TerryWalstrom

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Posts by TerryWalstrom

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  11

  Encounter with C.I.A. Military Dude

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. experiences

  encounter with c.i.a.

  military dudewhat follows is my conversation with a well-muscled dude in a paramilitary shirt (outside on starbucks’ patio) yesterday.military dude: (pointing) “rear tire : ya got a flat, buddy.”me: “thanks.

  slow leak.

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  TerryWalstrom

  Bear paws sounds better
• 
  11

  Encounter with C.I.A. Military Dude

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. experiences

  encounter with c.i.a.

  military dudewhat follows is my conversation with a well-muscled dude in a paramilitary shirt (outside on starbucks’ patio) yesterday.military dude: (pointing) “rear tire : ya got a flat, buddy.”me: “thanks.

  slow leak.

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  TerryWalstrom

  I have the same opinion. Anybody who begins a conversation with a total stranger by spilling the beans of something
  you've sworn never to divulge--is always slightly suspect :)
• 
  11

  Encounter with C.I.A. Military Dude

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. experiences

  encounter with c.i.a.

  military dudewhat follows is my conversation with a well-muscled dude in a paramilitary shirt (outside on starbucks’ patio) yesterday.military dude: (pointing) “rear tire : ya got a flat, buddy.”me: “thanks.

  slow leak.

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  2. 
  3. 
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  TerryWalstrom

  ENCOUNTER with C.I.A. Military Dude
  
  What follows is my conversation with a well-muscled dude in a paramilitary shirt (outside on Starbucks’ patio) yesterday.
  
  
  Military Dude: (pointing) “Rear tire : ya got a flat, Buddy.”
  
  Me: “Thanks. Slow leak. I have a hand pump.”
  
  Military Dude: (Eyeballing the pocket knife clipped to my pants) :
  “That your EDC?” (Every Day Carry)
  
  Me: (Removing it and handing it over to him) “Here ya go.”
  ______
  Okay, so this is a “guy thing” and it led to a “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine” situation. (Only: not THAT kind you dirty-minded galoots.)
  
  This burly, stereotypical man-bot began divesting himself of an awe-inspiring arsenal of “defensive” weapons while I watched slack-jawed.
  
  He introduced himself.
  His name is Rothwell, but I momentarily thought he said “Roswell” and I glanced at his ear tips to check for Vulcan status.
  Eventually, he said his name was Weldon, but he went by the nickname: CRUNCH.
  
  Crunch Rothwell: “Glock 9”
  
  He had lifted his untucked shirt revealing the automatic weapon tucked into his waistband in front, pointing muzzle down at his poppycock.
  
  I winced inwardly.
  
  Crunch recited a litany of descriptions of the various hardware and began telling me how he’d been a Navy Seal and had worked on contract with the C.I.A.
  
  “I can’t talk about that...” he said --as he began talking about it.
  
  Every few sentences, he’d begin by saying, “The Good Lord gave us brains so’s we’d have the good sense to... “
  (Fill in the blank with cautionary advice about taking proper measures by purchasing expensive defensive gear.)
  Finally, he tossed it back to me with a half-smile, “What other gear ya got on you?”
  I reached into my various pockets and came up with a packet of rancid cashews.
  
  Me: “These are to protect me from deadly indigenous wildlife attacks.”
  
  His eyes got wide.
  
  Crunch: “Like...wha-a-a-t?”
  
  Me: “Aviary predators with scathingly brilliant tactical incursion techniques.”
  
  Crunch: “Um--I don’t follow you.”
  
  Me: “I can’t talk about that.” (I would be embarrassed to tell him about Edgar the Crow.)
  
  

  He stared at me a few seconds. Probably he was deciding whether or not I was insane or just mocking him.
  
  We sat in silence.
  Finally, I got up and excused myself. He nodded. As I placed my hand on the door pull, I stopped, half-turned and offered my own version of cautionary advice.
  
  “Say, Crunch--the Good Lord gave us brains so’s we’d tuck our Glock 9 in our rear pant waistband. You see, He in His infinite wisdom knows a pistol can sometimes discharge accidentally. Consequently, He hath provided a groove between our buttcheeks to prevent the bullet from injuring our corruptible flesh.”
  
  I flashed my most friendly smile and disappeared inside.
  
  Sure enough, I peeked through the glass as Crunch Rothwell transferred his Glock 9 to his rear waistband.
  
  I always say, “Pay it forward. One day you save your own ass and the next somebody else’s.”
  
