Barack Obama's . . .

. . . official photo.

Apparently, there is no position he isn't willing to change for political expediency.

Of course, one may say that of most politicians, but BHO has raised it to an art form not seen since John Kerrey.

WARNING: If you don't know what memento mori photography is, look it up before you read this post.

I am a professional engineer by trade, but also a genealogist and historian by avocation. A part of genealogy is the study not only of people, but of the customs and mores of the time.

During the Victorian period, and for sometime after, during the infancy of photography, it was common to take photos of loved ones after they died. Most people today find that practice to be morbid, but the study of genealogy requires a look at those pieces of our past that are not so pleasant.

The photo below is of Lela Maberry, my 2nd cousin, twice removed. She died in 1899 at age eleven. I found her memento mori in a box of photographs handed down by my g.g.grandmother

The kid with the largest head . . .

. . . ever recorded - would most likely be me.

I'm still rummaging through old photos, and I found this one taken at age three. I wonder if the barber charged my haircuts by the acre. For those of you who are younger than, oh, say DIRT, this is an example of portraiture back in the era just post Neanderthal extinction. It's hand colored.

My 5th great-grandfather . . .

. . . Stephen Wood, was a militiaman during the American Revolution. He was a private in the 6th company, Upper Battalion, Montgomery County Maryland Militia. I discovered this from an old pack of papers I received from my great-grandmother. Her father, my great-great-grandfather, developed a family tree in the early 1900's. I still have those old, yellow typewritten pages. With a little detective work, I obtained a copy of his baptism record from the Maryland archives. He's listed at the bottom left corner, along with Ninian Riley, his brother-in-law.

Other pages had records of actions taken by the church. I found a couple of entries very interesting:

"Also was agreed that Brother John Baker should be sensurd (illegible) from information that he has accustomd himself to gaming & so has incurd our displeasure."

"Also was agreed that Brother (illegible) Talbert be sensured for drinking to excess until the Lord shall give him repentance."

Stern folks, eh?

Although I had records of where Stephen was born, where he moved over the years, and concerning his death in Green County, IL in 1835, I learned that his tombstone had disappeared from the family plot. Unfortunately, the family plot is now on a privately owned farm, and has fallen into general disrepair.

Believing that a family member - especially a soldier - should have a proper grave marker, I turned to the U. S. Bureau of Veterans Affairs. According to law, any documented American soldier from any war is entitled to a government headstone (if he has no other), or a medallion to be attached to his private headstone - free of charge.

As with any government bureaucracy, red tape abounds. After filling out all of the required forms and providing the proper proof of service, I waited . . . and waited . . . and waited.

Finally, I called Veterans Affairs, and contacted a very nice, but rather . . . ummm . . . dense, I guess lady. The conversation went something like this, after I asked about the status:

Her: We have your application, but we need a little more information.

Me: I will give you anything you need, but I would like to make sure we receive the headstone.

Her: We need his Social Security number.

Me: (a bit taken aback) Pardon me?

Her: You know, a Social Security Number.

Me: Ma'am, Social Security started in 1935. He died 100 years before.

Her: Well then, can you give me his Army serial number?

Me: (Holding back a heavy sigh) Ma'am, he died in 1835. The Army didn't start issuing serial numbers until 1918.

Her: Oh, I didn't know that. I'll send the application on, then.

This is the headstone I received. It's now set in a cemetery in Carrollton, Greene County, Illinois, in a section with other Revolutionary War soldiers.

Requiecet in pace, g.g.g.g.g.grandfather.

Great Speeches by . . .

. . . United States presidents.

A house divided against itself cannot stand
- Abraham Lincoln

We have nothing to fear but fear itself
- Franklin D. Roosevelt

Ich bin ein Berliner
- John F. Kennedy

Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall
- Ronald W. Reagan

I did not have sex with THAT woman . . .
- William Jefferson Clinton

The Wheels on the bus . . .

. . . go round and round.

I take the bus to work most days. Unfortunately, I have to drive about half the way, then catch the express bus to the Naval Station. Fortunately, that last half is all crowded, unpredictable interstate, and the bus gets to take the HOV lane. HOV is High Occupancy Vehicle, for those of you who happen to have actual drivable highways.

In order to keep my sanity while busing my self from point B to point C, I've taken to reading. Since I took a speed reading course waaaaaaaay back in the second grade, I can read very quickly, and I go through books at a prodigious pace.

Last year, it was military history, including Flags of our Fathers, An Army at Dawn, A Soldier's Story, Flyboys, The Great Raid, Band of Brothers, and a dozen or so others.

This year, I switched to novels. I'm a great fan of James Patterson, Lee Child, Greg Iles, Michael Connelly, John Sandford and Stephen Hunter.

Right now, I'm in the middle of reading my way through a series of books by someone who is generally perceived as an author of "Bodice Rippers" - Nora Roberts. Except, this is her "Death" series written under the nom de plume of J. D. Robb. The novels are about a homicide detective, and are set in the late 2050's. Mild science fiction mixed with procedural mixed with mystery.

As a change of pace, I picked up this book. The name may be familiar to some of you. I haven't had the chance to read past the first page or so, since I'm still romancing Nora Roberts. However, the style seems to be very similar to the blog. Long, multiple sentence paragraphs are definitely in the minority. As to content . . . I'll let you know.

My Mother . . .

. . . the painter. Later in life, my Mother decided to create a painting for each of her five grandchildren - starting with the oldest first. Each grandchild chose the subject. She was only able to complete two paintings and a partial third before she died in 1989.

This is the one created for Lisa. I think it's an example of Mother's best work.

This landscape with hawk was created for the older of Lisa's two brothers. It's unframed, and has been packed away for more than 10 years. I retrieved it today when I saw the first painting on Lisa's blog. The hazy look is due to my photography - not her painting.