Does God decide who wins the Lottery?

We have another big Power Ball payoff tonight, close to 1/2 a billion dollars give or take a few million, and I was just trying to get a little inside track on winning this thing.

Now I'm sure for all of my true believer friends, my all-in or nothing friends, there is no question about this, "God decides all things". And I respect that opinion. I truly do.

As a matter of fact some of you recently helped me through a dark period when I pretty much had given up on my faith trying to understand how God lets people suffer and die. A nice couple, who have the strongest faith I have ever witnessed, told me to have faith and I did and the person who is dying has had some improvement. So, yes, I truly believe. But this is just me being kind of silly, so kind of bear with me here.

Okay. So let's just assume that God is in control here, where do you suppose on his list of important things is my or anyone else chance of winning the lottery. I mean there's a lot of people buying tickets and his bookkeepers have got to be going crazy trying to give Him all the data so He can decide who the winner will be.

And what about prayer. I saw a lady, as I was buying my lotto ticket for tonight's big payoff, I saw her make the sign of the cross right before the cashier punched in the information. Does that help?  I have to admit I kinda faked a real quick one acting like I was brushing something off my shirt just so I at least would have a level playing field with her.

Does God's bookkeepers keep a tally of who have said the most prayers and proclaim them the winners?

I remember as a young kid playing baseball, I was pitching for the B.O. K. team and some kid made the sign of the cross as he got up to the plate. I thought, "crap", he's got an edge on me now"...so I whipped out not only one but two signs of the cross right before I began my windup. I fired my fast ball fully expecting to strike him out and he hit the dang thing for a home run.

Looking back, that probably was part of the reason I began to question my faith.

And even when praying...you got to be doing it right.

I can remember in catholic school for my first eight years of education at Our Lady of Mercy in Dayton, Ohio.  We had to start every school day by going to church first. We would kneel for almost an hour and had to have our hands folded perfectly in prayer. It never failed, that a nun would crack my knuckles with her ruler if my hands weren't folded exactly right. I'd follow her directions but as she walked down the aisle, and in church no less, I would slightly raise that middle finger as my hands were folded in prayer. I kinda think God was winking at me on that one.

So anyway, back to the Lottery.

I've made all the promises to God, just like everyone else I suppose. I would give a great big portion of the winnings to charity. I'll give a whole lot to family. I might even give some to the city. I'll help out the animal shelters. I'll adopt a whole bunch of doggies and maybe a cat or two, well maybe I'll just pay for someone to adopt the cat. I'll have free beer at the bars. I'll buy free meals at restaurants. Heck, I'll even throw money from a helicopter. I'll do it all if I win that thing.

So, I guess I have answered my own question if God had anything to do with winning the lottery.

The one thing I have learned is...You can't win if you don't play

Good luck!.

On losing one's Superpowers...

I had the rare opportunity this past week to sit down and chat with one of my all-time heroes, Mr. Clark Kent, also known as Superman. (Well, at least it was a dream I had last night.)




Me: Mr. Kent, er...Superman, thank you so much for a chance of a lifetime to be able to talk with you. Sir, should I call you Superman or Clark or Mr. Kent?

Superman: Tommy, you can call me whatever you want, just be sure and call me for dinner! That's kind of a joke we tell here at the Home.

Me: Superman, I remember you as far back as 1952 and watching you on a little 6 " Emerson yellow screen TV. It was just magic seeing you fly. Do you remember those days?

Superman: Did you say TV, yep, I have one right here in my room. We have a bigger one downstairs where everybody gathers to play Bingo on Thursdays. Do you like to play Bingo?. I won last week. I  think.

Me: Sir, you been portrayed so many times on TV, in the movies, as a child in Smallville. You've had love interests, you've gone back in time...what was one of your favorite accomplishments.

Superman: What did you say your name was again. oh Tommy....well, one of the more recent things I accomplished that gave me a lot of pleasure was I had a really good BM this morning. You can ask the nurse. And I even made it to the bathroom on time.

