Subject:  See Captain Harrison at the Pioneer Village, Grove City, Ohio, on Saturday, April 28! |
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Fan of Leon The Man
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Date Posted: 21:38:37 04/03/07 Tue
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EKMBBC Captain Leon Harrison, G.C.M.
EKM Buckeye Bureau, West Carrollton, Ohio
Tuesday, April 3, 2007, 7:07 p.m.
It rains this evening, my windows open to let the breeze in, a gray overcast sky with new bright fresh green clean leaves budding on branches of trees, as seen out my window. BBC-TV World news is on now: British sailor and marine captives are still held by Iranians. Lord Nelson, General Wellington, and Winston Churchill curse and weep with frustration and the humiliation of that once-great once-powerful nation. The Iraq war and Islamaniac-fanatic/mean-macho-Muslim-male bombings and shootings continue, too. Robert Mugabe holds onto power in Zimbabwe, for over 20 or so years, I fear. It's been 25 years since the end of that short Falklands war! I was on a Caribbean sea cruise between New York City, Bermuda and the Bahamas/Nassau, a seven-day triangle course with smooth sailing. Bermuda was better off than the Bahamas, being a British colony like the Falkland Islands. Today, my writing time was wasted by hedge trimming and dandelion shooting. Yesterday [Mon. 4-2], was my first lawn mow of the year, followed by Luther MaGill and I driving to the Moron City Awful House for fine dining, before going to see "SHOOTER" at a matinee picture show. This movie had some social and political [liberal Hollyweirdo agenda] significance, with a lot of killin' but not enough smoochin' to go with all of that stabbin' and shootin'; a young blonde babe and dark-skinned FBI agent wasted, though the former showed us men some skin with her firm fresh female flesh. Yeah, Muslims will not have fun with this one, though it does show us how rotten we are. Only reenactors, if not reenactresses, can understand the rational, reasonable logical necessity of why a guy would spend $610 on a single-shot big-bore black-powder Springfield-reproduction rifle, instead of spending $519 for a Beretta M-9 [US military] 14-shot 9mm semi-automatic pistol with two magazines, if you know what I mean. Last week, Luther and I attended the annual Dayton Auto Show at the Dayton Convention Center, where we looked around at all of these nice new vehicles and took a few pictures, posing with one lovely blonde [friendly female] product representative, just for fun. She was nice and smiled. Some of these other passionless fashion models, uh...product representatives were suspicious and not as friendly, even after I showed them this classic collector's-issue February, East Kentucky Magazine, offering them their romantic chance to make the big time! I told one to call her agent and tell him about this opportunity she was missing, even without the kissing. They didn't seem to be excited or thrilled, or trust me much, and wouldn't even pose for centerfold photos. Hhhmmm...since they and a few nice-priced convertible-topped cars were on display, I wonder if they might be trying to entice these middle-aged guys to buy these expensive vehicles, these guys fantasizing about driving around the country and town with them or similarly-skinny [but friendly] sexy women sitting beside them and smiling? Yeah, if sex and sexy don't sell, why can't I be paid to display my body and brains while posing and performing in underwear and swimsuits too? NO! Paul, maybe we had better forget this! Just edit it out. Or...maybe... Stop me if you've heard this before. I wonder if some other, more dishonest, guys have tried to get them to pose, with our without clothes? I need a new Chevrolet HHR, a car/truck that is just big enough to carry my reenacting stuff, without scraping my one-small-car garage door. I want a Buick LaCross. My dear mother [or "The Queen Mama", as Taulbee calls her] don't like it much when I refer to her fine '99 LeSaybro as a "BYOOOK!" I had rather chase Caudill Confederates, and similar riffraff-rebel-rabble, through Pound Gap in August than do yard work and hard work! It is a fact that I had rather reenact, and shoot at retreating running rebels with my Remington, rather than shooting at dandelions, as I did today. If you have dandelions, you get the evil eye from the neighbors on Upland Drive. Dandelions are like Caudill Confederates! No matter how many you shoot, they keep coming back [to Leatherwood] year after year! Hey, I figure that if a man was to clean his bathroom and trim his hedge at least once each year, it would be easier the next time he did it. There is no point in vacuuming carpeting unless you move the furniture out of the way. This morning, I made the mistake of opening my east-facing bedroom window, the bright morning sunlight slanting directly toward the floor of my bedroom closet, exposing and showing much dust, much to my dismay and disgust. I ignored it and did not explore it or sweep it away...today. I have been retired since February first, now over two months ago, like ya know. I realize that I need regular exercise [especially when I mowed the landscaped grounds around the Buckeye Bureau, yesterday], in addition to my walking across parking lots and lifting cups of caffeine. Yeah, hard work and yard work, including painting and cleaning and vacuuming could and would be a great way to stay in shape. You know that you are a reenactor, when you fantasize about the sight of a big healthy gingham-dressed woman doing your hard work and yard work, boring domestic chores and trivial tasks that take and waste your reenacting and writing