<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665</id><updated>2011-11-05T06:25:34.525-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Norms Chat Box</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-7963355257276709082</id><published>2011-10-10T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-10T12:44:21.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Please Hire Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I see a lot of people complaining about being unemployed formonths and years. One lady said recently they would not hire her because shehad not worked within the last six months. Although she had eight years ofsolid experience she had not worked within the last six months. I guess I amlucky in some ways; I have no college diploma and have always been employed. Ihave never made over fifty thousand dollars a year. The combination of a militarypension and two jobs brought me close to fifty thousand dollars for a couple ofyears. I have never had anyone to pay my way and no savings to live on. I couldnever wait around for the job I used to have that paid me the wage I was usedto making. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I have applied for dozens of jobs that I have not obtained.Employers can use any excuse within the law not to hire you. We all know lifeis not fair; not in the employment arena, not in the work place, in school, orour daily lives. Why should we expect anything more? But we can be fair toourselves by getting out and going to work. At least we are out in the worldexposing ourselves to people and opportunities around us. I never had one good opportunityknock on my front door and say follow me. If I am out in the world I can tellpeopleI meet what my skills are and what I am looking for in the line ofemployment.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;You know the folks down at the unemployment office know whatyou are looking for. How has that helped you? Are you working? No one is goingto work harder to help you than you. So what if you have to work for a wageless than what you desire. At least you are making a living while looking forthe job of your dreams. Until next time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Norm&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-7963355257276709082?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/7963355257276709082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=7963355257276709082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/7963355257276709082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/7963355257276709082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2011/10/please-hire-me.html' title='Please Hire Me'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-5595147750453465985</id><published>2011-10-06T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-06T19:21:02.389-07:00</updated><title type='text'>War Not Worth It</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.5in; text-justify: inter-ideograph;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; “Many U.S. veterans say Iraq, Afghan warsnot worth it”~ Yahoo News. The problem with war is the road is not clear. Thereis always a cloud of suspicion about why a country wages war. Politicians throwout a lot of misinformation to confuse their citizens. After participating inthe Persian Gulf War, I can say also it was not worth it. Not one servicemember I served with looked forward to going, but not one of us refused toserve. The problem I have with war is the cost in lives. The innocent men,women and children that are killed for a cause that is not clear. You might saythe people of a country are not innocent. Ask yourself, if war was waged herewithout you wanting it are you guilty or innocent? The price we pay for war; inmental, emotional, and physical pain as well as tax dollars spent and liveslost makes no sense to me. Until next time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Norm&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-5595147750453465985?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/5595147750453465985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=5595147750453465985' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/5595147750453465985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/5595147750453465985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2011/10/war-not-worth-it.html' title='War Not Worth It'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-2184353913974017973</id><published>2011-10-03T03:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T03:26:18.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Just Did Not Get It</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I don’t understand what happened, I guess, I just did notget it. After graduating from high school I had a hard time finding a good job.The jobs I worked at were dead end jobs that paid little and supplied lots ofgrief. The boss normally was impatient and demanded more than he reallydeserved for the money he paid me. There was no pleasing the boss no matterwhat you did. He was not going to fire me because he would have to hire anotherperson just like me. So I went from dead end job to dead end job with the sametype of boss. I eventually joined the United States Air Force, but that isanother story.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I did not want to go to college, I already had enoughschooling to last me a long time. Unbeknown to me there were opportunities allaround me; Vocational schools I could have attended to teach me a trade, Gascompanies, Electrical companies, and Factories, to name a few. If I would havejoined a local church or some of the other organizations in our community theirmembers would have helped me sort things out. When my friends were given helpby their families to gain employment, I was told not to even think about it. Ifwe all had a job at the same place I would mess it up somehow for all of us.Out of desperation I joined the military.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I guess what I am trying to say is help your children sortthings out and get on the right track. Get involved in your community for yourchildren’s sake; there are people that can help them. Find out whatopportunities are available in your surrounding area to help your children.Forget about yourself for a while and support not only your children butneighborhood children as well. You know who needs help. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Don’t make excuses about the economy or the government. Wedo not live in a perfect world; the problems we face today are not muchdifferent than what our parents or grandparents faced years ago. We are theonly ones that are going to make life better for our families, community, andworld. Until next time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Norm&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-2184353913974017973?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/2184353913974017973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=2184353913974017973' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2184353913974017973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2184353913974017973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-just-did-not-get-it.html' title='I Just Did Not Get It'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-5860122284750861242</id><published>2011-10-01T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T06:36:53.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Respectable</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;There was a man who thought to himself, I am a good man. Howcan this be? He polled his friends to see if they agreed with his observation.They not only agreed but also realized they were respectable also. They askedeach other how this could be. Together they decided they were not born thisway. If a man is not born virtuous then how does he become what he is not?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;There was a Sage that lived down in the valley. He was knownfar and wide for his wisdom. The man and his friends traveled down the valleyto ask the wise man about goodness in mankind. The sage told them that not allmankind are upright in their ways. If this is so they asked, then why are somemen good and some unjust. The wise man answered their question with a question.What are your daily practices? Immediately they understood why they were good.Their parents taught them by example and instilled in them righteous habits.They realized men do not wake up one morning and become upright or respectable.Being respectable is an ongoing lifetime process. Take the hill, becomerespectable! Until next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Norm&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-5860122284750861242?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/5860122284750861242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=5860122284750861242' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/5860122284750861242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/5860122284750861242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2011/10/respectable.html' title='Respectable'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-1827523488739851943</id><published>2011-09-30T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T09:03:56.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Self Improvement</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;A person should ask him or herself what it is they want toimprove. Is it wealth, health, employment, or something else? After givingthese things considerable thought, I felt I should improve myself first. I needto know me, who I really am and how I feel about important things in my life;How do I want to appear to others around me, What are my thoughts ongovernment, the church, and my family. What values do I really want to adopt asmy own? We as humans have the ability to make decisions on how we want to think,speak, and act. We have the ability to change our character at any time. If I’mnot happy with what I see in myself I can re-create me. Maybe if I change me,all the other things will fall into place. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Sometimes the question “What is wrong with me”could be a fair question to ask yourself. To examine one-self might be toimprove one’s self.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;“I am not who I think I am, I am not what youthink I am, But I am what I think, you think I am”~ Robert Harold Schuller. Thequote above by Reverend Schuller really had an impact on me years ago.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;I never thought about why I acted this orthat way at any given time. I am like a leaf in the wind; I can be anything theworld wants me to be. “If you want me to be Satan I can, if you want me to beJesus Christ I can”~ Charles Manson. Call Charles Manson what you want, but don’tcall him stupid. There is a lot of truth to his words. You have the power to beanything you want to be. How will you use it? Until next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Calibri;"&gt;Norm&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-1827523488739851943?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/1827523488739851943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=1827523488739851943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1827523488739851943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1827523488739851943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2011/09/self-improvement.html' title='Self Improvement'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-6209488152237236455</id><published>2011-09-29T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T09:47:43.