Me: Superman, I mentioned love interests, do you ever see Lois Lane anymore. Were you intimate with her?

Superman: Well, I think we have a Lois somewhere down the hallway. I think she's kinda pretty. She don't play Bingo worth a dang tho.

Me: Sir, I'm curious, do you still have most of your superpowers?

Superman: Well my hearing is slightly off, and my memory is slippin' a little bit. I don't have to worry about zippin' up my britches though cuz I just wear this onesie. I still got all my teeth, that reminds me could you hand them to me, they're sittin on the table over there. Do you know if it's time for lunch yet?

Me: Well Superman, ...um...Superman....hello Superman, I think you dozed off a little bit there. As you're getting older do you look back and think of anything that you might have done differently.

Superman: Well, I wish I hadn't eaten the asparagus last night for dinner. You know it just seems to give me gas.

Me: Superman, I want to thank you for your time. You've made me realize that there comes a time when we have to face up to reality and accept life and appreciate the time we have had on this earth.

Superman: Yep, I like those reality shows. Boy, that Tyra Banks is a humdinger. She sure is tall. Sonny, have they called for dinner yet?

To me, High School was a higher level of socialization as well as a higher level of education

Summer has barely begun and already kids are heading back to school. And with that comes some memories.

To those of you who have ever owned a boat you know that the two best days in your life as a boat owner is the day you buy the boat and the day you sell the boat. I think the same thing stands true for going to high school. Obviously, the last day of school speaks for itself. But the first day of the school year, well now that's a wonderful day as well.

For me at Fairview High School in Dayton, Ohio there were three criteria that would determine how successful my school year would be and the needed steps would line up like the the stars at night depending on how each fell into place. Hopefully in complete harmony.

First: The classes that I had signed up for.

I was in what was referred to as the College Prep program. Coming from a parochial school, Our Lady of Mercy, apparently my counselor, Mrs. Culp, gave me much more credit for being smarter than I was. Each year I was plagued with having to take hard courses like Advanced Biology, Chemistry and German. Dang people, I was in high school to have fun not learn anything. I think they added a sub-division to the College Prep curriculum after I graduated and called it College Prep/CYA. That stood for Cover Your Ass, which was what I would have to do each subsequent year by taking more General Education classes just so I wouldn't get sent back a year.

So, as each school year began, I would get my schedule and estimate just how much I would have to put into it. I always set my sites on a "C", that way I figured I could get by without doing anything including homework and if I applied myself even the slightest I would look like potential National Honor Society material.

Second: Who was in my class.

Each year's social season is based on how many people you could see in one day either in the hallways or classroom. The first class of the day was Homeroom. It's purpose was to ....um....er....hmm, let's see. The purpose of the Homeroom was to...well, I guess it was where the first attendance was taken for the day. Most of the time, I barely got into my seat by the time the first bell rang. About all I can remember about Homeroom was that I stared at the back of Scott Kelso's head for four years and John Kimmel stared at the back of mine for four years, always asking me what  was I doing the next weekend.

For the rest of the classes tho, it was always exciting to see who was going to be in your class. Most of the time it gave you a chance to meet and get to know more people; ergo. the Socialization part of learning, Sometimes tho, if you were in the same class of someone you had recently had a falling-out with, known as "breakup", you were screwed because you would have to suffer stares and glares for a whole semester.
In addition to being in the same class, proper seating locations was just as important. Usually you got stuck behind that same head you had already been staring at during Homeroom. The classroom was the center point for catching up on any news that had occurred in just the previous hour. You have to remember, we didn't have texting back then and there were only two ways of passing along important stuff like who is dating who. Either you sent it by folded up notes or left a note in someone's locker through the little vent hole. And that leads me to the third criteria.

Third: Locker Assignments.

I have no idea and maybe some of my friends who later became teachers can help me......Who in the heck assigns lockers in a school?

