Saturday, December 24, 2016

Fw: TheList 4345

The List 4345
To All,
I hope you all have a great Christmas weekend with your families.

This Day In Naval History - December 23

1803: The schooner Enterprise, commanded by Lt. Stephen Decatur, captures the Turkish ketch Mastico with a cargo of female slaves as she is sailing from Tripoli to Constantinople under Turkish colors and without passports. Renamed Intrepid, the former Mastico is taken into U.S. service.

1826 - Captain Thomas ap Catesby Jones of USS Peacock and King Kamehameha negotiate first treaty between Hawaii and a foreign power.

1910 - LT Theodore G. Ellyson becomes first naval officer sent to flight training.

1941 - Gallant defenders of Wake Island (Sailors, Marines, volunteer civilian contractors, and Army Air Force radio detachment) surrender.

. This Day In Naval History - December 24

1814 - Treaty of Ghent ends the War of 1812.

1864 - Naval Forces under Rear Admiral David Dixon Porter with Army forces under Major General Benjamin F. Butler begin unsuccessful two-day attack against Fort Fisher, NC.

1950 - Under cover of naval gunfire support, Task Force 90 completes a 14-day evacuation of 100,000 troops and equipment and 91,000 refugees from Hungnam, North Korea.

This Day In Naval History - December 25

1941 - Admiral Chester W. Nimitz arrives at Pearl Harbor to assume command of U.S. Pacific Fleet.

1986 Voyager completes global flight »


December 23


Lord Lyons, The British minister to America presents a formal complaint to secretary of state, William Seward, regarding the Trent affair.


The Federal Party, which recognizes American sovereignty, is formed in the Philippines.


Great Britain institutes a new constitution for India.


President Warren G. Harding frees Socialist Eugene Debs and 23 other political prisoners.


Pope Pius XI condemns the Nazi sterilization program.


London warns Rome to stop anti-British propaganda in Palestine.


The first Canadian troops arrive in Britain.


Chiang Kai-shek dissolves all Communist associations in China.


Despite throwing back an earlier Japanese amphibious assault, the U.S. Marines and Navy defenders on Wake Island capitulate to a second Japanese invasion.


General Dwight D. Eisenhower confirms the death sentence of Private Eddie Slovik, the only American shot for desertion since the Civil War.


President Harry S Truman grants a pardon to 1,523 who had evaded the World War II draft.


Japan's Prime Minister, Hideki Tojo and six other collaborators are hanged for war crimes.


General Walton H. Walker, the commander of the Eighth Army in Korea, is killed in a jeep accident. Lieutenant General Matthew B. Ridgeway is named his successor.


U.S. Navy SEALs are ambushed during an operation southeast of Saigon.


The B-1 bomber makes its first successful test flight.


The Voyager completes the first nonstop flight around the globe on one load of fuel. The experimental aircraft, piloted by Americans Dick Rutan and Jeana Yeager, landed at Edwards Air Force Base in California after nine days and four minutes in the sky.


In a referendum on Sovlenia's independence from Yugoslovia, 88.5% vote in favor of independence.


An Iraqi MiG-25 shoots down a US MQ-1 Predator drone.



I used to wonder about these wonderful "feel good" stories........I know at one of them was factual.
 I saw this story about the "Big Wheel" in Indiana and it really hit a nerve.......the owner, "granny" was the owner of the big wheel and the mother of my real estate partner. She would visit in San Diego a couple of times a year. This was one of the many stories she would tell us and that was way back in the late 70's. Her name out here was "grand prix granny" because of her speeding habit. This was not the only good deed that came out of that truck stop.

Dave Russell

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave 15 dollars a week to buy groceries.
Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either. If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.
The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed, crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whoever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job. Still no luck.
The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night.
I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal. That night when and the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel.
When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money-fully half of what I averaged every night. As the weeks went by, heating bills added another strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.
One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. I made a deal with the owner of the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would cleanup his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.
I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys' pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.
On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up.
When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and get the presents from the basement and place them under the tree. (We had cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.) It was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car-or was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what.
When I reached the car I peered warily in to one of the side winders. Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was full-full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side door, scrambled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes: There were candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll.
As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning. Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop.


Thanks To Carl for passing this on.

Santa Claus Lives In Your Heart, Not in Washington, D.C.
December 23, 2013
By Don Feder

The Hollis, New Hampshire Primary School has a zero tolerance policy for jolly men in red suits.

