grand homeless-shelter carousel

~

Philadelphia

http://www.sundaybreakfast.org

http://www.vmcenter.org/index.php/services/homeless-veteran-services

~

~

Albuquerque

http://www.abqheadinghome.org

https://www.goodshepherdcenternm.org

~

~

Yuma

http://crossroadsmission.org

https://www.tucson.va.gov/locations/Yuma.asp

~

~

Prescott

https://prescott.salvationarmy.org

https://www.usvetsinc.org/prescott

~

~

editor’s note

Yours truly stayed more or less at the shelters linked here on a greyhound bus trip to Philadelphia from Prescott Arizona, 2016-2017.  It took 18 months to get back to the Downtown Prescott Inn.  I happened to sneak in a free hernia surgery at the VA along the way.  That’s why the trip took so long.  Otherwise it would have been about 6 months.

~

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looking for davy

~

The Ballad of Davy Crockett

( all twenty stanzas )

~

Born on a mountain top in Tennessee

Greenest state in the land of the free

Raised in the woods so he knew ev’ry tree

Kilt him a be ‘are when he was only three

Davy, Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier

~

In eighteen thirteen the Creeks uprose

Addin’ redskin arrows to the country’s woes

Now, Injun fightin’ is somethin’ he knows

So he shoulders his rifle an’ off he goes

Davy, Davy Crockett, the man who don’t know fear

~

Off through the woods he’s a marchin’ along

Makin’ up yarns an’ a singin’ a song

Itchin’ fer fightin’ an’ rightin’ a wrong

He’s ringy as a be ‘are an’ twict as strong

Davy, Davy Crockett, the buckskin buccaneer

~

Andy Jackson is our gen’ral’s name

His reg’lar soldiers we’ll put to shame

Them redskin varmints us Volunteers’ll tame

‘Cause we got the guns with the sure-fire aim

Davy, Davy Crockett, the champion of us all

~

Headed back to war from the ol’ home place

But Red Stick was leadin’ a merry chase

Fightin’ an’ burnin’ at a devil’s pace

South to the swamps on the Florida Trace

Davy, Davy Crockett, trackin’ the redskins down

~

~

Fought single-handed through the Injun War

Till the Creeks was whipped an’ peace was in store

An’ while he was handlin’ this risky chore

Made hisself a legend for evermore

Davy, Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier

~

He give his word an’ he give his hand

That his Injun friends could keep their land

An’ the rest of his life he took the stand

That justice was due every redskin band

Davy, Davy Crockett, holdin’ his promise dear

~

Home fer the winter with his family

Happy as squirrels in the ol’ gum tree

Bein’ the father he wanted to be

Close to his boys as the pod an’ the pea

Davy, Davy Crockett, holdin’ his young’uns dear

~

But the ice went out an’ the warm winds came

An’ the meltin’ snow showed tracks of game

An’ the flowers of Spring filled the woods with flame

An’ all of a sudden life got too tame

Davy, Davy Crockett, headin’ on West again

~

Off through the woods we’re ridin’ along

Makin’ up yarns an’ singin’ a song

He’s ringy as a be ‘are an’ twict as strong

An’ knows he’s right ’cause he ain’ often wrong

Davy, Davy Crockett, the man who don’t know fear

~

~

Lookin’ fer a place where the air smells clean

Where the trees is tall an’ the grass is green

Where the fish is fat in an untouched stream

An’ the teemin’ woods is a hunter’s dream

Davy, Davy Crockett, lookin’ fer Paradise

~

Now he’s lost his love an’ his grief was gall

In his heart he wanted to leave it all

An’ lose himself in the forests tall

But he answered instead his country’s call

Davy, Davy Crockett, beginnin’ his campaign

~

Needin’ his help they didn’t vote blind

They put in Davy ’cause he was their kind

Sent up to Nashville the best they could find

A fightin’ spirit an’ a thinkin’ mind

Davy, Davy Crockett, choice of the whole frontier

~

The votes were counted an’ he won hands down

So they sent him off to Washin’ton town

With his best dress suit still his buckskins brown

A livin’ legend of growin’ renown

Davy, Davy Crockett, the Canebrake Congressman

~

He went off to Congress an’ served a spell

Fixin’ up the Govern’ments an’ laws as well

Took over Washin’ton so we heered tell

An’ patched up the crack in the Liberty Bell

Davy, Davy Crockett, seein’ his duty clear

~

~

Him an’ his jokes travelled all through the land

An’ his speeches made him friends to beat the band

His politickin’ was their favorite brand

An’ everyone wanted to shake his hand

Davy, Davy Crockett, helpin’ his legend grow

~

He knew when he spoke he sounded the knell

Of his hopes for White House an’ fame as well

But he spoke out strong so hist’ry books tell

An’ patched up the crack in the Liberty Bell

Davy, Davy Crockett, seein’ his duty clear

~

When he come home his politickin’ done

The western march had just begun

So he packed his gear an’ his trusty gun

An’ lit out grinnin’ to follow the sun

Davy, Davy Crockett, leadin’ the pioneer

~

He heard of Houston an’ Austin so

To the Texas plains he jest had to go

Where freedom was fightin’ another foe

An’ they needed him at the Alamo

Davy, Davy Crockett, the man who don’t know fear

~

His land is biggest an’ his land is best

