What Have You Got to Lose?

By Fred Owens

What Have You Got to Lose?

I love this Trump jab. I took it personally. What have I got to lose? I gotta think about that.

I'm voting for Clinton although she can be awful. I oppose Trump but he is occasionally brilliant.

Like the hat. Trump wears a bright red baseball hat. I wear a hat like that. Millions of men wear such a hat. Is the Trump hat one of those coded messages we hear about, a Trumpian wink?  No, sometimes a hat is just a hat.

What have you got to lose? Trump asks the black community. You give 99 percent of your votes to Hillary Clinton and she sticks those votes in her pants-suit pocket and travels on. What do you get from her? You get a Christmas card every December with warm wishes from Bill and Chelsea -- says Trump.

Trump commits major acts of cultural appropriation with this latest action. Black America gripes about unemployment, police brutality, high arrest rates and neighborhoods devoid of good stores or public transportation -- a litany of grievances. They get to say that, but we don't get to say the same thing. I know the rules. I never say "you people." But Trump said it -- you people. What have you got to lose? Good question.

So, from Trump's red hat we go to the fashion police on the Riviera.

A man might be known by his hat, and a woman, at least in the summer, at least at the beach, is known by her choice of swimwear. It's fashion and fashion isn't fair. Fashion is a tyrant, more powerful than the law. Dress differently than other folks and you will be noticed. Dress the same as everybody else and lose yourself in the crowd.

On the French Riviera, all the talk is about the law and a woman's right to choose. Okay, but also consider this as a matter of fashion.

Burkinis are Fashion Forward. The all one-piece head-to-toe covering swimsuit is favored by devout Moslem women, but it is also making a splash in the Western fashion world. Ladies, it's time to cover up. Hemlines cannot possible get shorter so they must come down, all the way down to the ankles. No more plunging necklines -- necklines will rise to the neck, and sleeves to the wrist. The all-revealing bikini has been getting skimpier every year, but fashion is about changes and trends. The new trend is modesty.

Gentlemen, what you have enjoyed looking at will soon be covered up. It couldn't last forever. This is a great victory for Islam. Forget the civil rights issues played out in the French courts that made the burkini permissible. Fashion has never been about individual rights, fashion is about the massive social pressure to conform to the latest thing.   The burkini is the new fashion. Look for it at your nearest beach. Not just for Moslem women. Western women are wearing them too.

Driving Miss Mabel. Mabel lives across the street from us in Santa Barbara. She got her drivers license renewed at age 95, but she admitted to herself that she was getting a little nervous, so she decided to give up driving.

Her 2004 Chevrolet Malibu sits in the garage now. She told me her son will have it cleaned and polished and then sell it. "I don't need a car anymore," she said.

Mabel is working out other options. She might get a smart phone and use Uber. There is a cheap senior ride service in Santa Barbara but it's complicated. The bus comes by our street  but getting on or off is too hard for her with a walker and she can't wait outside for too long.

Now Mabel hires me to take her the grocery store and to the bank once a week. She's old, but she's not poor, so she pays me. She doesn't need her walker in the grocery store because she can hang on to the cart. Otherwise she brings a list and picks her food off the shelf.

She has resources  -- a helpful son who lives 15 minutes from here and a home that she has owned for more than fifty years.

She's thinking to rent out a room  -- to get somebody who will drive her and do other chores for a reduced rent. I told her, "Living with other people can be a nuisance."  She said, "I grew up in a large family in Montana and I know how to get along with people."

So I'm taking her to the grocery store, but she still needs to figure out a ride to her Bridge Club.

The Frog Hospital Subscription Drive has already taken in $1,025 -- and we are just getting started.It's all here -- from Trump's red hat to the Burkinis of the French Riviera. Whatever men and women are wearing, whatever they are thinking -- we have it here. At Frog Hospital you get lasting values and the latest trends -- both!  But we can't do this without your help. Go to the Frog Hospital blog and hit the PayPal button for $25. Or make out a check for $25 to Fred Owens and mail it to:

Fred Owens

1105 Veronica Springs RD

Santa Barbara, CA 93105

thanks a lot,

Fred

--

Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My gardening blog is  Fred Owens

My writing blog is Frog Hospital

Saying Goodbye

 

 

by Fred Owens

Saying Goodbye

A lot of things have happened and mostly good since I got this old flip phone four years ago.  I have Verizon service  -- always Verizon for me. No contract, $30 a month. I use it to make phone calls.

