Daily Prompt: On the Road – Adopt me please!

If you could pause real life and spend some time living with a family anywhere in the world, where would you go? Photographers, artists, poets: show us TRAVELS.

I want to be adopted by a family with no heirs and a great deal of money. A family who have been searching for people who need their love and resources. It’s important that they also love dogs (we have four and aren’t going anywhere without them) and have a yard for them. Preferably a doggy door. And a good veterinarian on call.

Location doesn’t matter, though we’d all prefer someplace without snow … but willing to compromise. Just please, pay my bills and love me.

I like this house. I could live here. Especially if someone else will take care of it!
I like this house. I could live here. Especially if someone else will take care of it!

 

I come with an entourage so these generous souls will need to stand ready to adopt the rest of my family. That includes my son, his wife, my granddaughter — and most important, my husband. He is an undemanding soul, requiring little more than a comfortable bed, a recliner, a fast WiFi connection, food, coffee, a large screen HDTV with a good cable package … and lots of love. Hugs are important. Essential, in fact.

Hugs make the world go round.

WEEKLY PHOTO CHALLENGE: SATURATED – GARDENS

Nothing says color like flowers. From wild to cultivated to hothouse, every color of the rainbow and many the rainbow never thought of are captured in flowers. Rich in scent, evocative, alive.

FOR ONE CENT PLAIN

I got an email from AT&T. It was alarming. I was overdue on my bill! They were going to report me to collection agencies, send it to all those companies that decide whether or not you deserve to have a credit card or a mortgage.

I was surprised because I paid the bill. On time. Online. I know I did.

Obverse side of a 1990 issued US Penny. Pictur...

So, after resetting my password — it doesn’t matter how many times I set my password … the next time I go to AT&T’s website, I will have to do it again — I looked at my bill. Somehow, I had underpaid the bill by a penny. One cent. $00.01

In retribution for my oversight, AT&T is going to sic the collection agency on me. I deserve to pay big for this lapse in fiscal responsibility.Though I actually think it was their error, not mine, but let’s not quibble.

Paying the bill!
Paying the bill!

There are many battles to fight in life. One must pick amongst them lest one be overwhelmed. This giant corporation is going to destroy my credit for want of a penny. This is what happens when computers run the world and no people monitor what they are doing. I’m sure this was all automatically generated. I am equally certain if I’d called them, they would have cancelled the bill. AT&T has pretty good customer service. But that would take even more time and effort. I fondly believe my time, even retired, is worth more than a penny.

So I paid the bill. I wasn’t actually sure my bank would let me pay a one cent bill, but they did.

One cent. Just one cent. Mind boggling.

Magic Time – Induction at the Hall of Fame – Garry Armstrong

From the Hall of Fame induction — September 12, 2013 — pictures of happy people having a really great day. These are the pictures from the ceremony and immediately after it.

At the Hall of Fame, September 2013
At the Hall of Fame, September 2013

Plus, a great picture of us by Bill Brett (Boston Globe) and a rare picture of Garry and his brother, Dr. Anton Armstrong … and Garry at the podium accepting the award. Typically these events are a bit of a letdown, but this one was not. It was just what we wanted it to be and maybe even better!

SMART CARS

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From BIZARRO: And now we have a gag from my good buddy, Dan McConnell. He usually discusses these collaborations on his FB page but he hasn’t posted it as of this writing. I guess he’s waiting for me to post this. Anyway, check out his page and his other cartoons which can be found lurking thereon.

VISIT BIZARRO AT HIS HOME SITE!

“Moe” Berg: Sportsman, Scholar, Spy — Central Intelligence Agency

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See also on Scoop.itForty Two: Life and Other Important Things

“Moe” Berg: Sportsman, Scholar, Spy

Morris “Moe” Berg, a professional baseball player who also served his country as an intelligence officer, lived a life many can only dream of. A true Renaissance man, Berg graduated from Princeton University, passed the New York State bar exam and learned eight languages.

Moe Berg - Catching for the Senators, 1932-1934
Moe Berg – Catching for the Senators, 1932-1934

After graduating from college in 1923, Moe played 15 seasons of major-league baseball as a shortstop, catcher and coach. Pictured are his cards as coach of the Boston Red Sox in 1940 and as catcher for the Washington Senators (from 1932 – 34).

Mixing Baseball and Intelligence

Berg’s entrance into the field of intelligence began when he, Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and other baseball greats formed an all-star team and traveled to Japan in the mid-1930s for exhibition games.