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Comments please</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: auto; mso-pagination: widow-orphan; punctuation-wrap: hanging;"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt;"&gt;On the Yahoo News pages, there is a place to sendin your comments on the subject matter. I love to read what my fellow readerswrite and send in. A certain percentage cannot spell which really cracks me up.These people are calling other people stupid and much worse, but cannot spellthe words they are using to describe what they are trying to say. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;Another percentage believes it is all one-sided and refuses to place equal responsibility on both sides. When it comes toother countries most of us never take the time to really explore why they actand think the way they do. Of course you always have the prejudice card thrownin along the way. If you want to see how uneducated, uninformed, and narrowminded America really is, please read the comment section under the Yahoo newspages. I hope this is not an accurate sample of the American mentality. If itis, America is failing its children miserably. Until next time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; mso-font-kerning: 0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-font-kerning: 0pt;"&gt;Norm&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-6209488152237236455?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6209488152237236455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=6209488152237236455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6209488152237236455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6209488152237236455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2011/09/comments-please.html' title='Comments please'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-1650365608640169502</id><published>2011-09-21T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T16:14:11.012-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There is a Spider</title><content type='html'>This morning my wife said “there is a spider, I wonder if it bites”? I said I do not know, but maybe you should kill it just in case it might. Now I do not like killing, as a rule I do not kill anything. This morning after my wife killed the spider I thought to myself, how would I feel if someone said “there is a Norm, I wonder if he bites”? We should probably kill him just because he might. If you do not believe we live in a violent world, pay attention to your thoughts next time you see a spider, fly or any type of bug. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-1650365608640169502?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/1650365608640169502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=1650365608640169502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1650365608640169502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1650365608640169502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2011/09/there-is-spider.html' title='There is a Spider'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-1985353104550430933</id><published>2011-01-05T15:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T15:51:14.211-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Cut Some Hair</title><content type='html'>I got up this morning and when I looked in the bathroom mirror, I decided I needed a haircut. I got my mustache trimmer out and went to work. I trimmed the hair on the right side of my head and my trimmer went dead. Yep it is battery operated. My wife said, “Why don’t you just go spend ten bucks and get a hair cut?” I told her I could do it myself. I went and got the scissors out of the drawer in the china cabinet and went back to work. This time I trimmed the hair on the left side of my head. Well I took off too much and thought I had better quit. It does not look too bad if you do not look too close.&lt;br /&gt; This is not the first time I thought I could cut hair. When our son Jeff was four years old, I cut his hair. No matter how you looked at his hair, it looked awful. I broke down and took him too the barbershop. I was wondering what I was going to tell the barber when we got there. I had thoughts of telling Jeff to tell the barber his mother did it. I knew if I told him that he would tell the barber I cut his hair. We all know little kids are painfully honest and I did not want him to tell I cut his hair. Anyway, we went into the barbershop and set down. We sit there a little while and they called Jeff to get his haircut. The first thing the barber asked was who cut this kids hair. Jeff must not have been paying attention because I said his mother cut his hair and Jeff never said a word.  As we left the barbershop, the barber told me to keep his mother away from his hair. So I am pretty much thinking I might be able to point the finger at you know who when I go to get my next haircut. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-1985353104550430933?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/1985353104550430933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=1985353104550430933' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1985353104550430933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1985353104550430933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2011/01/lets-cut-some-hair.html' title='Let&apos;s Cut Some Hair'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-8659577691827946751</id><published>2011-01-04T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T14:07:40.119-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Raisins</title><content type='html'>Marie told me she had to stay out of the candy. Marie is my wife if you do not know it. I told her she would not eat anything good for her like raisins. She asked, “Have you ever read the nutrition facts on raisins? “ There were two boxes of raisins setting on our coffee table so I picked up a box and took a look at it. Right away, I lied to her about the nutritional facts on the side of the box. I told her total fat, sodium, total carb, fiber, sugars, and protein was all zero. I asked, “Do you believe that?” She said “no.”  I then told her total fat was 0 gram, sodium 10 mg, total carb 33g, fiber 2g, sugars 30g, and protein 1g.  Marie asked me “do you like raisins?” I said “not especially.” Then a thought come to me. I told her when I was a kid mom kept a box of raisins in the cupboard. When there was no candy in the house, I would get into the raisins and eat them. My next thought was my father would have had a fit if he knew I had my grubby little hands in the raisins.&lt;br /&gt;Until next time &lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-8659577691827946751?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/8659577691827946751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=8659577691827946751' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/8659577691827946751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/8659577691827946751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2011/01/raisins.html' title='Raisins'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-503204817410812278</id><published>2010-02-24T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T09:40:18.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Beebe Gun</title><content type='html'>Our Grandson got a Beebe Gun for Christmas. I asked his mother if he was using it. His mother said he could hardly lift it. I remember getting a Beebe gun when I was four years old. The first thing my father told me was not to shoot the hubcaps on our car. &lt;br /&gt;I had to turn the rifle up side down to cock the lever in order to ready it for firing. Once it was ready to shoot, I could barely lift and aim it at a target. However, I could certainly hit them hubcaps my father told me not to shoot.  The rifle was taken from me for a month.&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I got to town, I always bought more Beebe’s for my rifle. They cost a dime when I was a boy. They come in a round tube. Sometimes, you would have to pinch the sides of the tube to release the Beebe’s, other times the tubes had a cap you took off. &lt;br /&gt;All stationary objects were fair game and most moving objects also; Birds, fence posts, electric transformers, the barn, and did I mention hub caps?&lt;br /&gt;My brother once shot an up stairs window out trying to knock an Icicle off the house. He also shot a friend in the hand because he asked him to do it. The friend put the palm of his hand on the end of the barrel and told my brother to pull the trigger on the rifle.&lt;br /&gt;This friend was a couple of years older than and us. He went to the house wining like a little girl. My brother was in trouble until our friend went home and then we all had a good laugh about it. &lt;br /&gt;Our father taught us fire gun safety with our Beebe guns. We would all go hunting and he would show us the proper way to handle our weapons while in a group.  There was no way Dad was going to have an accident with a firearm in the years to come.&lt;br /&gt;I killed many a bad person with my Beebe gun and spent many years enjoying it. I do not know what happened to it. As real weapons took its place, I lost track of it. It will always be in my heart. &lt;br /&gt;I took a friend of mine to where I grew up. The first thing I told him was the area was safe. I killed all the bad people in the area while I was growing up. If you ever get up Michigan way, the northern Lower Peninsula, enjoy yourself it is safe.  Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-503204817410812278?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/503204817410812278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=503204817410812278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/503204817410812278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/503204817410812278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2010/02/beebe-gun.html' title='Beebe Gun'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-2194931781056984580</id><published>2010-02-10T08:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T08:22:03.099-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meetings</title><content type='html'>I hate meetings and for a good reason, they are a waste of time. Someone runs the meeting, talking about a subject no one cares about, that everyone has to attend. Everyone means you and I. Usually at the end of the meeting the speaker asks if there are any questions. Of course, the same people ask questions every time. I wonder why the same people always ask the questions. &lt;br /&gt;I have attended hundreds of meeting in my life. I have studied various management techniques. I have probably worked for people that have used most of the techniques that I have studied. I can honestly say that most of the meetings I have been involved in have been counter-productive.&lt;br /&gt;I feel that if a meeting is more than fifteen minutes long it is a waste of time. If the objective is to drain the swamp then lets talk about ways to drain the swamp.  If at the end of the allotted time, we have not found a solution then lets adjourn and meet again. We can always brainstorm on our own and send our ideas forward to the boss. Eventually we will figure out how to drain the swamp.&lt;br /&gt;I do not relish the idea of spending an hour or two with people I do not really like. We have very little in common and I do not agree with what they are saying in the first place. Most of them would not be invited to the meeting, if it were my choice. Do not even think you are hurting my feelings by not inviting me. Make my day PLEASE.&lt;br /&gt;The best meetings I ever attended were while I was in the Military. I worked for a Major in a combat unit. When he called a meeting, we met in a room with one long table and one chair.  The Major sat in the chair and we stood around the table. The Major started on his left and went around the table. We all had our say and everything was resolved in a five-minute timetable. If you told the Major you would take care of something, you had better follow through. If you needed further assistance, you just let the Major know. He did not waste his time or ours on petty details that meant nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Are there any questions? Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-2194931781056984580?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/2194931781056984580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=2194931781056984580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2194931781056984580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2194931781056984580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2010/02/meetings.html' title='Meetings'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-6193368980906326902</id><published>2010-02-06T15:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T15:15:50.942-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lets Eat</title><content type='html'>Some of the best food I have ever eaten is simple dishes. I cannot tell you that I have eaten the best foods the world has to offer. I have never eaten Escargot or any other fancy food like Alligator, or Crocodile. You get the picture.&lt;br /&gt;I can tell you I have whipped up some macaroni and milk. Throw in a little butter, salt and pepper and you have a meal fit for a King. Sometimes we fix beef stew with noodles or rice as a side dish. &lt;br /&gt;My mother used to fry bread dough and butter it. Oh what a treat, us children thought it was a holiday or something. Sometimes I make my own soup. I get in the cupboard and throw everything I can find in the pan. My wife calls it something she will never taste. She also tells me to keep it away from her.&lt;br /&gt;Some of the best meals we have eaten consisted of left over meat and boiled potatoes. It does not really matter what the meat is any kind will work. Fry it all up, salt and pepper it, throw on the Ketchup or Catsup what ever you prefer. Set down and feast. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we have breakfast for dinner. I know people do this. I know my family members young and old have done it their whole lives. I bet you know someone that does it too.&lt;br /&gt;We have some left over hotdogs in the refrigerator. I am thinking about hotdogs, Chili, and eggs for dinner tonight.&lt;br /&gt;Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-6193368980906326902?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6193368980906326902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=6193368980906326902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6193368980906326902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6193368980906326902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2010/02/lets-eat.html' title='Lets Eat'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-6346306249552467659</id><published>2010-02-05T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T11:02:06.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Formula</title><content type='html'>One of our local News networks ran a special on Baby Formula. It seems through investigating they discovered formula that had expired on some store shelves. Seven out of eleven stores had expired formula on their shelves. Some of the stores were major chains that have been around for years. According to the network, Federal Drug Association regulations are more stringent concerning Baby formula.  Due to this investigation, the stores said they would retrain personal and take other steps to safe guard Baby Formula. &lt;br /&gt;I doubt very much if these stores meant for food to be expired on their shelves. Let us face it; it does not make for good business. The Public has a trust in these enterprises that they are not deliberately harming us. It would not hurt you and me to check the expiration date on the goods we buy now and again. I still have faith in our local Merchants to do the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;Now that being said, let me tell you about my experience as a stock boy at a grocery store. I decided when I was around fifty years old that I just might want to work in a grocery store. I was hired to stock the shelves. &lt;br /&gt;My job was to move the entire product from the back of the shelf and put the new product behind. This is a simple task says you. Not really.&lt;br /&gt; We would go into the storeroom and load our dollies with boxes of product. After we loaded, we went to the aisles and began to stock product on the shelves.  The product on our dollies would be spread throughout the store. There was no rhyme or reason in the storeroom.  This caused us to run all over the store-stocking product. In-addition we were constantly called up front to bag groceries, carryout for our customers, or gather grocery carts. Most days we were moved from one department to another because of absenteeism.  &lt;br /&gt;Management thought we were a band of thieves. We received calls anytime during the day or night while at home wanting us to come to work. I once was called to work at eight P.M. to mop the floor because the manager did not want to do the mopping. The girls on the registers were supposed to be off the floor in time to count their money and be out the door at the end of eight hours. This rarely happened because hourly employees were not important. If we wanted a day off, we had to beg and bribe one of our co-workers to fill in for us. Management would not find someone to fill in for us. The whole environment led to bad attitudes by employees. &lt;br /&gt;Now lets recap; Storeroom unorganized, Stockers run all over the store stocking shelves, Stockers constantly pulled away for other tasks, stockers switched from one department to another, hourly employee’s not trusted,  Employee’s personal time not important, and management would not work with employee’s on scheduling days off. I wonder why product is out dated on the shelves.&lt;br /&gt;I hope my experience was an extreme case. The store I worked for shut the doors with no notice and left it employee is hanging. In my opinion, the owners should have been Tarred and Feathered and run out of town. Their closing did not hurt me, but it hurt others.&lt;br /&gt;There are plenty of reasons why product expires on the shelf. The above are just some. We could do ourselves and local business’s a favor by checking the expiration date every occasionally. If we find something wrong, we could point it out.  Not to cause problems but to help protect ourselves as well as our neighbors. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-6346306249552467659?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6346306249552467659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=6346306249552467659' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6346306249552467659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6346306249552467659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2010/02/baby-formula.html' title='Baby Formula'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-5291891381076975945</id><published>2010-02-03T08:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T08:17:58.999-08:00</updated><title type='text'>J.D. Salinger</title><content type='html'>J.D. Salinger passed away this week and there is a lot of speculation about what is in his closet. I found the following in the Yahoo News on the Internet and I quote "There is a marvelous peace in not publishing," J.D. Salinger told The New York Times in 1974. "Publishing is a terrible invasion of my privacy. I like to write. I love to write. But I write just for myself and my own pleasure." Let us check not only his closet but his Trouser pockets and his Wallet also. Let us discover what he never wanted us to see and steal it in the process.&lt;br /&gt;I do not really know what his reasons were for moving to Cornish, N.H. and refusing to be published. It could be the people he was dealing with could not write a single line themselves but insisted on telling him how to write. Maybe they wanted too much information on his personal life. I guess we will never know.&lt;br /&gt;I have never read Catcher in the Rye and doubt I ever will. Oh yes I have it in my collection of books here in the house. The problem is I was once sixteen and had my own problems. I had parents that were too busy and had too many problems of there own to worry much about me. We were poor, but I was clothed and fed and not abused, at least in the physical sense. If my English teacher would have assigned me a book report using Catcher in the Rye I would not have had the money to buy the book. &lt;br /&gt;She would not have understood and failed me. My teacher was caught up in her importance as a teacher and her role in our community. I doubt very much if she could call me by name in the Hall as we walked by each other. I refused to get up in front of the class and do a report on The Call of the Wild. I am sure the teacher had an f on my record before calling on the next student. She never asked for an explanation as to why I would not do the report. &lt;br /&gt;I did not like to talk in front of people because my teeth were rotten and I had a low self-esteem. I had no interest in The Call of the Wild and could not even relate the story to you then or now. Mind you I love to read and always have, I just wanted to read what interest me not others.&lt;br /&gt;I also like to write, and I do not share all my thoughts with the world. I hope after I am gone people are not rummaging through my closets. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-5291891381076975945?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/5291891381076975945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=5291891381076975945' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/5291891381076975945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/5291891381076975945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2010/02/jd-salinger.html' title='J.D. Salinger'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-2309217029372660211</id><published>2010-02-02T14:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T14:12:19.354-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oatmeal</title><content type='html'>When making Oatmeal, you need to pay attention to detail. I learned this the hard way. My wife makes it using the clock; it has to cook just so long and no longer. Sometimes I put too little Oatmeal in the pan and sometimes too much water. I never use the clock to time its cooking. &lt;br /&gt;Never the less it normally turns out so that it is eatable. I make it a little bit dryer than my wife does. She likes the Oatmeal to run out of the pan in to the bowl and I like to help it with a spoon. Not any spoon mind you, it has to be the spoon in which I am going to eat.&lt;br /&gt;I do not like the way she cooks it, but am smart enough to keep my mouth shut. I know she knows I do not know what I am doing but she is patient and leaves me to my chore.&lt;br /&gt;Special mornings are when Miss Emily spends the night and in the morning, we eat Oatmeal together. Her Brother Nathan is a Pancake type of person.  On these special mornings, Grandma (Meema) cooks breakfast. She makes Pancakes for Nathan, one-half helping of Oatmeal for Emily, and Papa gets a full helping.&lt;br /&gt;Lately the conversation goes something like this; Emily” My Mom always puts the milk in before the Brown sugar. I tell her to put the sugar on first but she does not listen.” Papa” Oh is that right”. Emily” Mom says it does not matter”. &lt;br /&gt;I normally put the Sugar on first and mix it in real good. Evidently, Emily’s mother has not time for this step. On special mornings I hear; “is that mixed good enough Papa“? Of course it always is. Then we add the milk and mix it all together.  Most of the time I hear; I am full Papa can I be excused? I normally end up eating all of my Oatmeal and at least three spoonfuls of Emily’s. Of course, Emily is sitting on Papa’s knee.&lt;br /&gt;Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-2309217029372660211?