When Steve started working at Briggs,
He barely made enough to buy cigs
He confided in our mother
And likely many others
That it was worse than eatin’ waste from pigs

The foundry process is die cast
The heat from the furnace just blasts
Molten metal is shot
In the cast while it’s hot
And the die is cooled kinda fast.

Now, “Cooled” is a relative term
Its solid metal but it still burns
The operator trims
The parts from the limbs
For the meager wages he earns

They cast 6 pistons on a tree
Two little rows of three
They count your production
It’s simple deduction
If you can’t keep up, you’re set free.

Steve had the competition in tears
Cause he had practiced for years
Pluckin’ ‘lumin’ cans free
From a 6 hole plastic tree
He had honed these skills with BEERS!

It’s good he hadn’t spent the Eighties
Sippin’ wine coolers with the Ladies (like Dan)
Cause he’d be back at Packs
Sellin’ them Carpet tacks
Or hauling flat-bed loads of freight.

Steve knew that to get out of this pig sty
He’d need to do the job of the next guy
He made up a plan
To become setup man
That plan succeeded by and by.
 
He knows that we all benefit
When hard working staff don’t quit
As he rose through the ranks
He’d stop and give thanks
So the job didn’t stink like – -it.

Benefits are an employer’s snare
Peggy & the kids got insured, Briggs had Steve by the short hairs
It cost a pretty cent
A watershed event,
But he still won’t vote for universal health care.

Brigg’s Safety tape – Steve’s voice all through
All staff watched it when they were new
He said “If we can’t make these motors
For less than all the world over
Then we certainly won’t get to.” *
*Paraphrased. He was referring to the high cost of injury accidents & stiff competition from offshore production.

Steve knew where the casting were bossed
Proposed die cast changes to cut cost
His own changes he sees
In knock offs made overseas
On Steve the irony is not lost

32 years of a 30 mile commute
Is half a million miles out of the chute
On trucks, Steve likes to skimp
Makes Jed Clampett look like a pimp
I should know, I bought one to boot.

The miracle of today’s celebration
Has much to do with Steve’s transportation
Briggs has a strict 3 tardy rule
He’s on time? I’m no fool.
How did he ever get off of probation?

There’s a list of chores & stuff
For you to do, it’s enough
Your a bit behind
But you’ve got the time
You don’t have to drive to the Bluff

Pop pop, husband, Dad, mentor, brother
These titles you keep, you don’t need no other.
You’re needed on the farm
That won’t do no harm
It’s in your blood like a mother-

We are willing to part with our 29′ 1979 Winnebego. An interesting attribute is that it has a very solid roof that you could use for a variety of things. Storage, watching the NASCAR races, set the band up there or just read books like my daughter does. Do not attempt to jump on the roof of a modern RV, you’ll crash right through!

Click here to see our Craiglist post

Ode to Pat Fieser by Jim Fieser
Raphael and Viola, had a daughter they named Pat, around Kirkwood Missouri, where the land is not so flat Raphael’s health was bad, Dr. said “Seek Clean Air” They moved to Wilhelmina, not for managed health care. No buses, phone or fridge: Pat missed these luxuries. But after Rafe was gone, They owed no utilities. The day Pat turned 16, Against the wishes of her Mother, She moved to St. Louis To make money for the others. Finding work was tough, With so few qualifications She stretched the truth a bit On employment applications. One job she took was In a Hospital To the health profession She strongly felt the call Pat met Bob in her 20’s. Tom was a mutual friend, Told Pat a story of Bob’s conquests Bob said, “You believed him?” April 28, 1956 Our family got it’s start, Here in Wilhelmina At the church of Sacred Heart. Mary Lea was first born. But stayed not long with them. Then in a span of 5 years, Came Steve, Karen, Dan and Jim	They moved around a bit ‘Tween Memphis & St. Lou Lost the home of their dreams When the refrigerator blew. When she had the kids Away from a water source She would lick a Kleenex And wipe them down by force! She drove the bus & met trucks When they delivered The Club it’s ale. She was the very first woman To carry Dunklin Co. mail. She’d work a job and be nice, No matter how mean the boss, Trying to keep her family, Insured with that Blue Cross. She worked at Three Rivers. Later went to RN school there, She fell in ‘Disco Roller Skating’ And broke her derriere! 1 A 2 year degree makes passing The Nursing exam very hard, But Mom passed the first time, By knowing every drug card. She enjoyed the VA job on the Nursing Home Floor Was called to Hospice care Helping folks through their Final Door. She helped a lot of people Through Life’s Valley’s and Hills With loving care & concern, And her communication skills.
1True story. Three Rivers Community College offered thisclass for PE Credit and Mom broke her tailbone the first day.

