Monday, May 23, 2016

~ ... And They Lived Happily Ever After~!

My wife &I have everything that both/each of us have always wanted:  A baby.

Through all the years of being a Malcontent, Locally,
I've expressed my truest feelings here on this blog:  Sometimes allowing some offensive comments or gestures to get past for a few moments, too (mostly about Cardinal baseball or OU football or Shrillary).
Those things I'm embarrassed by, but I did feel that sentiment (at least momentarily), once upon a time.

I've threatened to quit this bloggie before.
I've quit and then returned to this bloggie before.
   And for the last two weeks, I've wondered if I could decently maintain this bloggie now and into an uncertain future,
when our lives have been Blessed and Hyper-activated by our Creator, God, now that Kelsey is really, really and truly, here with us.  (since my rebirth)
My devotion to our new family 
will be non-pareil; 
Shoot, we've come 
this far ..., why not? 
All I've ever wanted to be, is
what I've been for ONE WEEK
already, a daddy.  

And so, dear friends, FAREWELL.  I won't delete "The Local Malcontent" from the Web, 
because (1) I may think of some comment to say about some thing some day, 
and (2) I feel like I made an impact of some kind, over the past 8-1/2 years here.  For the future generations, you might say.
You Must Know that I always felt both fortunate and blessed to have hade your readership-- I've made many extraordinary friends through this medium, and that's so rare.  Well Done~!

But either way, my life's winding vine must/needs-to go in a better direction, despite the mere 20-odd minutes that this bloggie took to compose at a time, from days past.  That's 20-odd minutes that I can now use rocking my daughter to sleep.

And so, on behalf of my wife Leticia, our daughter Kelsey Lois, all the Choctaws in/around Yanush, Talihina and now Poteau, Oklahoma, whom you've gotten to know a little through me here; please continue to pray for God's Blessings for our nation, The United States of America,

I love this place, but it's time to go.  Farewell~!

Your Former Malcontent, 
extending love, joy and peace ,


Saturday, May 21, 2016

Meet Kelsey Lois Malcontent ~!!

I'm VERY pleased to introduce to the world, our daughter KELSEY LOIS, 
born at 9:16 am, Monday, May 16, 2016.  
The 16's Rule, Baby~!

She's perfect, She's PERFECT~~
she's just the most unbelievable thing, when she was born, she did not cry, .... 
she sang a song, like cooing at her birth, eager to greet the world

I fed her her first meal, since then it's been mostly Mama's job, little Kelsey Lois has an appitite~! every four to five hours~!


Leticia's a Mommy~!  I'M A DADDY~!!
i feel like I'm Abraham, the patriarch~!'
And we dedicate Kelsey to HIS Glory

But enough about US....

let's get to the good stuff~!!


Friday, May 20, 2016

Hiroshima- thousand cranes

For my Mom and Dad, and my grandparents, may they rest in Peace, Here's you a granbaby

Sublime Joy. Finally.

We have a healthy, hungry baby girl.

Kelsey Lois was born last Monday, May 16,

at  9:16 am

I was reborn the same moment.

We're all back home now, as of last night, Thursday.  To a waiting crowd including Leticia's sister and father, Rachael and Kenneth Hunter (Kelsey's auntie and grandaddy), both who were on hand in Talihina Monday as Kelsey was brought into this world, and my best friend Marty and his wife Gail from Yanush~  WE had a houseparty welcoming this special little/big girl into this world

My little girl MY LITTLE GIRL 
weighed 7 pounds, 13 oz, and is 18-1/2 inches tall.  She's beautiful, she's perfect, she's healthy and man is she got an appitite~!  Every four hours.  I've got to feed her too, and change diapers already.  I've burped my baby like they trained me to, gently, rocking her, settling her.

Does it get any better than this?  
Leticia is just fine, she's still staying in bed for now through the weekend, thanks to Rachael.  We are so happy, so blessed, so overjoyed~!!!  this little girl is our legacy, our progeny, our future.......  and our prayers answered, thank YOU, GOD, thank you JESUS.

I promise to post a photo of Kelsey here when we can-- NOW, we have a very good reason to finally buy a camera, so get ready Internet.

