Christmas Elf Bootcamp - Not for Children!

What really motivates the Elves!



Merry Christmas!

d.

He wore a cane and derby hat...Goodbye Bat...

Another part of my childhood has died...Goodbye Gene. Thanks for all the great memories!

Gene Barry, Actor of TV, Film and Stage, Dies at 90

By MICHAEL POLLAK

Published: December 11, 2009

Gene Barry, who portrayed debonair lawmen on television but whose career of more than 60 years ranged from song and dance on Broadway to science fiction, died Wednesday in Woodland Hills, Calif. He was 90 and lived in Beverly Hills until about a year ago.

Read more here.

d.

4th of July Weekend

The title of this post says "4th of July weekend", I know, but I just couldn't come up with any Patriotic-type stuff to post. No matter how many tokes I took on the old peace pipe, (and I just got some new incredibly amazing "pipe-weed"), I couldn't quite wrap my brain around the idea.

So I went in search of those who originally came up with the whole "Independence/Democracy" plan in the first place. The painting above, is John Trumbull's dipiction of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, (look closely, John Adams appears to be stepping on Thomas Jefferson's foot!). No matter how hard I tried, no matter how long I stared at the painting above, I could get no closer to the truth of what it was they intended for the future of this new nation.

So I thought maybe I ought to read the document they came up with, something called the "Declaration Of Independence".

Now I've read it before, most of us have. Sometime in school I'm sure. And at that time it must have been a tedious task for a rambunctious little rascal like me. But I must have muddled thru none-the -less, it all seemed so familiar. Kinda reminded me of a place I used to live. America.

And it kinda made me remember what "Patriotism" is really all about. Kitchen Window Woman wrote a terrific post on it the other day at the American Patriot Institute site.

And it made me kinda sad when I realized that many of the Charges that these brave men, (to whom we pay homage today, well...yesterday), brought against King Geroge of Great Britain could well be brought against our own "King" George in the White House.

And that made me kinda angry.

So, if I'm feeling Patriotic this weekend, it's not in the ususal sense, that is to say, a sense our current government would approve of.

But a sense of patriotism that I'm sure the Founding Fathers, the men who signed the Declaration of Independence, who started this whole Democracy thing, would be proud of me for.

Happy 4th of July!


Oh, if you'd care to refresh your memory a bit, go here.

d.

For Anyone Who Prefers 2 Wheels to 4

Some of us are born Outlaws...

Some of us wish we were...

Some of us will never be...

Fuck safety. If I wanted to be safe, I wouldn't ride at all.

Now crank up the volume and rattle some fuckin' windows!




Ride hard.
Die fast.

Support your local 81.

d.

George Carlin

By now everybody has heard that George Carlin has died. I won't say "passed away". I won't say we "lost another great comedic voice". George wasn't like that. He called it like it was. So George Carlin died. I'm not going to rehash the details, they are available all over the net. They are on every TV news program. They are everywhere. I am going to give you a little personal insight into the man whose comedy I virtually worshiped since the first day I ever heard him. I am going to break one of my cardinal rules and tell you a story about a Star I worked with, on the set of a movie. But then, what the hell, George hated rules anyway and I'm sure that if there is a Heaven, or a Hell, he might just be smiling, either down or up, at the telling of it. Okay, hold on. I'm going to have to get just a little toasted in order to tell this right. You know how it is. There are some things you can only remember when you're in the same state of mind you were in when what you want to remember happened. Good thing I just happen to have a little of the Motherlode Mindfuck on hand.

There was a time, when like most of you, I only knew George through his comedy. I didn't know the man himself. I had no idea what he was like when he was off the stage, out of the spotlight. Then I not only got to meet the man, but to come to know him as well. In fact, I got stoned with George. Not just once. But many times.

It was in the summer, a few years ago, and I was hired on a film George had a role in. Most of my regular readers know that I smoke the Noble Weed. I make no bones about it and I refuse to apologize for it. It's my choice as a responsible adult. Hey, you drink your Martini, I'll fire up a bone and we can both be happy. Anyway, the main set was built, dressed and lit. Principal photography had begun. Since the "studio" was actually a huge, empty, warehouse-type building, there were no dressing rooms, so Production had trailers brought in for the Stars. Each Star had his/her own private trailer. There were separate trailers for Hair & Makeup, Costumes, etc. Occasionally, in situations like this, a Star will request that certain modifications be made to their particular trailer and that is where we come in. But that isn't how I met George, although I spent many an afternoon "modifying" his trailer. It happened like this.