Sometimes I text. I often used the camera, but my pocket gets too dirty from garden work and the camera lens on the cell phone got scratched, so no more photos.

It's time to let the old flip phone go and move on. I went out to the Cosco store with my girl friend and shopped for an Apple iPhone SE. The salesman was a young fellow who talked a lot.

A lot of salesmen think they have to keep talking to make the sale. But they are wrong, they actually have to shut up long enough to hear the customer say yes .... but I digress.

What inspires me to finely make the switch to the smart phone is a new app called WeChat which is popular in China with over 700 million daily users. WeChat does messaging, video conferencing, bill paying, retail purchases and you can schedule dumpling deliveries too (dumplings being delivered in China).

A lot of Chinese people have never owned a laptop of conventional PC, they all just skipped right ahead into mobile phone usage and that is what they are used to.

I will get the smart phone, download WeChat and begin commerce and friendship with Chinese people. I already have one Chinese friend  -- she has agreed to show me the ropes.

The history of China is very interesting -- the great wall and all those old clay pots, stuff like that -- but I realize that the future of China is what really amazes me. I want to stay in touch with that energy. Our country has a strong and intensely competitive relationship with China. That is a good thing.

But I still have a few more weeks with my old flip phone -- boy, we got through it all together.

The emperor plants rice and Donald Trump unloads a truck. I am not being ironic. I was actually touched by videos of Donald Trump helping to unload a truck in Louisiana, to bring supplies to flood victims.

Good on you, Donald. If we all pitch in, we can get it done.

Trump's gesture reminded me of the annual custom in Japan. Every spring time the emperor of Japan plants rice seedlings in his family plot in the imperial garden. Many Japanese farmers believe that the emperor's participation is spiritually necessary for a good rice crop. And maybe they just like to see the old man doing a little work just like everybody else.

Likewise Trump is doing his bit to unload the truck. He was sneered at for only working less than one minute, but hey, he showed up, didn't he?

Did you help to unload the truck?  Did you help to plant the rice? We all have to pitch in.

Election forecast. Donald Trump is getting friendly advice and stern warnings from elder media statesman Roger Ailes. Ailes said shut up and make nice, and Donald is doing that. I think it has to do with age. Trump is 70 and feels seniority to younger people, but Ailes is 76, and Trump listens to this older man.

Be quiet, express regrets, do acts of kindness, go unload the truck -- right there Trump gets headlines and a bump in the poles.

Trump is way behind, but he is going to pull even by the time of the first debate scheduled for Sept. 26  -- that is my forecast.

No pity for Trump. No pity for Hillary Clinton.

I'm voting for Hillary and I expect she will win.

Fire and flood. Flood in Louisiana and fires in California. We have a 10,000 acre fire burning near Santa Barbara this Saturday morning. It was 3,000 acres yesterday, but it exploded over night and seems to be racing to the east -- away from habitation.

If you go to the park near our house and walk up to the top of the hill, you can get a view of the fire -- a towering, awesome column of smoke rising over the foot hills. Too far away to make anybody nervous. It's bad luck to be nervous, better to just go about your business.

Frog Hospital Subscription Drive. Your check or PayPal donation for $25 helps to keep Frog Hospital going. We serve the nation and the world by staying detached during this rough election season, but we cannot remain detached and clear-headed without your cash contribution. 

Go the Frog Hospital blog. Hit the PayPal button and put in $25.

or make out a check to Fred Owens and mail it to:

Fred Owens

1105 Veronica Springs RD

Santa Barbara, CA 93105

thanks a bunch,

Fred

--

Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My gardening blog is  Fred Owens

My writing blog is Frog Hospital

I am born

Frog Hospital by Fred Owens
 
When does life begin? When did my life begin?

I was born on a Tuesday in June of 1946. I get this from the birth certificate. I was born in Evanston, Illinois, at Evanston Hospital. My parents checked into the hospital at 5:45 a.m. and I was born at 7:58 a.m. -- two hours later. I was my mother's fourth child. It didn't take long. I was going to write "an easy delivery," but I am not qualified to say that.

