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TOPIC APRIL 19, 2007

Joanne T. Butterweck Copyright © February 15, 2007

     Man,  some people have got it so good.  That was me, until one day I was listening to my mother and I heard her tell her best friend that I was a dog.  It’s true that I don’t resemble my father or mother at all, but not all kids do.  Then she continued talking and said that I really thought I was a “people” especially when I sneak up on the couch when they leave for work.  I didn’t know I was sneaking.  I thought it was perfectly all right as long as I got down when they come home so they could set on it.  Besides how on earth does my folks know I’ve been on the couch?  I get down as soon as I hear the car in the drive way.

     Well now I have to figure out what a dog is.  I really live the good life.  I have a really big pillow in front of the fireplace and another one in the master bed room by my parents bed.  I can nap when ever I want to and it is so comfortable.  My mom always gives me the best breakfast out of a can called Pedigree. She even heats it in the microwave sometimes.  I have two very nice bowls on a stand.  One is for my Pedigree and the other is for water and usually mom drops a couple of ice cubes in the water to make it as cool as the water in the toilet bowl.  That is really nice I would much rather have water in my bowl. But if I’m too lazy and I’m in the bed room I can just go get a sip out of the toilet.  Not a big deal.

     When I want to go out to do my business in the yard.  All I have to do is stand by the door.  If they are real busy, I may have to cough or something to get their attention.  I just roam around the yard until I find that certain spot where it smells just right and then I can do my business either pee pee or pooh as my mom calls it.  Sometimes if I take too long, mom will just demand that I “pee pee” or go “pooh pooh” she’ll demand in her gruff voice.  The one I don’t like.  Boy, I’ll do just about anything to keep mom from using that voice.

     My favorite game is Tug-of-war.  At least that is what my mom and dad call it.  It’s
a sock toy made up of a about three or four of my dad’s holey socks.  Mom puts a couple of socks inside one and then ties it in a big knot.  I like this toy better than any other.  It is so fun to bit on and it smells like my dad’s feet.  It don’t get much better that.  The game starts when I bring the toy to either my mom or dad and drop it at their feet and they pick it up and throw it across the room.  Then let the games begin.  I go on a dead run and pick the toy up in my mouth and run back to who ever threw it and then they grab hold of it and pull as hard as they can to try to get it away from me.   Finally I let go and we start all over again.  We play this game until I can hardly breath and I have to go lay down on my pillow in front of the fireplace.

     Well any way this dog thing sure had me concerned.  I do everything my parents do..  I get in the car when they say “ride” in fact I can hardly contain myself when they say either “ride or walk”.  I just tare through the house and my mom says “sit” and I do.  But oh, my, do I feel fidgety. I can’t think of anything I would rather do than go for a ride.  I have my own towel to set on in the back seat.  And all those delicious smells in the air and my parents crack a window so the wind blows in my face and I feel like I’m flying.  Oh, boy!  Oh, Boy!!!!

     When we return from our ride and I’m safely back in the house I make a dead run, full tilt, around the dining room table and into the family room around the couch I go and by that time I have up enough steam that I almost lay on my side around the turns.  My mom calls it a figure eight and my dad calls it hauling-ass. My brother Drew, who used to be my dad, calls it my happy run. But whatever it is, it’s the most fun that I ever have.  My mom always laughs and say’s,  “Your going to run into something and hurt yourself.”  But I never do because I’ve got this run wired.
     Back to this dog thing.  I guess if I am a “dog” and not a “people” it will just have to be OK.  Because I couldn’t have a better life regardless of what I am.  Mom and dad both think I’m smart and obedient.   They tell everyone how wonderful I am.  And everyone who comes in our house makes a big fuss over me.  They can’t wait to pet my soft coat and they coo to me and some of them even talk baby talk. That’s kind of fun but I don’t understand baby talk too well.
     Oh, by the way my name is Diamond.  I got my name because of a mark on my head that is in the shape of a diamond.  One time,  I heard my mom tell someone my name was Diamond and then she explained, “You know Diamond!  Like Diamond’s are a girls best friend.”  That’s when I got the idea that I was my mom’s best friend.  So that is why when she sit’s in her chair, I go over and set on her feet to protect her.  If she is doing something in the kitchen or in the office I make sure I lay right behind her as close as I can get without touching her.  That way I can protect her, there too,  like a best friend would.  She has only fallen over me a couple of times and since she didn’t break anything, I just keep watching over her.  I am her best friend and it’s important that she know’s it.

     My life, whatever it is, dog or human is wonderful and if I ever die, I’m going to come back to my parents either as a kid or dog, it really doesn’t matter which one. As long as they are my parents and I am their Diamond girl.

TOPIC MAY 17, 2007

 Copyright © 2007 Andrew Alberti Jr All rights reserved worldwide

     As a little boy I was once challenged to prove my point on an issue. I learned I was wrong. It was at that point that I resolved not to let that happen again. I resolved to be best informed or not talk about it.
     As a young man, BJ (before JoAnne), I used to pick up the dictionary and read it. Yep. I actually used to read the dictionary. Not page by page but randomly, skimming the pages, looking for things that interested me. Things that caught my eye. I suppose it was a habit picked up from reading the cereal boxes during breakfast. A habit repeated over and over again, from Cheerios to Wheaties and even Quaker Oats. Oh, how I resented that round box.
     I wasn’t a speed reader mind you, although I did take a course while working at Grumman Aircraft.
     There was a time when Jessica, my first wife, cajoled me in to proving that the dictionary was interesting to read. I had not shared this with anyone before, the outlandish reading of the dictionary for anything, other than to look up a word. For example: the word Marquis. “A prefect of the marches or border territories. A title of dignity in Britain.”
 I then looked up marquisette. Just what could that mean. Since I did not know we took guesses before reading the actual definition.
     I guessed a little marquis. She guessed a female of the genus Marquis. In truth it was “A loosely woven fabric, Now how did that happen?
     How about the word marvel. “A wonder, an object of great astonishment. Lo and behold, immediately after this definition appeared, “as in Andrew Alberti Jr.”,or so I claimed.
     Well on to the fiction
     Blacks Law Dictionary with pronunciations states:
An assumption or supposition of law, that something which is or may be false is true, or that a state of facts exists, which has never really taken place.
     Fiction as defined in Western “The living Webster Encyclopedic dictionary of the English Language” is “ A creation of the imagination, a fanciful story...the act of inventing or imagining.  In law: an assumption that something false may be true.
     Merriam Webster Childrens Dictionary puts it this way:
Something told or written that is not fact     A made up story
     I know the greatest writing of all, that has affected me, is the Constitution of the United States of America. This non fiction is a wonderful story filled with hope, salvation, truth, protection of the people and history.
     Somehow it has birthed the IRS code, a wonderful fiction writing of everything opposite to the protections of the Constitution.
     Now why is this the book I selected? The uninformed have never read it and have never read what others have written about it. They pooh pooh the comments made by those who have read both documents and yet remain uneducated and uninformed. It is kind of like everything we see today. Bad laws that no one follows or are even aware exist. Complex requirements even those who wrote them are quick to admit to a total lack of understanding.
     So, as a young boy, now an old man, what did the IRS code validate for me as  my valuable lesson in life. The rules only count for some. Not everyone understands the rules. Those who do apply the rules don’t always know them. They go by instinct and feelings. Avoid having to answer for the rules. If you do have to answer for the rules, know them. You will be a step ahead of the rest.