Friday, May 13, 2016

About Blank ~

sublime joy.  finally,, solace. i'm crazy and cant be still

Beautiful Dreamer

Just the Two of Us

~ And God.

We Did It.

We Made A Baby.

Wednesday, May 11, 2016


May Snowfall in Garth's Yard

Garth lives just Northeast of Boseman, Montana.
Here's a link to a time lapse video of this snowfall last night~

I'm posting stuff like this because Ted Cruz withdrew from 
the Repulsive Republican Presidential primary, 
leaving Donald Trump as the last man standing--
and I'm becoming antsy/nervous as Hell

But Next Week Should SURE be different around here~

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Sailor's Hornpipe ( accordion )

In my never ending Quest to answer that eternal question, "What is the name of that familiar tune?", at least in my own noggin, and also to provide a public service to all 24 of my blog's readers, here is the name of that familiar tune, who's title you didn't know:

Oh man, I'm thinking about preparing some seafood for our supper now!  Wonder what that will be?

"Sunny and 75°, Everywhere"

The Radar maps at , an amalgamation of General Electric and NBC-TV,
 are down right now, falsely claiming that it is sunny in your own backyard right now, 7:00 pm, Tuesday, May 10.  See?

Thank Goodness for , which only shows 
the reality of the situation:

An Answer to My 'Ponderism', Finally

It was over 8 years ago, when I posed a ponderism question here, "What size parachute would a skydiving midget use?"

That ponderism got the whole world curious, and a couple of brave, little men have shown us all the answer is neither of the two (ignorant) possibilities which I had thought--

Instead, they both came up with their own, novel solution to midget skydiving:  They attach a normal-sized person to their bodies first, then jump out of an airplane with a normal-sized parachute.  
    ((But this still doesn't answer my original ponderism, about what size parachute ....)) 

Watch and enjoy as these small men do what I am scared to death to do:

Sunday, May 8, 2016


I cannot begin to tell you what this Day means to me, to Leticia 
and to us This Year:

This event is something we both understood from before our marriage, 8 years ago,
that probably wouldn't happen for us.
And we both were OK with that.

That was then.  Now we are literally bouncing off the walls 
(Me at least am)
at what is about to happen in our lives....

Literally A Miracle from God, 
A Baby~~~~~!!!


I Don't Mow the Lawn on Sundays

The grass is as high as an elephant's eye, 
but when I said "Never on Sunday" I did not lie

When I was a little boy, my very first job was to mow the lawn.  With a push mower fortunately, but still my parent's yard was nearly a full acre.  I got $5.00 for the job.  When I would finish, I would find a five-dollar bill laying on the washing machine next to the back door for me (my old man was a silent, mean guy-- that's why I never talk about him much).  That was as personal as it ever got between us-- laying cash on the washing machine for me to pick up.

And it became understood very early, by me, that when I started mowing, I had to finish the job that day, in that moment-- or there would be Hell to pay in the way of a whipping by my father.

That's why, I continued to mow the backyard grass once, in a rainstorm:  Remembering my dad's wrath and his quick use of his belt on my butt.  

But maybe, God Intervened that particular day,

when lightning struck a Pine tree in our front yard.  I remember that I bolted away from the lawnmower, running inside as the terrible, loud clap of thunder rattled our house.  

My dad was sitting in the kitchen and I told him what I had seen outside, and he did not reply, because my mother became engaged in the conversation, saying, "Joe, you wouldn't try mowing in this weather yourself, so don't you say anything about the boy being afraid and coming in...  it's storming outside."

And sure enough, God DID play a hand in that act:  Because that particular lightning bolt which hit that Pine tree also hit my dad's Jeep, and destroyed its electrical wiring system.

After that, I felt confident to lay down some rules of my own regarding the mowing.... 
Never when I had a school-team sport later that day~
Never on Sunday~
and Never when it started to even rain as I mowed the lawn.

~like today....

Saturday, May 7, 2016

"Hectic" Doesn't Even Begin To Describe

Our world is about to change dramatically, and the lead-up to the day that our baby arrives has literally been filled from dawn to dusk with preparation and planning.  