In four years of high school, I had two of the best locations and two of the worst locations. Fortunately, my senior year was one of my best locations. It was very near to the area we referred to as "Third and Main". It was the center point for traffic as people when back and forth to class. You could see friends, you could pass messages, you could exchange homework in split seconds. You could arrange dates, heck you could even "break-up" as in the fore mentioned situation. The downside of that specific location was that it was near the Offices and you weren't allowed a lot of horseplay. One of the worst locker locations was down in the Shop area where you were completely shutoff from conversation with the opposite sex.  And as I said, that was the whole purpose of High School....It was about Socialization.

 Yes, the first day of school was terrific. And, each following day was almost as much fun. Would I have been a better person had I spent more time at  academic education?  Perhaps. But then I wouldn't have had as many fun stories to tell.

Have a great day and have some great memories.

The 5 tallest peaks I conquered.......as a young boy

I grew up in the mountainous regions of Dayton, Ohio......WHOA, WHOA, WHOA.....Hold on now. Don't go thinking this is one of my stories where I tend to stretch the truth. The operative words here are "grew up". And, when you are a 8 or 9 year old boy trying to pump your bike up a tall hill, to you it is Mt. Everest, and you wonder if you will ever succeed or simply die on the slope. So yes, to a young Skeeter kid, it WAS a mountainous region.

Now, let me finish and see if you don't agree with me or maybe you have some choices of your own.

Where I grew up on Sandhurst Drive in Dayton, our home was only a block from the Stillwater River. And being located that close to the river, obviously we sat low in the kinda valley, and since the river flowed North to South, as most rivers do, that meant that venturing either West or East was going to be an upward journey.

The first peak that I conquered was going west on Siebenthaler and was just a block away and ran parallel to Sandhurst. I learned to hike the peak on foot before I tried it on my bike early on as I would walk to school with my friend, Bobby Ritter., . We would leave about 15 minutes before the bell rang at Our Lady of Mercy catholic school, taking our time as we looked for cigarette butts that we might smoke along the way.

The school and church were only midway up the hill, so we didn't have to top the crest. Occasionally though when I rode my bike up Siebenthaler I would pump to the top to go meet some of friends from school at their hilltop homes. It was tough, and little did I know I was building up my body for even greater challenges.

The second peak was also on Siebenthaler, but this time it was going from west to east. There was a wonderful arch bridge that crossed the Stillwater River that I mentioned earlier. Since the bridge was high above the river, you could get a pretty good speed built up as you crossed it and headed down a steep slope that would give you enough momentum to at least get to the Deweese Parkway turn, which again was just about midway going up East Siebenthaler. But here again, the last several hundred feet was going to be the toughest. I would stand on each pedal trying to move my bike just a few more inches. We didn't have any fancy 3 speed or let alone 10 speed bikes back in those days. You just gutted it out.

Number three was Wampler Avenue. This summit had to be conquered simply out of necessity. It was on the direct route to Loos School/Woods where I would spend every summer. It also was only a block away from where I would pick up my Dayton Daily Newspapers at the corner of Daleview and Melford,  which I would then throw from my bike. The pump up the hill was savage, but the mountain though did had it's pluses. It was the finest place to go sled riding in the neighborhood. Also, we would ride our soap box carts made out of anything that had wheels down the peak racing each other as we flew down the street.

The fourth peak on my list of accomplishments was Hillcrest Avenue. The name itself indicated that it was ominous. I had a friend who lived off of Hillcrest, Jerry Anthony, but again, the saving grace was that his street was about midway and I could get a break. Another plus was that the cutest girl lived on Hillcrest, right after you topped the highest part of the mountain, and all of your efforts were rewarded if  Linda Koogler happened to be in her front yard. Seeing her would cause you to peddle even faster as if the climb had been a piece of cake.

And finally, Mt Everest itself. Drill Hill. It was actually named Drill Avenue but we knew it as Drill Hill, or sometimes Hell Hill. The meanest, the cruelest, the most unforgiving peak in my small world. It wasn't on any routine path of mine and fortunately there were other routes where you could use to bypass the ferocious summit. I'd be lying if I told you that I rode to the top of Drill Hill without having to get off of my bike. I did get off. Several times. But I eventually made it. It made me proud.