I was returning to work after lunch. Many times we are able to take lunch with the shoot crew but sometimes our schedules are too different to allow for this. This was one of those times. As usual, I was a few minutes late returning to the shop so I decided to take a shortcut through the main stage. I had to be careful, though, because they were busy filming there. Carefully opening the side door I peered into the darkened stage. The only lights were the ones on the set itself, so it took me a moment for my eyes to adjust. The Production Assistant stationed at the door quickly put one finger to his lips while twirling his other hand over his head to indicate that they were "rolling" on the set. The microphones used in filming are so sensitive they can pick up a gnat's fart at 500 paces, so I quietly eased myself through the door and gently held it from closing so as not to make a sound. Some shortcut, I thought, now I'm stuck here until they're done with the "take". Fortunately it didn't take long. If you've ever been on a film set, you know what a Production Assistant does. Those stationed at all entrances and exits mimic the Directors orders and ensure that there are no interruptions during the actual filming. So, like I said, it wasn't long before the PA at my door cried "Cut", and signaled to me that it was okay to proceed. As quickly and unobtrusively as I could, I began to make my way across the main stage to the entrance to the shop. It was then that it happened.

Every set has what is known as the Craft Service area. The Craft Service area is basically a mobile delicatessen where cast and crew can grab a bite or get a cup of coffee or tea or a can of juice or soda. Like I said, a mobile deli. In order to get to the door to the shop without going directly through the set I had to pass by the Craft Service area. Okay, picture this. A huge room with a set in the middle of it. Dark, except for the lights on the set. Me hurrying through this, trying hard to be invisible because I'm late, and a darkened, smallish figure holding a cup of something at the Craft Service area. Moving quickly, I kept my eyes on the set waiting for the inevitable commands, "Quiet On The Set! Roll Picture! Picture Is Up! Roll Sound! Rolling! Rolling! Rolling!", which would freeze me in my tracks. Believe me, you don't want to be the person who interrupts a take. Not if you want to keep your job. Sure as hell, just as I reached the Craft Service area, the cry went up, "Rolling!"

I froze. Kinda like a deer in the headlights. Glancing about franticly for a place to hide, my eyes hit on the smallish man at the Carft Service table, holding a cup of something in his hand. And his eyes locked on mine.

George Carlin.

George Carlin was looking right at me, eye to eye. Then he exploded. And charged directly at me.

"Holy Shit! Hoooooly Shit! I can't believe it! I just can't fucking believe it!"

Time stopped. The PA's stopped. Filming stopped. And I was sure my job was gone. With all eyes on us, George ran up to me, then around me, looking me up and down with wonder and surprise on his face, as if I was some alien being, hitherto unknown to mankind. I was shrinking smaller by the second. He continued...

"It's...it's...it's you! Ain't it! It is, isn't it? You! I mean, if it ain't you then who the fuck are you?" Circling, poking away at my gut, my arm, my chest, grabbing my ponytail...my ponytail....

"Oh my God! It is you, isn't it?" Grabbing me by the arm and leading me to the table, "Can I have your autograph?"

By now the entire crew was roaring with laughter. George was the Master and I, his foil. The man was clearly enjoying himself. I didn't know whether to shit or go blind. One of my idols was pulling me closer. The entire crew was hysterical at his antics and my discomfort. Then whispering in my ear...

"Hey, kid, you got any weed?"

"W-w-weed?", I stammered.

"Yeah! Weed! You know, pot, grass, leaf, bud, trees, greens, ganja, herb, boo, smoke, joint, reefer, kif, mj, maryjane, mary-wanna, Mary may not wanna but I sure do! Weed."

"What makes you think I might have that?" I remember mumbling.

"Weeeeell, for one thing, ya got a pony tail! For another, Ya stink of it!"

It was then that I remembered that after lunch doobie I had shared with a bud.

Not waiting for an answer, he asked me where I worked. For some reason he was delighted when I told him Set Construction. Letting go of my arm, he winked at me and rather cryptically said,

"See ya later."

I smiled kind of weakly and got the hell out of there as quickly as I could.