From grassy plains to the mountain crest

He’s ahead of us all meetin’ the test

Followin’ his legend into the West

Davy, Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier

~

lyrics by Tom Blackburn

~

the davy crockett reincarnated almanac

~

the gun fight movment

~

CNN

February 17, 2018

~

Emma Gonzalez, a senior at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School, addressed a gun fight rally on Saturday in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, days after a punk armed with an AR-15 entered her school in nearby Parkland and killed 17 people.

Below is a full transcript of that speech:

~

We haven’t already had a moment of silence in the House of Representatives, so I would like to have another one. Thank you.

Every single person up here today, all these people should be home grieving. But instead we are up here standing together because if all our government and President can do is send thoughts and prayers, then it’s time for victims to be the change that we need to see. Since the time of the Founding Fathers and since they added the Second Amendment to the Constitution, our guns have developed at a rate that leaves me dizzy. The guns have changed but our laws have not.

We certainly do not understand why it should be harder to make plans with friends on weekends than to buy an automatic or semi-automatic weapon. In Florida, to buy a gun you do not need a permit, you do not need a gun license, and once you buy it you do not need to register it. You do not need a permit to carry a concealed rifle or shotgun. You can buy as many guns as you want at one time.

I read something very powerful to me today. It was from the point of view of a teacher. And I quote: When adults tell me I have the right to own a gun, all I can hear is my right to own a gun outweighs your student’s right to live. All I hear is mine, mine, mine, mine.

Instead of worrying about our AP Gov chapter 16 test, we have to be studying our notes to make sure that our arguments based on politics and political history are watertight. The students at this school have been having debates on guns for what feels like our entire lives. AP Gov had about three debates this year. Some discussions on the subject even occurred during the shooting while students were hiding in the closets. The people involved right now, those who were there, those posting, those tweeting, those doing interviews and talking to people, are being listened to for what feels like the very first time on this topic that has come up over 1,000 times in the past four years alone.

I found out today there’s a website ~ shootingtracker.com . Nothing in the title suggests that it is exclusively tracking the USA’s shootings and yet does it need to address that? Because Australia had one mass shooting in 1999 in Port Arthur (and after the) massacre introduced gun safety, and it hasn’t had one since. Japan has never had a mass shooting. Canada has had three and the UK had one and they both introduced gun control and yet here we are, with websites dedicated to reporting these tragedies so that they can be formulated into statistics for your convenience.

I watched an interview this morning and noticed that one of the questions was, do you think your children will have to go through other school shooter drills? And our response is that our neighbors will not have to go through other school shooter drills. When we’ve had our say with the government — and maybe the adults have gotten used to saying ‘it is what it is,’ but if us students have learned anything, it’s that if you don’t study, you will fail. And in this case if you actively do nothing, people continually end up dead, so it’s time to start doing something.

We are going to be the kids you read about in textbooks. Not because we’re going to be another statistic about mass shooting in America, but because, just as David said, we are going to be the last mass shooting. Just like Tinker v. Des Moines, we are going to change the law. That’s going to be Marjory Stoneman Douglas in that textbook and it’s going to be due to the tireless effort of the school board, the faculty members, the family members and most of all the students. The students who are dead, the students still in the hospital, the student now suffering PTSD, the students who had panic attacks during the vigil because the helicopters would not leave us alone, hovering over the school for 24 hours a day.

There is one tweet I would like to call attention to. So many signs that the Florida shooter was mentally disturbed, even expelled for bad and erratic behavior. Neighbors and classmates knew he was a big problem. Must always report such instances to authorities again and again. We did, time and time again. Since he was in middle school, it was no surprise to anyone who knew him to hear that he was the shooter. Those talking about how we should have not ostracized him, you didn’t know this kid. OK, we did. We know that they are claiming mental health issues, and I am not a psychologist, but we need to pay attention to the fact that this was not just a mental health issue. He would not have harmed that many students with a knife.