I imagine Fred and Marie waking up late that night and knowing it was time to go to the hospital -- the fourth time, with less drama. Mary Elizabeth, Tommy and Carolyn were all asleep. My parents must have arranged a babysitter for them. Some relative who was easily reached by telephone, I don't know.
Fred and Marie rented a three-bedroom stucco bungalow at 2646 Prairie Avenue, hardly a five-minute drive to the hospital. Fred commuted downtown to work. It was a short walk to the Northwestern station on Central Street. My birth certificate describes him as "salesman, magazine" -- he sold ads for the Sporting Goods Dealer. Dad was typical of a salesman in that he dressed very well and was very sociable, quick to pick up a check. He was an untypical salesman in that he didn't talk very much. Maybe that's why everybody liked him -- he was a good listener.
He was 41 at the time of my birth, born in St. Louis, Missouri. Full name: Frederic Edward Owens. Mother was 31. Full maiden name: Marie Roselyn Cuny. Occupation: housewife. She was born in Chicago.
It was her folks they probably called early in the morning to come and watch the kids. They lived maybe twenty minutes away, an easy drive at 5 o'clock in the morning. It would have been Aunt Carolyn. She had a job downtown on LaSalle Street, a legal secretary. She kept that job for more than forty years, but that day, June 25, 1946, she woke up to hear the phone ring at 5 a.m. and she knew right away why the phone was ringing. And she knew that meant skipping work, to baby sit my older siblings, Mary Elizabeth, 7, Thomas Joseph, 4, and Carolyn Therese, 2.
I was born at 7:58 a.m. The birth certificate does not say how much I weighed, although I remember mom telling me I was a nine-pounder. I was named Frederic Edward Owens Jr. after my father. I was born a male, after nine months of pregnancy. In the box marked legitimate, it was checked off yes. I was legitimate.
My parents were both white. They were also both Roman Catholic, but it doesn't say that on the birth certificate.
My eyes were treated with Argyrol 20 % which is silver nitrate, commonly used to prevent some kind of eye disease.
I was a healthy baby. Mom stayed in the hospital several days, as was the practice in those days. Tuesday, the day of my birth, Dad would have taken the day off, but he likely went back to work on Wednesday.
Then who watched the three kids at home while Mom was resting at the hospital? I don't know. Aunt Carolyn had to get back to work too.
Having four kids now and needing more room, and Dad doing well on the job, my parents bought a house at 1612 Forest Ave. in Wilmette, about one mile north of the Prairie Avenue rental. Both houses are still there, made of stucco and not changed very much. My Dad died in 1974. My sister Mary Elizabeth also died that year. My mother lived until 1996, making fifty years in that Wilmette house.
Henry Zettelman, M.D. delivered the baby -- I aImost forgot that.
Paris Moon. Paris Moon is a lovely song sung by our own Holly Gwinn Graham.
Creative Content. Jennifer Newell can fix you a nice web-page and give you social media impact. Get all the buzzwords. Stay connected. I'm working with her now to give Frog Hospital a do-over. And she might help you too.
Frog Hospital Subscription Drive. The subscription drive starts next week.

enjoy yourself,

Fred

--

Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My gardening blog is  Fred Owens

My writing blog is Frog Hospital

The Darkness

 

 By Fred Owens

The Darkness

This small town in Colorado believes in the darkness of night. They say, "Let's turn all the lights down low so we can see the stars at night, even the Milky Way."

And we say, "Let us all welcome the night in our own way and not fear it, as these gentle folk have done."

Cubs in First Place. America is a beautiful place -- the Cubs are in first place with 75 wins and the best record in baseball. I grew up in the North Shore suburbs of Chicago, being born in Cubs territory. When I was a kid the Cubs always came in last place, year after year. Last place! I remember asking my Dad, "Do we ever get to win?"   And he said some day my son, some day.

Contact Information.  I keep names in my cell phone. One friend has advanced Alzheimers and wouldn't know a flea from a giraffe. I can't call him  -- what would be the point?  Another friend -- Barbara Cram -- has been dead since November, 2009, so I can't call her either. Maybe I could leave a message.

A third friend doesn't have a phone. He resides in an institution for the criminally insane and has been held there for thirty years  -- thirty years!  I cannot argue with the judgment against him -- that he did a very bad thing in 1986 and they should not let him be free unless he can display some adult responsibility. But still -- thirty years is a long time and he is my friend. He will always be my friend.

Some people who read this newsletter will know who I am talking about.

Election Forecast. Trump is going down for the count  -- so saith the New York Times, so it must be true. Or it might be true. However.....

