<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:16:01.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Truck Talk (FORD ONLY)</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459.post-1187932025545298954</id><published>2008-06-02T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T18:36:08.425-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happiness</title><content type='html'>Sitting in a stand&lt;br /&gt;Fifteen feet in the air&lt;br /&gt;Sun peaks over the horizon&lt;br /&gt;Squirrels wrestling in trees and on fall leaves&lt;br /&gt;You hear an object in the distance&lt;br /&gt;Then all falls silent&lt;br /&gt;A grunt to your right sends your heart racing&lt;br /&gt;A doe or two begin to come through&lt;br /&gt;You let them pass and steady your weapon&lt;br /&gt;Then all of a sudden out from a clearing&lt;br /&gt;A beautiful buck approaches you and is nearing&lt;br /&gt;You fall silent and click the safety off&lt;br /&gt;Gun to your shoulder&lt;br /&gt;Waiting, waiting&lt;br /&gt;The buck walks up and stops dead on his tracks&lt;br /&gt;A clear shot awaits you as you are ready to fire&lt;br /&gt;Broad side he turns&lt;br /&gt;You pull the trigger&lt;br /&gt;The deer jumps and your barrel smokes&lt;br /&gt;You breathe heavy and watch him run&lt;br /&gt;He collapses over and you eject the shell&lt;br /&gt;You wait some time and get down from the stand&lt;br /&gt;You go claim your trophy that you will never forget&lt;br /&gt;As the moment sets in a smile appears&lt;br /&gt;Happiness is here amongst all of the cheers&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8038450252231202459-1187932025545298954?l=papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/1187932025545298954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8038450252231202459&amp;postID=1187932025545298954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/1187932025545298954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/1187932025545298954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/2008/06/happiness.html' title='Happiness'/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459.post-8594982075091007619</id><published>2008-05-18T16:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T16:21:52.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Future Event Possibilities in 1984</title><content type='html'>My feeling is that the Thought Police are exerting their force of Julia to get answers from Winston.  Mr. Charrington will come clean as a member of the Thought Police who only rented Winston a room because of what he wrote in his diary.  The whole room rental was a stick-up to be certain that Winston was against big Brother and the Party.  While beating Julia, they will question Winston on the whereabouts of O'Brien and how he can turn off the telescreens.  Julia will refuse to answer any questions because of her love for Winston, but he will give up Julia to save himself.  Julia will be vaporized for going against the Party.  Winston will be charged with thought crimes, but will not be vaporized because he gave in to the Party and he poses as no physical or mental threat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8038450252231202459-8594982075091007619?l=papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/8594982075091007619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8038450252231202459&amp;postID=8594982075091007619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/8594982075091007619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/8594982075091007619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/2008/05/future-event-possibilities-in-1984.html' title='Future Event Possibilities in 1984'/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459.post-2041651824719505722</id><published>2008-03-08T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T18:07:27.605-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Have a baby or buy a baby?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Removing a real parent from the birthing process is taking away a part of our society that has lasted from the beginning of time. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Adoption agencies have always been around for those families who did not have the chance of having a child. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Being able to play God and choose basically who your baby will be is unethical. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;You would be able to choose hair, eyes, and other physical body traits. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;All of this will continue until everyone has a perfect child. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Short term benefits are numerous as are the negative long term affects of this unnatural phenomenon.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One of the most influential benefits to having these implanted embryos is that you would be able to end physically disabilities at birth. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The embryos can be treated before they enter a woman’s womb so that they will be immunized and checked for any handicaps that could affect the overall health of the child. Parents want to have strong children that will stay healthy from birth to the end. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It hurts parents to see a child struggle.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Playing God would be able to eliminate the chance of having a child with a physical or mental disability.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;One of the drawbacks to playing God is it takes out the natural aspect of child birth. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Each child is different after they are born.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There are similarities in everybody, but everyone is still different. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I feel that parents want their children to make mistakes to learn from them. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It builds better character.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If these embryos are cloned to make everyone look alike, how can any on person stand out in a crowd?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All children will grow up to be strong, beautiful millionaires if parents got what they really wanted. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Our society is built on being able to adapt and to overcome obstacles. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;If every child is perfect because of carefully chosen embryos, then how can anybody be able to rise to their best?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A major negative in this whole process is the expense.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Most common Americans do not have the kind of money to have an artificial child. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And I believe that it will hurt parents to see someone else have this procedure done knowing that it could never be their fate. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;And who want to buy a baby?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Children are supposed be your gift that you bring into this world, not something that spent a couple hundred thousand dollars on.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;All in all, I do not agree with being able to play God and choose who your baby is before you even give birth. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Perfect children will only cause problems later on when those perfect kids buy their own super babies. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It takes away a part of life that should remain sacred. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8038450252231202459-2041651824719505722?l=papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/2041651824719505722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8038450252231202459&amp;postID=2041651824719505722' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/2041651824719505722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/2041651824719505722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/2008/03/have-baby-or-buy-baby.html' title='Have a baby or buy a baby?'/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459.post-1052154445545539905</id><published>2008-02-14T19:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T17:50:46.819-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-923efcb76c47c58f" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D923efcb76c47c58f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331338599%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2A2E0BEB1176A223A132DC9DB6619C61B80062DC.4CB665627836D1AD97917E43D4011252E219C252%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D923efcb76c47c58f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DuImLwQIM_l42SZgI0HV7K__kHrE&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D923efcb76c47c58f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331338599%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2A2E0BEB1176A223A132DC9DB6619C61B80062DC.4CB665627836D1AD97917E43D4011252E219C252%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D923efcb76c47c58f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DuImLwQIM_l42SZgI0HV7K__kHrE&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8038450252231202459-1052154445545539905?l=papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=923efcb76c47c58f&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/1052154445545539905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8038450252231202459&amp;postID=1052154445545539905' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/1052154445545539905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/1052154445545539905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/2008/02/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459.post-8087330499235940288</id><published>2008-02-14T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T07:57:45.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This I Believe</title><content type='html'>I believe in completing a task correctly the first time and every time.  Getting things done right the first time, to me, means that I will have more time to enjoy what I have done.  If you don’t do something right the first time you do it, it will be more time consuming later because you will keeping on having to go back to it.  I would rather be able to see and use what I have built rather than watch it sit and collect dust because I don’t know how to fix what I screwed up.  Although it may be a lengthy process to complete it right the first time, I personally will feel better in the end knowing that it is done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            My father was the one who taught me to always do things right the first time.  He would always tell me while I was growing up, and now too, “Jim, if you go through life doing things half-assed, you’ll make yourself look like an idiot.”  He would also tell me not to start something if you haven’t thought it through enough.  If you think things through, they’ll get done right and the rest of the time is yours to enjoy.    And in my house and around my yard, there is always a project to do.  If I don’t get what needs to be done correctly the first time, it will set back both my father and myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            My dad is an auto mechanic.  If something doesn’t work as expected the first time, he might just lose a customer.  Since it has been my dad’s business for the past twelve years, it means something to him and the rest of our family.  He has established trust with most of his customers over the years, so if a small mistake happens, it’s not as big of a deal if he was their new mechanic.  But if something happens, it will cause a headache to all that are around him.  He wants to get things done right the first time, so he can work on the next car that pulls in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            As probably everybody knows, I am a die hard Ford Nut and I am obsessed with the appearance of my truck.  But what most people don’t know is that I actually have an old 1987 GMC pickup too.  This truck is just one big piece of rusty metal that surprisingly still runs.  The way this relates to my belief in doing things right the first time is that I have had this truck for over a year now, and it still is not finished.  My dad and I are slow at finishing one of our own projects, because so have so many other things to do.  The reason the truck isn’t completed yet, is because it needs to be perfect.  We don’t want to put the truck on the road just to have it blow up by the time it makes it home.  We have probably bought just about every part under the sun for this truck, it still isn’t just right.  It is finishing this truck right the first time that is keeping me from getting a little mud on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Completing a project right the first time gives me a sense of pride and accomplishment.  I don’t want to spend every waking moment fixing what I did wrong.  There just is not that much time in one day.  Maybe one day, probably when I’m about thirty, my truck will be done just the way I want it.  But until then, I will still try to make it as close to perfect as I can get it.  