tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33917514085178484082024-03-05T18:49:24.025-07:00gUnZ uPWritings and musings on the eccentric beauty of sacrifice. Come journey and write with us. We are family and friends resolved to capture something positive in a troubled world and laugh when we can along the way. This, then, is dedicated in Loving Memory to LCpl. Aaron C. Austin, USMC KIA Fallujah, Iraq on April 26, 2004. Rock On...De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.comBlogger1236125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-74420419345701359612010-04-26T13:42:00.001-06:002010-04-26T13:45:12.687-06:00I know your eyes look down in love!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOJ9aqhtSmpgkmToowxZYj7RGhgRY32AsHlF-X9UggWp1b7zSeaqvPPrDBWQ9HJ0lZmoyksnZf_c3gbnZiUzqdHH9gVh4H5Fen_kMCQsg4SiT6_r1iJAK__Xu-XNA1v0GDZuxeit-WXM/s1600/lunch_aaron's_eyes.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 117px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 58px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464534451991728370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOJ9aqhtSmpgkmToowxZYj7RGhgRY32AsHlF-X9UggWp1b7zSeaqvPPrDBWQ9HJ0lZmoyksnZf_c3gbnZiUzqdHH9gVh4H5Fen_kMCQsg4SiT6_r1iJAK__Xu-XNA1v0GDZuxeit-WXM/s400/lunch_aaron's_eyes.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-size:180%;">Six years today, Aaron. We only love you MORE!</span></div><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-12435175539583299322009-11-10T11:25:00.000-07:002009-11-10T11:26:29.819-07:00<strong><span style="font-size:180%;color:#330099;">Happy 234th birthday, Marines! And thank you!</span></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-8270535127713350242009-10-18T19:28:00.000-06:002009-10-18T19:28:00.325-06:00Fallen Heroes Memorial: Marine Lance Cpl. Aaron C. Austin<a href="http://www.fallenheroesmemorial.com/oif/profiles/austinaaronc.html">Fallen Heroes Memorial: Marine Lance Cpl. Aaron C. Austin</a>: "'I met Cpl. Lee Howard Hampton a few weeks ago. He is a great person and we are good friends now, he says that he and Austin were great friends. I hope to meet Austin someday too, wherever he is, and tell him thanks. Cpl. Lee moved to Austin TX so he could hear Austin's name everyday.<br /><br />Please know that there are many people out there who greatly appreciate what you Marines do for us.<br /><br />Thanks.'<br />Jason Rose of Austin, TX/USA"<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-38162576916838258152008-12-25T23:07:00.002-07:002008-12-25T23:14:02.766-07:00Merry Christmas from the Miller's<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuXT5l8Ze0Ddf5DGKMLHhOhvNRNTLbCu_7zUkcYSZuWldTKTj7RSFNRhmgw3uMDPpadARtQtAeDuF6lnYUi9J_8JOgQPRm7-PyCHCCd7qpy6Yu5MY22jEPDoSyMcaA5lIo0Ni5QCwEBII/s1600-h/De'on+and+Greg.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283977390117840194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 212px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuXT5l8Ze0Ddf5DGKMLHhOhvNRNTLbCu_7zUkcYSZuWldTKTj7RSFNRhmgw3uMDPpadARtQtAeDuF6lnYUi9J_8JOgQPRm7-PyCHCCd7qpy6Yu5MY22jEPDoSyMcaA5lIo0Ni5QCwEBII/s320/De'on+and+Greg.jpg" border="0" /></a> God bless each of you on this special day and throughout the coming year. Thank you all for your sacrifices. The troops remain in our prayers daily, and particularly during the holidays. </div><br /><div align="center">Semper Fi, Marines,</div><div align="center">De'on and Greg Miller<br /></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-37082840408002750232008-07-30T09:19:00.001-06:002009-08-22T11:13:18.605-06:00ImportantI’ve just read an article in our newspaper titled “Suicide Hot Line Got Calls From 22,000 Veterans.” It is an AP writer by the name of Katharine Euphrat who wrote it. The figures are startling and come from the VA and the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline evidently.<br /><br />I just want to take this time to echo a thought and a message I left on Aaron’s message board on May 29, 2006 copied below.<br /><br />I have to go to Heart’s Desire right now, but this afternoon I’m going to try and get in touch with the VA or the suicide hotline to see if there’s any way I can help from where I sometimes feel stranded. I would be honored to volunteer in this capacity.<br /><br />If someone knows a connection off-hand that I could speak to, I’d appreciate the info. I called the VA and the nearest regional office near me is in Albuquerque, 5 hours away. But I will check further.<br /><br />Meanwhile: VETERANS: I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANY PEOPLE IN THIS WORLD. YOUR SACRIFICE IS FOREVER. THAT IS THE TRUE AND UNSELFISH SACRIFICE.<br /><br />AND WE STILL NEED YOU. MORE THAN EVER—WE NEED YOU. HANG ON. YOU ARE WORTH SO MUCH—MAYBE YOU ARE THE LIFELINE FOR ONE OTHER, ONE OTHER GENERATION, ONE OTHER SOUL IN TORMENT, ONE OTHER BROTHER!!<br /><br />Much love,<br />Aaron’s Mom<br /><br />--the old message follows—it is still true today!<br /><br /><br />May 29, 2006<br /><br />Thank you for your sacrifice, son. Everyone in our country, as well as other countries, owes you and those like you such an enormous amount of gratitude. Some don't realize it at all, and others of us can only speculate, but spending five days in our nation's capital, admiring the portraits and statues of those before you who stood for freedom as well-- and not once was the cost small. Korea-54,000 names (imagine the number of families this sorrow reached out and devastated in the clutches of sorrow). Vietnam-50,000. The white crosses of soldiers and infants killed in the Civil War. Presidents, Lincoln and Kennedy, slain in their prime. Other bodies, unknown, unidentified. Blood, tears, blood, tears, over and over.<br /><br />The haunting portraits of the Holocaust. The young Jewish boys in the museum with their heads covered by the fabric of their faith. America, at first hesitant to get involved, did involve themselves in Hitler's country and affairs. Thank God we went to save the few, fight for their inch of freedom and discover the atrocities of somebody else’s business. Nosed into a terrorist business and put those on trial for their horrible crimes against the persecuted.<br /><br />So many cultures filled D.C. to visit the memorials of all that has been given to stroll in the land of the free. Koreans, Pakistani, Panamanians, nearly every race in our free world walked those avenues, snapped digital photos of the cost, and enjoyed the benefit of it all, hopefully a tiny bit more at those solemn moments, perhaps stood still a moment and reflected on something about this country that they were thankful for. That they, with me, were not able to find a precious moment in our history to stop and say, There, there. This is where we should have stopped fighting for our freedom as well as the freedom of those we do not even know. Here is the point where we should have stopped caring for humanity and shouted at Washington, no more...we've had enough. <strong>No, there was no point in the tours that I thought to myself: I don't care what all you did before, for us, I just care about me. Damn the future generations.