Freedom Fest

Letter to the Editor

Freedom Fest

Wow! Freedom Fest is coming to town Saturday.

Two great headliner acts!

In the park, an easy walk!

A great cause: The Warrior Healing center

The venue promises to be packed!

What could possibly go wrong?

The venue will be packed.

Forty-seven percent of the county is unvaccinated.

COVID cases are up 50%.

There is apparently no mask requirement.

Moreover the co-sponsor of the event is a shadowy group calling itself “Keepers of Liberty”.

          Sadly, we will be staying home Saturday evening.

         Stay safe Sierra Vista!

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Empty Saddle

His saddle now is empty, his boots they are reversed,

As we kneel on a knee, a-waitin’ for the hearse.

His horse clops down the road, with an empty load,

Its mighty spirit slowed, where boldly it once strode.

Friends they gather round, the sadness does abound.

And there’s a faithful hound, a-sniffin’ at the ground.

His ride is near an end, just beyond the bend,

As down the trail we wend, to Heaven’s gates ascend.

A cowboy never leaves, until the work is done,

He’ll bring in the beaves, or buck out just for fun.

Tip your big old hat, head back out on the flat,

Just be happy that, we all know where he’s at.

LDT Sep 6, ‘21

Main Menu: http://www.azrockdodger.com

Book Link: https://azrockdodger.com/2021/10/03/the-rhythm-of-my-soul/

Necropolis of Steel

An Unforgotton Graveyard

Lined up in a row, nowhere left to go,

it’s a tale of woe, after their last tow,

All have got some rust, from sittin’ in the dust,

take some parts I must, before they all get crushed.

That Mercury is nice, the Packard’s got some mice,

if I had the price, the Gremlin would suffice.

Over in the weeds, sits a noble steed,

An engine’s what it needs, to get it up to speed.

A Plymouth with some fins, gave Richard Petty wins,

bet someone had chagrin, after blowin’ that engine.

That Pontiac is cool, wrecked by some old fool,

had one at our school, the Quarter Mile to rule.

That Studebaker Hawk, could surely walk the walk,

t’was really quite a shock, a-speedin’ down our block.

There’s an Edsel up on blocks, never earned a gawk,

an Olds that never balked, ‘til the engine got a knock.

Maybe oughta’ shed a tear, seein’ them all rottin’ here,

Sure do miss my yesteryear, dual exhausts in my ear.

LDT Sep 4, ‘20

Main Menu: http://www.azrockdodger.com

Book Link: https://azrockdodger.com/2021/10/03/the-rhythm-of-my-soul/

Publishing a Book Just Got Easy

May be an image of rose

Getting a book published used to be hard. Not so today thanks to resources like Kindle Direct Publishing. Amateur writers no longer have to struggle to get a publisher to accept their work. They also don’t have to spend a fortune to self-publish their work, only to wind up with a garage full of books no one will buy.

You can literally get your work published by Amazon as an E-book and a paperback for zero cost. That’s right, zero, zilch, nada!

All you need to do is upload your manuscript to Kindle Direct Publishing at Self Publishing | Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing. The app will walk you through the process by formatting your work for publishing. You can add pictures if you like. Your work will appear on Amazon in a couple of days. Your readers can download the e-book or order a printed copy of the paperback. Amazon prints your book as they are sold, so there is no inventory to manage. Thanks to electronic publishing, any changes you make become live in a couple of days.

Few of us are going to write the great American novel, but we do have thoughts to share. E-publishing gives us a way to do that, no matter how limited our audience may be. Do you want to share your recipes with your kids? Your hundred page illustrated cookbook can be printed for 5 bucks or less. How about a family history with all those old photos? You write poetry or essays? Put them in a book for all to remember your quirky (or not so quirky) views. Got a unique skill or hobby? Share your techniques in an illustrated book.

In the off chance that your book finds a broad market, you might want to copyright it. That will cost you sixty-five bucks if you do it yourself. You’ll have to sell a few dozen copies to recoup that. Who knows, you could have a best-seller on your hands. With nothing to lose but your time, give it a shot.

LDT Sep 3, ‘21

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Soldier, We Love You

(Jarheads Too)

My 1965 landing was less spectacular

There were no bands.

Nobody spat on me.

We drove out the gate.

Just Mulliner and me.

I couldn’t cheer.

He had to go back.

Job, college, family.

It didn’t much matter.

I was alive.

I was free.

In Da Nang,

the locals lined the road.

As they did when I landed.

Cheering,

for my replacement.

I would study history.

I would vote.

I would do the things,

dead men cannot do.

Ten years later.

In Da Nang,

the locals lined the road.

As they did when I landed.

Cheering,

for the North Vietnamese.

War sucks!

LDT 30 Aug ‘21

“Soldier, We Love You “ Rita Martinson

 (1432) Soldier, We Love You – YouTube

Image
Cheering 1975

Epilogue: I got out of the Marines on May 13, 1966. The day before 14 Marines and 1 Navy Corpsman from First Battalion. Ninth Marines were killed in Vietnam. A year earlier, I had had a temporary assignment with 1/9. Semper Fi guys. You are not forgotten.