I believe in doings things right the first time every time, no matter how long it takes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8038450252231202459-8087330499235940288?l=papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/8087330499235940288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8038450252231202459&amp;postID=8087330499235940288' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/8087330499235940288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/8087330499235940288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/2008/02/this-i-believe.html' title='This I Believe'/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459.post-2118868174023044873</id><published>2008-01-18T17:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T17:59:12.743-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How to be a Backseat Driver</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;    A backseat driver is someone that we all just cannot get along with.  You just want to throw them out of your vehicle before they force you to drive off a cliff.  But what nobody realizes is that the art of being a backseat driver is learned throughout one’s life.  He or she must be persistent and never give up no matter what is out on the road.  And to be a backseat driver, you must be ready for some physical abuse after a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;    The main point to being a backseat driver is that YOU are in control of the vehicle, NOT THE DRIVER.  If the driver knows how to get somewhere, it is your job, no, your responsibility to speak up and tell them a better way.  It makes no difference if the new route is longer than the other and you are tardy for what you are attending because you were able to get the driver to change his or her mind.  That is what I call control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;    As a backseat driver, you must be ready for every turn.  If the driver is about to miss a crucial turn because they can’t stop talking on their cell phone, you must speak up at the last possible second that they need to turn.  For an instance when you are just cruising along in silence, keep on reminding the driver that the next turn is coming up in the next few miles.  It doesn’t matter if they know where they are going, you were heard and made a contribution.  Although the driver might start to become frustrated with you, you know in your heart that you helped guide them on a successful voyage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;    A backseat driver must have their eyes on the road at all times.  Anything can happen in an instant and the driver probably won’t catch up as quickly as you will.  When you see brake lights up ahead a few cars in front of you, it is your job to tell them about it.  If they do not hit their brakes in response to your observation, you better yell “BRAKE!” in a loud, assertive voice.  The same thing goes for when you see deer.  Even if they are fifty yards off the road in a field, you must yell “DEER!” at the exact moment you see it.  And it is very important that you put your hands against the seat in front of you for both instances.  If you don’t, you could end up with a minor headache when the driver slams on the brakes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;    Backseat driver’s know the ways of the road better than any driver.  They see what is up ahead and aid the driver by alerting them.  They are your friend and your foe.  Yes, being a very annoying person is part of the job, but you must understand that they are there only to help.  Their contributions are numerous and you must begin to respect what he or she is doing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8038450252231202459-2118868174023044873?l=papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/2118868174023044873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8038450252231202459&amp;postID=2118868174023044873' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/2118868174023044873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/2118868174023044873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-to-be-backseat-driver.html' title='How to be a Backseat Driver'/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459.post-1177670874705203541</id><published>2007-12-31T15:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T16:02:01.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Imprtance of Work</title><content type='html'>This article goes into great detail to show how Holden Caulfield has become an American literary icon.  It makes a very valid comparison to show Holden and Huck Finn are very similar.  Both of the novels were banned in certain areas, but have become parts of the language curriculum  in others.  The crude nature of both books express what is happening in our culture.  It even links Salinger's work to the transcendentalists from the 1800's.  The article shows what the beat generation was all about.  These authors experimented with new things and will be incorporated into out literature forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8038450252231202459-1177670874705203541?l=papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/1177670874705203541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8038450252231202459&amp;postID=1177670874705203541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/1177670874705203541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/1177670874705203541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/2007/12/imprtance-of-work.html' title='The Imprtance of Work'/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459.post-4403591122091578862</id><published>2007-12-22T18:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T18:30:44.997-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brown</title><content type='html'>Brown is the color that represents me the most.  I am above all an outdoors man  who loves everything about nature.  I hunt, fish, ride &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ATVs&lt;/span&gt; and can spends hours every day working in the yard.  Brown symbolizes comfort and simplicity.  Being outside makes me feel comfortable and puts me at peace.  A bad day of hunting or fishing always beats a good day of school.  No matter how frustrated I get, i can always go outside and find something that eases stress.  I'll go outside, ride my quad, or cut grass.  It might seem like work to most people, but I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;enjoy&lt;/span&gt; it now and probably always will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brown is simple.  So am I.  I don't need to live in a hustle and bustling city where everything gets handed to me.  I work and pay for what I want.  It is simple to me.  I can only see myself living in a rural environment with a brown utopia of woods behind my house.  The city annoys me.  It seems boring to me because it is the same thing day in and day out with much more crime.  Nature changes everyday, and there is always something that can cure my boredom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i am outside, nothing can go wrong.  I understand that it will occasionally rain or snow, but I don't let it get to me.  I'll just put it in four wheel drive if I have to and keep &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;truckin&lt;/span&gt;'.  