<br /></strong><br />No, I thought none of these things. In awe, I was thankful and I wanted every tourist there, every free South Korean, every free Panamanian and Pakistani, and especially every American there in D.C. and Virginia to know that, My son has joined those who stood for something.<br /><br />Thank you, Aaron. From the bottom of my heart, on this third Memorial Day without your laughter to fill our homes, I find it in the wind chimes and birds, and I find it on the streets before my home as young men race in their cars down the street, play their music loud and free, and I look at those kids and I think, you don't know how fortunate you are that so many people cared enough about you to die for you. And then I think that in a way, that too, is a great thing. That so many of us have always lived in freedom.<br /><br />I will never quit missing you. And I will always be proud of you. Semper Fi, Marine,"Mom" (De'on Miller, Mother of Aaron C. Austin KIA, April, 2004)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-13227988507171992392008-02-29T15:35:00.000-07:002008-01-10T15:40:09.630-07:00Time<div align="center"><a href="http://www.biblesociety.ca/free_scriptures/escriptures/ecclesiastes3/ecclesiastes3.html"><span style="font-size:100%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153980508597293186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmk1sD9q0JKyr02BYX3rLKhNDQIs7XIKdQfBez5OBcHq0s9rcSZQrlifAiqlbkzmQfQ-acKjTVP9XmCf8NWfsjYppHri9bgrHYGiBNYyuJRyLa_VOROA-3QxVbLWYLTwCqN6jBReXrqBc/s400/Leaving.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:100%;"> <a href="http://www.biblesociety.ca/free_scriptures/escriptures/ecclesiastes3/ecclesiastes3.html">Click here for Ecclesiastes 3</a></span><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-45210886262257517772008-02-29T06:40:00.006-07:002008-02-29T07:10:09.205-07:00Great Conservative William F. Buckley, Jr. - Dead at 82<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha5H3lyaRNYFxoM0_jFUJVCG1rovHw8KkCabxSE9w8h_YPuWSvzBJkzuxp8jk6VVqPB4-Blw4LOz6RBJ53zsiVeKpk8fpg9mdK4CuWG03THtqjZZIGjY-RoRw4Uqw3VEQSJWog2R410u6H/s1600-h/William+F.+Buckley,+Jr..jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172401836704122178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha5H3lyaRNYFxoM0_jFUJVCG1rovHw8KkCabxSE9w8h_YPuWSvzBJkzuxp8jk6VVqPB4-Blw4LOz6RBJ53zsiVeKpk8fpg9mdK4CuWG03THtqjZZIGjY-RoRw4Uqw3VEQSJWog2R410u6H/s320/William+F.+Buckley,+Jr..jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.city-journal.org/index.html"></a><strong><span style="color:#003300;">William F. Buckley, Jr. - 11-24-25 to 2-27-2008. God Bless and Rest in Peace.<br /></span></strong><div><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#000099;"></span></span></strong> </div><div><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#000099;">CITY</span><br /></span><span style="font-size:78%;color:#000099;">JOURNAL</span></strong></div><br /><div><strong></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#660000;">Myron Magnet</span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">The Unbought Grace of Life: Remembering William F. Buckley, Jr.</span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#003300;">27 February 2008<br /></span></strong></div><br /><div>When I saw a headline a few months ago, A WORLD WITHOUT BILL BUCKLEY, my blood ran cold. A smaller, drabber world indeed, I thought. The appropriately adulatory text (a book review, as I recall) calmed me down, but anyone who had seen Bill recently knew that the smaller, drabber world was at hand.<br /></div><br /><div>In illness, he became, if possible, even more gallant. At a party he gave a while ago to celebrate the publication of his brother Jim’s memoirs, he spoke with his usual wit, warmth, and eloquence—but seated on the stairs. He apologized for his ridiculous position, as he called it, explaining that he didn’t feel well enough to stand and would now go back to bed. Not so long afterward, he replied to the condolence note I had sent when his vivid and unforgettable wife Pat died. Its whole point was to make me feel good, an act of gracious generosity that, under the circumstances, took my breath away.<br /></div><br /><div>When I heard of his death this morning, a phrase of Edmund Burke’s popped unbidden into my mind: “the unbought grace of life.” Many will write, in due course, about Bill’s towering importance in our nation’s political and intellectual life. But beyond that, his whole being provided an answer to that ultimate question, How then should we live? From first hearing him speak at my high school when he was a young man, through watching him in sparkling, imperious, and rather intimidating action as his guest on Firing Line, I saw his character become ever more clearly the unmistakable, irreplaceable Buckley: witty, cultivated, playful, urbane, gracious, brave, zestful, life-affirming, tireless, and gallant—the incarnation of grace. He taught many not only how to think but also how to be.<br /></div><br /><div><em><strong><span style="color:#336666;">Myron Magnet is the author of The Dream and the Nightmare: The Sixties’ Legacy to the Underclass. He is City Journal’s editor-at-large and was its editor from 1994 through 2006.</span></strong></em></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-3338824315149227052008-02-28T11:44:00.001-07:002008-02-28T11:45:51.009-07:00FINALEFebruary 28, 2008<br />11:18 AM<br /><br />Hey folks,<br /><br />I’ve spent the last couple of weeks going over the decision I’ve ultimately reached. I’m going to quit the blog. It’s been more of a gut-wrenching decision than one would think, but deep in my heart, I know it’s time for a new thing—for me at least.<br /><br />I will continue writing, as I am working on a book. The first hints of spring have my attention captured already. The reading I’ve left off due to a real lack of concentration fully beckons the need in me for a new story, somebody else’s story—I’m thinking a few belts of Dickens is highly in order. My sister, after thirty years, could be moving to the beautiful state of Texas. I suspect most blog readers are on MySpace and I’m already so sick of politics and all things negative, that I truly don’t know how I’ll make it to November without screaming. (So, Mom, you’ll have to send emails to your comrades! ;)<br />I’ve started doing just a small bit of volunteer work.<br /><br />As you can see, I don’t really know the reason, but I do feel like I’m trying to put life into something that I believe has ran its course. Maybe sometimes it really is better to just let things go when their course is finished.<br /><br />Naturally, I will keep the blog open. I’m always up for any comments from any of Aaron’s brothers or any of my blogger friends, and those will always reach me by my email.