Tuesday, November 19, 2013


The beat of those sad cadence of drums for me are a life time forget me not.
Day after day, year upon year, now 50 years on.

So you see what is left in my “NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET” photos.

NOW BACK IN TIME TO: November 22nd 1963...
My brother, sister and I are all at home this day quarantined with the mumps
and under the care of our Grandmother.
For my Mother is in the hospital waiting to give birth to our youngest brother.
It was around 11:30 AM Calgary time and we were watching a TV Show called Romper Room.
Miss Doobee (the main character), was just about to use her Magic Mirror which was her custom, just before she went to a commercial break.
After the commercial break the mirrors back would drop and Miss Doobee’s face would magically re-appear in side it.
At which time she would then mention all the kids names, who were having their birthdays that day. (she never did mention mine?)

This time when they cut back from commercial, Miss Doobee did re-appear on our RCA black and white TV set.
But minus the Magic Mirror and with a very strange look on her face?
Miss Doobee then began crying and blurted out “I’m sorry children as the President was shot!”
What the heck is this??

Now the picture went to the Indian Head test pattern screen that my brother
and I watched patiently every morning, for the TV broadcast to start that day.
My brother and I, at this time just sorta looked at each other????
As this was truly strange for an adult cry, but especially for Miss Doobee, who seemed so friendly and stoic, not at all like our mother for the last 9 months who due to her pregnancy cried all the time it seemed.
CBC news then came on and they in turn, switched to a new TV station called CBS and some guy named Walter Cronkite?
Both the man and the TV network we did not know, as Calgary Canada at that time only had 2 TV networks, CFAC/CBC and CTV.

I was riveted for the next 4 days and that night when my Dad came home from his work.
I noticed that he was a little dejected, as if some had happened but I dare not ask why?
My brother and I watched it all, on through to the funeral that Monday.
We were so impressed with the formalities, that we found a large toy to use as
a make shift coffin and then did our own re-enactment of JFK's funeral, drums and all.
This of course only horrified our very Anglican Grandmother, who in turn threatened us with a spanking, if we did not stop our dis-respectful funeral game!!!

President John F. Kennedy's assassination has stayed in my memory all my life.
As the muffled drums, I can still hear, to this day...


Written by Sir Richard...

JFK Quote:
This is an extraordinary country. George Bernard Shaw, speaking as an Irishman, summed up an approach to life: Other people, he said "see things and . . . say 'Why?' . . . But I dream things that never were-- and I say: 'Why not?'"

Sunday, November 17, 2013


“Thank You!”
Does Love from your heart go out or just dissipate like chimney smoke?
Is it rock hard like granite, lasting for all of our eternities.
Till weather and time breaks it down to sand?

Do you stop Loving someone that you once Loved or have lost?
I think not, for you store it and bring it out like a photo album.
To view and at times even share but it is always stored and is never lost.

Can you Love more than one person,
or is your personality like that of a single railway track?
Never diverting only going one direction and never to be shared,
I think not.

Love, is like the spokes of a bicycle wheel.
Racing out to as many as one needs to move on and always centered back.
To the heart of the matter, back to the centre of your heart...
Written by,
Sir Richard...
With Love and all that heaven will allow as I am so Blessed!