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/2309217029372660211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=2309217029372660211' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2309217029372660211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2309217029372660211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2010/02/oatmeal.html' title='Oatmeal'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-500789197772140760</id><published>2010-02-01T07:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T07:18:49.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids</title><content type='html'>Kids just are not as smart as they used to be.  I heard this while still in the Military back in 1992. Of course, I worked with young adults between the ages of eighteen and twenty two years of age. In fact, I trained them on Communications systems. &lt;br /&gt;You know how kids are; they listen to that music that makes them nuts, stay up to all hours of the night, drink too much, talk back, and not responsible at all. They are all going to Hades in a hand basket.&lt;br /&gt;It never proved to be true. The young adults I worked with were responsible, smart, and ambitious. They were always to work on time and ready to learn when they got to work. We trained on complicated communications systems, lifted six hundred pound walls and spent weeks out in the sticks with sub-standard shelter and food.  I never heard any complaints and they never let me down. &lt;br /&gt;A friend says kids just do not get it, they are lazy, do not want to work, dress funny and their hair is weird.  Not like us at their age, we had it together. Sure we did!&lt;br /&gt;Until next time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-500789197772140760?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/500789197772140760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=500789197772140760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/500789197772140760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/500789197772140760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2010/02/kids.html' title='Kids'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-2226945119144751928</id><published>2010-01-31T13:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T14:05:55.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Community Involvement</title><content type='html'>My wife and I went to Church today. We try and go every Sunday while we are down in South Carolina for the winter. The theme of this Blog is not Religion. I think getting involved in your Community is a good thing. Church is only one avenue to do so. Some of the positive aspects of community involvement are the new people you meet, the insight you gain, and the feeling you get by helping others. &lt;br /&gt;People are about the same wherever you go. Our Cultures may differ, but we are all basically the same. I think mingling with others rounds a person out. You get a chance to hear different points of view which gives you new insights. &lt;br /&gt; Meeting others, exchanging ideas, and helping each other make you a better person. Prejudices disappear, wisdom and experience increase. No matter how I look at it, it is a win, win situation. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-2226945119144751928?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/2226945119144751928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=2226945119144751928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2226945119144751928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2226945119144751928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2010/01/community-involvement.html' title='Community Involvement'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-7694321475988672022</id><published>2009-02-20T16:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T16:32:13.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Past Philosophers</title><content type='html'>The price of apathy towards public affairs is to be ruled by evil men.&lt;br /&gt;--Plato (428/427 BC– 348/347 BC)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it that the citizens of this Great Nation are so full of Apathy today. Plato as quoted above was well aware of this over two thousand years ago. Do we not learn anything from past events?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office--Aesop (~550 BC)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many crooked politicians can you think of. The more things change the more they stay the same. Are all politicians crooks or are all crooks politicians?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never trust the advice of a man in difficulties.--Aesop (620-560 BC&lt;br /&gt;How many politicians in difficulties are running our great nation today? When the fox is in the hen house….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we really knew the answers to all these questions we could not sleep at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the Kings Horses and all the kings men could not put humpty together again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Greed overpowers righteousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-7694321475988672022?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/7694321475988672022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=7694321475988672022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/7694321475988672022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/7694321475988672022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/02/past-philosophers.html' title='Past Philosophers'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-9091260121180562519</id><published>2009-02-16T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T16:00:08.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hedge Trimming</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine asked me to trim his hedges. His wife really does not think it is necessary. He finally talked her into it and I am part of the equation. Wanting to do a good job and please her (this is important) I looked to the internet for guidance.&lt;br /&gt;I looked at two different sites for information regarding the trimming of hedges. It looked easy; a couple of stakes, string, lopper (pruning shears with long handles) and an electric trimmer and were in business.&lt;br /&gt;I get on site, drive the stakes, run the string, and grab the trimmer; hey wait a minute this hedge is different. Now what do I do? Improvise. I start trimming the top, leaving the sides until last. My friend’s wife comes outside and says “oh you run stakes and string, that’s how you do it?” With an aura of confidence I say “uh huh”. With that she left me to my work.&lt;br /&gt;Three and a half hours later I have a third of the hedge trimmed. Tomorrow my friend (this means his wife) and I will discuss how the job is progressing. I may add ex-hedge trimmer to my resume. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-9091260121180562519?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/9091260121180562519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=9091260121180562519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/9091260121180562519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/9091260121180562519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/02/hedge-trimming.html' title='Hedge Trimming'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-6745640150988382333</id><published>2009-02-12T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T15:39:34.008-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Southern Gal</title><content type='html'>Around nine o’clock this morning my Southern Gal came over for a visit. She is beautiful, black, and has the most adorable brown eyes I have ever seen. I have to admit, it was love at first sight. I think she loves me too. I guess the past few months I have grown on her.&lt;br /&gt;Really she belongs to the neighbor lady but my home is her second home, just ask the neighbor lady. My Southern Gal is a Cocker Spaniel. When she leaves her owners home she heads to mine. I feed her, make over her, and play with her. In fact her mom has a hard time getting her to come home.&lt;br /&gt;Today she broke her collar, so her visit has been all day. I talked to the neighbor earlier and she said she would replace her collar and come get her. We have had a nice day but Molly is ready to go home. Too much of a good thing I guess. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-6745640150988382333?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6745640150988382333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=6745640150988382333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6745640150988382333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6745640150988382333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-southern-gal.html' title='My Southern Gal'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-3955811600377786123</id><published>2009-02-07T04:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T04:12:07.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stray Cat</title><content type='html'>I now have a Stray Cat. Maybe I should say I have always had a Stray Cat. You see this cat has been hanging around for the past four years. I have taken pity on it through the years and thrown tidbits to it now and then.&lt;br /&gt;This year I decided to feed it on a daily basis. I went to town and bought some dry cat food. My wife decided on her own to give it milk a couple times a day too. The cat is in heaven. I thought it was hungry all the time but the neighbor told me she has been feeding Stray Cat for years.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, I know how it is to be the only cat on the street. Strangers and friends have thrown me tidbits through the years. Stray Cat is feeling good and so am I. Feed a stray and feel good too. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-3955811600377786123?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/3955811600377786123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=3955811600377786123' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/3955811600377786123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/3955811600377786123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/02/stray-cat.html' title='Stray Cat'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-1220705150814581374</id><published>2009-02-05T06:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T06:24:01.313-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crowd Psychology</title><content type='html'>What is really going on in our Government? We have two parties consisting of people having different but similar ideas of what is good for the people. For as long as I can remember they have fought among themselves and wasted billions of dollars on Pork Barrel spending.&lt;br /&gt;They throw a few million dollars at the people while squandering billions overseas on senseless wars and other projects that do not benefit America. We deserve better from Congress and the Senate than the little piecemeal that is thrown our way.&lt;br /&gt;It appears they are caught up in a form of Crowd Psychology that will not let them breakout of their way of thinking. What we as a people need to do is limit the terms of office to three or four years. This will bring in new ideas and no one person will have a hold on anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;The Stimulus Package the President is trying to push through at this very moment is full of Pork Barrel spending. The Republicans are not happy because it does not include any of their ideas. I bet if we look closer this would equal their Pork Barrel projects. Why can not our Government just spend the money we need to get back on our feet and forget the Pork barrel spending?&lt;br /&gt;Again I say they are caught in their own way of thinking and cannot see the forest for the trees. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-1220705150814581374?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/1220705150814581374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=1220705150814581374' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1220705150814581374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1220705150814581374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/02/crowd-psychology.html' title='Crowd Psychology'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-7566010650384871037</id><published>2009-01-29T15:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T15:44:35.325-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Army Suicides at 3-Decade High</title><content type='html'>Around twenty suicides per one hundred thousand soldiers have been reported by officials. Even though the army has increased training, prevention programs and psychiatric staff suicides continue.&lt;br /&gt;Individual cases have revealed the most common factors for suicides were soldiers suffering problems with their personal relationships, legal or financial issues and problems on the job.&lt;br /&gt;The military spends millions of dollars a year on munitions. If I was a betting man I would put my money on the fact that just a fraction of that amount is spent on mental health.&lt;br /&gt;There are many reasons why our military members are killing themselves. I want you to know through first hand experience that going to mental health for help puts a flag on your career. I would have shot myself before going to mental health and I am not joking.&lt;br /&gt;The military spends millions of dollars and probably more teaching us how to kill but spends very little on teaching us to manage our personal affairs and to reconcile our belief systems.&lt;br /&gt;You cannot get any satisfactory answers. You have no where to turn. Do not tell us to turn to God because obviously for 20 out of 100,000 of us it does not work.&lt;br /&gt;So we go out and womanize, drink, drug, write bad checks, and fight anyone around us. This causes problems at home, with the legal system, and on the job. The training we receive in the above areas are minimal and of a generic nature. Even if we are not deployed to a war zone we can still have these problems because we are human. Some of us finally figure it out and can live with our past. Others turn to pills, guns, and automobile accidents. What ever it takes to end it all.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately the world outside the military is no smarter. There are people that think they no. They tell you what to do and collect thousands of dollars but there still are no answers. How can someone that has never experienced what the troops have experienced help them? I have no answers either I am still working through my own demons. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-7566010650384871037?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/7566010650384871037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=7566010650384871037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/7566010650384871037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/7566010650384871037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/army-suicides-at-3-decade-high.html' title='Army Suicides at 3-Decade High'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-6393937539448885021</id><published>2009-01-27T07:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T07:25:50.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Citigroup</title><content type='html'>ABC News reported that Citigroup planned to purchase a fifty million dollar jet from France. Last year our government handed Citigroup 45 billion dollars to rescue it. When talking to some members of Congress they were outraged but not enough to take action. There were some comments about not wanting to appear like socialist.&lt;br /&gt;If Congress does not want to appear like socialist then I suggest they let the businesses fail and let someone buy them that will succeed. Making Citigroup account for the 45 billion dollars of the taxpayer’s money is not being socialist; it is just good business sense. However just look at our economy; has the government ever showed any business sense? Why did President Obama have to make the call and tell Citigroup to fix it? It appears that the president has been running things the last eight years. Maybe it is time for Congress to return to their homes and stay there. It would save the taxpayers millions of dollars and maybe the President can get our country back on track. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-6393937539448885021?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6393937539448885021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=6393937539448885021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6393937539448885021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6393937539448885021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/citigroup.html' title='Citigroup'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-7263151783411735522</id><published>2009-01-26T18:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T18:29:23.074-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sheriff of Nottingham</title><content type='html'>Yahoo News reported Sunday that House Speaker Nancy Pelosi says she is open to additional government rescue money for banks and financial institutions. But she is demanding that taxpayers get an ownership stake in return.&lt;br /&gt;The Sheriff’s of Nottingham are at it again, stealing from the poor and giving to the rich. They have already given $350 billion to the banks with no accountability. Now they have another $350 billion in hand wanting to give more to the banks.&lt;br /&gt;The last thing this country needs is the government giving money to the banks and using it as an excuse to nationalize the banking system. What needs to be done is let the banks and financial institutions fail and have responsible and honest businessmen or women buy them.&lt;br /&gt;The banks and financial institutions that are in trouble have already proven they are incapable of managing themselves. Why pour more money into a sinking ship.&lt;br /&gt;It does not take a brain surgeon or a math major to figure this out.&lt;br /&gt;I see it clearly the government does not want to do what is right. They want to do what is convenient. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-7263151783411735522?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/7263151783411735522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=7263151783411735522' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/7263151783411735522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/7263151783411735522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/sheriff-of-nottingham.html' title='Sheriff of Nottingham'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-5604180004216888597</id><published>2009-01-25T06:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T06:37:31.691-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It is a Global War</title><content type='html'>The news reported this week that a detainee that was released from Guantanamo Bay joined Al Qaeda in Yemen. Of course he went back to his organization. What do we expect? Their war is a global war and will be fought the rest of their and our lives. After being released they do not go home and plant gardens and live their lives.&lt;br /&gt;As a prisoner of war your captors do not use you right. They abuse you and use you like a dog. This just strengthens your resolve to go back home and do anything you can do to punish your persecutors and their country men.&lt;br /&gt;Where is the fairness in throwing combatants in prison for eight years without a trial and no hope for freedom? These men are soldiers fighting for a cause they believe in. They are no different than I during the wars and trouble spots around the world I was involved in. Is it fair to lock them up and throw away the key just because our government does not recognize them as soldiers? What about human rights?&lt;br /&gt;Our government preaches to the world about human rights violations but keeps men locked up for years around the world. What about these men’s rights. Hum, I wonder why they want to re-arm once released and continue the fight. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-5604180004216888597?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/5604180004216888597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=5604180004216888597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/5604180004216888597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/5604180004216888597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/it-is-global-war.html' title='It is a Global War'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-2979722941333620901</id><published>2009-01-22T10:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T10:03:01.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Another Charade</title><content type='html'>We all know that the Senate will approve President Obama’s nomination for Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and his nomination for Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner. Why the dog and pony show? This seems to be the theme in our government. They think they are fooling the people with illusions like this. What are the hearings purposes anyway? I believe it is a rite of passage or an initiation into their elite society.&lt;br /&gt;In our government are there not two honest people that can fill these positions. Why do the people have to settle for a person whose husband has collected millions of dollars from countries all over the world? How can a person do an honest job of protecting our interests when her husband is indebted to these same countries? How can we trust a man that did not pay his taxes? What other mistakes will he make at our expense? Again, I ask is there not two honest people in our government that could do these jobs. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-2979722941333620901?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/2979722941333620901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=2979722941333620901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2979722941333620901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2979722941333620901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-another-charade.html' title='Just Another Charade'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-298252240432163704</id><published>2009-01-20T17:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T17:32:57.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing Will Change</title><content type='html'>Our Government has an agenda, and it is bigger than the President is. We no longer have a government by the people for the people. Unfortunately, the people that truly run the world will continue to do exactly what they have to, to establish a New World Order. The government does not need our help. Our leaders do exist without our help and will exist if we are here or not. The government wants us to believe we need them to show us the way.&lt;br /&gt;If getting us involved in two needless wars and putting us trillions of dollars in debt is guiding us, then no thank you I will guide myself. If throwing billions of dollars at banks and automobile companies that mismanage themselves is the best they can do, no thank you I will guide myself.&lt;br /&gt;If putting people in positions of power that accepts bribes and gifts from foreign countries, no thank you I will guide myself. If putting people in positions of power that do not pay their taxes, hire illegal aliens, cheat, lie, and steal, then no thank you I will guide myself.&lt;br /&gt;I for one am not going to stand by and say hoorah, hoorah, hoorah, for the continuing corrupt government that runs this country. I am not going to turn my eyes away and pretend everything is all right when it is not.