time. Yeah, there is no need [point or purpose] to boohoo, sue or whine. I know that our regular EKM readers think that all is fame, fun and glamour with travel here, I fear. I regret that we do not have a corporate jet...yet. It is a pity, but instead of returning to Las Vegas or even Atlantic City, I settled for buying a Mega Millions lottery ticket and then driving to Germantown, Ohio, like ya know. It don't get much better [or cheaper] than this, even without finding a friendly female to kiss...at Katy's Kitchen, where the food is good and their ain't no bitchin'. Well, it rhymes and I won't mention those old coffee bum and village-people guys, who have much to discuss without gossip. After this fine dining, I went to Germantown Dam and entered the Metro Park there, parking my car and picking my spot at a wooden picnic table, setting up with my stuff: good book, newspapers, radio, binoculars, camera and soda pop; switching between reading and listening to talk-radio shows, getting up to walk and then drive around, taking some pictures by Twin Creek, downstream from the spillway. Then, back to Germantown Park, walking around and looking at a few of the local folks, boys playing basketball and a mother with young son and daughter, taking pictures of the old green wooden railway depot that had been relocated to the park, with an old red caboose nearby, the white-painted gazebo between them. There was a flagpole with a stone war memorial, the names of local men who had been KIA engraved upon a big brass placard that had been bolted to the stone. Nice grass and trees. The old toll-road cabin was next to the swimming pool that won't open until Memorial Day, as is tradition. There are swings similar stuff for the kids, next to a nice big shelter for activities and events. Germantown, the heart of middle America, a home to nice normal folks, old fashioned without many problems or much fashion or passion, at least for me. Finally, I drove to the old covered wooden bridge, that had likewise been relocated, to be set up across Twin Creek on a small blocked-off neighborhood street. Three old-fashioned wood-slat benches had likewise been placed upon the floor boards, where one could sit and just watch the creek and the trees and the birds, muted distant sounds of traffic from the newer bridges located on either side. Kids walked across the bridge from school, a couple of boys riding an ATV upstream in the shallow creek bed, having fun making noise and spraying brown water, disappearing into the distance and around a bend. It don't get much better [or cheaper] than this. Well, back on the road alone, to and through Miamisburg and onto West Carrollton via "Old 25", the Dixie Highway, ending up at the Buckeye Bureau. Well, time to spell-check and maybe even edit, this being sent with digital images. April is my favorite month of the year, so green and clean and cool without bugs, despite these damned annual allergies that make me keep sneezing...AHHCHHOO! This afternoon, I finished reading "Faded Coat of Blue", and then ordered a used-book sequel to it online. It is dark out now as I listen to the rain pattering upon the tin of my patio roof out back, my windows open to let the air and sounds inside, my TV now turned off. I have decided to attend the annual [Saturday, April 28] Grove City/Pioneer Village history event at that old log cabin and church, as Major Cornett, Doctor McMahon and I had done for fun last year. David will be there with his great medical display and demonstration. As usual, Major Cornett and I will be recruiting for the Harlan County Battalion [and Leatherwood '07] without pestering people , just to give those Caudill Confederates some more Union troops to reenact with, at the end of October or the beginning of November. I shall pose and perform as a buck sergeant, because I will need to drill with these first-class hardcore education and demonstration troops who will likewise attend this annual event, not a reenactment with action, and marching, maneuvering, shooting and sweating. I might have fun letting young'uns and visitors shoot some of my guns, regardless of the risks of injuries and lawsuits. This time, I shall also have a Springfield rifle with a bayonet, so they don't have to loan me one to join in with them for that rifle-stacking fun. I also wonder if that skinny little blonde beauty will be there, doing her friendly freelance journalistic duty for that local little weekly newspaper? I sent them a couple of copies of her centerfold issue, smiling and posing with an East Kentucky Magazine, and with Sgt. Harrison and Governor Dennison, at this enjoyable Pioneer Village event. AAAHHHCHHHOOO! I'm running out of handkerchiefs! The rain has stopped. I hear a distant freight train, rumbling along the tracks through town, downhill below Maple Hill Mountain [okay, an Ohio hill]. I have to turn on my stereo to listen to Michael Savage's talk-radio show. No, I shall not wait for a day until I send this away, with or without proper punctuation and paragraphs. Yeah, I know: typos and mistakes will hit me right between the eyes, as usual, as soon as I print this on paper and look at it tomorrow morning. Yeah, I have read thousands of articles and viewed and listened to thousands of radio and TV shows, produced, published and written by thousands of people who have attempted to give me FREE wise advice...most of which I have ignored, especially when I was younger and dumber. Oh, well, reenacting will be my exercise and festival food will be my diet. Had enough? Let's finish this at 9:15 p.m.
EKMBBC Captain Leon Harrison, G.C.M.
EKM Buckeye Bureau
West Carrollton, Ohio
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