Sunday, November 3, 2013


This next song we're going to dedicate to a great American
organization. Tonight I'd like to dedicate this to our boys
in the FBI.
Well, wait a minute. It's hard to be an FBI man. I mean, first
of all, being an FBI man, you have to be over 40 years old.
And the reason is that it takes at least 25 years with the
organization to be that much of a bastard. It's true. You just
can't join, you know. It needs an atmosphere where your
natural bastardness can grow and develop and take a
meaningful shape in today's complex society.
But that's not why I want to dedicate the song to the FBI. I
mean, the job that they have to do is a drag. I mean, they have
to follow people around, you know. That's part of their job.
Follow me around.
I'm out on the highway and I'm drivin' down the road and I
run out of gasoline. I pull over to the side of the road. They
gotta pull over too - make believe that they ran out, you
I go to get some gasoline. They have to figure out whether
they should stick with the car or follow me. Suppose I don't
come back and they're stayin' with the car.
Or if I fly on the airplanes, I could fly half fare because I'm 12
to 22. And they gotta pay the full fare. But the thing is that
when you pay the full fare, you have to get on the airplane
first, so that they know how many seats are left over for the
half fare kids. Right? And sometimes there aren't any seats
left over, and sometimes there are, but that doesn't mean that
you have to go.
Suppose that he gets on and fills up the last seat, so you can't
get on. Then he gets off then you can get on. What's he gonna
Well, it's a drag for him. But that's not why I want to dedicate
the song to the FBI.
During these hard days and hard weeks, everybody always
has it bad once in a while. You know, you have a bad time of
it, and you always have a friend who says "Hey man, you
ain't got it that bad. Look at that guy." And you at that
guy, and he's got it worse than you. And it makes you feel
better that there's somebody that's got it worse than you.
But think of the last guy. For one minute, think of the last
guy. Nobody's got it worse than that guy. Nobody in the
whole world. That guy...he's so alone in the world that he
doesn't even have a street to lay in for a truck to run him over.
He's out there with nothin'. Nothin's happenin' for that cat.
And all that he has to do to create a little excitement in his
own life is to bum a dime from somewhere, call up the FBI.
Say "FBl?", they say "Yes", say "I dig Uncle Ho and Chair-
man Mao, and their friends are comin' over for dinner" (click)
Hang up the phone.
And within two minutes, and not two minutes from when he
hangs up the phone, but two minutes from when he first put
the dime in, they got 30,000 feet of tape rollin'; files on tape;
pictures, movies, dramas, actions on tape. But then they send
out a half a million people all over the entire world, the globe,
they find out all they can about this guy.
'Cause there's a number of questions involved in the guy. I
mean, if he was the last guy in the world, how'd he get a dime
to call the FBI? There are plenty of people that aren't the last
guys that can't get dimes. He comes along and he gets a dime.
I mean, if he had to bum a dime to call the FBI, how was he
gonna serve dinner for all of those people? How could the
last guy make dinner for all those people. And if he could
make dinner, and was gonna make dinner, then why did he
call the FBI?
They find out all of those questions within two minutes. And
that's a great thing about America. I mean, this is the only
country in the world...l mean, well, it's not the only country
in the world that could find stuff out in two minutes, but it's
the only country in the world that would take two minutes
for that guy.
Other countries would say "Hey, he's the last guy...screw
him", you know? But in America, there is no discrimination,
and there is no hypocrisy,'cause they'll get anybody. And that's
a wonderful thing about America.
And that's why tonight I'd like to dedicate it to every FBI
man in the audience. I know you can't say nothin', you know,
you can't get up and say "Hi!" cause then everybody knows
that you're an FBI man and that's a drag for you and your
They're not really your friends, are they? I mean, so you can't
get up and say nothin' 'cause other wise, you gotta get sent
back to the factory and that's a drag for you and it's an
expense for the government, and that's a drag for you.
We're gonna sing you this Christmas carol. It's for all you
bastards out there in the audience tonight. It's called "The
Pause of Mr. Claus".
Why do you sit there so strange?
Is it because you are beautiful?
You must think you are deranged
Why do police guys beat on peace guys?
You must think Santa Clause weird
He has long hair and a beard
Giving his presents for free
Why do police guys mess with peace guys?
Let's get Santa Clause 'cause;
Santa Clause has a red suit
He's a communist
And a beard, and long hair
Must be a pacifist
What's in the pipe that he's smoking?
Mister Clause sneaks in your home at night.
He must be a dope fiend, to put you up tight
Why do police guys beat on peace guys?
Arlo Guthrie - The Pause Of Mr. Clause



On this 11th Month, on 11th Day at the 11th Hour.

Send a Text, Email, phone & say something to attract the NSA & jam it!

BECAUSE Freedom of speech is the political right to communicate one's opinions and ideas using one's body and property to anyone who is willing to receive them. The term freedom of expression is sometimes used synonymously, but includes any act of seeking, receiving and imparting information or ideas, regardless of the medium used. In practice, the right to freedom of speech is a right for any individual in any country and this right is commonly subject to limitations, such as with libel, slander, obscenity for example inciting ethnic hatred, copyright violation, or violence against another for any reason!



V: I can assure you that I mean you no harm

Evey: Who are you?

V: Who? Who is but the form…following the function of “what”, and what I am is…a man in a mask

Evey: Well I can see that.

V: Of course you can. I’m not questioning… your powers of observation, I’m merely remarking on the paradox… of asking a masked man… who he is.

Evey: Oh…right.

V: But on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace soubriquet, to suggest the character…of this dramatis persona.

Voila! In view a humble vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation, of a by-gone vexation, stands vivified…and has vowed to vanquish…these venal and virulent…vermin van-guarding vice…and vouchsafing… the violently vicious…and veracious violation…of violition!

The only verdict is vengeance…a vendetta, held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such… shall one day vindicate…the vigilant…and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage…veers most verbose, so let me simply add…that it is my very good honor to meet you…

and you may call me "V".

Evey: Are you like a crazy person?

V: I’m quite sure they will say so. But to whom I might ask am I speaking?

Evey: I’m Evey

V: Evey? E.V. Of course.

by Sir Richard...

Sent to you all with LOVE and to all I Pray that heaven will allow!