Thursday, May 12, 1966
EDGARDO CACERES, LCpl, Age 21, Tacoma, WA
JOHN B CAPEL, 2ndLt, Age 23, Glen Ellyn, IL
NEAL A DENNING, Pfc, Age 19, Willow Springs, NC
RALPH G ERDELY, LCpl, Age 21, Springfield, MA
JAMES R HOWELL, Cpl, Age 22, Tucson, AZ
RICHARD W HUNTOON, LCpl, Age 19, Leicester, MA
ROBERT E JONES, Pfc, Age 18, Corona, CA
RONALD H JUSTIS, Pfc, Age 19, Selma, IN
JAMES P LACLEAR, Pfc, Age 19, East Lansing, MI
PEDRO MUNOZ, HN, Age 22, El Paso, TX
WALLACE S PERKINS, Pfc, Age 21, Dallas, TX
MICHAEL R POPPAW, Pfc, Age 19, Dayton, OH
JOHN J SCHULTZ JR, Pfc, Age 19, Harper Woods, MI
TOMMY R WHITE, Pfc, Age 18, Kennett, MO
DALLAS C YOUNG JR, Sgt, Age 24, Salem, IL
 

Main Menu: http://www.azrockdodger.comEpilogue:

Book Link: https://azrockdodger.com/2021/10/03/the-rhythm-of-my-soul/

The Wrong Side of the Track

Glasgow, Montana

The Wrong Side of the Track

Grew up in a railroad town, wrong side of the track,

and tho I kinda’ miss it, I ain’t never goin’ back.

West Des Moines or Winnemucca, they’re really all the same,

what side of town you live in, sullies up your name.

My dad he was the Engineer, ‘a runnin’ that ol’ train,

that divided up our little town, ‘a sittin’ on the plain.

And Momma she would sing along, while packin’ his lunch pail,

“Keep your hand upon the throttle, and your eye upon the rail.” *

I watched that train ‘a pullin’ out and wondered where it went,

no ticket to some far off place, my money’s all been spent.

And the tallest thing I ever saw was fillin’ up with grain,

the farmers in their overalls were talkin’ crops and rain.

On a cold and dreary day, I offered up a thumb,

and by the time I got a ride my toes were gettin’ numb.

Then one by one, all my friends were doin’ just the same,

in leavin’ from a railroad town, there really is no shame.

Now nuthin’ in my life since then has ever set me back,

grew up in a railroad town, wrong side of the track.

LDT 5/20

*”Life is Like a Mountain Railroad,” Charles Tillman (music) and M.E. Abbey (lyrics). 1890.

Main Menu: http://www.azrockdodger.com

Book Link: https://azrockdodger.com/2021/10/03/the-rhythm-of-my-soul/

Hole Shot

See the source image

Podunk race at nowhere town,

The local “Shoes” do abound.

Pick my spot upon the line,

All suited up, lookin’ fine.

Focus on that first turn,

Inside line or outer berm?

Spot a rut that offers traction,

Hit it right ye’r in the action.

Blip the throttle, rev it up,

Maybe win that trophy cup.

Click her down to first gear,

Engines drownin’ out y’er fear.

Thirty second sign goes out,

This is it, there ain’t no doubt.

Flagman has a poker face,

Read it well to win the race.

Waitin’ for the gate to drop,

Hopin’ that you don’t flop.

Drop the clutch and hit the gas,

All these turkeys you must pass.

Thirty riders want your line,

Bangin’ bars, engines whine.

Two guys bump then go down,

Ain’t no room to go around.

Aim for a wheel, not a man,

Gotta’ do the best you can.

Muscle through the crowded turn,

As the knobbies claw and churn.

You end up in nineteenth place,

It’s gonna’ be one long race!

LDT Aug 24, ‘21

In ten years of racing, I pulled one hole shot. For me, the biggest thrill was passing the guy in front of me. It didn’t matter if he was in first or twenty-first place.

Main Menu: http://www.azrockdodger.com

Book Link: https://azrockdodger.com/2021/10/03/the-rhythm-of-my-soul/

Laguna

Laguna Beach, Orange County, California

Where everything will be all right.

There I found a secret cove,

Hidden from the rover’s sight,

Indeed, it was my treasure trove.

Underneath the circling cliff,

The salty air, I catch a whiff.

The jetty is a slippery rock,

Where no vessel will ever dock.

Look across the ocean sea,

No more war will there be.

Walk upon the shiftin’ sand,

Got a feelin’, it is grand.

A seagull driftin’ up above,

As he’s callin’ for his love.

Working nights, the day is mine,

No jet to thunder down the line.

I could prob’ly stay all day,

But I gotta’ make my way.

Laguna Beach is pure bliss,

The only place I might miss.

LDT Aug 19, ‘21

I visited Laguna Beach often during my last assignment at Marine Corps Air Station El Toro in the Winter of ’65-’66. I usually had it all to myself.

Main Menu: http://www.azrockdodger.com

Book Link: https://azrockdodger.com/2021/10/03/the-rhythm-of-my-soul/