If a Trump loss becomes inevitable, the voters will face the reality of Mrs. Clinton and her very talented husband moving back into the White House. Yes, we want Trump to lose, but we don't want Mrs. Clinton to win...... We can expect swing voters to do a lot of swinging back and forth on this.

Also, the media is highly invested in the Trump narrative. He is an interesting fellow, to put it mildly. He's one of those guys -- if you're looking for a story -- where you don't have to make things up. With Trump, he talks and all the writers have to do is write it down and compose appropriate headlines. An Outrage! Followed by another Outrage!  The media does not want the race to be over until November, so look for him to bounce back in the polls.

And think about it from Mrs. Clinton's point of view. Being ahead in August means nothing, winning in November means everything. You don't want to peak early.

Trump as Medieval King. I have an impeccable academic source -- a professor of Medieval Studies at the University of Santa Barbara in California. She agrees with my assessment  -- that Trump would make a fine medieval monarch -- illiterate, violent, hot-tempered, and inclined to pageantry. Trump would fit right in those distant times. Except he was born in the 20th century and we do not need a king, we need a President, sober and serious.

I Give Up.  I never could get anybody to see it my way, so after many years of trying I have given up on the project. It was my idea that we all ought to share in the chores -- the house work, the farm work, the yard work, the hospital work. There was to be no privilege, no exception. We should all take turns and pitch in. So that's what I did  -- five years at the hospital, three years on the farm, ten years in the yard, five years in the kitchen  -- all the time expecting to be joined by eager converts to this new persuasion  -- the belief that Americans ought to pick their own fruit.... the belief that there is no work beneath our dignity.

Mrs. Clinton wants to raise the minimum wage for those who do the chores, and I agree with that proposal. But wouldn't it dignify this necessary labor if she did a few chores herself? "Tote that barge, lift that bale."  Yes! But I give up. It will never happen.

Farewell for now,

Fred

--

Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My gardening blog is  Fred Owens

My writing blog is Frog Hospital

Dog Days of Summer

Dog Days of Summer

By Fred Owens

Dog Day Afternoon, the 1975 crime drama starring Al Pacino, is one of my favorite movies.

These are the dog days of summer, hot and humid. The leaves are tattered and the children are getting bored. President Barack Obama is flying off to Martha's Vineyard for a vacation. Hillary and Bill Clinton will be there too. Maybe they should have a barbecue together and talk about old times. Or get lobster rolls for takeout and eat them on the deck with a chilled glass of white wine.

Out here in Santa Barbara, in Southern California, we don't get the humidity. We get the drought, five years now, and the Lake Cachuma Reservoir is down to 11 percent capacity, down to what they call the Black Pool, the lowest water in the lake and you don't want to ask why they call it the Black Pool.

Venezuela is on the brink of starvation. This story has received scarce attention. It's incredible. It cannot be happening but it is. The fate of Venezuela does not fit our election narrative, but it should, so I mention it here.

The smart people -- the ones with a ticket to Martha's Vineyard -- are aghast at the menacing words of Donald Trump and his veiled threat against Hillary Clinton. Thomas Friedman tries to explain how dangerous Trump is.

Friedman says he has seen this before -- the menacing words, the ambiguous phrases. And we all know the lines from our college text. If we're over fifty we know the lines..... I don't know what the kids read in school these days....

But here are the lines....."Will no one rid me of this troublesome priest?"

said by King Henry II  -- who was a much classier guy than Donald Trump -- said by him to anyone who happened to be listening. The troublesome priest was Thomas Becket and the lines are from TS Eliot's masterpiece, Murder in the Cathedral.

So four knights of exalted degree rode off to Canterbury and killed the priest. They were not following orders because orders were not given, but hoping to please the king and relieve him of his burden.

Years later Thomas Becket became a sainted martyr and King Henry did public penance for his crime -- appearing barefoot in rags on the steps of the cathedral, covered with ashes, beating his chest, begging forgiveness.

But you remember reading that in school if you're over fifty. So you can form a judgment about Trump and his menacing words.

How do the young people form their judgment?

Hillary Clinton read Murder in the Cathedral in her school days. We all did, those of us that age. She's 68. Donald Trump did not read it. He never read anything, But he plays the part of the king very well. King Henry, the protagonist, was not literate. In those days kings did not read or write -- they had people do that for them. Effete, elitist clerics kept documents for the king. But the kings of yore fought battles. Donald Trump is does not read or write, but presumes to be a king and he will become an historic figure in our American epic, Trump is one for the ages, the Man Who Would Be King.