It wasn't until two hours later when my boss approached me and told me that Mr. Carlin had requested that I go to his trailer. It seemed he wanted some modifications done and had requested me personally. Why me, my boss wanted to know. I told him about our chance meeting on the set, sans the "weed". Grudgingly he told me to get "my ass over there". He didn't want to keep a Star waiting. I grabbed my tools and split.

Needless to say, I didn't really need my tools. But I took them with me, none-the-less, whenever George requested my assistance with some "modification" or another, which was dam near every time he was on set. My boss never understood what the hell I was "modifying". But I think he finally got the picture when the job was over and George's trailer was returned, with no "modifications" at all.

I know that there are some folks who didn't like George. For some he was too "crude". For others', he spoke the truth and they couldn't handle it. I will tell you that George Carlin was a loving, caring individual who did give a shit about the planet and it's people. He always spoke the truth as he saw it. He tried to point out our foibles to us and to my mind, he did a hell of a job.

I know you're gonna hate me for saying this, George, but God Bless you. (I know, George, I'm wasting my time talking to a dead guy and an invisible man in the sky. Sorry, Bro.)

d.

Real Owners


Religion


The Seven Words

Water Heaters & Golden Oldies

Just wanted to stop quick and post a couple of my favs. This is what I'll be listening to this morning while I wrestle the new heater in place.

Enjoy!

For my Mags...




For my daughters...



For everyone-else...



Love each other.

d.

Happy Mother's Day, Marge & Sis

Four generations of remarkable women.

The Grand Dame in the center is Marge, Mag's beloved Mom. Marge left us in 2002 and we still miss her. She is surrounded by the women in her family, 'Mare (short for Rosemary) to her right, Mag's sister,Rosemary, in blue, Maggie, in black and little Melissa, ('Mare's daughter), sitting on Marge's lap.

Marge was a terrific woman who wanted to live to be 100. She was always up for anything. Mags and I would show up at her house at 0200 looking for breakfast and Marge was always there to make it for us, with a smile on her face and a laugh in her heart. The amazing thing to me is that she really loved my sorry ass and believed that I was the only guy for her daughter. I hope I haven't let you down, Mom.


This picture was taken at a barbeque we had at my parents home in the Catskills. From left to right, we are: me, my Father (deoleman), my oldest daughter, Melissa, my youngest, Moira, my Mom and scroff my brother, attempting to lift Cardboard Elvis to his shoulders, lol!

My Mom left us in 2004. She was a real Brooklyn goil and she loved my Mags as much as Marge loved me. We are both so lucky to have had such wonderful Moms.

If you are fortunate enough to still have your Mother with you, show her you love her, not just today, but everyday. You only get one, you only get one.

For All the Mom's on their Special Day!




Happy Mother's Day to all of our Moms!

d.

Any Which Way - Back in The Fray

Although they never really officially left, scroff and Ruthie at Any Which Way just seemed to fade away. Posts were more and more infrequent. Months would go by without a peep. The forums disappeared. Nothing new replaced them. The whole site became a memorial to the Left's failure to bring about necessary change in our government and our nation. This hurt me particularly, because scroff is my Brother and Ruthie is my Sister-In-Law and I am here today because of them. And I love them both very much.

From Left to Right: damarvelous44magster, deuddersun, Cardboard Elvis, scroff and Ruthalla

The picture above was taken the last time our family was all together. It was our Mother's last 4th of July. We all enjoyed ourselves immensely and I am so grateful that we had that moment together. There will never be another one like it.

Recently, I stopped by their site and to my surprise, they are back with a vengeance! The most recent post deals with a film that is scheduled for release in April called Body of War. It is a sobering look at the Iraqi War through the eyes of the men and women who fought it. It is a post all of us should see, if for no other reason then to strengthen our resolve.

The next post deals with the Fifth Anniversary of Bush's Folly in Iraq, entitled, "It is begun, Five Years Later"

Here's an excerpt and my response. This should tell you how important these people are in my life.

Today is the fifth anniversary of the fiasco in Iraq. Bush had all nice things to say about Arabs and Americans joining together to flush Al-Qaeda out of Iraq. Amazing, since there weren't any Al-Qaeda in Iraq to begin with... nor were there any WMD... nor was there any reason to invade at all but those in the imaginations of the PNAC and the neocons and of course Israel appreciates Iraq being torn to shreds. And there's the oil factor.

This is Bush's address from March 19, 2003, and my introduction to it. Read. Remember...