I laugh when people come to Sussex County from the city and become amazed by seeing trees and cows.  The only brown they have ever seen has been the tint of brown in all of the city's brick buildings.  Brown represents who I am the best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8038450252231202459-4403591122091578862?l=papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/4403591122091578862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8038450252231202459&amp;postID=4403591122091578862' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/4403591122091578862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/4403591122091578862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/2007/12/brown.html' title='Brown'/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459.post-3274553203961428433</id><published>2007-12-06T06:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T06:45:52.411-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Korean War Medals</title><content type='html'>In my room, I have Korean War medals. I got all of my grandfather's war medals after he died on October 10, 2002. But their is one medal that I hold above the rest. It is a 50&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;anniversary&lt;/span&gt; service medal. The reason that I hold it closer to me than the rest is because this one he actually gave to me about a year before he died. My grandfather;s medal sits facing me on my dresser so I am reminded of him as soon as I wake up in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     My grandpa &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cassidy&lt;/span&gt; always put me above the rest of his grandchildren. I am the last blood &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Cassidy&lt;/span&gt; and that was a big deal to him. He had three sons and only one grandson. I guess that is why he decided to give the medal to me. i was also handed his service flag at the funeral. It usually goes to the wife of the deceased, but in this case it went to me. My grandmother had died before my sister was born. It was a unanimous decision that I would get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I still remember coming out of band one day after school when I got into my mom's car. She didn't look so good, and then she broke the news to me. It was strange, I never shed a tear after my mom told me. I just sat there silently soaking in what had just happened. No one close to me had ever died before and i was just in disbelief. I knew my grandpa was not even close to healthy because of his years of smoking and drinking, but those aspects never seemed to cross my mind. His funeral was on my sister's birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I have always remembered vivid details about him. Like his Lincoln &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Town Car&lt;/span&gt; that just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;reeked&lt;/span&gt; of cigarette smoke &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; you entered. And his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;phlegmy&lt;/span&gt; laugh with his deep tone of voice. He had a best friend named Martha That would tell you everything you needed to know. We learned many extra things about my grandpa at his funeral because of her. I'd probably slap her if I ever saw her again. She didn't need to say some of the things she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     My grandfather was a Corporal in the Army during the Korean War. Now some of my friends call me Corporal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Cassidy&lt;/span&gt;, but i don't think they honestly know where it stems from. I have all of the patches from his uniform and his VFW cap with the I Heart Beer pin on it. All of these small items and especially that service medal help me relive all of the good times i had with him and how much I want to see and talk to him now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8038450252231202459-3274553203961428433?l=papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/3274553203961428433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8038450252231202459&amp;postID=3274553203961428433' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/3274553203961428433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/3274553203961428433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/2007/12/korean-war-medals.html' title='Korean War Medals'/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038450252231202459.post-8431731767913230369</id><published>2007-10-31T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T06:46:06.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Long Way Gone</title><content type='html'>"If fear alters behavior, you're already defeated." Brenda Hammond&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This quote represents a major theme in &lt;u&gt;A Long Way Gone&lt;/u&gt;.  Almost all of the people that showed fear when the rebels came to their villages were defeated.  Fear can cause the brave to be cowardice and drive them to run away from putting up a fight.  Ishmael and his brother Junior during the first few chapters of the book stuck together even though &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; parents might be dead.  Running back home to see if they were still alive could have caused fear to rush through them and cause them not to fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twice, so far, rap and hip-hop music has saved them.  When they are stopped by groups along their path, their cassette tape of music saves them each time.  Someone in each group that has stopped them has seen the kids perform their dance routine.  if they were to have shown fear in any part of the process, they could have been done for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this seems to go back to not allowing fear to control your life.  You can't go on living a life of fear.  It will weigh you down no matter what you are doing.  &lt;u&gt;A Long Way Gone&lt;/u&gt; is a great example of how fear doesn't alter behavior and how you build courage from not showing your fears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8038450252231202459-8431731767913230369?l=papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/feeds/8431731767913230369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8038450252231202459&amp;postID=8431731767913230369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/8431731767913230369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8038450252231202459/posts/default/8431731767913230369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://papabearwantsaford.blogspot.com/2007/10/long-way-gone.html' title='A Long Way Gone'/><author><name>Papa Bear</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10189775145378611184</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