But it is the dog days of summer and the lucky people are on vacation islands. The Obamas and the Clintons are enjoying their lobster rolls served with chilled white wine, and the cool breezes of Martha's Vineyard.

You may think the election is bad now, but the real battle begins in September. Trump is down but I would not count him out. This will be a fight to the finish. Trump is wild. Hillary is tough. I love a good fight. Who do you think will win?

The Future of Frog Hospital. We are trying a shorter format, under 750 words, and publishing twice a week. There is so much interesting news right now that I think it will be easy. The Trump versus Clinton battle is the most interesting and fateful contest of my lifetime and I don't want to miss a single day. But I remain resolutely detached, and I will give you my most assuring language, plus useful references to such important works as Dog Day Afternoon and Murder in the Cathedral.

Pruning the Mailing List. We need to delete the names of folks who are no longer interested, so please unsubscribe if you wish. After pruning the mailing list, we will launch an early fall subscription drive.

Meanwhile, I hope you have time to enjoy the beach. I'm headed there right now,

 

--

Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My gardening blog is  Fred Owens

My writing blog is Frog Hospital

The Last Pancake Breakfast

The Last Pancake Breakfast

By Fred Owens

We had the Kiwanis Pancake Breakfast this Saturday in Alameda Park. We have it every year, for 65 years now, on the last day of the Santa Barbara Fiesta  -- 3,000 people eating, each plate with three pancakes and two small sausages, plus syrup and butter. Then they could have orange juice, coffee or milk and sit down on one of fifty long folding tables and some hundreds of folding chairs -- or sit on the grass as many chose to do, while watching the flamenco fiesta dancers dancing in brilliant costumes.

All this for $7 a ticket, or $5 if you bought them ahead of time. I sold fifty $5 tickets in the days before the event and handed in the envelope to Anita who keeps the money, and I said, here's my $250.... she smiled.

It's a big job setting up for the event in the park, bringing in an entire kitchen under tents with 16 cast-iron pancake griddles, each weighing more than 100 pounds. The griddles have to be connected to the city gas supply with pipe constructed for the purpose. Then setting up the flash-hotwater heater on the gas line and the hoses that will pump the hot water to the three-sink dishwasher. Then cover the whole cooking show with ten popup tents and screens to keep the health department happy.

Personally, since we're only in the park for one day, I don't see how the flies will find us and so we don't need the tents and screens, but it's the health department law, so that is that.

It is a thrill and warm feeling to serve a fresh, hot breakfast to 3,000 friendly people. For a small moment it's one big happy family in Santa Barbara with everybody enjoying the fresh air and good food.

All the politicians come to eat pancakes. Congresswoman Lois Capps was there and I spoke a few words with her. She's retiring this year and the two rivals for her seat were also at the breakfast to work the crowd.

So that's what we did over the weekend -- set all that up on Friday, then cook and serve all the people on Saturday morning, then take it all down again and put it back in the trailer until next year.

The Kiwanis Club has been serving pancakes in the park for 65 years, as a part of the Fiesta. But there will be no pancake breakfast next year. The members decided it was too much work, for too little gain as a fundraiser, and the health department was driving us batty.

So this year when we took down all the tents and tables and grills, we sold most of the equipment and hauled the rest of it off to the dump and that made if official -- it was goodbye to old men cooking pancakes in the park.

A sad moment for the club, but a hopeful moment as well. I said to my fellow members -- we still have all the friendship and energy, we're just going to do it some other way. After 65 years of pancakes, we put that away, and now we face the challenge of the future. Onward!

Election Forecast. Good people are spending their time at the beach in August. The obsessive political maniacs are out campaigning and taking polls, but the intelligent folks are resting their minds, as we do or should do every August. It is time for baseball and the Olympics, time for long paperback novels in back yard hammocks.

The disturbing thing about both these candidates -- both! -- is that they are so consumed with ambition. They have no hobbies, they take no pleasure, they have no time for friendship. They never take a day off. Clinton and Trump are burning enemies. And they are doing this country a disservice.

I urge Mrs. Clinton, because she is my candidate, to grab a book and a towel and head for the hot sands of  Cape Cod or Montauk Point. Do something normal. Give yourself a break.