My response:

"How well I remember. I remember jumping for joy. Years of frustration over terrorist attacks by Muslim fanatics against the United States and it's citizens were finally being avenged. No more would we tolerate this. George Bush was President and I was glad we had a "cowboy" in the White House. I wanted someone tough enough to deal with the forces of evil. The invasion of Afghanistan had gone as well as Gulf I and Bin Laden, Al Queda and the Taliban who had supported them were heading for the hills, running for their lives from justice long overdue. I was all too willing to buy Bush's bullshit that Iraq was a willing partner on the attacks of 9/11.

Fortunately, my brother, scroff and his wife, Ruthie, woke me up from this dream turned nightmare. Patiently, they opened my eyes to the truth and I am forever grateful for that awakening.

In those days, both scroff and Ruthie were prolific posters, with new evidence and arguments daily. Time, and an unresponsive American public has long since tarnished and diminished their enthusiasm. They were scorned, threatened and bashed, both here and at Activist San Diego, a progressive site we all used to frequent. My brother, an Honorably discharged United States Marine was called a traitor, un-American, un-Patriotic and more. The Rightwing trolls would scream insults and rain obscenities down on both him and Ruthie. But they perservered. They knew they were right.

There were forums here then, and many Rightwing posters used to comment. Some were trolls. Others, like Mad Mikey, were welcomed for their willingness to discuss the issues. Even though we liked them, it soon became obvious that their discussions were merely the parroting of the Republican talking points we heard constantly from Limbaugh, O'Reilly and other Rightwing talking heads, talking out their asses. Eventually, scroff and Ruthie just stopped posting, and except for an occasional rant, not much was heard from either of them and this site became a memorial of sorts, a graveyard if you will, of good ideas and best intentions gone sour.

I am glad to see them posting again. I am glad to see new life here at Any Which Way. They changed my mind and perhaps my life, and that is important. They still have much to say. I hope they take the time and believe, as they once did, that a single post can make a tremendous difference.

Welcome back. It's been way too long.

yerbrudder"


Finally, there is this new post, Know What Sucks? If you want to see, first hand, what Bush's tax cuts really mean to our fellow Americans, this is a must read. It sickens me even now to think about it.

The War we are waging against Bush and the Neo-cons, (and make no mistake about it, it is a War), is a difficult one, as all wars are, and there are and will be many casualties. We on the Right side, that is to say, the Left side of the aisle, have suffered a few hard ones, the loss of strong voices like Lurch and Steve Gilliard. What would they have us do? Yet, the Always Wrong Right has suffered too. Many of the frothing Rightwing blogs of yesterday have passed into dust as every one of our predictions has been proven true. Many others have become more moderate. No longer do they troll our sites, baiting, bashing and blasting us at every turn, for at every turn they have been proven wrong, and a person's ego can only stand so much. Even Rightwing mouthpiece Tucker "The Bowtie" Carlson has been knocked from his soapbox at MSNBC thanks to the efforts of Progressive Bloggers

We are winning, friends. The tide is slowly turning. Now is not the time for the timid or weak of heart. Now is the time to turn up the heat, to shine the light of truth into all their dark corners, to show them for what they really are, mindless minions of an Administration so corrupt they make men like John Gotti and Al Capone look like Alter Boys.

To that end, to the restoration of our once great nation to it's former glory, as a leader in the areas of Human Rights, Human Dignity and Freedom and Justice For All, we must "screw our courage to the sticking point" and press on, harder than ever before, with dangerous resolve and deadly purpose. Nothing less than the Freedom of the World hangs in the balance.

Welcome home, scroff and Ruthie.

d.

A Belated Saint Patricks Day

Oglaigh nah Eriann!

For my Mother, Mary Regina Connaughton Markunas...Happy Saint Patrick's Day!



The Wind That Shakes The Barley, Tommy Makem & The Clancy Brothers


The Patriot Game


The Rising of The Moon


The Broad Black Brimmer, The Wolfetones


Remember! One man's Freedom Fighter is another man's terrorist!

The Wee White Turban, Joe Mulheron


The Men Behind The Wire


The Minstrel Boy, Charlie Zahm


Some things are still worth fighting for. Like my Irish ancestors, I too, will be a Minstrel Boy for my country, and fight to take back America from the thieves and liars who have shredded our Constitution and corrupted our beloved United States of America.

Happy Saint Pat's!

d.