<br /><br />I have so many photos on the blog that it takes a great deal of time for it to load. I’ll keep the photos there as they are a gift from me to any of you who would care to look again or capture some of your own.<br /><br />I can’t express just yet what this blogging time has meant to me. Just short of two years, it gave me a way out of myself and into the lives of others. So many of those others have become friends that I hope I’ll have forever.<br /><br />I will always be a Gold Star Mom, and I will always grieve for my son. These things are inseparable from the person I began to grow into nearly four years ago, but even that is changing. Sometimes it’s as hard as it was on that first day (this very moment for example)—I’m not much of one for goodbyes, but still, it is four years later—it becomes more personal, or maybe understood as something that has to be worked out in a multitude of ways.<br /><br />I’ve reached a stage in my life that I know if I’m to continue healing, then I have to continue growing, searching. Maybe outside of Aaron. I don’t know. It breaks my heart to even think that, and I don’t know what God has in store for me, but somehow, I feel as if I’m going to have to step outside my doors more to find it.<br /><br />My heart, always,<br />De’on<div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-72658417982489897222008-02-27T07:03:00.001-07:002008-02-27T07:05:39.379-07:00Wednesday Hero<center><img alt="Navy Chief Special Warfare Operator (SEAL) Michael E. Koch" src="http://img218.imageshack.us/img218/7370/michaelekochsu5.jpg" border="1" /></center></img><center><i>Navy Chief Special Warfare Operator (SEAL) Michael E. Koch<br />29 years old from State College, Pennsylvania<br />East Coast-based SEAL team<br />February 4, 2008<br /><img alt="" src="http://img60.imageshack.us/img60/5218/navykp4.gif" /></img><br /><br />"There are only approximately 2,500 SEALs in the Navy and they really are a brotherhood," said Naval Special Warfare spokesman Lt. David Luckett. "This is another unfortunate reminder of the risks and sacrifices these amazing warriors and their families make on a daily basis."<br /><br />Koch leaves behind his parents and a fiancee. He enlisted in July 1998 and entered SEAL training in January 1999, according to The Virginian-Pilot of Norfolk. He received the Bronze Star, Joint Service Commendation Medal and three Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medals.<br /><br />Navy SEAL Michael E. Koch died Feb. 4 after being wounded by small-arms fire during combat operations in Iraq alongside fellow SEAL Nathan Hardy, who was profiled last week.</center></i><br /><br />These brave men and women sacrifice so much in their lives so that others may enjoy the freedoms we get to enjoy everyday. For that, I am proud to call them Hero.<br /><span style="color:red;"><span style="font-size:85%;">We Should Not Only Mourn These Men And Women Who Died, We Should Also Thank God That Such People Lived</span></span><br /><br /><b>This post is part of the Wednesday Hero Blogroll. For more information about Wednesday Hero, or if you would like to post it on your site, you can go <a href="http://rightwingrightminded.blogspot.com/2006/08/wednesday-hero-blogroll.html">here</a>.</b><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-74703978234901469392008-02-26T11:19:00.001-07:002008-02-26T11:22:56.203-07:00Title It!--Lisa's Choice<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlyXjL8tE-iODzSo9oiEUB35n2CJSbnPE4SVWSlWvkJNMFGp3ooYY5SXKHNa-Os5MXQATsdx1MV7W9yezPGZzNuRsXKqveu5nROPPQbBsfYjokzC1zA8XtLyWiJ3UEd2xTvcIEyXkdLtA/s1600-h/title+it.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171355458912183186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlyXjL8tE-iODzSo9oiEUB35n2CJSbnPE4SVWSlWvkJNMFGp3ooYY5SXKHNa-Os5MXQATsdx1MV7W9yezPGZzNuRsXKqveu5nROPPQbBsfYjokzC1zA8XtLyWiJ3UEd2xTvcIEyXkdLtA/s320/title+it.jpg" border="0" /></a> Winning Title Goes Here<br /><br /><br /><div align="left">Come up with a title you think <strong><span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6600;">Lisa</span></strong> will choose as the winning title for this painting.<br /><br />Winner chooses the next photo and then judges those titles.<br /><br />One title per player can be left in the comments.<br /><br /><strong>Deadline is Sunday, March 2, 2008 @ 8:00 PM MST</strong><br /><br />Anyone can play!</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-20300325045517746112008-02-26T00:02:00.006-07:002008-02-26T00:33:06.318-07:00Plebis - the People's Dog: Click on Him Now!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87CAYpjkClZk3-PFS35AGaLoA12jQCCNJwA6gMUlaSzakXsWerCitMZdez-KeVOjWpqyZoF_d29CLK8Hr1-7HcYYt6gPxbqlfbQYwoYpei4IFFP43POOd1fnpDvAsMbgDM4fKfyvHE9dI/s1600-h/Snowperson+melting.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171188536067798786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh87CAYpjkClZk3-PFS35AGaLoA12jQCCNJwA6gMUlaSzakXsWerCitMZdez-KeVOjWpqyZoF_d29CLK8Hr1-7HcYYt6gPxbqlfbQYwoYpei4IFFP43POOd1fnpDvAsMbgDM4fKfyvHE9dI/s320/Snowperson+melting.gif" border="0" /></a> <strong>Click on <span style="color:#ff0000;">Plebis-<span style="color:#000099;">Snowperson</span> </span><span style="color:#000000;">picture</span>, and see that <span style="color:#ff0000;">Plebis</span> is doing the People's work. His "work" is a visual metaphor of the Hillary Clinton Presidential campaign. The <span style="color:#000099;">Snowperson</span> is Hillary..........</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><strong>Good boy, <span style="color:#ff0000;">Plebis</span>! Good boy!</strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-10029090322026831062008-02-25T20:26:00.006-07:002008-02-25T20:48:48.829-07:00Hillary Clinton: A Dull Version of Bill Richardson, Fast Becoming Duller<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRuCdxNcjjkXw6_K40LWmBLFjItjKElizZzUYx3c5EmdQKTiMAr-b4vFxE2LnloccTImQtwvBb7sPBBGv8b48sTbdKh5TQ9fTEcwWrhUYPiSDgBUMQNXij6f0_DpfqeJLFOTM88Jmnzxz-/s1600-h/Hillary+-+2007.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171128200367224514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRuCdxNcjjkXw6_K40LWmBLFjItjKElizZzUYx3c5EmdQKTiMAr-b4vFxE2LnloccTImQtwvBb7sPBBGv8b48sTbdKh5TQ9fTEcwWrhUYPiSDgBUMQNXij6f0_DpfqeJLFOTM88Jmnzxz-/s320/Hillary+-+2007.bmp" border="0" /></a> <strong><span style="color:#6600cc;">Hillary Rodham "Czarina" Clinton - 2007<br /></span></strong><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2lSq6dzQFnO8hSkipT8a0uZeia9pLKY2FPWha781FPVsOg734kcaIY3sN1G-ihDCy3qLcj9VxXSnq-07oIgK1MSySwJ8tpuuiWtbRyv4DcsIUwTt0thKV6t8RCP13gTlDiyc3obB8oMd-/s1600-h/Hillary+-+2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171127620546639522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2lSq6dzQFnO8hSkipT8a0uZeia9pLKY2FPWha781FPVsOg734kcaIY3sN1G-ihDCy3qLcj9VxXSnq-07oIgK1MSySwJ8tpuuiWtbRyv4DcsIUwTt0thKV6t8RCP13gTlDiyc3obB8oMd-/s320/Hillary+-+2008.jpg" border="0" /></a> <strong><span style="color:#330000;">Hillary Rodham "melancholy-dignity-in-decline" Clinton - </span><span style="color:#330000;">2008<br /></span></strong><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitYhrI6ooCCBbQ1gmUifxi1vrwHdsEaP-8L36OO0WwwGgVoiyDBeh02MqZToCdnwO8ndhaQEwv3xrGJJW-mdb3rR0PPUTzONoeV_91yZYJ1RG2vVgU3X8j_HOxi-M5r51Acbygk9Ynfz0d/s1600-h/Mark+Steyn.