(*and worrying and second-guessing, and nights with no sleep and unending days away from Letecia)

My wife and I are going to have this baby, God Willing, if it pleases/glorifies God, 
on Monday, May 16, in Talihina, Oklahoma.  
Mama is really having some late term issues with the baby's weight and with an infection, so our pediatrician has decided to induce labor that day, at 40 weeks and 2 days.
May 16.

Me?  I'm a nervous train wreck.  Haven't kept up with the world's business at all in about a month.
We have been told by several sources, professional and friends, that we're having a little girl~!!!!  

I hope she's a feisty daddy's girl~!~!

This all was written with tears of exquisite joy in my eyes, streaming ~

Tuesday, April 26, 2016


ANZAC (Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) Day is the anniversary of the landing of troops from Australia and New Zealand on the Gallipoli Peninsula, Turkey, in World War I on 4/25, 1915.

The bravery of all military personnel who participated in this campaign and the lives of those who died in all military actions are remembered.

Many ceremonies, parades and other activities are held on ANZAC Day to remember the lives of those who participated or died in military action, particularly on the Gallipoli Peninsula in World War I. Dawn prayer or church services are a particularly important aspect of ANZAC Day. These represent the comradeship that the soldiers experienced as they rose each morning to prepare for another day of military action. After the services, gunfire breakfast (coffee with rum in it) is often served.

In major cities and many smaller towns, parades, marches and reunions of current and past military personnel and memorial services are held. The fourth stanza or verse of a well-ßknown poem, known as The Ode, is read aloud at many ceremonies. The poem is called "For The Fallen" and was written by Laurence Binyon in 1914. It commemorates those who died and can never grow old.

"For The Fallen", by Laurence Binyon:

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables of home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England's foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Laurence Binyon composed his best known poem while sitting on the cliff-top looking out to sea from the dramatic scenery of the north Cornish coastline. A plaque marks the location at Pentire Point, north of Polzeath. However, there is also a small plaque on the East Cliff north of Portreath, further south on the same north Cornwall coast, which also claims to be the place where the poem was written.

The poem was written in mid September 1914, a few weeks after the outbreak of the First World War. During these weeks the British Expeditionary Force had suffered casualties following its first encounter with the Imperial German Army at the Battle of Mons on 23rd August, its rearguard action during the retreat from Mons in late August and the Battle of Le Cateau on 26th August, and its participation with the French Army in holding up the Imperial German Army at the First Battle of the Marne between 5th and 9th September 1914.

Laurence said in 1939 that the four lines of the fourth stanza came to him first. These words of the fourth stanza have become especially familiar and famous, having been adopted by the Royal British Legion as an Exhortation for ceremonies of Remembrance to commemorate fallen Servicemen and women.

Laurence Binyon was too old to enlist in the military forces but he went to work for the Red Cross as a medical orderly in 1916. He lost several close friends and his brother-in-law in the war.


It seems the southern plains are going to be under attack by Large Red Ls and squiggly Blue lines,
today and tonight, seek safety if conditions warrant~!

In addition to the tornado threat, instability in the atmosphere is very high, to the extent that supercell thunderstorm updrafts will be strong enough to support the growth of large hailstones.

While a study of hail reports over a 15-year period ending in 2004 by Jewell and Brimelow found 95 percent of hailstones are golf-ball (1.75 inch diameter) or smaller, today's supercells are likely to produce hail in that more rare 5 percent of stones, perhaps up to softball-size in the strongest storms.

Hail this size is likely to produce damage to vehicles, trees, perhaps roofs and siding, particularly if driven by strong thunderstorm winds. Here's a general rule of thumb for damage potential of hail (not including wind)s

Saturday, April 23, 2016

Just The Usual Talk, Nothin' Special

~ Times ten~   
Our conversations over the phone always go
Just Like This:

Me:  "Hallo, what are you up to?"

My Former Son, Dillon:  " Tryin to get over a hangover, man-"

Me:  "I know...."

Dillon:  "What, did I call you last night, too?"