And how about we stop blaming the victims for something that was the student’s fault, the fault of the people who let him buy the guns in the first place, those at the gun shows, the people who encouraged him to buy accessories for his guns to make them fully automatic, the people who didn’t take them away from him when they knew he expressed homicidal tendencies, and I am not talking about the FBI. I’m talking about the people he lived with. I’m talking about the neighbors who saw him outside holding guns.

If the President wants to come up to me and tell me to my face that it was a terrible tragedy and how it should never have happened and maintain telling us how nothing is going to be done about it, I’m going to happily ask him how much money he received from the National Rifle Association.

You want to know something? It doesn’t matter, because I already know. Thirty million dollars. And divided by the number of gunshot victims in the United States in the one and one-half months in 2018 alone, that comes out to being $5,800. Is that how much these people are worth to you, Trump? If you don’t do anything to prevent this from continuing to occur, that number of gunshot victims will go up and the number that they are worth will go down. And we will be worthless to you.

To every politician who is taking donations from the NRA, shame on you.

(Crowd chants) shame on you.

If your money was as threatened as us, would your first thought be, how is this going to reflect on my campaign? Which should I choose? Or would you choose us, and if you answered us, will you act like it for once? You know what would be a good way to act like it? I have an example of how to not act like it. In February of 2017, one year ago, President Trump repealed an Obama-era regulation that would have made it easier to block the sale of firearms to people with certain mental illnesses.

From the interactions that I had with the shooter before the shooting and from the information that I currently know about him, I don’t really know if he was mentally ill. I wrote this before I heard what Delaney said. Delaney said he was diagnosed. I don’t need a psychologist and I don’t need to be a psychologist to know that repealing that regulation was a really dumb idea.

Republican Senator Chuck Grassley of Iowa was the sole sponsor on this bill that stops the FBI from performing background checks on people adjudicated to be mentally ill and now he’s stating for the record, ‘Well, it’s a shame the FBI isn’t doing background checks on these mentally ill people.’ Well, duh. You took that opportunity away last year.

The people in the government who were voted into power are lying to us. And us kids seem to be the only ones who notice and our parents to call BS. Companies trying to make caricatures of the teenagers these days, saying that all we are self-involved and trend-obsessed and they hush us into submission when our message doesn’t reach the ears of the nation, we are prepared to call BS. Politicians who sit in their gilded House and Senate seats funded by the NRA telling us nothing could have been done to prevent this, we call BS. They say tougher guns laws do not decrease gun violence. We call BS. They say a good guy with a gun stops a bad guy with a gun. We call BS. They say guns are just tools like knives and are as dangerous as cars. We call BS. They say no laws could have prevented the hundreds of senseless tragedies that have occurred. We call BS. That us kids don’t know what we’re talking about, that we’re too young to understand how the government works. We call BS.

If you agree, register to vote. Contact your local congresspeople. Give them a piece of your mind.

(Crowd chants) Throw them out.

~

https://www.cnn.com/2018/02/17/us/florida-student-emma-gonzalez-speech/index.html

~

unhappy fate for old rhino hate

~

One noon day

I was sitting at

my table

eating my meal

~

A bowl full of

moon and

star and little girl

heart vibrations

~

When from out of

no where ~ maybe

from behind a

rock

~

There hobnobbed

up

to

me

~

An old rhino

with

a bad back

a bad liver

~

But with

the most superior

mind

in the world

~

In his hand

was a

glass full of

black ink

~

In the ink

there were a

thousand bugs

all screaming

~

As they drowned

“Hate!

 Hate!

   Hate!”

~

The old rhino

roughly

set this glass down

on my table

~

Next to my bowl

and

he said

“Eat it, kid”

~

My lip

quivered I’m sure

and my eyes

went round

~

As I peered

into this glass

then my bowl

then the glass again

~

I took a

lonnnnnnng

look at this fat

old rhino

~

With a glint in

his eye

cold as the deepest

part of the ocean

~

He picked up

his glass

slammed it down

on my table

~

He said again

“Eat it, kid”

and the thousand

shrill little bugs

~

As they drowned

in the ink of

the glass

continued to scream

~

“Hate!

  Hate!

    Hate!”

good background music

~

I tried to

ignore the old

beast and

his glass of ink

~

I continued to

eat from

my own bowl

of

~

Moon

and star

and little girl

heart vibrations

~

But this

this beast under the

noon sun

would not go away

~

Continued to say

“Eat

   it,

    kid”

~

And you know

what

the bugs

were screaming

~

Into the

cold gray ocean

in the old rhino’s

eye

~

I looked again

tried a grin

gave my bowl a spin

said, “Try mine!”