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171127500287555218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitYhrI6ooCCBbQ1gmUifxi1vrwHdsEaP-8L36OO0WwwGgVoiyDBeh02MqZToCdnwO8ndhaQEwv3xrGJJW-mdb3rR0PPUTzONoeV_91yZYJ1RG2vVgU3X8j_HOxi-M5r51Acbygk9Ynfz0d/s320/Mark+Steyn.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong><span style="font-size:180%;"> <span style="color:#990000;">Mark Steyn<br /></span></span></strong><div><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;"></span></strong> </div><div><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#003300;">National Review Online</span></strong> </div><div><a href="http://article.nationalreview.com/q=ZjA4NTk1NTk4Yjg2MDdmNDU5Nzg5Y2MzNWU3ZDViOGQ">http://article.nationalreview.com/q=ZjA4NTk1NTk4Yjg2MDdmNDU5Nzg5Y2MzNWU3ZDViOGQ</a>=<br /><strong><span style="color:#003300;">February 23, 2008</span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#990000;">Hillary Richardson: The Democratic party has a new star.</span></strong></div><div><strong><span style="color:#000066;">By Mark Steyn<br /></span></strong></div><br /><div>On the day that Margaret Thatcher was toppled by her own party, I ran into an old friend, a hardcore leftist playwright, Marxist to the core, who wasn’t as happy as he should have been. He jabbed me in the chest. “You bastards on the right!” he fumed. “You wouldn’t even let us be the ones to drive the stake through her heart.”</div><div> </div><div>I’m sure in America’s Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy there are similar mixed feelings this week. The Clintons have met their Waterloo but it’s not some doughty conservative warrior who gets to play Duke of Wellington, only some freshman pap peddler of liberal boilerplate whom no-one had heard of the day before yesterday.</div><br /><div>Such are the vicissitudes of politics. I see from the gay newspaper the Washington Blade that, as the headline writer put it, “Clinton Leads Among Gay Super Delegates.” Only in the Democratic party. I don’t know how many supergays it takes to outvote the non-super primary and caucus voters from Maine to Nevada to Hawaii. They may yet pull Senator Clinton’s chestnuts out of the fire, but they’re looking pretty charred and indigestible right now. Unlike the Fall of Thatcher, it’s nothing so glamorous as an act of matricide, but just the nightly hell of a tired vaudeville act that can no longer find the spark.</div><br /><div>Bill Clinton understood a crude rule of show business — that, if you behave like a star, there are plenty of people who’ll treat you like one. The apotheosis of this theory was his interminable ambulatory entrance down mile after mile of corridor at the 2000 Democratic convention in Los Angeles, when Slick Willie finally out-Elvised Elvis — or, more accurately, out-Smarted the opening sequence of Get Smart. Apparently, no-one had thought to tell him to try to get within four miles of the stage before the introductory video ended. He was, by my calculations, outside the men’s room on Corridor G27, Sub-Basement Level 6 of the Staples Center. As he began the long, long, lo-oo-oo-oong televised walk to the podium the crowd watching the monitors cheered — and, 20 minutes later, after he’d strolled down the first three or four windowless tunnels of attractive luminous drywall, hung a left by the water cooler, taken the emergency stairs, cut across the stationery closet, moved smoothly through the boiler room and had still only reached the Coke machine on Sous-Mezzanine Level 4 and there was at least a mile and a half between him and the stage, and the Democratic activists out in the hall were beginning to figure they could get dinner and a movie and still be back in time for the last third of his walk-on, they were nevertheless still cheering. In effect, President Clinton dared them not to cheer. Tom Jones wouldn’t have risked it. Engelbert Humperdinck would have balked. But, after eight years of talking the talk, Bill walked the walk. In the hall, the delegates’ hands were raw, bleeding stumps, but the Slicker knew that if he started his entrance in Idaho those Dems would cheer him every step of the way.</div><br /><div>The Clintons turned the Democratic party into a star vehicle and designated everyone else as extras. But their star quality was strictly comparative. They had industrial-strength audacity and a lot of luck: Bill jumped into the 1992 race when A-listers like Mario Cuomo were too cowed by expert advice that Bush Snr. was unbeatable. Clinton gambled, won the nomination and beat a weak opponent in a three-way race, with Ross Perot siphoning votes from the right. He got even luckier four years later. So did Hillary when she embarked on something patently absurd — a First Lady running for a Senate seat in a state she’s never lived in — only to find Rudy Giuliani going into instant public meltdown. The SAS, Britain’s special forces, have a motto: Who dares wins. The Clintons dared, and they won — even as almost everyone else in their party lost: senators, congressmen, governors, state legislators. Even when they ran into a spot of intern trouble, sheer nerve saw them through. Almost anyone else would have slunk off in shame, but the Clintons understood that the checks and balances don’t add up to much if you’re determined not to go: As at that 2000 convention speech, they dared the Democrats not to cheer.</div><br /><div>With hindsight, the oral sex was a master stroke. Bill Clinton likes to tell anyone who’ll listen that he governed as an “Eisenhower Republican,” which is kind of true — NAFTA, welfare reform, etc. If you have to have a Democrat in the Oval Office, he was as good as it gets for Republicans — if you don’t mind the fact that he’s a draft-dodging non-inhaling sex fiend. Republicans did mind, of course, which is why Dems rallied round out of boomer culture-war solidarity. But, if he hadn’t been dropping his pants and appealing to so many of their social pathologies, his party wouldn’t have been half so enthusiastic for another chorus of “I Like Ike.”