  ________
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  7

  The punchline is tuna

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. experiences

  the punchline is "tuna".

  (excerpt from my autobiography, a funny thing happened on my way to armageddon).

  esther had very long, bright red hair like a disney character and she might have been almost attractive--if it weren't for two things.

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  TerryWalstrom

  I've been thinking about Esther and her daughter Vicki for the last 24 hours and curiosity has gotten the better of me. I am making inquiries.
  If I find out I will post the update.
• 
  17

  Man on the High Castle

  by Gorbatchov in

  1. jw
  2. friends

  g. was binge watching on amazon prime the serie the man on the high castle.

  because my interest in history subjects a good choice!

  what i mentioned was the family of john smith, the obergruppenfuhrer.

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  TerryWalstrom

  Man in the High Castle is one of the most compelling series I have EVER watched!
  The production values are off the charts; acting, photography, and music never less than top form.
  
  I'm very happy another Season has been approved.
  
  I would say--if you're only thinking about watch--sit down for at least the first 2 episodes.
  That will do it--you'll be hooked as I am.
  
  There is the world we live in and the world that we might have lived in if other choices were made we are all haunted by and the idea of merging these is fascinating.
• 
  7

  The punchline is tuna

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. experiences

  the punchline is "tuna".

  (excerpt from my autobiography, a funny thing happened on my way to armageddon).

  esther had very long, bright red hair like a disney character and she might have been almost attractive--if it weren't for two things.

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  2. 
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  TerryWalstrom

  Not that it matters in the least--but, I finally remembered her daughter's name. It was Vicky.
  
  Vicky was a "Princess". As I recall, she let her hair grow so long it was all the way down to the Australian Outback. Sort of another reason to grab attention as I reckoned it.
  
  When I departed Texas for California, I left all those Dubby "friends" to languish in the past.
  So I wonder what happened to them?
  Mostly they died off like some endangered species.
  
  They'd never grow old in this "Old System of things".
  How important we all felt back then...to be the very ones who'd see the Old pass away and the New World Order commence.
  
  This morning when I woke up I must have had some burp of memory spill over into my dream and Esther, Sister Esther was there again.
  
  My fellow JW, Johnny, and I used to make jokes about Sister Esther.
  
  Q: Why is Esther flat-chested?
  A: Not enough Esther Chin
  
  (Insert laugh)
• 
  7

  The punchline is tuna

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. jw
  2. experiences

  the punchline is "tuna".

  (excerpt from my autobiography, a funny thing happened on my way to armageddon).

  esther had very long, bright red hair like a disney character and she might have been almost attractive--if it weren't for two things.

  1. 
  2. 
  3. 
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  TerryWalstrom

  The Punchline is "Tuna"
  
  
  

  (Excerpt from my autobiography, A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON MY WAY TO ARMAGEDDON)

  Esther had very long, bright red hair like a Disney character and she might have been almost attractive--if it weren't for two things.

  1. She was awful

  2. She had no chin.

  I mean, just don't look at her in profile. That's what I mean.

  I, on the other hand, have a magnificent chin. Consequently, we were foreordained to become natural enemies.

  She was Esther Brown. Sister Brown to all JW's.

  When her husband died she discovered he was well-insured and she was suddenly very wealthy. Moreso than ever before.

  Unlike most of the members of our local congregation, Esther lived the high life. New, sleek cars, sparkly bracelets, and frequent trips to exotic lands set Esther and her daughter apart from mere mortals.

  She was, on her best day, awful.

  I said, her BEST day.

  The daughter was even worse, IMHO.

  We were Jehovah's Witnesses and it was 1960. The religion was a wee bit different than today. We could have picnics and parties back then.

  Esther Brown threw lavish parties! Big show-offy parties.

  I was invited even though painfully shy. (Esther was required to invite EVERY JW, you see.)

  I was a wallflower. My best friend, Johnny Santa Cruz was the opposite. He was loud, funny, and knew how to create a vortex in the Space-Time fabric of the Universe.

  I sat in his shadow whispering one-liners which he'd repeat and get big laughs. (I played the role of Cyrano.)

  I guess you could say I was an apprentice to Johnny, under-study for the role of LIFE OF THE PARTY.

  "How does he managed to be the center of attention?"

  I wondered scientifically whilst quietly making it my scheme to achieve a breakout performance someday.

  These JW parties inevitably devolved into parlor games and I never participated. Too shy.

  So...

  Sister Esther Brown singled me out. At a quiet moment, she stood in front of one and all and pointed to me and spoke in a "stage whisper" (so everyone could hear).

