September 2008 - Not exactly sure why I write here every month - just know that it is a kind of
compulsion that somehow gives me great pleasure.  It is like a journal - but not like a journal -
because it is not private.  I know when I write here that someone else may read this; in fact, I am
probably hoping that someone will.  I will most likely avoid direct criticism of individuals, unless
their behavior is just so out of bounds that it cannot be ignored.
 I don't do "blogging", which is, as I understand it, sort of an interactive electronic journal where
you post your thoughts and invite others to comment in response.  It seems like a harmless
activity, but I warn my students that to bare their souls in that kind of medium may not be good
for future employment.  Many employers search the internet for things like this before hiring new
applicants.  Certainly any sort of communication that is published in any manner is open to
response or rebuttal, but the instant nature of the blog makes it more like conversation.  This
would probably be okay, if only your friends and family were the readers.  Unfortunately, your
"stuff" is literally out there for the world to see.
 Another view of blogging might say that it is for those folks that don't have enough real live
friends that are available for face to face conversation.  Oh, but they would say, "we don't have
time for all of that social contact."  And just how much time do you spend in front of a computer
terminal?  A LOT - and that estimate may not come close to the reality.
So, enough of my rambling - what happened this month?

 In re-reading this I realize that I did not finish this section.  Will get back to it ASAP.

September 1979 - There was a firm called the "Lawn Doctor" that provided fertilization and
pest control.  I commented that the Lawn Doctor came down our street, inspected our lawn, and
performed an autopsy.  The joke was later expanded to calling the Lawn Priest.
Madalyn Murray O'Hair filed suit against Pope John Paul II for proclaiming the existence of
God.  At the time I said that the agony of the atheist is the uncomfortable feeling that there's no
one out there who cares what he or she thinks or does.  I am no longer sure that atheists are so
uncomfortable - just different.
The big news at this time of year in 1979 was the big
bailout of the Chrysler Corporation.  
Does that sound familiar?  In retrospect it seems to have had a happy ending, but foreign
competition and the greed of unions continue to plague the car maker.   Back then I had this to
say about that:

RHYME FOR OUR TIME

Plymouth is a symbol of national pride, a very historic rock;
but the tide of inflation has covered it up - it can't be seen from the dock.

A cry goes out from Chrysler that's heard throughout the land:
"Help us save our Plymouth rock, and pull us out of the sand.

We're just a poor conglomerate, used to living high and dry.
Help us now, Great Uncle; don't let our dream world die.

It's taken years to get on top; for mistakes we ask your forgiving.
If we lay off our union force, they might have to work for a living.

We're not trying to DODGE our debts; just give us time to pay.
We only need two billion or so; you could print it in less than a day."

Will Jimmy and his cocaine cohorts respond to the Chrysler cry?
Will they revive the dying giant or simply let it die?

The answer to this riddle is written in the stars;
It's obvious that ALL this nation needs is more cats and dogs and cars.