</div><br /><div>Hillary is what the Clintons look like with their pants up. Their much-vaunted political savvy turns out to be a big nothing: The supposed masters of “the politics of personal destruction” can’t turn up anything better on Obama than some ancient essay from his Jakarta grade school, plus a few limp charges of plagiarism. And instead of getting the surrogates to crowbar the enemy every time Hillary opens up on him she looks mean and petty and he gets to do his high-minded Obamessiah routine. Their star quality was also, as noted above, mostly a giant bluff. In his heyday, Bill could channel his narcissism into a famously sure “common touch” — he liked to bask in proof of his awesome empathetic powers. But, in the years since he left the Oval Office, he’s played too many gazillion-dollar-a-plate jet-set dinners in France and Switzerland, and the “common touch” has curdled. That was plain even by the 2002 midterms, when you could more or less correlate Democratic losses by his travel schedule. He’s a bust on the stump.</div><div> </div><div>And, worst of all for Bill and Hill, the Dems found a new star — their first in 16 years. Look at it from Hillary’s point of view: She’d expected to run against the likes of Joe Biden, Bill Richardson, Chris Dodd — the usual mediocrities and misfits. Then Barack Obama came along, and did what the Clintons did in 1992 — saw his opportunity and seized it. All of a sudden, she’s the Bill Richardson — worthy but dull, earthbound, and joyless, lead weights round her ankles. </div><br /><div>She has a melancholy dignity in decline. She knows she would make the better president, but every time she tries to explain why it sounds prosaic and unromantic. Bill gave the party an appetite for slick lounge acts, and this time round Barack’s the guy delivering it in buckets of gaseous uplift. Can Barbra Streisand and the Supergays get Hillary airborne again? I doubt it. Go back to that Staples Center entrance in 2000, and try to imagine Hill walking that walk. How far would she get before the applause died away and she’d be padding that endless corridor to no audible accompaniment but the clack of her heels?</div><br /><div><strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">© 2008 Mark Steyn</span></strong></div></div></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-9510506443847877552008-02-24T15:32:00.004-07:002008-02-24T15:49:20.258-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1AJoXK5u8uEv1AdY_Nj6SfZsbUmNg0BWnsn5pRZuMkmKYBedT5dx9tiMhQhy2P2Gc_yQXUGftQcJ4ygyVFVcM549kJ8j4532sfLdNggsTQY-hABg91i3hNE8vf7Lg3ES74Vm-j3Z17r0/s1600-h/agsm.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170680101074690946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1AJoXK5u8uEv1AdY_Nj6SfZsbUmNg0BWnsn5pRZuMkmKYBedT5dx9tiMhQhy2P2Gc_yQXUGftQcJ4ygyVFVcM549kJ8j4532sfLdNggsTQY-hABg91i3hNE8vf7Lg3ES74Vm-j3Z17r0/s320/agsm.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>How’s your Sunday? Pretty good around here. Lisa and Karen both have been by to see me today. Good sisters!<br /><br />Greg is out digging my hole next to Aaron’s tree in the front. On this Friday, the 29th, I will bury a bunch of certificates, cards, dried flowers, stuff like that which has accumulated over the nearly four years. I guess it sounds a little crazy to bury it, but that way, Aaron and his stuff will always be a part of this house. I’ve kept the flowers semi-clean for just about as long as I can. These are mostly flowers that were sent to me at the time Aaron was killed. I dried them and have saved them in a large red, white and blue basket. When I received more flowers, I’d later dry them and place them on top of the others. It’s been impossible to throw anything away. I’ve tried—and I just can’t let it go out of my hand, even if it’s just his name or a copy of a copy of a copy of a photo…. So, Greg’s digging and Friday I’ll lay it in there and cover it up. No ceremony. Just me and the dirt and probably Cady. The boys will watch from the back, which is where they’ll all be buried. Yes, I have all this thought out. And you’re thinking: <em>It sucks to be you</em>??? LOL!<br /><br />I know.<br /><br />But this is my last first. Leap day of leap year was the last time his foot was on American soil—this is my first leap year without him. There was a time I’d never thought I’d have to last this long without him. And then something like the image I have displayed comes in the mail and I realize that I may have a very long time to go and had better buck up.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Our troops. How do they feel? I'll tell you, Semper Fi Mom's son was great to talk to and I am so happy for how things are in Fallujah right now. We've been doing this sort of thing for a long time, folks. Let's <span style="color:#990000;"><em>keep on keeping on,</em></span> huh?<br /><br />We live in a fantastic country. I love America. I love America. I love her troops, her liberty, her land.<br /><br />Oddly enough, I feel good. Of course, I’m not the one digging the hole!<br /><br />Mom still doesn’t have her computer and Lisa still doesn’t have her picture. What good are they?<br /><br />Talk at you later!<br />De’on</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-73368662743761417522008-02-22T15:19:00.002-07:002008-02-22T15:26:33.184-07:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdKdXY46j3XvHYEbdpC0jjJZ3hkgIthSr3Gj8JHUVmS5oUoJ_Br-ZNqmxXUvw7IT5zEtz3njGl18gny_5xTb88Rc8Lvgu0Ga9jaT3Gc00-uv05XCIR-64CvC4qr0cvJz3Z1c3kmmeacM/s1600-h/The+Girl%27s+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169933159017276258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEdKdXY46j3XvHYEbdpC0jjJZ3hkgIthSr3Gj8JHUVmS5oUoJ_Br-ZNqmxXUvw7IT5zEtz3njGl18gny_5xTb88Rc8Lvgu0Ga9jaT3Gc00-uv05XCIR-64CvC4qr0cvJz3Z1c3kmmeacM/s320/The+Girl%27s+001.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIvMjufWdy3IkCd-26dwD_yR1mdPjd03jrvRCrKB7BYiv81Y7YR4GfnuX8EH3Py1ZU5z0EiMOt865pVv5QzzPiaaeTszIshwFxCiQVHBVihSmMCTE-wX4ndBf5lVH5CR7fZ0TKzfnLb8g/s1600-h/The+Girl%27s+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169933167607210866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIvMjufWdy3IkCd-26dwD_yR1mdPjd03jrvRCrKB7BYiv81Y7YR4GfnuX8EH3Py1ZU5z0EiMOt865pVv5QzzPiaaeTszIshwFxCiQVHBVihSmMCTE-wX4ndBf5lVH5CR7fZ0TKzfnLb8g/s320/The+Girl%27s+002.jpg" border="0" /></a> Lundy, Kayla, and Allie</div><div align="center">@ Jake's Sports Bar after the Raider's loss.</div><div align="center">February 16, 2008<br /></div><div align="center">+ + +</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left">Hey everybody,<br /><br />Long time, huh?<br /><br />Our vacation time together was great! We didn’t go anywhere (but to Lubbock—Greg actually went three times!) but it was good to be together around here and of course, to visit family and friends. February is always a tough month for me. February 15th is the last time I saw Aaron and February 29, 2004 is the last time he was on American soil. The unit’s plane flew on that day.