&lt;br /&gt;It is not the hard working American Man or Woman that has caused the recession. It is the way our leaders and big business have handled the affairs of this country. Do not forget it is every man, woman and child in this country that is and will pay for their folly. Look for guidance from our leaders bite my tongue. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-298252240432163704?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/298252240432163704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=298252240432163704' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/298252240432163704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/298252240432163704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/nothing-will-change.html' title='Nothing Will Change'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-2083085740698260828</id><published>2009-01-19T04:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T04:09:04.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Old House</title><content type='html'>My wife and I purchased a house in South Carolina in 2005. Many people spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on their homes. These homes have quiet floors, insulated windows, and the latest technology in insulating their homes from the environment and the noise outside.&lt;br /&gt;The house we bought is fifty fears old. The floors creak when we walk from room to room. The windows are drafty at times and there is no insulation in the walls. The old floor furnace groans and moans when it gets hot and when it cools down. We hear the neighbors coming home or going away.&lt;br /&gt;A house of this caliber has character; it is built right into it. It is comforting to walk from room to room and listen to our home. Lying in bed I hear the furnace saying “hey it is ok, I am taking care of you”. If it gets a little drafty we throw another shirt or coat on and put another log in the fireplace.&lt;br /&gt;As a child growing up in Michigan I spent quite a few years in a house similar to this one. It was two story but the noises were familiar. It is no mystery why my wife and I like an older home. It brings back memories of times past. Of homes we remember as children. You remember; times when we all felt safe and secure while in our parents care. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-2083085740698260828?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/2083085740698260828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=2083085740698260828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2083085740698260828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/2083085740698260828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/this-old-house.html' title='This Old House'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-8085769926007557035</id><published>2009-01-16T13:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T13:26:11.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a Little Hiccup</title><content type='html'>Timothy Geithner the New York Federal Reserve chief that President-elect Barack Obama choose for treasury secretary failed to pay $34,000 in taxes. In addition he employed a housekeeper without proper immigration papers.&lt;br /&gt;The democrats claimed failing to pay his taxes was a small hiccup. Part of his job as treasury secretary is to oversee the Internal Revenue Service. Yahoo News reported Senate Democratic leaders and Obama transition officials immediately voiced confidence in Geithner and called for his quick confirmation once Obama is sworn in and is able to formally nominate him — citing the important role Geithner will play in dealing with one of the nation's severest recessions in decades.&lt;br /&gt;Do we really trust a man that does not pay his taxes as treasury secretary?&lt;br /&gt;Are not employers required by law to have their employees prove they are either American citizens or have the proper documentation to work in the United States?&lt;br /&gt;How long are we/you going to allow the current people that are running this country to ignore the laws that we have to obey? I for one am tired of all their stealing and lies.&lt;br /&gt;We have a large prison population in this country because of; let me think, oh yes a series of hiccups. Why should our friends and neighbors be in prison and the ruling class not.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I can make an honest mistake and not pay taxes this year. I need a good housekeeper; maybe Timothy Geithner can recommend one. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-8085769926007557035?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/8085769926007557035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=8085769926007557035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/8085769926007557035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/8085769926007557035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-little-hiccup.html' title='Just a Little Hiccup'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-64775266594547229</id><published>2009-01-14T14:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T14:58:21.465-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slogans and Other Comments</title><content type='html'>I received an email today with quite a few Political slogans. Slogans are fine but they do not accomplish anything. We all agree with the message the person is conveying. However sending this information back and forth to each other accomplishes nothing. When you write your Congressman you normally receive a response back. They tell you they know better than you and thank you for your correspondence. The response usually comes from an Aid because the Congressman is too busy to read your letter. I have never heard of a March in the street that ever changed anything. We all know and have known for years that the leaders of our government are not doing right by the people. If you do not know this I am willing to fill you in. Passing slogans, writing your Congressmen, and Marching in the streets protesting has no effect on the way the government is run.&lt;br /&gt;The only way to change what is happening is to change the face of government. Lets cut through all the illusions and get down to the nittty gritty. As long as you have Democrats and Republicans in charge of this country nothing will change. Where does that leave us?&lt;br /&gt;We need to elect a person from a new Party that will work for the people instead of themselves. You may say that you can not do it alone. Your are right. But remember what you were taught in Kindergarten, together we can doing anything.&lt;br /&gt;So let’s take all the energy we spend on Passing slogans, writing our Congressmen, and Marching in the streets and focus on starting up a new party that will work for the people. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-64775266594547229?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/64775266594547229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=64775266594547229' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/64775266594547229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/64775266594547229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/slogans-and-other-comments.html' title='Slogans and Other Comments'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-1636613247831854108</id><published>2009-01-13T15:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T15:49:51.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Thought Process</title><content type='html'>I was just thinking. Imagine all the Thoughts you have in a day. If the Thought process is not the fastest thing in the world, it has to be close. Some days I get to Thinking and my mind just flies. Sometimes I believe more time has gone by than really has. The Mind is a wonderful thing. I cannot imagine destroying it with drugs. My Mind has taken me all over the world, back in time and into the future. What other Commodity do you know of that will do the same and cost less. My mind allows me to invent Stories for my pleasure and other people’s pleasure. It also keeps me up at Night every once in awhile. I will not complain because of the joy that it gives me on a daily basis. Have a nice trip. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-1636613247831854108?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/1636613247831854108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=1636613247831854108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1636613247831854108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1636613247831854108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/thought-process.html' title='The Thought Process'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-6701702965805332201</id><published>2009-01-12T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T07:57:18.558-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Get Rich Quick</title><content type='html'>If you watch television, you can see all kinds of infomercials showing you how to get rich with no effort at all. Normally the only ones getting rich are the people behind the infomercial. If you really think about it, it must have taken some kind of effort to get the product from the idea phase to the infomercial. If we ponder further we realize it took quite a bit of capitol to finance the whole concept.&lt;br /&gt;If you have a few thousand dollars extra and the ability to get down to the nitty gritty details you may succeed. If you are not afraid of putting in more hours a week than you have ever worked in your life, I am sure you will succeed.&lt;br /&gt;In this time of financial problems in the world, the con men and women will do anything to rob you of the little money you have. There are good opportunities out there, just be cautious. Be sure to check out each opportunity carefully before investing. If you are not sure, have someone else help you. Remember if it sounds too good to be true it probably is. The bottom line is there is no easy money in the world. If that was the case, we would all be rich. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-6701702965805332201?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6701702965805332201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=6701702965805332201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6701702965805332201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6701702965805332201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/get-rich-quick.html' title='Get Rich Quick'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-9021312921762845206</id><published>2009-01-11T06:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T06:52:45.647-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reply-all e-mail storm hits State</title><content type='html'>In the News the past couple of days is a story about the State Dept. telling their people not to hit the Reply all button on their emails. As reported in Yahoo News, the cable a copy of which was obtained by The Associated Press was sent in response to major interruption in departmental e-mail caused by numerous diplomats hitting "reply all" to an errant message inadvertently addressed and copied to several thousand recipients.&lt;br /&gt;At the end of my Military career the internet and email was just getting started. Everyone from the Commander to the lowliest Airman had to have an email account. It did not take me long to realize that people, usually the higher ranking Non Commissioned Officers would not address their emails to the individuals the correspondence was aimed at. They just sent it to everyone. Needless to say I spent wasted time deleting emails that did not pertain to me.&lt;br /&gt;Most people are lazy; they will take the easiest way out no matter what impact it has on other people. I did not complain to the Commander about this problem. It was obvious I was the only one that had a problem with this practice. When something like this happens someone finally does something about it. It could have been taken care of as soon as it was identified fifteen years ago. I am sure I am not the only one to recognize this problem through the years.