Oh, The Places You'll Go And The Wildlife That Will Kill You When You Arrive

Over the past few weeks loyalist subscribers have been flooding the Heavy Artillery mailroom with submissions for publication.  Well, maybe they didn't know their submissions were going to end up on the information superhighway but that's what happens when you fail to read the fine print non-existent print in your Heavy Artillery Terms and Conditions.

On the day that Heavy Artillery posted The Final Bell, Heavy Artillery Chief Scientific Advisor and Director of Antiquities - The Paleorider - was on assignment in South America.  This foremost authority on all matters paleontological, hailing proudly from the western Carolina uplands, paid his own tribute to our demolished alma mater by wearing his THS ballcap and performing a stirring rendition of "Don't Cry For Me, Talawanda!" before La Casa Rosada in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

Eva Peron would have been proud of Andy.

More from The Paleorider's South American expedition in an upcoming post.

HA secret agent Double-O (the ladies pronounce it, "Ohhh-OOOooohhh!") BIG DAVE, Licensed to Chill, submitted the following clandestine photo from Game 2 of the Reds-Rockies doubleheader in Denver, Colorado on August 17, 2014:

Los Rojos, as BIG DAVE surreptitiously identified our favorite team in an effort to confuse any multi-hyphenated would-be wire-tappers, were pounded into merciless submission by the evil Rox, surrendering 10 runs in both ends of the doubleheader.  When pressed for further graphic details of this flagrant violation of the Geneva Code of Sportsmanship, BIG DAVE could offer only the following:

Sorry.  The nieces were much more interested in snacks than the ballgame, so not much more to report other than that children's hats are $26, beers are only $7 and they made a RUSH album cover from my photos.

I believe that last comment was a subtle dig at the multitudinous Canadian Power Trio updates of recent vintage. Et tu, BIG DAVE?

This past Saturday morning, when on patrol in the vast terra incognita of rural Reily Township, I encountered a coyote on Dunwoody Road almost directly across from the old Sackenheim Haus.

Initially I observed this wild beast near the roadside culvert in the photo you see above yet by the time I checked for following traffic, utilized my hazard lights, slowed to a safe stop, engaged the park gear, applied the hand brake, fished my Android out of my pocket (hey now!), swiped the display screen, tapped the camera app, and framed the scene..... the Acme Company's best customer had nearly disappeared over the horizon.  If you closely look for the coyote, you might see a small brownish speck near the center of the photograph.

Buenas Noches, Mein Froinds!

Roll the credits!

The Final Bell

"And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." - John Donne from Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions (1624)

Demolition began this month on our beloved Talawanda High School.  Yesterday I endeavored to traverse the treacherous grounds around the demolition site... OK, OK the placid grounds outside the perimeter... in order to present the photographs here for your funeral contemplations. 

I was hoping for clear blue skies and brilliant sunlight to better illuminate the grounds.  However, I think the leaden sky helps to set a better scene for this collection of somber images.  In the photo above, the artist in me couldn't resist framing this section of the building with the barbed wire that runs atop the chain-link fencing and is my subtle homage to the album cover for Hooligans, a 1981 double-album compilation of songs by THE WHO - the rock band that this teenage student was fanatical about during his high school years.

More Hooligansism-inspired [sic] artistic photography for the photo below:

The mountain of rubble at left and the industrial-sized dumpster at right frame, for me, what is the saddest evocative element of the photo above (and below, too); the open door hanging off its hinges.

Same photo (above) as its predecessor, but here with the Nikon Coolpix L12 pushed through the chain-link fence.

Around back (below), the feeling of melancholy grows equally proportional to the scene of destruction:

Hallowed Bowers Field, in the background (above), stands by as a silent sentinel.

Alliterative auditeria annihilation, above.  I would like to think that legendary English teacher Helen "Ma P" Plemmons would be proud of me.

Additionally alliterative auditeria and ag-room annihilation, above.  Heavy Artillery would like to extend its sympathies to anyone named Bulach for having to bear witness to this scene of vocational agricultural ruin.

The Jeep Main Battle Tank pays quiet respect to that which now is lost to the ages.

The Jeep Main Battle Tank occupies the sacred proving grounds where Mr B taught generations of students the mysterious art of maneuverability.

His golden locks Time hath to silver turn'd;
O Time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing!
His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spurn'd,
But spurn'd in vain; youth waneth by increasing:
Beauty, strength, youth are flowers but fading seen;
Duty, faith, love are roots, and ever green.

His helmet now shall make a hive for bees;
And, lovers' sonnets turn'd to holy psalms,
A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees,
And feed on prayers, which are Age his alms:
But though from court to cottage he depart,
His Saint is sure of his unspotted heart.

And when he saddest sits in homely cell,
He'll teach his swains this carol for a song,
'Blest be the hearts that wish my sovereign well,
Curst be the souls that think her any wrong.'
Goddess, allow this aged man his right
To be your beadsman now that was your knight.

--- George Peele, A Farewell To Arms (1590)

Roll the credits!

Continuing Education Opportunity

Needing a few more college credits?  Tiffin University (in north central Ohio) is offering a course I could ace.  I might be persuaded to write your term paper for a case of Mexican-bottled Coca-Cola.

No course of study can be complete without a subject-relevant field trip.