<br /><br />Greg and I met Semper Fi Mom and her eldest son, Steven, who has recently returned from Iraq. Steven was a joy to talk to. Everything he shared was positive and the photos he took were fabulous. He spent a great deal of time in some of the same places Richard did. The four of us had lunch at Olive Garden. Gary, the brother-birthday-boy knew we were going and had Greg and I bring him and Karen an order to go! (They live in Brownfield, TX, 36 miles from Lubbock) so when we dropped their order off on the way back home, we got to visit with them. That was a really great day and it felt good inside to set down and listen to a Marine talk. And of course, the Marine’s Lubbock Mom is the cutest thing. She’s always smiling and so busy. She’s the epitome of sweet Motherhood.<br /><br />On a different trip, Greg and I took Kayla and 2 of her girlfriends to watch the Red Raider (men’s) basketball game against OU. We lost in the last .9 seconds, so bummer, but it was good to be with the girls. They’re all 14—nearly15, so there was a lot of giggling, but I loved it. The photos above were taken at Jake’s Sports Bar in Lubbock. We took them to eat there after the game. I had Greg bring the camera and this is the only photo we ended up with. I really wanted one of the girls standing up so that I could better show-off one of Kayla’s friends. The two blondes and one brunette are all little knock-outs, but it’s Allie I’m talking about today.<br /><br />Allie is the one sitting in the booth by herself and she’s quite the basketball player herself. She’s scored 30 points in one game of her own. A ninth-grader, her team finished up as the top regional team and now she joins Junior Varsity as they finish up their season.<br /><br />Allie is important to me for more than one reason. She’s the daughter of Ray and Jody. Ray filmed Aaron’s memorial here for me in Lovington. He was also at the unit’s homecoming party we had here in Lovington when 2/1 made it home in October of 2004. It was there at that party that Ray first began to notice he didn’t feel well at all. After a huge fight for his life, Ray succumbed to lung cancer, leaving behind his wife, Jody, whom I went to school with, and their 4 kids. The two older boys are both college graduates from Las Cruces here; the daughter a little older than Allie is a college student and has been employed throughout her high school and college career. Allie is the baby. She was only in the seventh grade when she lost her dad.<br /><br />Shortly before Ray (we called him Rapid Ray—an oxymoron for anyone who knew him—he was the most gentle and laid back soul I think I’ve ever known.), but anyway, it was a short time before he left us in that Rapid Ray came to know Jesus. He’d get one of my friends to come to his bedside and he’d tell her, “Say that prayer….” It was the Lord’s Prayer.<br /><br />What Ray wanted for Allie, she has and is. He wanted her to “dress like a girl” and he wanted her to play basketball. She does both those things and she seeks the Lord in many ways for her life and the life of her friends and family now. She doesn’t talk much about it, but she has told Kayla of how she saw her dad sitting in his chair before his computer one night, and he told her that he was okay—that he was happy and everything was good. It encouraged her greatly and that is when she became interested in this spiritual life that surrounds us all—whether we realize it or not.<br /><br />It helps to watch her blossom.<br /><br />I went to Ray’s bedside the day before he died. They had a hospital bed set up in one of the bedrooms. He had his dog in there with him. When I came to the side of the bed, he held out his arm and took my hand. I knew it wouldn’t be long and I held his hand so tight. I thought to myself, this is as close as I’m going to get to heaven and to Aaron for now. I whispered to myself; I didn’t want to startle him, but to myself, I said, “Tell Aaron hello and I love him.”<br /><br />Mom’s dinosaur computer is finally history. Her new one should arrive today, so, no doubt, she’ll be getting a post in shortly after it’s up. I know she has missed her ranting during these past days.<br /><br />So, we’re back for whatever that means! And we have missed being here for you. We appreciate you all.<br /><br />And oh yes, Lisa won Mom’s “Title It” so we’ll get her to get a photo sent to us sometime this weekend.<br /><br />Happy Friday and I hope you’re wearing <strong><span style="color:#cc0000;">RED</span></strong>!<br /><br />Semper Fi,<br />De’on<br /><br /> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-78243291501458999372008-02-22T00:48:00.003-07:002008-02-22T00:54:43.067-07:00Gary's 46th Birthday Finale<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiihg8xG_6I5GbmuGNNKMjd6knqa5aARbusXrsyMPf-yKRCe7FGgDds2J_dvg3M5On5sthPHBJ34PBJsnaBVgCyQDmNVVB-0bRDe_LDQvmSu3uvDJqFR3NiXzs-qyguK6BTSENi7zoGZyM/s1600-h/De'on+Gary+Lisa.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169708605242139474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiihg8xG_6I5GbmuGNNKMjd6knqa5aARbusXrsyMPf-yKRCe7FGgDds2J_dvg3M5On5sthPHBJ34PBJsnaBVgCyQDmNVVB-0bRDe_LDQvmSu3uvDJqFR3NiXzs-qyguK6BTSENi7zoGZyM/s400/De'on+Gary+Lisa.jpg" border="0" /></a> Yes, I've worked my way into Washington's Day as well--so Happy Birthday to you too, George. And Gary, goodnight and we love you. You have always been and will always be the baby.<br /><br />**<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#336666;">Lisa and I warmed his bottle even beyond his third birthday!! </span><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-21368540606722104532008-02-22T00:35:00.003-07:002008-02-22T00:48:29.378-07:00Heroes<div align="center">We've seen these more than once, but I'll show them again sometime. They are a part of what we have. Our memories in color.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6FEi2O6F2A-HaR1gu-w28whSFw4zSW4gfTUPpa6WXAc352a9Y-2SFi56eKyWNoFL-0Xq4x-pYZFp4TjpOxIwYiuDhSY41cv5xU1OFwGaR111d1GYpowctfqYH25LM_8ho7BoLRAP9Xg/s1600-h/Another%2520Uncle.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169706195765486386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6FEi2O6F2A-HaR1gu-w28whSFw4zSW4gfTUPpa6WXAc352a9Y-2SFi56eKyWNoFL-0Xq4x-pYZFp4TjpOxIwYiuDhSY41cv5xU1OFwGaR111d1GYpowctfqYH25LM_8ho7BoLRAP9Xg/s400/Another%2520Uncle.jpg" border="0" /></a>Aaron Cole Austin</div><div align="center">Gary Glenn Grigsby</div><div align="center">July 2003<br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJy27Ft3b8cjnRP25P-33AeDNqrAlGrWInk_ELMjJy3h7Q9c_tj5MaK1e_L1SZfiwlkJcA0rw9d0kz6ttB81w4RozT3iw6SUzaIrfj_bhweNqpIcVka93GGsys5apXvlD4jNpwtdkZ2Q/s1600-h/The+Grigsby%27s.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169706200060453698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIJy27Ft3b8cjnRP25P-33AeDNqrAlGrWInk_ELMjJy3h7Q9c_tj5MaK1e_L1SZfiwlkJcA0rw9d0kz6ttB81w4RozT3iw6SUzaIrfj_bhweNqpIcVka93GGsys5apXvlD4jNpwtdkZ2Q/s400/The+Grigsby%27s.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#000099;">August 2003</span> <div align="center"><span style="color:#000099;">William Harvey Grigsby, Jr.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000099;">Gary Glenn Grigsby</span></div><p>**My brother is the last Grigsby in our family. Our dad joined Aaron in Heaven on August 21, 2007. I know you miss your best friend so very badly this first ever birthday without him, Gary, and I am so terribly sorry about that....