Me:  "No, I just know,,,, you know"

Dillon:  " So what are you guys doin'?"

Me:  " I'm burning brush outside, that huge brushpile I told you about--?  And Leti is inside mopping the kitchen and the laundry room."

Dillon:  " Do you two miss me?"

Me:  "Where are you right now?"

Dillon:  " Oh, I'm with some friends, we're going over to H****'s house, he's got some weed~"

Me:  "  Our dog died yesterday~"

Dillon:  "  We gotta bad line, man, I .... can't hear .... anything .... say ....."

I hang Up, because it's no use with him.

"Feels So Good" Chuck Mangione

We've had just a really crappy week here;

1)  Real regrets about leaving Yanush, for Podo;

2)  My health hasn't rebounded like before:  I'm still ailing, lethargic and hacking, my lowest two right ribs still very sore;

3)  Our puppy died suddenly yesterday, from Parvovirus

(see 1, re: 'yard'):  

Buried him this morning, outside the fence;

4)  Now having to clean every Square Inch of our house

w/ Clorox Bleach

But, Chuck Mangione~!!

5)  Bills, bills, bills ....  All of a sudden, I can't afford a haircut~

6)  Donald Trump:  Shrillary Clitnon, America:

Fears, both Real and Imagined.

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

It's Not Funny 'Cause It's True

(I've been under the weather for the past week, unable to work until today, and not wanting to move really; thus, no new, original blog posts from me lately.  A bout of pneumonia, caused by my two fractured ribs.)

Lovingly lifted from, this stark comparison of two particular candidates for High Office, by Rick Wilson:

I’ve come to realize that the Obama Cult and the Trump Cult are two sides of the same personality-cult coin. The cognitive dissonance between what the Trump faction hated about Obama and what they love about Donald is so far beyond ironic it would take a team of trained linguists and semioticians decades to decode.

But I’ll try.

You hated Barack Obama’s cult-like followers, with their mindless stares of adoration, their impervious barrier between emotion and reason, and their instant fury when confronted with the facts about his record, his history, or his philosophy.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated Obama’s shallow, facile rhetoric, with its hollow promises and loose, lowest-common-denominator word-vomit disconnected from any real policy.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated how Obama was gleefully lying to credulous low information voters, filling them with empty promises of economic prosperity that would never come, based on plans that could never be achieved.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated how Obama lied about his positions on single-payer healthcare, gay marriage, gun control, and abortion to get elected, knowing that if he ever revealed the truth about what he believed that he’d be unelectable.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated how Obama rode the wave of constant attention from the mainstream media into office, and how they played along with his game, draining the life out of every other candidate by describing him as an inevitable juggernaut, an unstoppable political force, and a game-changer who was tapping into something deep and powerful in American political life.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated how Obama’s naive ignorance of the real and brutal world of international affairs was papered over by his hollow promises to make the world respect the United States again.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated Obama’s casual disdain for people who weren’t from a major city where, you know, all the rich, smart, educated, liberal people like him live.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated Obama’s elite credentialism, and how he yielded his Harvard and Columbia degrees to browbeat his aspiring-class opponents from outside the meritocracy, and how he used them to cow an already docile press.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated that smug, arrogant, sneering affect that took hold the moment he thought the cameras weren’t looking.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated Obama’s cadre of sleazy, weird, creepy advisers, with their combination of over-the-edge ideological fervor and their stench of petty corruption.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated Obama’s support for bail-outs, too-big-to-fail, and big, taxpayer-funded government intervention in dying industries.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated his comfy alliance with Harry Reid, Nancy Pelosi, and the odious Clinton crime family.

But you love it from Trump.

You hated his cavalier disdain for private property rights.

But you love it from Trump.

Everything that set your teeth on edge, and raised your hackles and made you loathe Barack Obama is there in Donald Trump. Every aspect of the con game Obama played on America in 2008 – the obsessive focus on one base issue (for Obama the war in Iraq, for Trump, Mexicans), the cult-like obsession, the instant attacks on apostates, the willful ignorance of his history and his beliefs – is present in Trump.

Everything you despised in Obama is there.

But you love it from Trump.