&lt;br /&gt;The password the Military give me consisted of at least ten characters and probably closer to fifteen. This was ridiculous. Then I spent valuable time deleting email that should not have been sent to me in the first place. I just threw the pass word away and never checked my Email again.&lt;br /&gt;I really have to question the errant message inadvertently addressed and copied to several thousand recipients. In my experience as stated above this was standard practice. I do not think things have changed through the years. I can see through the illusion to what is. I know when some one is peeing on my boots and telling me it is raining outside. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Norm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-9021312921762845206?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/9021312921762845206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=9021312921762845206' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/9021312921762845206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/9021312921762845206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/reply-all-e-mail-storm-hits-state.html' title='Reply-all e-mail storm hits State'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-6808971013072177897</id><published>2009-01-10T06:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T06:07:16.008-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year Resolutions</title><content type='html'>I am thinking about making some resolutions for the New Year. Let me think about how to go about this endeavor. I suppose I should keep it simple and easy to accomplish. My first Resolution is; only help the people that help me. I am going to skip the people that only remember me when they want something. They do not remember me on Holidays or my Birthday. Resolution numbers two; I will change my diet slightly. I will eat more Fiber and food that will aid my health. I probably will still eat the things that are bad for me also. Resolution numbers three; I will exercise more. If I walk to town a little more this should satisfy this resolution. Three is enough.&lt;br /&gt;My thinking is if I keep them simple, and low energy I may be able to keep my Resolutions this year. Oh yes I have stars in my eyes and big dreams about the Resolutions I would like to make. However, reality sets in and I know that you know I will never keep them. Therefore, this year I will try a new angle. Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-6808971013072177897?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6808971013072177897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=6808971013072177897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6808971013072177897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6808971013072177897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-resolutions.html' title='New Year Resolutions'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-7922920545227106120</id><published>2008-11-14T05:50:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T05:52:49.959-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love The Rain</title><content type='html'>I love the rain; it makes me think of days gone by. It was raining when I woke up this morning. I lay in bed like I always do, snuggling back into the covers and dozing a little longer. The Rain kind of hypnotizes me and takes me to a place where everything is good in my world. I think back to when I was a child growing, feeling secure lying in bed listening to the rain hit the roof of my parent’s house. When I was in the Military, waking up in a tent during a light rain was comforting. I hated to start my day and leave the place that provided me with solace. It is nice to set on a porch, listen to, and watch the rain. I feel the cool breeze a nice rain brings with it. When my time is up on this journey in life, it would be nice to make the transition during a light rainstorm. Until next time. Norm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-7922920545227106120?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/7922920545227106120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=7922920545227106120' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/7922920545227106120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/7922920545227106120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-love-rain.html' title='I Love The Rain'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-4479566156269194437</id><published>2008-11-12T06:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T06:19:42.778-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep Up The Fight</title><content type='html'>I have had some successes in my life; I have had failures also. I have always worked hard trying to make a living. Circumstances have never quite clicked to help me really achieve financial independence. Some people get lucky, others are helped a long the way by friends or family. For most of us though, we have to hammer out a living the best way we know how. We work for others, in Factories, Construction companies, Retail stores and a thousand other dead end jobs. Today is no different than it has always been, the Economy has its difficulties, this just happens to be its downward cycle. In times like this, we Americans are at our best. We help each other the best we can while we struggle ourselves. When the cards are down us Americans step up to the plate and take action. In time like these, we are at our best because we come up with new ideas to make money. This not only helps our families, it helps all of us through new inventions and breakthroughs that benefit humankind. Do not fear failure, it only makes you stronger. It makes you smarter also, it gives you the knowledge to go forward and succeed. Therefore, my friends keep up the fight. Until next time. Norm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-4479566156269194437?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/4479566156269194437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=4479566156269194437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/4479566156269194437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/4479566156269194437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/keep-up-fight.html' title='Keep Up The Fight'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-5630894225287614619</id><published>2008-11-09T06:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-09T06:56:11.218-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Enjoy Heating With Wood</title><content type='html'>I like wood heat, it seems to make a hotter fire than anything else I have found. Heating with wood also reminds me of simpler times in my life. I can remember going to the woods with my father to load wood in a wagon. The woods was five miles away and it was quite a trip for a little one; I was five years old at the time. By the time we got to the woods I would be cold and crying. My father would say come on stamp them feet and get to loading wood, you will warm up. Of course he could not convince me this was true.&lt;br /&gt; After getting a wagon load of wood we would return the five miles home. I could not go into the house and get warm because the wood had to be unloaded and stacked. By the time all the wood was taken care of I was like an Ice cube. Mom would draw water in an old tub and soak me in it until I warmed up.&lt;br /&gt; I loved the smell of the wood burning. I enjoyed the heat that come out of our one Heat register located in our front room. In the winter time we could see the soot from our furnace laying on the snow in the front yard.&lt;br /&gt;To me it was a simpler time but to my father it was a lot of work. He always had to tinker with his saw to get it to run. Saws were heavier back then also. It was quite a chore to get in wood for the cold Michigan winters. I never heard him complain though.&lt;br /&gt;I still use wood today in our home in Michigan in the spring of the year.  We go to south Carolina for the winter. Yea I use wood down south also. It's nice to watch the fire burn in my Fireplace Wood Insert and think about simpler times. Till next time. Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-5630894225287614619?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/5630894225287614619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=5630894225287614619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/5630894225287614619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/5630894225287614619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-enjoy-heating-with-wood.html' title='I Enjoy Heating With Wood'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-4910585120154265723</id><published>2008-11-07T15:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T15:13:45.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love a Pun</title><content type='html'>I have a very good friend, His name is Dan. One of the things I like best about Dan is he loves a good Pun and he knows a lot of them. Dan loves to share his Puns with me. I enjoy them as much as he likes to tell them. We are always trying to find new ways to out wit each other. This task is nearly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;impossible&lt;/span&gt; for me because Dan is a master storyteller. I recall one time Dan, I and our wife's we on our way somewhere and I started to tell Dan A story. This is how the story went; When I was a young man growing up we had an old cow. This cow was so old and dried out that. Just as I got to the punch line my Buddy Dan blurted out; all she give was powered milk. I was laughing so hard I couldn't finish the story. Dan had beat me to the punch. This is a story I had never heard before and I think it was original. I made it up on the spur of the moment trying to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Buffalo&lt;/span&gt; Dan. I should have known better. Till next time. Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-4910585120154265723?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/4910585120154265723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=4910585120154265723' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/4910585120154265723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/4910585120154265723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-love-pun.html' title='I Love a Pun'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-6756769701749802818</id><published>2008-11-05T12:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T13:13:51.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let,s Be Nice</title><content type='html'>Have you ever been to the store and when you get ready to checkout all the checkout lines are full?  This happens to me every once in a while.  Sometimes I have a shopping cart full of groceries and other times I just have a couple of items.  More than once I have had people in line tell me to go ahead and checkout before them.  Their cart was full of groceries and I had a couple of items.  My wife and I went shopping yesterday and when we got ready to check out our cart was full.  I spied a man with three items in his hand and asked him if he was ready to check out. The gentleman said yes and I told him to go ahead of me in line.  He appreciated this gesture of good will and thanked me.  Just as he finished checking out an elderly lady approached my wife and asked her if she could check out ahead of us. My wife said most certainly.  The lady had two items in her hand and as she passed my wife she leaned forward and give my wife a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  It made me and my wife feel good and brightened our day to extend a little kindness to someone else.  In fact I would say our whole day was better.  