In a minimally-related point, for years I have had occasion to refer to an unofficial, fan-generated RUSH FAQ (defunct since 2005).  Only recently did I discover that its most recent FAQ caretaker, since the mid-1990s, was a Class of '94 Miami University graduate.  Small world.

Roll the credits!

Talkin' Baseball (And Other Things), August 2014

Heavy Artillery Washington Bureau Director of Covert Operations, codenamed BIG STRICK, emerged from deep cover to submit his July photo reconnaissance of Fenway Park.  The official report from BIG STRICK, declassified here for wide spread dissemination, arrived in time for this week's upcoming Reds-Red Sox titanic struggle at the Great American Tilt Yard.

Quoting BIG STRICK;

A little tardy on getting these out, but a glorious day for baseball in Beantown last Sunday.  A big win for the home team.  I think I even heard Chabot singing "Take Me Out To The Ballgame!"

The individual identified as Chabot, above, is probably BIG JEFF, former hired gun for The Violent C-SPAN Thugs intramural basketball team circa 1990.  Certainly, that was the athletic highlight in the sporting life of BIG JUSTIN's big brother.

BIG STRICK identified the focal point in the above spy photo as, quoting here again, "The Green Monstah (Boston speak)."

The consensus here at Heavy Artillery HQ is that the clandestine photo, above, accounts for the lengthy delay in the submission of BIG STRICK's official report.  Too much Cincinnati-brewed Sam Adams lager.

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For last week's interleague game between the Reds and upstate Indians, The Incomparable Joe Wilhelm asked me - no, BEGGED me - to attend with him, to help him to better understand comparative statistical analysis, to explain the fundamentals of fielding one's position, when he had the prime seats you see in the photo above, just behind the Reds' dugout.  Regrettably, I had better things to do, like work for a living, so it was left to Mrs Incomparable to help Dodgers fan (and closet Yankee sycophant) Joe Joe understand the amalgamated philosophical theories of Bill James.

Thou shalt not worship false gods, Joe!

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Sighted in a Red Lobster parking lot:

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This past Thursday, after a long day at the office after a short day at the office I treated my Administrative Assistant My Dear Elderly Mother to an early dinner at the original Montgomery Inn.

Somehow, they always know to seat me in the only alcove that is dedicated to a single sport:

Horse racing!  This (above) was the view from my table. This (below) was the view of my table:

Half spring chicken, baked potato with that signature Montgomery Inn barbecue sauce on the siiiiiiiiide. [credit: The Cowboy, Jeff Brantley]  Afterward, we discovered a great ice cream stand directly across the street.

Walker Bros. Ice Cream.  It was great, the price was right and the portion was massive. I give Walker Bros. my highest recommendation.

Rounding out my recent gastronomic adventures, and returning full-circle to where we began this posting with BIG STRICK's Fenway pix, this past week one of Mr B's brothers was visiting from Boston.  While they spent the day reminiscing, or whatever, I was putting in a 10.5-hour day at work.  They toured Mother Miami before meeting up with me for all-you-could-shovel spaghetti at LaRosa's.  I handed Mr B my Android Galaxy S9000 and had him take a picture of me and my Uncle George.  The following photos are unedited.

My uncle was proudly sporting his Air Force Academy shirt.

As all of you know, Mr B is a Korean War veteran of the U.S. Air Force.  My uncle was a pilot with the Flying Tigers.  No, not those Flying Tigers, but these Flying Tigers. My uncle's son (my cousin), also an Air Force veteran, was an F-16 flight instructor for many years, and flew combat missions over Iraq.  My cousin has a daughter currently attending the Air Force Academy.  You might guess what were some of the central topics of conversation at this dinner.

We did not intentionally color coordinate.

The photography was crummy, but the food and the conversation was great. 

Roll the credits!

Killed In Action; 5 August 1944

70 years ago today, Corporal Edward J. Powers of the 86th Cavalry Reconnaissance Squadron Mechanized, 6th Armored Division, U.S. Army was killed in action in or near Chateauneuf, France during the Brittany Campaign.

My Dear Elderly Mother has childhood memories of her Uncle Eddie who was born and raised in Springfield, OH.

The "Super Sixth" landed in Normandy in July of 1944, a little more than one month after the D-Day landing.  Soon after the Allies' breakout from the Normandy beachhead, facing fierce enemy resistance, difficult terrain and lengthening supply and communication lines, the 86th Cavalry Reconnaissance Squadron Mechanized was pressed into a role that was more combat-oriented.  Such are the demands of war.

You can read a brief account of the Super Sixth's Brittany Campaign here.  Included is a mention of Eddie and the names of his squadron mates who were killed in action that terrible day, long ago.  You can read Combat History of the 6th Armored Division, here (it's a PDF file that is 40MB in size.  The portion relevant to our subject today appears on page 17 of the book; page 18 of the PDF file).  For a more general sense of what the theater of operations was like during the Brittany Campaign, you can watch, here, an official U.S. Army documentary for The Big Picture television program which recounts the Army's efforts in France during the months of July and August 1944.

Eddie Powers was a regular guy, from a medium-sized city in west central Ohio.  Like so many millions of other Americans, Eddie went off to war to fight - and defeat - totalitarianism; he went to Europe to liberate the oppressed.  And just as was the fate for so many of his valiant Allied brothers in arms, he never again saw his own country or his home; Eddie never again saw his brothers and sisters, his mom or dad.

Duty, Honor, Country.