  "If you're not going to join in with the rest of us, Terry, why do you even bother to show up at my party?"

  _______

  Red-faced embarrassment stunned me.

  All eyes on me.

  Today I'd have a quick retort--not so back then.

  I shrugged like the big schlub I truly was.

  However...I plotted revenge...a dish best served cold, as they say.

  ________

  Shortly after my being "called out", I slunk away and walked home from the festivities. I was pleased with myself and the dish served cold I'd left behind.

  Fast-forward a month or so.

  Esther Brown, self-important Sister Brown, was complaining about how she would have to sell her house. Oh, how she loved her house--but it had become uninhabitable!

  Real Estate agents couldn't even show the house until the problem was solved.

  Not until her furniture was moved into storage did an improvement commence.

  Sister Brown and her snotty daughter went on a trip to China in the meantime...remaining for a month.

  The house sold.

  Sister Brown returned--with a NEW HUSBAND!

  He was a Chinese Jehovah's Witness.

  We all shook his hand (secretly feeling sorry for his destiny.)

  Well, can you guess?

  He had a strong personality and ruled over his wife with a hand of iron.

  She meekly obeyed.

  Wow!

  They built a new home.

  Out of storage came the old furniture.

  A horror of horrors! The old "problem" was back!

  You see--there was an incredible STENCH which would not

  go away. A sort of Old Testament plague.

  Perhaps it was DEMONS!

  Professionals were brought in to determine the cause.

  Not the sofa.

  Not the curtains.

  Not the mattresses or rugs or pillows.

  That only left the curtain rods...big brass curtain rods with the end pieces removed revealing putrifying contents.

  The punch line is Tuna Fish.

  Tuna casserole, to be exact.

  I think I had read about this in a book or maybe a film.

  I can't recall exactly. Maybe I thought of it myself on the spot during the party.

  58 years have passed and memory fades, you see.

  Our story has a happy ending, of course.

  Sister Esther Brown had a long and happy marriage to her second husband, Wang Chin.

  Yes! Finally, Esther had a Chin.

  And I had my revenge.

  ______

  
  
• 
  15

  Terry's Editorial on the Pledge of Allegiance

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. watchtower
  2. beliefs

  terry's editorial on the pledge of allegiance_____.

  can one child in a thousand actually define the word or give the meaning of "allegiance?

  " can you--without stumbling around about it?give me a moment of your time, will you?first, in medieval times, wealthy landowners allowed peasants to cultivate their property as long as these pitiful souls made a pledge of fealty or allegiance to become a soldier for that lord of the manor if he needed to go to war against some imagined enemy.

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  TerryWalstrom

  The phrase, "...a fighting A.I. army" sends chills...
• 
  15

  Terry's Editorial on the Pledge of Allegiance

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. watchtower
  2. beliefs

  terry's editorial on the pledge of allegiance_____.

  can one child in a thousand actually define the word or give the meaning of "allegiance?

  " can you--without stumbling around about it?give me a moment of your time, will you?first, in medieval times, wealthy landowners allowed peasants to cultivate their property as long as these pitiful souls made a pledge of fealty or allegiance to become a soldier for that lord of the manor if he needed to go to war against some imagined enemy.

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  TerryWalstrom

  I wonder what other countries have similar to our own Pledge? I'll have to do some research.
• 
  15

  Terry's Editorial on the Pledge of Allegiance

  by TerryWalstrom in

  1. watchtower
  2. beliefs

  terry's editorial on the pledge of allegiance_____.

  can one child in a thousand actually define the word or give the meaning of "allegiance?

  " can you--without stumbling around about it?give me a moment of your time, will you?first, in medieval times, wealthy landowners allowed peasants to cultivate their property as long as these pitiful souls made a pledge of fealty or allegiance to become a soldier for that lord of the manor if he needed to go to war against some imagined enemy.

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  TerryWalstrom

  It is for these very reasons, I believe, we have new generations of very cynical kids.
  Finally, the curtain pulls back and the death's head peers back at them demanding fealty and they demur.
  It isn't a virtue to demur, it is an act of self-interest. The good kind.
  Our newspapers and news media have been bought with corporate money and politics is as much a servant of money as it has ever been. Who is left to refuse war?
  War is just GREAT for industry.
  The same billionaires own a piece of all the above.
  Our kids will die for Apple, Amazon, MSNBC, and General Electric.
  Now that is a Pledge of Allegiance I can't wait to hear.