As a child he was taunted, But he as able to transcend,
At Waffle House and Berkempers He sure made a lot of friends.

We left our PlayDoh cylinder on the table; wasn’t our fault,
That John stopped in & left a note, “This dough has too much salt.”

John liked to argue politics, In his attempt to educate,
If you agreed with his view, He’d switch to spur debate.

If you needed help from John, All you had to do was ask,
He taught me by example To accept most any task.

John took lots of jobs, That others wouldn’t take,
Told me if I quit college It’d be a huge mistake.

His faith in God drew him, To where daily mass was said,
He prayed not for himself, I think, But for each of us instead.

It’s not too late to ask John To help you with a favor,
There’s no doubt where he is now, With our Lord and Savior.

I got up early this morning, thinking about my bride of these 0.7 score years and jotted down these lines:

Early on in our marriage,
I worked, you pushed the carriage.
Later ABC,
Swung the ax at me,
Before retirement age.

We had said that we’d change roles,
You would work, I would bake rolls.
‘Problem with that map,
Is I ain’t cleaned crap,
Done Laundry, dish’s or killed moles.

Recruiters have been calling,
Opportunities’re falling.
B’ Tax & Insurance
Would eat the difference:
I should do chores where I’m stalling.

I know what I should do,
To make it up to you.
I’ll teach our 3 kids
To wash pots & lids-
We’ll be a cookin’ cleanin’ crew!

Happy Anniversary Ann!

Ann had our oldest son weigh the cat the other day. Kate aka “Baby Kitty” weighs in at over 17 lbs. Ann called her “Fat Cat”, but I covered her ears and said, “Don’t label her!”

Ann said the cat and I must have the same diet and exercise regimen. I said, “Hey, at least I started flushin’!”

We celebrated my parent’s 50th anniversary this weekend in Cape Girardeau. They had to drive up from Wilhelmina, but so many relatives now live in STL, and my brother and sister and their families are in Cape County, it just worked out great to be in Cape.

Aunt Lois commissioned the following poem from poet Vivian Barks. I wish I’d written it, but at least I was able to step up to the mike and read it aloud for our extended family nubering ~100.

A card I recieved in the mail today,
Saying a Golden Anniversary is on the way.
April 30th – it did say,
Come and Join us on this special day.
For Pat and Bob, both loving and kind,
A happier couple you could not find.
Fifty years – they have been as one,
April 28th – their new life begun.
Pat with her sweet and witty charm,
and Bob with his heart set on the farm.
Working together, side-by-side
Knowing their marriage would survive.
And to this union, God saw fit,
To put 4 childeren in the midst of it.
Three boys, one girl; bundles of joy
Was sent for Pat and Bob to enjoy.
To raise them in the nurture of God,
And teach them the right road to trod.
As in that love story long ago,
“Wherever thou goest – I will go”
Togather you’ve been through thick and thin,
To know you’ll endure to the end.
Life get’s better along the way,
When you put your faith in God each day.
So Congratulations! may I say,
As you celebrate this beautiful day.
“God Bless you both”, is my prayer,
And may “He” keep you in “His” care.

It was a great party with lots of friends and family we had not seen in years. My God-daughter had been up late assembling a slide show of old photos from an album my sister had put together. Brother Dan had plenty of tunes, a few from their wedding.

We had to pose for a few photos and as the crowd around Mom and Dad expanded to include more family someone thought we should turn sideways and form a smaller frame. Unfortunately, turning sideways didn’t help, in fact we had to step out a bit!

My oldest son had a great idea for an invention today. He even found a web site that takes invention ideas and typed it in. Trouble was that the web site required users to be 18 and he’s just 11, so they wouldn’t take it. I think it’s a fine idea, so I’m going to publish it on the web for him.

This is how he answered the web site questions.

