DICKIE THE DEVIL - Feb. 14, 2011
He was a devil, alright. Really. He was. My brother. “Dickie the Devil.”
I was around 5 or 6 years old when my parents left me alone with that monster. We were at my grandparents’ house in Burlington, North Carolina. The whole family went somewhere and left my brother in charge of me for what seemed liked months. It was actually only an hour or so. But the torture made it seem like forever.
He and I sat peacefully on the bank of my grandparents’ yard on Maple Avenue that summer day. We were just kind of kicking back and enjoying the day. It was warm and lazy, and my love and admiration of my older brother was just starting to blossom. We were both engaged in the moment. I remember pointing out to him the pink and fluffy blooms on my grandmother’s mimosa tree at the edge of her yard. My brother seemed a bit interested, but it would have been terribly un-cool of him to show more emotion than he did. That tiny bit of interest from him generated enough enthusiasm in me to pick myself up off the red clay bank near the sidewalk and run to the mimosa tree. I picked one of those beautiful pink, white and black blossoms and ran it back to my brother, begging for his approval with every “Look. Look at this, Dickie” I could muster. I soon found out why he seemed just a bit interested.
The closer I got to him with that blossom, the brighter the twinkle in his eye became. “Yes,” I thought. “Finally my brother is interested in me.” I remember being very excited. When I reached my brother, I held that flower out to him and said, “Touch it, Dickie.” He looked at me. His face showed shock and his eyes were troubled. “Come on. Touch it. It’s so fluffy.”
“Get that thing away from me,” he said.
“What?”
“That thing is poisonous,” he continued. “Wow. And you’ve touched it. That’s not good.”
“What?” I asked again.
“Oh yeh. This is trouble, alright.”
I panicked. “Well do something! What can we do? Help me!”
“Well,” he said, “there’s only one thing we can do. If we don’t do it, you will die.”
“Do it then, okay? I don’t want to die,” I screamed.
“Well, we’ll have to amputate,” he told me.
“Okay,” I said. “Do it then. What does that mean?”
My brother, as serious as I had ever seen him, said to me, “We’re gonna have to cut off your fingers.”
I don’t know why, but I did trust the jerk that time. He led me into the downstairs bathroom where my granddad had an old razor and razor blades. And I followed my brother blindly into that torture chamber. My brother closed the bathroom door. He pulled the blade from the razor and reached out for my hand. He held my hand and inched the blade ever closer, telling me the whole time that he had to do what he had to do to save my life. I was afraid. I was very afraid. But at the same time, I thought, “Dickie’s trying to save my life. He must really love me then.”
I could almost feel that dammed rusty old razor blade on my skin when my mom and grandparents came home and abruptly stopped the finger massacre. When I found out the truth, I hated that devil. And as much as I hated my brother at that time, at the moment she entered the bathroom, I loved my mama a hundred times more.
Now, this was an extreme brotherly experience. Had my mom not come back to Maple Avenue when she did, would he have cut off my fingers? You’ll have to ask Dickie The Devil that. Back then, he would have surely answered, “Yes.” I’ve known all along that he wouldn’t have. Well... I think anyway.
Click HERE to explore The Lunar Report.
Click HERE for "No Shame" on Moon Angels.
I was around 5 or 6 years old when my parents left me alone with that monster. We were at my grandparents’ house in Burlington, North Carolina. The whole family went somewhere and left my brother in charge of me for what seemed liked months. It was actually only an hour or so. But the torture made it seem like forever.
He and I sat peacefully on the bank of my grandparents’ yard on Maple Avenue that summer day. We were just kind of kicking back and enjoying the day. It was warm and lazy, and my love and admiration of my older brother was just starting to blossom. We were both engaged in the moment. I remember pointing out to him the pink and fluffy blooms on my grandmother’s mimosa tree at the edge of her yard. My brother seemed a bit interested, but it would have been terribly un-cool of him to show more emotion than he did. That tiny bit of interest from him generated enough enthusiasm in me to pick myself up off the red clay bank near the sidewalk and run to the mimosa tree. I picked one of those beautiful pink, white and black blossoms and ran it back to my brother, begging for his approval with every “Look. Look at this, Dickie” I could muster. I soon found out why he seemed just a bit interested.
The closer I got to him with that blossom, the brighter the twinkle in his eye became. “Yes,” I thought. “Finally my brother is interested in me.” I remember being very excited. When I reached my brother, I held that flower out to him and said, “Touch it, Dickie.” He looked at me. His face showed shock and his eyes were troubled. “Come on. Touch it. It’s so fluffy.”
“Get that thing away from me,” he said.
“What?”
“That thing is poisonous,” he continued. “Wow. And you’ve touched it. That’s not good.”
“What?” I asked again.
“Oh yeh. This is trouble, alright.”
I panicked. “Well do something! What can we do? Help me!”
“Well,” he said, “there’s only one thing we can do. If we don’t do it, you will die.”
“Do it then, okay? I don’t want to die,” I screamed.
“Well, we’ll have to amputate,” he told me.
“Okay,” I said. “Do it then. What does that mean?”