Proficient in Japanese, Berg talked his way into one of the tallest buildings in Tokyo. He climbed to the rooftop alone and used a movie camera to film the capital city’s shipyards. Reportedly, the US used Berg’s footage to plan bombing raids over Tokyo in World War II.

OSS Intelligence Career Highlights

Following the attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, Berg initially joined the White House’s new Office of Inter-American Affairs but left for the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) in 1943. He became a paramilitary officer and carried out various intelligence operations in Europe, including parachuting into Yugoslavia to evaluate resistance groups there.

Moe Berg, coaching for the Red Sox, 1940
Moe Berg, coaching for the Red Sox, 1940

By 1945 Berg had been tasked to determine whether Nazi Germany was close to having a nuclear weapon. Using his language skills and charm, he managed to locate and chat with Werner Heisenberg, a top physicist in the Third Reich. Berg accurately determined that the answer was “no.”

Berg stayed with the OSS until it dissolved in 1945. Afterward, he served on the staff of NATO’s Advisory Group for Aeronautical Research and Development.

A Word from Berg

Before his death in 1972, Berg said, “Maybe I’m not in the Cooperstown Baseball Hall of Fame like so many of my baseball buddies, but I’m happy I had the chance to play pro ball and am especially proud of my contributions to my country. Perhaps I could not hit like Babe Ruth, but I spoke more languages than he did.”

The baseball cards pictured here are held in the CIA Museum’s collection.

Afterward

President Franklin Delano Roosevelt once described Moe Berg as a most unusual fellow.

When the war ended, Moe Berg found himself unemployed. He did receive occasional intelligence assignments, including a visit to the Soviet Union, where his ability to speak Russia was valuable. Traveling with other agents, when asked for credentials, by a Soviet border guard in Russian-dominated Czechoslovakia, he showed the soldier a letter from the Texaco Oil company, with its big red star. The illiterate soldier was satisfied and let them pass.

He lived with his brother Samuel for 17 years and, when evicted, spent his last final years with his sister, Ethel. A lifelong bachelor, he never owned a home or even rented an apartment. He never learned how to drive. When someone criticized him for wasting his talent, Berg responded: “I’d rather be a ballplayer than a justice on the U.S. Supreme Court.”

Marilyn Armstrong‘s insight:

I thought maybe this was urban legend, but this is from the C.I.A.’s own website, so I guess not! How come this hasn’t been made into a movie? It reads like one!

See on www.cia.gov

DAILY PROMPT: CLEAN HOUSE? I TRIED. I FAILED.

Is there “junk” in your life? Are you kidding? I am human, therefore I have junk!

What kind? What would you like? I’m sure I’ve got it somewhere. Books. Photographs. Goodfers. Old dog leashes. Old empty purses and briefcases — there’s nothing wrong with them … they just aren’t in current use — don’t call them junk!

Unframed original art. Musical instruments. Posters. Dolls. More dolls. Even more dolls. Pottery, ancient and new. Clothing that’s too small. Clothing I used to wear but don’t like any more. Old bills. New bills. Envelopes for bills I’ll never use because I pay everything online. Medicine bottles with and without medicine. Empty eyeglass cases. Old tax records. New tax records. Records. Stuff you can’t throw away but just accumulates with the years. Documents. Mortgage documents, remortgage documents, official documents, unofficial documents.

How do you get rid of it? I can’t get rid of it. It’s valuable. Maybe someday I’ll be able to frame the art. I have to collect the clothing and donate it. There are people who need clothing. It’s not junk to them. And the cameras aren’t junk. They are organized and carefully packed in their bags.

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Photographers, artists, poets: show us JUNK. Junk! I beg to differ. It perhaps appears junky to the untutored eye. I look at that pile of stuff. I see a favorite poet, one to whose works I frequently refer. I spy a book I will read as soon as I finish the one I’m reading. The rest? The biggest bag, the blue one with handle and wheels contains a career’s worth of writing samples. Or maybe old doll clothing and the writing samples are somewhere else. I could open the bag and look. Nah. Then I’d have to figure out what to do with the stuff.

If only there was a room in the house with an available closet. The office is closing in on me.

The rest of the “junk”? Camera bags containing … are you ready? Cameras. And camera accessories. Set up so I can grab the medium-size yellow canvas bag, Garry can grab the black bag and we are off, each with our favorites including spare batteries and anything else we might need.

There’s a thin line between treasures and junk. Very thin and I tread the line with deep trepidation.