please pardon Frodo as he pukes in the parking lot.

It id one hell of a note to befall his hometown. It shames us all, all of us who love our hometowns.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 4:21 PM EST

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Friday, September 25, 2015

Song Sung Blue
Mood:

don't ask
Topic: "Bridge at Andau"(11)

By sheer happenstance, Frodo had access to literally hundreds of individual issues of the National Geographic Magazine throughout his formative years The relevance thereto reflects on the presence of nakedness as opposed to countless maps and diagrams. In fact, Frodo took bolder steps as he "matured" seeking similarity to potential comparisons in closer proximity to the Shire. It was the Reader's Digest that offered him early fabled verbal descriptions that went beyond any photograph.

In 1956 the brave people of Hungary stood in front of Soviet tanks to obtain freedom. A year later the effort collapsed and the Hungarian freedom fighters were brought under the iron heel of Soviet troops. Not unlike Davy Crockett, it "was freedom fightin' another foe" to the hobbit and he amassed everything he could in order to prepare for the inevitable struggle for Middle Earth. It was then that Frodo came across the name of James Michener.

Michener wrote a book describing the torture faced by the insurgents and in that book he described physicality that surpassed the attraction of naked native boobies. Michener alleged that, in order to obtain information, the Soviets inserted glass tubes into the penises of their captives and struck the glass tubes until they shattered into miniscule pieces of glass.

Frodo felt instant pain when next he contemplated taking a piss. In fact, he probably avoided any physical touching of his genitalia for at least a week (after all he was pre-teen in Eisenhower's America). The fact remains however that it was a written word which had painted him a picture, and it was James Michener who opened the door to stories which rivaled the Minotaur and the Plains of Troy.

Thank you Sir. Sad it is however that the Hungarians fail to treat thousands of immigrants as if all suffering ended more than fifty years ago. Suffering seems never to be extinguished, saddest when applied by those who know its impact and seemingly ignore bloodstains even on their own hands. How much further is the bridge?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 12:46 PM EDT

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Monday, August 24, 2015

Rainy Days and Mondays Always Make Me
Mood:

not sure
Topic: "Fallin' Behind"(11)

Frodo has taken to the logical computation of his remaining days on the small blue planet. Surely, he notes, he has been here longer than he will be here in the future, but by how much? He wonders because of all the familiar names he comes across who once shared something somewhat noteworthy with the hobbit. The semi-scientific analysis is responsible for Frodo's continuing absence from the keyboard. It is the reason he wastes few extra moments inside when he needs to be outside, enjoying his (potentially) last day in the Gardens of the Shire.

Claudia Smith, once known affectionately as "Chunki," is no more. Tom, "Root" Rudisill has succumbed. The death of Harmon Killebrew drew comment from friend and foe alike equally aware of Frodo's admiration for his favorite player many moons ago. It is not surprising therefore that the hobbit finds many reasons to avoid an inside seat with a window on the world. Better, he thinks, to be outside, even if it is to simply pull a weed or pursue the rabid squirrels who draw his ire and call his canine associates into action.

It is also too damn hot. Frodo learned during yesterday's rainstorm that July represented the hottest month in recorded history worldwide, and that 2015 is anticipated to be the year to have the equivalent title. The magnificent Dandy and friend Tess yet demand an outing at the dog park, but shadowy spots soon draw their attention and an early trip home is not unappreciated most days.

Life amid these days is Monday on one hand, and rainy on the other. It is however, preferable to the alternative.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:00 PM EDT

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Wednesday, July 22, 2015

I'm a Stubborn Kind of Fella
Mood:

energetic
Topic: "Rechargin' da Shire"(11)

Over the past four days Frodo endured temperatures in excess of 95 (F) at every turn. He wheelbarrowed (note the word creation feature of the hobbit) one ton of pea gravel and more than 10 cubic yards of red mulch from his driveway into the nooks and crannies of the gardens of the Shire.This is the third time that he has undergone this mammoth task and he has drawn curiosity seekers from far and wide who felt adequate to observe, but incapable of assistance. It mattered not, the hobbit failed to be deterred.

Frodo has learned many lessons from his past adventures into the arboreal. His new plants sit in well-drained pots mobile to adjustments for sun and shade. Native growth is all about but nothing dominates the entire landscape. Bodies of water, including the "Mr. Turtle Pool," are clean and provide no pediatric benefit to hatching mosquitoes. Songbirds are more numerous than at any time in the past, and the squirrels are having an increased level of difficulty in their continuing efforts to strip every bird feeder created by man or hobbit.

There are fewer butterflies than is traditionally so. The milkweed that attracts Admirals and Swallowtails is not present. Frittalaria are massive in number and the passion fruit flower among the azaleas and the nameless plants with berries and vines as their support. Frodo ignores the protestations of Sam who seems to stumble inside just as a flotilla of caterpillar converts rise to meet the morning sun.

The refurbished gardens are truly magnificent. Frodo is joined in his gazebo by his canine assembly who endlessly enjoy the rustlings in the underbrush. The breeze carries sweet challenges to their olfactories and they lie against the sturdy legs of the seated hobbit. Every morning adds something new. Frodo's hard work is a reward.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:54 PM EDT

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Monday, July 13, 2015

I've Loved You All Over the World
Mood:

crushed out
Topic: "Buy a Subaru" (11)

www.youtube.com/watch?V=cpYxJs6D434

Frodo has never before posted in this fashion. The marketing geniuses working with Subaru deserve some special consideration however and so this path is opened. How fitting that on the night Frodo returns to the world, he finds himself with moist eyes, once again. Completing a "bucket list" for "my buddy, my pal, my friend" is something Frodo wishes he had thought of some years ago, and something he will share with Dandy when the time softly comes. Enjoy dear reader. Frodo is on the loose.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:31 PM EDT

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Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Hello Darkness My Old Friend
Mood:

not sure
Topic: "Good Friday, Maybe"(11)

Frodo felt positively vindicated a few days ago. A masterful stroke by Aragorn enveloped the hypocrisy of those who oppose him. The black gate laid asunder before all the peoples of Middle Earth, save the Grey Company. Sanctions were successful and there was no longer a need for weapons of mass destruction. Frodo could not take pleasure in the politic, he was grateful that peace was at hand.

Then, in a short biography somewhere between Section C and the Obituaries, he saw the name of Eddie LeBaron. A Hobbit to be sure, the one-time quarterback of the Washington Redskins, and Frodo's earliest favorite player. He was backed up by Ralph Gugliemi and Eagle Day, successors to the title of Slingin' Sammy. The Redskins truly stunk. They were the last team to have a black player. They were coached by men who had no talent for the game, and they were housed in a stadium that was not safe for pedestrian traffic. Only the golden arm of the shortest quarterback in the league produced any points at all for the team with the best fight song in all the land.

Eddie LeBaron is dead. He lies now on the altar before Touchdown Jesus. Frodo stands alone, not nearly as tall as the quarterback who taught him that the game is what matters. Hail to the Redskins, and thank you Eddie, for all those passes that eluded Dickie James and Billy Barnes.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 10:45 PM EDT

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