Post script: It was July of 1973. My best friend at the time, Brian, a former United States Army Ranger, and an Irish-American, called me to tell me that his Mother had just been arrested. It seems the Police found some M-16's in her basement that were meant to be shipped to the "Boyos" in Belfast and he needed help bailing her out. I grabbed what money I had and picked him up and together we headed for the "Roundhouse", (Police Headquarters and Central Booking here in Philly). When we got there we were informed that his Mom had been picked up by "Federal Authorities" and taken to the Greene Federal Building a few blocks away. So off we went. Let me tell you it was no easy task getting her out. We were interviewed by the FBI and other Government "agents". Both of us were Veterans, so they were very concerned about our "activities" and "affiliations". After 5 or 6 hours of this crap, we were finally able to bail her out, but not without some help from other "friends". It seems our Government likes to pick and choose which organization is comprised of "Freedom Fighters" and which is "terrorist". Needless to say, they didn't regard us as "Freedom Fighters". This has hung over my head ever since and was even mentioned at my trial in 1980. I was to be regarded as a "dangerous person".

All well and good. So be it. According to the Government which I served with Honor, I am a "potential terrorist". I prefer to regard myself as a "Freedom Fighter". What do you think?

As for the Government, well, you can't dictate to me who I can and can't support. Israel would never have come into being without a little "terrorist activity" on the part of the Haganah, Etzel and Lehi. In fact, Israel, our bestest friend in the Middle-east attacked a United States Ship in International waters on June 8, 1967. (See Remember the Liberty.)

The point is simply this: One man's terrorist is another man's Freedom Fighter. If you watched the videos above, it is easy to see that the British treated and in some ways, still treat, the Irish Catholics in Northern Ireland much the same way as we are treating the Iraqi people. The Special Powers Act allowed British authorities to arrest and hold Irish Catholics without charge, without access to legal representation for as long as the Authorities deemed necessary. ( Here and here ) This resulted in the Hunger Strike of 1981, in which MP Bobby Sands and 9 other political prisoners starved to death in protest in the Maze Prison, also known as Long Kesh, in Northern Ireland. Now if supporting the right of a people to free and independent rule makes me a terrorist, well...I dare say that had the concept existed in 1776, Great Britain would have regarded George Washington and the Continental Congress as "terrorists".

The similarities to what has and is happening in Northern Ireland and what is happening right now in Iraq are disturbing, to say the least.

To this day, I continue to support Irish Northern Aid and I will continue to do so regardless of the twits in power here in the United States. Personally, I consider George W. Bush to be the biggest terrorist on the planet.

d.


Support Irish Northern Aid

Kittens

This is the last post I will make and I want it to be joyful. About three months ago Mags rescued two feral kittens from the property she works at. We named them Maggie and Chrisy. they are both little healthy females, and while countless experts have told us that they can't be domesticated, somehow Maggie found a way. She is an incredible woman. As soft as she is hard.

Maggie grew up in the toughest Irish neighborhood in Philly, Kensington, and quickly earned a reputation as someone to respect. The rumor there is that she taught Bernard "The Executioner" Hopkins how to throw the Philly left hook.

Once, when we were playing around, slap-boxing, I accidently caught her with a good one. While I was shocked, she ducked and drove her little left fist into my floating ribs, rapidly, twice, breaking two of them. She didn't realize what she had done, thinking I was faking as I slumped, holding my side in excrutiating pain, so she hit me three more times in rapid succession. Now that's a girl I can love!

Once, when we were in a Puerto Rican bar in Camden, NJ, a major fight broke out. We were there with a friend and she refused to leave. While the entire place was embroiled in a fist flying, bottle-throwing melee, I hustled her out the back door as weapons were being drawn. Drawing my own I headed back in to cover my friend, only to see the Magster flying back in thru the front door, blasting away with her own little pistola! LOL! If ever a chick had balls, she does.

But her other side is as soft as this one is hard. And that is what enabled her, in spite of all odds, to care for these two little lost souls. To shower them with the same love she gives to me. When my daughters asked her what she was doing with a piece of shit like me, she told them she loved me, and she never deserted those she loved. Kinda sounds like a Marine to me.

And so that is where I am going. To my Mags, to our kittens, to our Cappyboo, our 13 year old wonderful one-eyed dog, to Rachel and Pee, our older kitties, to the love that is true and won't desert me.