My brother, as serious as I had ever seen him, said to me, “We’re gonna have to cut off your fingers.”
I don’t know why, but I did trust the jerk that time. He led me into the downstairs bathroom where my granddad had an old razor and razor blades. And I followed my brother blindly into that torture chamber. My brother closed the bathroom door. He pulled the blade from the razor and reached out for my hand. He held my hand and inched the blade ever closer, telling me the whole time that he had to do what he had to do to save my life. I was afraid. I was very afraid. But at the same time, I thought, “Dickie’s trying to save my life. He must really love me then.”
I could almost feel that dammed rusty old razor blade on my skin when my mom and grandparents came home and abruptly stopped the finger massacre. When I found out the truth, I hated that devil. And as much as I hated my brother at that time, at the moment she entered the bathroom, I loved my mama a hundred times more.
Now, this was an extreme brotherly experience. Had my mom not come back to Maple Avenue when she did, would he have cut off my fingers? You’ll have to ask Dickie The Devil that. Back then, he would have surely answered, “Yes.” I’ve known all along that he wouldn’t have. Well... I think anyway.
Click HERE to explore The Lunar Report.
Click HERE for "No Shame" on Moon Angels.
Posted by David Moon at 2/14/2011 8:54 AM 
Categories: uncategorized
Tags: Life humor advice encouragement courage people family inspiration understanding angels passion givin
Categories: uncategorized
Tags: Life humor advice encouragement courage people family inspiration understanding angels passion givin
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Yet God is so one that He admits of distinction, and so admits of distinction that He still remains unity.
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My wife Mary and I have been married for forty-seven years and not once have we had an argument serious enough to consider divorce; murder, yes, but divorce, never.
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Широкополосный доступ в интернет сделал возможным испытание ТВ передач и фильмов высокой четкости онлайн, для вашем компьютере. Часто абсолютно бесплатно. А беспричинно, наравне большинство компьютеров еще и может произносить DVD диски, а некоторые и Blueray то отпадает надобность в DVD и Blueray плеерах, соответственно. Всетаки, использовать относительно небольшой компьютерный монитор для этих целей когда близко без дела стоит большущий HD телевизор, было желание как-то не логично. Избежать этой ситуации дозволительно подключив ваш компьютер к телевизору, используя HDMI либо HDMI-DVI кабель. Таким образом, вы сможете восторгаться мультимедийными возможностями вашего компьютера, возьмем, сидя на диване в гостиной.
[b]Высокое разрешение.[/b]
Ради передачи изображение высокой четкости необходим интерфейс, обладающий соответствующими характеристиками. Именно поэтому, использование стандартного «тюльпана» разве S-Video чтобы соединения между компьютером и HD телевизором не сможет обеспечить всей четкости изображения. В конце концов, эти интерфейсы были разработаны прежде перед появления HD стандартов. HDMI кабель, наподобие раз обратно, предназначен ради передачи высококачественного, несжатого видеосигнала.
[b]Звук.[/b]
Некоторые намерение кабеля, такие, сиречь S-Video, не предназначены для передачи аудиосигнала. Что касается HDMI кабеля, то он кроме изображения, в состоянии рассказывать многоканальный цифровой аудиосигнал. Также, в дополнению к стандартному звуку, он поддерживает такие стандарты, наравне Dolby Constant HD и DTS-HD Pro Audio, однако в конечном итоге безвыездно зависит от возможностей вашего компьютера.
[b]HDMI-DVI кабель.[/b]
И что большинство современных компьютеров имеют HDMI разъем, совершенно же хватит нередко позволительно встретить компьютер без такового. К счастью, HDMI разъем обладает обратной совместимостью с вторично более распространенным DVI разъемом. Окончательный довольно сложно спутать с разъемом HDMI, поэтому около подключении проблем не должно возникнуть даже у человека вполне не знакомого с этими интерфейсами.
[b]Длина кабеля.[/b]
В продаже наиболее распространен кабель длиной через 1,2м прежде 5м. Тогда, словно постановление, всегда простой, берется тот кабель, какой обеспечит максимальное комфорт подключения.
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Одним из видов эффективной и ненавязчивой рекламы являются рекламные таблички, которые представляют собой небольшие информационные таблички с привлекательной информацией о компании, товарах, услугах, акциях или специальных предложениях. Целью такого вида рекламы является неназойливое, деликатное привлечение внимания потенциальных потребителей, которые буквально на ходу бегло читают рекламные таблички, и, попутно, не отвлекаясь от своего основного занятия, получают интересную и полезную информацию. Этот вид рекламы очень популярен, поскольку информационные таблички мягко воздействуют на сознание потенциальных клиентов или потребителей, а сведения, размещённые на ней, прочно закрепляются в памяти. А когда человек сталкивается с необходимостью приобретения какого-либо товара, услуги или просто в магазине встречает знакомое название, то в его сознании сразу же возникает информация, с которой он уже знаком. Поэтому человек доверяется своим воспоминаниям и приобретает «знакомый» товар. Именно так, ненавязчиво, но очень действенно работают информационные рекламные таблички, которые встречаются нам буквально на каждом шагу.
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