The August polls show Trump in a nosedive. But August polls are not accurate because the good people are at the beach and scarcely paying attention. My forecast still stands -- it will be a tight race until the finish and Mrs. Clinton will win by a nose.

Keep Watering Those Trees. This bonsai tree has lived for 390 years and what that means to me as a gardener is a history of constant care. This tree has been continuously tended for 390 years. They never forgot to water! This pine tree was never neglected! Always kept in mind for 390 years!

Jim Bertolino writes good short stories on the Internet. The key to writing a good short story on the Internet is to keep it short. You start at the beginning, you work through the middle, and then you come to the end -- in less than 500 words. Anybody can write a long story. it takes a master like Bertolino to keep it short.

thank you,

Fred

--

Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My gardening blog is  Fred Owens

My writing blog is Frog Hospital

Grumpy Old Men

Grumpy Old Men

By Fred Owens

I heard from two grumpy old men who are reliable Republican voters. They won't vote for Trump and they're not gonna vote for Hillary. They will leave the space blank and vote down the ticket. A third grumpy old man is dabbling with the Libertarians. He will not commit at this point, except he said Never Hillary.

I had an hour-long conversation with Stuart Welch, former owner of the Rexville Store near LaConner. Stuart is an expert on everything so the first thing I said when he answered the phone was who is going to win the election. He said it would be a close race, but Hillary would win it. Trump is too much of a wing-nut and voters will pull up short before putting him in office.

That's what Stuart said and it makes sense. Except that 2016 is not a year that makes sense. It's wild and crazy and it's Donald Trump that makes it so. He has managed to get the entire country mad at him for his mockery of the Gold Star Muslim mother and father.

Not one voter in 500 could recall the term "Gold Star mother" before last week. I could barely remember it myself. My Aunt Bee was a Gold Star mother because her son Donald died in the World War II. She was very sad about that, Uncle Ted too, but in recent years, even with 58,000 American soldiers killed in Vietnam, you rarely heard the term Gold Star mother. Not until this year.

Do we thank Trump for making the Khan family a media sensation? It's kind of weird that his mockery catapulted two unknown people into sudden fame.

I'm writing about Trump because has been all over the front page for days. Trump is all over the NYTimes and the Washington Post and CNN and MSNBC.
Hillary is buried in the background, she cannot get a word in sideways. Being the first woman is a milestone, but she doesn't get much press for that. She has good programs, and she would be glad to discuss them, but nobody is listening. They're not talking about her program, her pantsuit, her husband..... nothing.

Instead everybody is mad at Trump. I am kind of negatively impressed. The ENTIRE country is mad at him, but he gets up every morning without a care in the world,  with no plan and no strategy. The Trump Jet is idling on the runway and Donald is wondering -- where should I go today?

We are Luke Warm for Hillary here at Frog Hospital. Last week, we considered third party options -- the Libertarian or Green parties. Nah! I just like being a Democrat too much. Gonna vote for Hillary.

Meanwhile, on the home front

Tomatoes. Don't ask me about tomatoes. I haven't got a clue. If I even look at a tomato plant it starts to wither and dry up. Or there are little white bugs eating the leaves, or gophers killing it from the ground up. I am not your tomato man. Do not come to me for advice.

Roses. I am doing much better with roses. This morning I gave a light pruning for a new customer. Twelve roses. I cut a little here, a little there -- it was like poetry, I am that good.

The Santa Barbara Kiwanis Club. I never joined anything in my life. I didn't play Little League ball because there were too many grownups watching and too many rules. I always liked playground baseball better. I never joined in extra-curricular activities at high school, not in college either.

I never joined anything. All I ever had in my wallet was a library card, a Social Security card and a driver's license. No dues, no meetings, no bylaws. None of that.

So I made it through life that way and never joined anything. I proved my point.  That's why I joined the Kiwanis Club. Now I go to meetings every week, even board meetings, and I take notes and pay attention. I am developing administrative skills, no longer fighting the Overhead, but being a part of it.

At the Kiwanis Club we raise money and give scholarships to worthy high school students. It's not complicated. We do not allow political debate or religious recruitment at meetings, so members will not get blindsided.

I will be telling you more about Kiwanis in coming editions of the Frog Hospital newsletter, but for today I am wishing you the best of health, peace, love and prosperity.

 

 

 

--

Fred Owens
cell: 360-739-0214

My gardening blog is  Fred Owens

My writing blog is Frog Hospital