And to my business. It is high time I stopped waiting for my career to come to me. I must seek it out. There's a lot of schekels to be had in the Movie biz, as well as rewards uncountable in dollars and cents. I have sacrificed my entire life to get where I am and now I have to put the pedal to the metal and let it go.

I still have my "real" family who love me and I am responsible for them and their well-being.

Peace, Love and best wishes to all.

d.

Moneypenny, what gives?

Lois Maxwell

Bond: Moneypenny. What gives?

Moneypenny: Me – given an ounce of encouragement. You never take me to dinner looking like this, James. You never take me to dinner, period.

Bond: I would, you know, only M would have me court-martialled for 'illegal use of government property'.

Moneypenny: Flattery will get you nowhere. But don't stop trying.

At 80 years of age, Lois Maxwell, best known as Miss Moneypenny, has given us all her best.

Good night, Sweetheart.

I always loved you.

James was a fool.

(details)

d.

(Back on "Damages" for a while, catch up later! Yeah, I know, I know...lol)

New Item - Film & TV Credits

The Grand Ballroom from Enchanted, in theaters November 21st - don't miss it!

Four Legends in the Bizniz: deuddersun (aka Snaggle), Ed "Young Ed" Ferarro, Andy "Cowboy" Gangloff, and Glen "The Snake" Pangione

Many of my readers have wondered what kind of films I work on. To satisfy your curiosity I have included a partial credit list in the sidebar, all the way down on the left. The list is partial because it's all I can remember at the moment.

Look for Enchanted to hit theaters November 21st. It is a terrific film in the great Disney tradition and is sure to please both young and old. It's a great movie for kids, (and how many of those are there anymore?).

Now, about the gentlemen shown above. They are all legends. Cowboy has since retired and believe me we miss him sorely. Young Ed is my rabbi and mentor. Together we built OZ in six weeks, soup to nuts. Snake is not only a terrific craftsman and coordinator, but a good friend and hell on a poker table.

Hope you enjoy the list. I'm sure you've seen at least one of the shows listed.

d.

Happy Birthday America!

My Star Spangled Banner




A special Treat - The Silent Drill Platoon



Remember, Honor the Warrior, Not the War



As you enjoy today, remember our Brothers and Sisters who are all Heroes and who are counting on us to be courageous as well, and bring them home safely, now.

d.

Somebody throw me a fish....

Found this over at Kilabe's Hive! A Seal? A Fuckin Seal?

Okay,
sigh,
where's my beach ball...

What should you be in the military? navy seal congrats!! the best job you would do in the military is be a navy seal, navy seals are one of the most elite units in the u.s military, they handle some of the most dangerous situations Click Here to Take This Quiz

Quizzes and Personality Tests

Kilabe is a former Active Duty Marine who joined the Guard after his stint in the Corps. He is now serving in Iraq. (Clear me up if I'm wrong on this Bro...) He 's a good blog buddy from the other side of the aisle, but like Mike The Marine, he put his money where his mouth is so he has my complete and utmost respect.

Don't be shy now, take the test yourself, and stop by Kilabe's Hive and send him some love!

Semper Fidelis!

d.

California Dreamin'

Mamas and Papas Member Dead at 66 - MUSIC - Comcast.net

Mamas and Papas Member Dead at 66
By Associated Press
2 hours ago

MISSISSAUGA, Ont. - Denny Doherty, one-quarter of the 1960s folk-rock group the Mamas and the Papas, known for their soaring harmony on hits like 'California Dreamin'' and 'Monday, Monday,' died Friday at 66."

California Dreamin'...but the Dream wouldn't last. Michelle and John divorced, Cass Elliot died of a heart attack at age 31.

Here's how it all began...



Mama Cass had a beautiful voice, strong and clear and I always said she was the real backbone of the group. As beautiful as Michele Phillips is, I always had a thing for Mama Cass. Her voice touched my soul. Every woman is truly beautiful. She proved it. Listen to her.




I spend six to seven months out of the yar away from home, away from my Mags. I never leave her without asking, Each night before you go to bed My Baby, Whisper a Little prayer for me, My Baby...And tell the stars up above...This is dedicated to the one I love...



And Mags always asks me to "Dream A Little Dream Of Me"...



I believe that we all die twice. Once, when our bodies pass, and again, when the last person who remembers us leaves this earth. And so another small piece of my youth has died, but yet lives on, in my cherished memories and the love I have for my Lady.

Goodnight Denny. Give my best to John and Cass.

d.