</p><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfoZqbktjfybf4Va8MV5wH-G8M4KcWloTGUfLd7Ut-rKqqqAX_qDw9yhxN6aGhIusXuAF4kEK4wCdo8VABZ7pQ_d2KQ-qmuzlZS49SOet3ip5MlqQ2bixGEhxeYrknGNPFKON5_cJ0GAA/s1600-h/buds+%26+beers+1.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-47882233667524150642008-02-22T00:29:00.001-07:002008-02-22T00:34:35.735-07:00He's a Keeper!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3340AGxlG8mMqcOorhrTUqgZAWiuSv5t9aNJbJE01VLlB1mz5dVdiPxrg2VL-Q-GgGa-YEKS78lB9dhV-3B0HKc8b1PUO8OetD74aF0NnhOngu8elUA_-h8nAWQ2eP6XZ5kcZLPIRIaw/s1600-h/the+new+baby.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169703979562361602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3340AGxlG8mMqcOorhrTUqgZAWiuSv5t9aNJbJE01VLlB1mz5dVdiPxrg2VL-Q-GgGa-YEKS78lB9dhV-3B0HKc8b1PUO8OetD74aF0NnhOngu8elUA_-h8nAWQ2eP6XZ5kcZLPIRIaw/s320/the+new+baby.jpg" border="0" /></a> Gary Glenn Grigsby</div><div align="center">1962</div><div align="center"><br /> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAxpsaHST12lldP9t2j99059L-HcBoiMUmkCA6fpNSWxfZG_3Crt_B8yyaqvPbIwZd21kRgGwcY8NfnVLVJfgkUHtC-tBD5oYzstyau8BbI_2WBpnyT3-l-0Fm26aL6Udh2si4gneVo4/s1600-h/Gary+and+De%27on+june+89.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169703983857328914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbAxpsaHST12lldP9t2j99059L-HcBoiMUmkCA6fpNSWxfZG_3Crt_B8yyaqvPbIwZd21kRgGwcY8NfnVLVJfgkUHtC-tBD5oYzstyau8BbI_2WBpnyT3-l-0Fm26aL6Udh2si4gneVo4/s320/Gary+and+De%27on+june+89.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a><span style="font-size:100%;">Gary Glenn Grigsby</span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-size:100%;">Christy</span> De'on Grigsby Austin</p><p align="center">June 1989<br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-79364813677759238512008-02-21T23:46:00.001-07:002008-02-21T23:51:13.567-07:001962! It was a very good year, Gary Glenn...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTpclSoiNfvC-f0C3fTimsQX3CvOUU63ufRaWfWqPe0cwORb4DKblJdbln_RQYjYrMMPWuAMq-IwangsgdiBSjTI3XcEFpg1Hc9Nn4xrH34_aUWXH101FW2kbKYrYkHTBZ-Y-T42Cf_HU/s1600-h/divine+entry.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169693053165560546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTpclSoiNfvC-f0C3fTimsQX3CvOUU63ufRaWfWqPe0cwORb4DKblJdbln_RQYjYrMMPWuAMq-IwangsgdiBSjTI3XcEFpg1Hc9Nn4xrH34_aUWXH101FW2kbKYrYkHTBZ-Y-T42Cf_HU/s320/divine+entry.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirPOZDxig3TtC1qqpBIzMXciwVJJqovy2dMZLosuZxWeV6CDhfOJlVdeUv2iyf8l30S4jIuv5mM24klAPNT98XA98oyiOYx596UChkQFu4T_oloJmj15GM06r28l4Gew8CmvyPsgJOV1Y/s1600-h/1962.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169693057460527858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirPOZDxig3TtC1qqpBIzMXciwVJJqovy2dMZLosuZxWeV6CDhfOJlVdeUv2iyf8l30S4jIuv5mM24klAPNT98XA98oyiOYx596UChkQFu4T_oloJmj15GM06r28l4Gew8CmvyPsgJOV1Y/s320/1962.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-2010798449952694992008-02-21T23:37:00.003-07:002008-02-21T23:42:39.072-07:00Click on her name and listen to (one of the many) favorite songs you and I share a love and nostalgia for, Brother Dear!<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wysJ7KeGpX4">Patsy Cline "Crazy"</a></span></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-75246619800841037232008-02-21T23:29:00.001-07:002008-02-21T23:36:32.120-07:00You and your boots... in oil<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJiROgSbpDa4fwY6GwUBsopUgm6PtOnqs6T0fCdZZhBacK9_Jrh13UBhxI83tCgn5IOpdvRzCN0Slx66tlCGiL0oDAXyzbZRe8ey7jr87nwTT5VxPLapU8_f0N7AQIAEi7lMp1dX89gs/s1600-h/Snuggle+Booties+in+oil.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169689067435909842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJiROgSbpDa4fwY6GwUBsopUgm6PtOnqs6T0fCdZZhBacK9_Jrh13UBhxI83tCgn5IOpdvRzCN0Slx66tlCGiL0oDAXyzbZRe8ey7jr87nwTT5VxPLapU8_f0N7AQIAEi7lMp1dX89gs/s320/Snuggle+Booties+in+oil.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#993399;">Painted by your #1 fan: Mom</span><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-76793660263618458102008-02-21T23:07:00.003-07:002008-02-21T23:20:24.591-07:00Birthday Boy Photos<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlHLoirM8dTqYixR360dOkm31kyCuoD1_WmhwAqprCTiLI6R0h8uQp4CdBYRfcwA5YgeoofPqag9Zl1SYbd-4luR6BDST3CWWHSMcWY6lh-RO-vVqaeUxLZizm93sb76nQOzCHNU-Tiac/s1600-h/The+Grigsby%27s.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169683020121957026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlHLoirM8dTqYixR360dOkm31kyCuoD1_WmhwAqprCTiLI6R0h8uQp4CdBYRfcwA5YgeoofPqag9Zl1SYbd-4luR6BDST3CWWHSMcWY6lh-RO-vVqaeUxLZizm93sb76nQOzCHNU-Tiac/s320/The+Grigsby%27s.jpg" border="0" /></a> The Grigsby's (bottom right photo is 1964)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNmOMpAy0eFx01xKRMitLEbxhetMeGD_MhBzi1QCZSvzn8XHeknzLTeKz_EJ_72ohkKXoUyK52VaDRG9rlgFAoSbZ-dHnBmLeKIztfX5dK-ZonK6nGlrME3oIHuBazW-HEZlEk7TxFSW4/s1600-h/gary+1964.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169683024416924338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNmOMpAy0eFx01xKRMitLEbxhetMeGD_MhBzi1QCZSvzn8XHeknzLTeKz_EJ_72ohkKXoUyK52VaDRG9rlgFAoSbZ-dHnBmLeKIztfX5dK-ZonK6nGlrME3oIHuBazW-HEZlEk7TxFSW4/s320/gary+1964.jpg" border="0" /></a> This little red rocker is still in our family (a different dress now, but it was mine so, yep, it's an antique!)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE3OkEbHpCWYbESLTYpF2-wLNnWVFTbZ-eNI4i7nvLBZl49oXji1c83rFDG6F-AGC5TpYQY0PvEkzz-JkORIvgxCplEA5kwH5-mnERpohOwxc9FdEKIG5-_xI_uLJuXe9OlhO_gsFgNUk/s1600-h/medalof+humor.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169683028711891650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE3OkEbHpCWYbESLTYpF2-wLNnWVFTbZ-eNI4i7nvLBZl49oXji1c83rFDG6F-AGC5TpYQY0PvEkzz-JkORIvgxCplEA5kwH5-mnERpohOwxc9FdEKIG5-_xI_uLJuXe9OlhO_gsFgNUk/s320/medalof+humor.jpg" border="0" /></a> How'd you get that big bump on your head?</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="left">Some February 21, 1962 Links:</div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"><a class="l" onmousedown="return clk(this.href,'','','res','10','')" href="http://www.gwu.edu/~erpapers/myday/displaydoc.cfm?_y=1962&_f=md005072">My Day by Eleanor Roosevelt, February 21, 1962</a></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"><a class="l" onmousedown="return clk(this.href,'','','res','9','')" href="http://www.nps.gov/whho/historyculture/1961-1962-national-christmas-trees.htm">President's Park (White House) - 1961-1962 National Christmas </a></div><div align="left"><br /><a class="l" onmousedown="return clk(this.href,'','','res','4','')" href="http://www.jfklibrary.org/Historical+Resources/Archives/Reference+Desk/Press+Conferences/default.htm">Press Conferences of President Kennedy - John F. Kennedy ...