So for our own well being and someone Else's, let's be nice.  Till next time . Norm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-6756769701749802818?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6756769701749802818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=6756769701749802818' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6756769701749802818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6756769701749802818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/lets-be-nice.html' title='Let,s Be Nice'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-1722190814437960102</id><published>2008-11-04T04:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T05:12:41.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Eat</title><content type='html'>My wife and I like to travel. We not only like to travel, we like to take our friends along. When you travel you have to stop along the way to eat. We do not just stop anyplace to eat on our travels. We find a Mom and Pop Restaurant to dine in.&lt;br /&gt;Part of the fun of dining out is enjoying the local culture. Besides the fact of the local culture you can get some of the best food you have ever eaten.&lt;br /&gt;One time a few years ago we went into a Mom and Pop restaurant in Pennsylvania.This place was right out of the program Happy Days. The waitress come over and brought our menu's and poured us some coffee. My Buddie Dan spotted something on the menu he had never seen before.&lt;br /&gt;SCRAPPLE! When the waitress returned to take our order Dan wanted to know what scrapple was. The young lady did not know. There was a gentleman siting one table over from us listening to the whole conversation. This man tried to explain what scrapple was but really was not sure himself. It was time to get the cook so he could tell us what scrapple was. Scrapple is made of Pork sausage, corn meal and grease. We ordered our breakfast enjoying the local culture while we ate it. Yes Dan did order the scrapple. Compliments to the Chef.&lt;br /&gt;Quite a few years ago I, my wife, and a friend were traveling through the South. We stopped at a Restaurant in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. This was a Mom and Pop place and it was packed with local folks. The gentleman that owned the place said he bought it when he was sixteen years old and he had owned it for forty six years. We ordered our breakfast; I asked for Toast, Eggs, Grits and Bacon. While we waited we made small talk and watched the other folks in the diner. The locals would get up and go behind the counter and get more coffee. They shared each others pitcher of cream off the tables. They talked, joked and enjoyed each others company. The owner of the place brought our breakfast to the table. Being a gentleman, he placed the ladies meals before them first. After he put my breakfast on the table he slapped me on the back and said " You know if we would have had more Grits we would have whipped you Yanks". Of course he was teasing me, we both had a good laugh. What a wonderful man. Till next time. Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-1722190814437960102?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/1722190814437960102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=1722190814437960102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1722190814437960102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/1722190814437960102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/lets-eat.html' title='Let&apos;s Eat'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-8535702912768668944</id><published>2008-11-03T09:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T10:07:05.460-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Years Past</title><content type='html'>Now that I am older I set and ponder on years past. I think about the different seasons of my life and the lack of knowledge I had at that time. If I had to take a guess, I suppose I was six years old walking on the beach of Lake Michigan. My older brother was with me. As we walked along the beach playing and exploring we met up with a lady. The lady was in her middle fifties.This Lady had on a beautiful red sun dress. The dresses sleeves were just straps that went over her shoulders. The straps were hooked to a blouse which in turn was sewed to a pleaded skirt. She wore a big straw hat with a brim to keep the sun out of her eyes and off her face. All of her fingernails and toenails were painted to match her sundress.&lt;br /&gt;There she set is a lounge chair right at the edge of the beach. She had a book in her hand and a fishing line in the water. What caught my brothers and my attention was where her bait was laying. Her bait lay in an inch of water by her right foot.&lt;br /&gt;I can not recall if we greeted the lady or if she greeted us as we walked by. But I do remember my brother and I laughing. We knew that stupid women was not going to catch any fish with her hook in an inch of water. Til next time. Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-8535702912768668944?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/8535702912768668944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=8535702912768668944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/8535702912768668944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/8535702912768668944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/now-that-i-am-older-i-set-and-ponder-on.html' title='Years Past'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-197303677697626174</id><published>2008-11-02T05:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T06:06:56.080-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I love Children</title><content type='html'>I love children, I love their innocence and their love of life. I like George Carlin but I do not always agree with what he thinks. I do not believe that it takes two parents to raise a child. I believe it takes two parents and a village to raise a child. When I start reminiscing I remember people in my village that helped me along the way.&lt;br /&gt;There was the lady at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Anderson's&lt;/span&gt; grocery store, that knew every step I took while I was in the store. No, she was not afraid I was going to steel something. One day I went into the store with a dime in my hand. I looked around for awhile to see what I wanted. A dime back then was quite a bit of money for a little guy. I finally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;spotted&lt;/span&gt; the gum ball machine. In my mind with the limited knowledge I had at eight years old, I thought I could get ten pieces of gum at once out of the machine. To my immediate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;disappointment&lt;/span&gt; I received one gum ball.  Almost before I retrieved the gum from the machine the lady was there to console me. She knew what happened without me telling her. This lady loved me, she returned my dime and explained to me how the machine worked.&lt;br /&gt;We had a neighbor that lived behind us. He and his wife would invite our family over for super every once in a while. Their children were grown and out of the house so these people were happy to spoil us. Not with gifts by any means but attention. We had to tell them all about school and how we were doing. They were sure to know about all of our interests and inquire about them also. After super was finished and the dishes were done we all went into the living room for small talk. Us kids were never shoved into another room to play because we were just as important as our parents. Just before we would leave they would ask us kids to sing. All three of us would stand together and sing our hearts out.  The man and his wife would be praising us for the way we sung as we left to go home.&lt;br /&gt;My second grade teacher taught my father also. She was old and when I say old I mean Grandma old.  I loved her dearly and she loved me. I do not believe she singled me out as special but she sure made me feel that way.&lt;br /&gt;My third grade teacher stoled my heart. You see I was rough housing at our house with my brother and broke my nose. When I got to school the next day she took me aside and inquired what happened. She sealed the deal when she kissed my nose.&lt;br /&gt;We also had friends and neighbors that were sure to discipline us when we were naughty. They did not spank us but certainly lets know they were dissappointed in us. They not only told us we could do better, they explained how we could do better.&lt;br /&gt;So as you can tell in my experience it takes two parents and a village to raise a child. Tell next time. Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-197303677697626174?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/197303677697626174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=197303677697626174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/197303677697626174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/197303677697626174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-love-children.html' title='I love Children'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1579461241374018665.post-6649306707467729993</id><published>2008-11-01T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T09:40:37.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Happened to Halloween?</title><content type='html'>Last night was Halloween and two Goblins showed up at our door. That's it, no less and no more. When I was a kid we couldn't wait to hit the streets. Excitement was in the air, we could hardly wait for daylight to disappear. The streets were full of children dressed in costume going from house to house.&lt;br /&gt;The treats were not cheap either. Some people gave quarters out, others give nickle candy bars to all the children that ventured by. Some of the best treats were homemade popcorn balls, fudge and cookies. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;A lot&lt;/span&gt; of times there were hugs to go with the candy.&lt;br /&gt;Folks back then really knew how to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;celebrate&lt;/span&gt; Halloween. They were not just ordinary people, they were our teachers, neighbors, friends of the family and store clerks, that watched us grow up. They all had time vested in the communities children. They wanted us to be safe, have fun and know we were loved.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what has happened to this Tradition, are we just to busy to get involved in a night of fun for our children? Has this night really turned into a night of fright. Are people too afraid to let their children go out to the streets and collect candy?&lt;br /&gt;I know there are a few crack pots out there that just do not get it. They want to poison candy and hurt our children. I say lets take back the streets, throw the book at the crack pots and continue a long celebrated tradition.&lt;br /&gt;Some people believe Halloween &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;celebrates&lt;/span&gt; the dark arts. If parents would just take the time to research the history of Halloween they would find this is not true.  Till next time. Norm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1579461241374018665-6649306707467729993?l=normschatbox.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/feeds/6649306707467729993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1579461241374018665&amp;postID=6649306707467729993' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6649306707467729993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1579461241374018665/posts/default/6649306707467729993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normschatbox.blogspot.com/2008/11/what-happened-to-halloween.html' title='What Happened to Halloween?'/><author><name>Norm</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05848063014491981573</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
