A Lazy Sort of Tuesday

Chap posted a great read today, all about Chief Ken Joyner, Submariner.

In 1950 America was segregated and unequal, though in New York there was token integration. Very naïve in the knowledge of racist treatment in the United States I went to 90 Church Street, the Federal Building in New York City. Raising my right hand and vowing to protect and defend, my Navy life began. Having passed the pre-requisite tests, unbeknownst to me I qualified with a group of pioneers. “The New Navy” Black men were being assembled to integrate the Navy for all men.

Read the whole thing. Courage comes in many forms, not the least of which is overcoming adversity the likes of which most people have never known.

Sometimes things work out like you want them to, or, at the very least, you find you’ve avoided a dicey situation or an outright catastrophe. Such was the case this morning when I awoke to find the propane gauge had reached the “Call Cortez Gas” level. And so I called. Only to hear the lovely Estella tell me that Albert just got his truck back yesterday after a week of downtime to have a new clutch installed. I think I posted about the trials and tribulations of finding an alternate supplier when Cortez is…uh…indisposed. The bottom line: it’s purt near impossible. But the state of my tank (full, diminishing to Call Cortez) just happened to coincide with Cortez’ downtime.

In which case: Thank You, Lord!

I’m still drinking coffee and making the rounds. And here it is: nearly noon. Damn but this retirement gig is stressful! {insert smiley face here}

Today’s Pic: Oh Hell…let’s do another Baby Pic. Coz…when all else fails, baby pictures don’t. Fail, that is. Bobby, aka SN3, in one of Micky Dee’s Play Palaces, somewhere in South Florida. Key Largo, I think, but wouldn’t bet my life on it.

March, 1998.