</a></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"><a class="l" onmousedown="return clk(this.href,'','','res','3','')" href="http://www.tv.com/the-perry-como-show/february-21-1962/episode/1155914/summary.html">The Perry Como Show: February 21, 1962 - TV.com</a></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"><a class="l" onmousedown="return clk(this.href,'','','res','2','')" href="http://www.celebrity-link.com/birthday_day-21_month-2.html">Celebrity Link: Birthdays for February 21</a></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"><a class="l" onmousedown="return clk(this.href,'','','res','1','')" href="http://stinet.dtic.mil/oai/oai?verb=getRecord&metadataPrefix=html&identifier=AD0641969">FEDERAL FIRE COUNCIL MINUTES OF ANNUAL MEETING, FEBRUARY 21, 1962.</a><br />Topics presented: 'Fire prevention and protection within the Department of the Army'; 'The costs, confusion and stultifying effects of building requirements ...</div><div align="left"><br /> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-31155613296155157262008-02-21T22:18:00.003-07:002008-02-21T22:26:20.341-07:00Who can name the years of the Birthday Boy's Pictures?<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuwL803O7Li05dIDyxHIYwijF1vBQdpoIhVewM_rti2bsIoS13LoP04s9mwrZ_AiiBuJAOZD2nS_V3nF0u6EjY70ZnwIpH1cxI76f7X0hCSSYUar0Vb3eQADkxSYw3ngR4LHeP8YQcNI/s1600-h/drums.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169670264069087858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXuwL803O7Li05dIDyxHIYwijF1vBQdpoIhVewM_rti2bsIoS13LoP04s9mwrZ_AiiBuJAOZD2nS_V3nF0u6EjY70ZnwIpH1cxI76f7X0hCSSYUar0Vb3eQADkxSYw3ngR4LHeP8YQcNI/s320/drums.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#000066;">Isn't there a story behind these drums?</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJhVI68o4i1DYnPtsf61R4jeXkLuwisyn2cYwH4i1gdGBoHt2n6RR6JcBLtaukxvE6XJKs089ZhbdVJ5xBHgnG6HYUv3XQmLoY1X3eCURZCEJBevL0TT8TdD5znKzNIDXZSmOFa1v1bo/s1600-h/hottest+brand+going.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169670264069087874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcJhVI68o4i1DYnPtsf61R4jeXkLuwisyn2cYwH4i1gdGBoHt2n6RR6JcBLtaukxvE6XJKs089ZhbdVJ5xBHgnG6HYUv3XQmLoY1X3eCURZCEJBevL0TT8TdD5znKzNIDXZSmOFa1v1bo/s320/hottest+brand+going.jpg" border="0" /></a> <strong><span style="color:#990000;">CONOCO-<em>Hottest Brand Going!</em></span></strong><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-czvqXDR-Nzc9YxPgf47-COvH725A1auLF9Jmcm_1mLKTg3pMi6vG4orxEsjraD9hm-rHb7kL_kfIyttNUYA3QOrbkrH3okiDEHzTxHfHharSKlWIru8mfA6RqtIlBcb7FwYsZHpw-hQ/s1600-h/gary+glenn.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169670268364055186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-czvqXDR-Nzc9YxPgf47-COvH725A1auLF9Jmcm_1mLKTg3pMi6vG4orxEsjraD9hm-rHb7kL_kfIyttNUYA3QOrbkrH3okiDEHzTxHfHharSKlWIru8mfA6RqtIlBcb7FwYsZHpw-hQ/s320/gary+glenn.jpg" border="0" /></a> Bow ties, blue jeans and big grins.</div><div align="center"><em>Punk, punk, we eat food, you eat junk!!</em><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-70340862505707489662008-02-21T22:01:00.001-07:002008-02-21T22:03:22.105-07:00The knot is tied, the garter in place!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzen6pXFkUKr8RXSXfOn_drWx98STzzEIbqW1PsI12VuINSJT2nL4htMNu8CM9U5HbA7EAXG4ft-be4JBt3-mNH2i0MHzUs4kLveukH_EZAYQtHLrYTclBHQbJEKylHF71urVKjGENMDA/s1600-h/april+5+1983.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169665346331533922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzen6pXFkUKr8RXSXfOn_drWx98STzzEIbqW1PsI12VuINSJT2nL4htMNu8CM9U5HbA7EAXG4ft-be4JBt3-mNH2i0MHzUs4kLveukH_EZAYQtHLrYTclBHQbJEKylHF71urVKjGENMDA/s320/april+5+1983.jpg" border="0" /></a> The Grigsby's<br /><div align="center">April 5, 1983</div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-14281575098792585632008-02-21T21:54:00.002-07:002008-02-21T22:00:52.659-07:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7AMb8uTH8XQY5BbcRrNGrmDKmYnOdX3WpgdHW92LyoVFK_hrZgQOEo-Z6FCx0BjCrjno6RTe0Chl4__ZvYFvggMoOanMN4S-QrEFT4bFwuhkwqvskacmm5eqSXqWV4PGfvS1Frowvd-0/s1600-h/gary+and+long+legs.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169663928992326210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7AMb8uTH8XQY5BbcRrNGrmDKmYnOdX3WpgdHW92LyoVFK_hrZgQOEo-Z6FCx0BjCrjno6RTe0Chl4__ZvYFvggMoOanMN4S-QrEFT4bFwuhkwqvskacmm5eqSXqWV4PGfvS1Frowvd-0/s320/gary+and+long+legs.jpg" border="0" /></a> Gary and Long Legs (Karen!)<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6aDHNQ0M8vIJUbriCF9K47-qp5QMZwcW0kWS6Q1v2Na6mkdql2hv9ec8sEp8Z8U5-hMRxRJhVp2F-3MCD1yUiCkuYyM49xFLuoom4VEtAjrOlcOIDSE0h5AruX_052jXsyNsM2_nwNcI/s1600-h/october+1988.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169663933287293522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6aDHNQ0M8vIJUbriCF9K47-qp5QMZwcW0kWS6Q1v2Na6mkdql2hv9ec8sEp8Z8U5-hMRxRJhVp2F-3MCD1yUiCkuYyM49xFLuoom4VEtAjrOlcOIDSE0h5AruX_052jXsyNsM2_nwNcI/s320/october+1988.jpg" border="0" /></a> Guess Who?</div><div align="center">October 1988</div><div align="center">I was home on PCS leave...</div><div align="center">heading for D.C. whoo hoo!<br /></div><div align="center"></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3391751408517848408.post-10312325615904672212008-02-21T21:19:00.003-07:002008-02-21T21:31:58.654-07:001962...go figure ;)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF71tNLPiiwIpcZw1pUEh8z1aPXedALf0jfZxDFFgqk3_UwpRoBJIJYZlMujvkkcp0WYOv1HebwvfdIOkGbL706En7Kk4yz13rmbNBYYUCqVWRBDl5o8Gq7KSD_9oSjLQSVDeBuVqLdjI/s1600-h/natalie+wood.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169654840841527858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF71tNLPiiwIpcZw1pUEh8z1aPXedALf0jfZxDFFgqk3_UwpRoBJIJYZlMujvkkcp0WYOv1HebwvfdIOkGbL706En7Kk4yz13rmbNBYYUCqVWRBDl5o8Gq7KSD_9oSjLQSVDeBuVqLdjI/s320/natalie+wood.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://www.cnn.com/2004/SHOWBIZ/books/02/17/books.natalie.wood.ap/index.html"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000000;"><strong>click here for a Feb. 2004 cnn article about Nat.</strong></span></a></div><div> </div><div><span style="font-family:courier new;">and for the lady she played... <span style="font-size:78%;">(I could give you a lot of links here, but we've got to run a clean Marine(?) ship. <span style="font-family:georgia;"><strong>so, here's her biography, and like Aaron, Gypsy Rose Lee died on April 26th.</strong></span><span style="font-family:arial;"> For more about her, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gypsy_Rose_Lee">click here...</a><span style="color:#990000;">and no, little brother, no one is going to jump out of a cake!!</span></span></span></span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><script type="text/javascript" src="http://embed.technorati.com/embed/nhhys3yfx2.js"></script>
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http://rpc.technorati.com/rpc/ping</div>De'on Millerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14599141539917861219noreply@blogger.com4