My idea for a new product is…

a mix between a nintendow controler and a gameboy. It has an “A” and a “B” button on the back and the control stick on the front of the handle. It kind of looks like one of those handheld fishing toys but it plays gameboy games. It will be very comfortable unlike treo or a regular gameboy. You can play it in one hand so it can be more confortable, easier, and relaxing.

I came up with my idea when I was…

in the bathroom. I was plaing my gameboy when my hand started aching. so I turned it off and started thinking about other gaming divices. I thouht of a nintendow thing and still had my mind on the gameboy. so I thought “What if I combined these two things two make one.” I put them together in my mind and came up with a one handle gameboy.

I don’t know enough about these controllers to know if his idea has real merit or not. I do know I can’t afford to bankroll research on these game devices, or invest in a decent patent lawyer. But I’m still proud of the inventive spirit he has. What makes me swell with hope for him is that he has the honesty not to indicate that he’s 18.

I took him to the University of Missouri this morning for Saturday Morning Sciencea talk they had invited kids to. This Saturday the talk was on Radiopharmaceuticals. I expected him to enjoy the bagels, but he listened in and even doodled several technical terms.

The middle child, 7, came as well. He tired of the language and subject matter, but was content to simply snuggle with his old man. They both enjoy parking at the top of the 6 floor parking garage so they can run up the stairs and leave me wheezing far behind. It is good exercise, for all of us.

They wanted to hurry home to play with the Vex Robot kit we have borrowed from 4-H. In my haste to play with them, I forgot to take one kid to his 4-H Citizenship project and arrived hopelessly late.

I am trying to assist in the development of a Robotics project. We assembled the simplest unit today which is basically a skid steer, radio controlled car. It’s fun for starters, but I’m looking forward to having it perform more logic.

It is the logic of processing input and responding to it that makes it a robot. I was taught that a mouse trap is a robot; it senses that the quarry is in the vulnerable position and snaps the trap. A thermostat also is a robot that senses the temperature of the room and reponds accordingly, turning the furnace on or off. The valve that senses the level of water in the toilet tank and automatically turns it off is another example. In modern computing, a robot is a program that seeks information on the web to store it in a search engine database.

All of those jobs would be boring or impossible without these devices: imagine waiting for the mouse to come along so you could spring the trap on him. How successful are you likely to be when the mouse can sense that you are near? Expanding the participants view of robotics to include these simple devices would be a key goal of a successful Robotics project.

We can only hope that the kids who take a 6-hour Robotics project will be a little more prepared to use, adapt or invent technology to improve their world.

Yesterday, my oldest brother Steve and I were sent on a “Mission from God” reminiscent of the old Blues Brothers movie. The Catholic school we attended 30 years ago had some furniture from a donor in Kansas City and required our unique talents to deliver these items. The unique talents Steve brought included his willingness to fund the excursion, drive nearly 1,000 mi. and his ability to borrow a pickup from one friend and a 5th wheel stock trailer from another. Me? I was willing to take a day off work for a good cause and shove some furniture around with my brother.

Steve drove up to stay with my family in Columbia Wednesday and read to my kids at bedtime. Early Thursday we drove to KC and met Mary, another St. Teresa alumni and the cousin of the current principle, at a warehouse. She brought a teenage neighbor to help us load. Items donated included 7 heavy fire-proof cabinets, a refrigerator and 2 conference room tables, one of them >20 ft. long.

As with any adventure, some things don’t work out the way you planned. We didn’t expect the stock trailer to be as old as it was and had anticipated features like brakes or at least brake lights to be functional. We had also not expected it to be padded with straw and horse crap. The truck however, donated to our cause byGreg Hobbs, performed admirably and could easy out-pace my 73 Charger pulling a 28 foot trailer. It sustained some damage when some wimp in an H2 Hummer insisted that Steve move the truck around the tiny lot: the tailgate was down and was torn off by the trailer.

There was ample opportunity to talk to my brother and explore the myriad of similarities and differences that make us family. We both have kids in Catholic schools: that we have in common. It’s politically that we differ. He brought up the high cost of fuel and I mentioned ExxonMobile’s $10B profit last quarter. Steve mused, “That’s going to make it challenging to elect another Oil-Man President.” God, he makes me laugh.

We filled the trailer with chairs, tables and dry erase boards and he had me back to work in Columbia by 1:30 in the afternoon. He still had 300 miles to go, but as far as I was concerned it was: Mission Accomplished.