On December 19, a man dressed as Santa was almost arrested there. He had the audacity to visit the school, tap on windows, wave to the children and try to enter the building.

The local constabulary was called, parents notified, the school shut down and Superintendent Dr. John Moody pronounced the incident a "serious violation" of the district's "protocol." Dr. Moody is a product of a school of education, where his sense of humor was surgically removed and pomposity implanted in its place.

The investigating officer, who seemed bemused by the uproar, said Santa told police "he was just trying to spread some holiday cheer." (But did he have a permit?) "He just thought it would be a cool holiday thing for the kids to see Santa wave through the window," Lt. Rich Mello explained.

Such is the world we live in that trying to "spread holiday cheer" is suspicious if not threatening. In trying to enter a public school, did Santa attempt to breach the wall of church/state separation? Should Moody have notified the ACLU?

Perhaps the Hollis Santa was one of those potential terrorists of the right that a 2009 Homeland Security report warned us about – returning veterans "with combat skills," gun owners and right to lifers. His color is red, after all.

Old St Nick has taken a few hits this holiday season. Over, Aisha Harris (part of the racial grievance industry) wrote acri de coeur titled "Santa Claus Should Not Be a White Man Anymore." Never mind that St. Nicholas, the third century monk who was the source of the legend, was white – as was every visual representation of him over the past 150 years.

History is so insensitive. Why can't Santa be a Polynesian surfer anyway?

"America is less and less white, but a melanin-deficient Santa remains the default in commercials, mall casting calls, and movies,"Slate's "cultural blogger" kvetches. Apparently, the classic depiction of Santa Claus as an old, white dude causes "insecurity and shame" among "millions of nonwhite kids." Someone should take away Harris's laptop, before she hurts herself with it.

As an antidote to yuletide insensitivity, Harris wants to replace the fat, old, honky with – I kid you not – a penguin. "People love penguins. There are blogs dedicated entirely to their cuteness," Harris breathlessly informs us. Best of all, no one need feel excluded – except, perhaps, the walruses and polar bears.

The absurdity of replacing Santa Claus with a flightless bird aside, the obsession with inclusion never takes a holiday. Besides non-whites, the classic representation of Santa Claus as a fat, jolly, old man excludes women, the young, the slim and the cranky. Imagine the "insecurity and shame" that millions of the dour, morose and grumpy are forced to endure by Santa's incessant ho-ho-ho-ing.

Despite the magical story (filled with candy canes, snowflakes and tinsel) told by generations of loving parents, Santa is incorporeal.

He represents the impulse to help others (whether their suffering is material or psychological) – to put a smile on a child's face or show the old and destitute that someone cares. Compassion doesn't have a race. Benevolence comes in every color imaginable.

My favorite Christmas story is "The Night of The Meek," an episode of the old Twilight Zone series. Art Carney plays a department store Santa who's just been fired for coming to work drunk.

Carney spends much of his days in an alcoholic haze. He drinks to dull the pain.

As he puts it, he lives in a "dirty rooming house on a street filled with hungry kids and shabby people." As he sits on a curb, in his rented costume, he's approached by a pair of urchins who plead with Santa for presents, a Christmas dinner and a job for their father. His heart overflowing, Carney hugs the children as he sobs.

Later, to the tinkling of bells, this man on the edge of despair finds a burlap sack that seems to be filled with garbage in an alley. Except whatever anyone asks for, Carney can pull out of the bag. After spreading joy to all and sundry, the sack is empty.

A friend comments that Carney has "taken nothing for yourself, not a thing!" The Skid Row Santa replies that all he wants is to continue doing this every year. The conclusion finds him back in the alley. Bells ring again, a sleigh and reindeer appear, an elf says "We've been waiting for you Santa," and Carney is whisked away to the North Pole, his wish granted.

This is the essence of Santa Claus, why he appeals so strongly to our nature – young and old, rich and poor, whatever our race or creed. Santa is a response to human want and suffering, given with an open hand and a glad heart.

The need to give – to share – is universal and intrinsic to the human condition. If the spirit doesn't expand through acts of generosity, it contracts, until all that's left is a tight, hard ball of loneliness and despair.

That's the real message of "A Christmas Carol." More than any other, Scrooge was the victim of his miserliness. Hence the response of Nephew Fred to the old man's "bah humbug," "I feel sorry for you, Uncle."