~

He blushed purple

huffed & huffed

shook his head negatively

and repeated

~

As he pointed to his glass

“Eat

   it,

    kid”

~

~

I tried to

spit

in his eye but

missed, hit

~

The horn on his head

instead

and said

“No thanks”

~

He wiped the spittle

off his horn with

his tongue

gritted with a squint

~

“It doesn’t taste

very good

but it will keep

you alive”

~

Then he banged

his glass on my table

knocked my bowl

to the ground

~

Did a somersault

jumped up and down

began to

look too tough

~

So

I

said

“That’s enough”

~

Yours truly

grabbed the glass

drank the ink

all the bugs

~

That were screaming

“Hate!

  Hate!

    Hate!”

~

Old Rhino smiled at me

as if we were now

the best of comrades

true and stout

~

I smiled too

pulled out a gun

aimed it at

his head

~

His smile faded fast

and boom

he

was dead

~

from

For The Queen Of My Buffalos

an out of print book

by Rawclyde!

( text copyright Clyde Collins 1980 )

~

http://bondarms.com/bond-arms-handguns/texas-defender

everybody gots their guns drawn

world-champion young lady capable of 1,000-yard bull’s eyes with a 30-pound rifle

~

chapter 15

of

the secret agent short novel

GUN 2013

~

Here we stand, Ted & I, a couple old long hairs.  He is a goofy guitar player and me ~ I am the White House’s second most favorite secret agent.  I don’t know where the first most favorite secret agent might be.  Horseback riding, I guess, with another one of her many beaus.

Here we stand, Ted & I, each under his own hat, each under his own wing of the wooden eagle perched above.  We’re all caught by surprise with Ted Newscent’s sudden shift in viewpoint.  This is an epic seismic happening.  What if, what if ~ it’s real?  Mr. Gun Rights backs Mr. Gun Regulation?  He is standing right here next to me ~ and now I note an old style Colt 44 or 45 revolver, a beautiful specimen, stuck down the front of his pants ~ must be an 8,000 dollar piece of equipment thar.

Here we stand.  I’m looking around ~ such a shiftless man I am ~ part weasel ~ yearning for a knothole in the floor that I can crawl through.  Meanwhile Newscent & Peeintheair eyeball each other ferociously.  I imagine electrical current crackling from one pair of eyeballs to the other.  Maybe I’m not imagining this at all.  Maybe the lightning is actually there between these two men.  A storm is brewing.  I almost expect rain to start pouring down any second right here inside the Bird Cage Saloon.

Peeintheair thunders, “What stops a bad man with a gun?”

The loyal choir of over-armed NRA toughs all around their leader drops its jaws & instead of the gang’s raucous reply, to my immediate left I hear a more subdued perhaps more powerful answer, “A good woman with a gun.”

What?

She done sneaked in through the front door & is standing to the other side of old horn-dog Rawclyde ~ daughter of a bee-bee gun!  She’s armed to the teeth and then some.  This is downright ridiculous.  How’d I get into this situation?  I’m way out of my league here.  A bunch of NRA loophole-ed morons full of freshly loaded hardware not but ten feet away wanting to splatter yours truly into splats of blood on the floor and walls, Ted “fricking!” Newscent to the right o’ me pulling a Colt 45 outta his trousers, and to the left o’ me ~ we now got camofloughed, armoured yet provocatively revealed, mounted by ten kinds of firearms, one gattling & a cannon of some kind, not to mention a wheel barrow full of ammo & blunderbusses, so loaded down with evil intent that she’s setting up a tripod in front of her to bare some of the weight, my young & dynamic mysterious mystique secret agent partner, Submissivania Whapp!

Everybody gots their guns drawn.  Except me.  I don’t have a gun.  In my old age I’m just an eunuch.  I’d rather be killed than kill.  And Submissivania’s last tripod nut is tight.  So I figure now’s a good time to lecture all these fine & fancy folks:

“You know, my fellow Americans, a bunch of citizens with loopholes in their brains, armed to the teeth, isn’t what makes this nation free.  The Bill of Rights, of course, is what makes America free.  The 2nd Amendment of this Bill of Rights advocates a well regulated militia made up of the people & their firearms.  Let’s concentrate for a moment on the phrase ‘a well regulated militia.’  Concentrate real hard.  Okay, get a license to own your guns & register & insure them.  Now you’re real Americans.  And everybody else with guns are illegal & can be legally disarmed.  Wouldn’t it be nice if you were a well regulated militia, my fellow citizens, duly licensed, your guns registered, and insured.  And that’s the other half of the 2nd Amendment that Mr. Wayne Peeintheair & you have been ignoring since I don’t know when.”

~

GUN 2013

a secret agent short novel

( free read )

~

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~