Capra's "It's A Wonderful Life" is Dickens' tale in reverse. Instead of ghosts showing Scrooge how avarice ruined his life, George Bailey gets to see how grim Bedford Falls would be if he'd never been born – a town not shaped by his sacrifice and innate decency, left to the mercies of the Henry Potters of the world.

It's great for kids to believe in the toy shop at the North Pole, flying reindeer, and a man who loves so much that he gives gifts to children everywhere. But, ultimately, Santa Claus lives in your heart

Santa is within us. He does not reside in our nation's capital.

I suppose it's a natural mistake to make, confusing Santa Claus and Uncle Sam. Both are elderly gents – Caucasian, to be sure – with white beards. (Imagine the psychic pain and trauma this causes to millions of nonwhite children.) Both wear a costume. Coincidentally, both were popularized in their current guise by 19th century illustrator Thomas Nast.

Too many of my fellow Americans believe in Obama Claus – the smug community-organizer elf who stuffs stockings with Obama-phones, food stamps, extended unemployment benefits, health insurance for "30 million uninsured" and other welfare state goodies.

But does Santa steal to pay for the presents he leaves? Does he pick the pockets of parents to buy toys for kids? Does he spy, harass, lie and intimidate? Does he monetize the debt by inflating the currency? Is his sleigh loaded with 7% unemployment, growing dependency, and fatherless families? Does he promote poverty, which increased 16.7% under Obama?

Does Santa vacation at posh Martha's Vineyard digs, spend more time on the links than in the workshop, and then lecture us on our obligation to the less-fortunate?

Where do the presents in Obama Claus's bag come from? Do elves in the North Pole make them, or are they extracted from the peasantry? Are the "rich" the reindeer harnessed to this Santa's sleigh? With the energy expended in pulling it, is there any left over for creating wealth and generating jobs?

The spirit of human kindness does not drive us to larceny, regimentation and destruction of the economy.

Symbols are important – cupid for love, the flag for loyalty – though the virtues they represent exist independently.

It's nice to have a merry old fellow with a twinkle in his eye to personify kindness and the urge to give – especially at a time of the year that represents sharing for so many. The warmth of the ideal penetrates even the cold and dark of the season.

Newspaperman Francis Pharcellus Church had it right in an 1897 editorial answer to little Virginia O'Hanlon. "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He lives as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist."

He lives in all of us, if we connect with him. When you put change in a Salvation Army kettle, when you donate to a food bank, when you volunteer for a charity, when you spend time with a child, when you try to sooth a troubled spirit, when you reach out to a stranger – you are Santa Claus.

This Santa can do anything – even overcome bureaucratic inanity, racial grievances and politically correct penguins.


Thanks to Carl

Here's What Losing Sleep Does to Your Heart
December 22, 2016

Story at-a-glance

Significant heart strain, a precursor to heart problems, was noted following sleep deprivation in emergency medical workers
Other concerning changes, including an increase in blood pressure, heart rate and thyroid hormones, which is indicative of a stress response, were also noted following lack of sleep
People who sleep less than 7 hours a night have an increased risk of heart disease, and this is true regardless of other factors that influence heart health, like age, weight, smoking and exercise habits


New Study Reveals Harmful Effects of Dim Light Exposure During Sleep

December 22, 2016

Story at-a-glance

Exposure to very dim light during sleep — even if it does not noticeably impair your sleep — may affect your brain function and cognition during the day

Sleeping under 10 lux light conditions decreased activation in a brain region involved in response inhibition, attentional control and the detection of relevant cues when performing a task the following day

Animal research found that nighttime exposure to 5 lux for three weeks in a row produced depression-like symptoms and impaired cognition


Most of you recently attended one or more holiday parties on our street. Fortunately, I had learned of the following tips a few years ago and I am fairly proud that I observed everyone. However, I respectfully suggest that some of you re read these tips as you may have opportunity to attend one or more social gatherings this season. Without naming names, I think we all know who needs to be reminded of these tips.

Allen Rachel


1. Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the holiday spirit. In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.

2. Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. It's rare... You cannot find it any other time of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has 10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-alcoholic or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!

3. If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

4. As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.

5. Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Holiday party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello?

6. Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.

7. If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.

8. Same for pies. Apple, Pumpkin, Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?

9. Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards.

10. One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Re-read tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner. Remember this motto to live by:

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate and wine in one hand, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"


Have a great holiday season!!

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