I remember one time driving up Drill Hill a few years later in my '53 Chevy. I had to climb it in first gear just to give you an idea how steep one of nature's (and man's) greatest creations could be.

So there you have it. Five mountains in my small world. Each conquered one at a time. Memories that I am glad I have.

Happy 80th Birthday, dear friend

Forty-five years ago I had the privilege of meeting a young man, an Air Force navigator who was returning stateside, after routinely risking his life flying "low and slow missions" barely above the treetops of the jungles of Vietnam..

E.K. Loving, or always known to me as Maj. Loving, the rank he held when he showed up at the Base Information Office at Langley AFB, Va., was just thirty-five years old at the time, about ten years older than me. He was a seasoned officer but I wasn't sure if that experience would be enough to handle a bunch of "rogue" characters in our Information Office. Turns out, his experience as a leader   made my particular career in the military not only fun but extremely rewarding.

We were kind of a rag-tag type operation before he got there, somewhat like the background guys in the movie "Good Morning, Vietnam" with the late Robin Williams. We didn't do any crazy stuff, but we tended to be a little shaggy haired, scuffed shoes-type, crumbled slept-in uniform types. We also were more educated then the average enlisted man at the time with all of us having been college educated to some degree. I guess maybe it was fate or maybe "Karma" that we ended up under Maj. Loving's command.

My main job in the Information Office at that time was the editor of the Langley Flyer, the base newspaper for all of the personnel stationed there as well as their families. In addition to the newspaper we had a Public Information division that handled any and everything about news or publicity that would have to do with the base.

Maj. Loving called me into his office a few days after he had gotten settled in. He said, "Sgt. Kender, ...Tom, I know you guys are used to doing things around here your way. Well, apparently, that works. All I ask is that you keep me informed and keep us out of trouble." He knew when something was working right and felt like change wasn't needed simply for change purposes. Plus he trusted us.

I guess for a navigaor used to flying dangerous missions over Vietnam, he knew it was important to work as a team. I took his words to heart. I told the people working under me to get a damn haircut, shine their shoes and wear a clean uniform to work each day. I also told them to keep writing the stories that they have been writing, but let's even do a better job than we had been doing.

I said we have a new sheriff in town and he has already earned my respect. He was truly a leader.

The next year the base newspaper, The Langley Flyer, won best base newspaper in the Command. It was a major accomplishment in our world and  it was a big deal to all of us, especially Maj. Loving.

The following year I was reassigned to TAC Command, also located at Langley, but I stayed in touch with everyone at the base Information Office on a daily basis, including the Major. We had become friends by then.

Our paths never crossed again until a few years ago when I found him as well as some other members of our office on Facebook.

Major Loving taught us how to lead by example. He was a good man back then and a better man now. I know I improved my character just by being around him.

I salute your sir, on your 80th birthday. Not only as warrior who protected our country but as a friend.

Happy Birthday,

Sarge Kender

Nicknames....we all had them..... I think?

My friend Eddie recently posted an image on Facebook of the Disney star from years ago, "Moochie",  referencing another "Mooch" who has been in the news recently. The child actor "Moochie",  that we baby-boomers grew up with, was one of many kid stars that causes me to smile as I remember the early days of television. There were also names like Stymie, Buckwheat, Kingfish, and Butch that reflected the mannerisms of those we watched.

I figured everyone had a nickname of some kind. And, interesting enough, some of us have carried that nickname with us all these years.

As Eddie got a little older, his nickname evolved into Fast Eddie, from the movie "The Hustler". Fast Eddie could shoot a mean stick at the Northtown Pool Hall. And even there you would find characters like Pat Colley, who we called "Fats", again based on a guy from the same movie, known as"Minnesota Fats". Pat not only fit the size but he too shot a mean stick and was kind of a hustler. He did enjoy wearing the moniker.

As some of you know, I was knighted with the name "Skeeter" early on. I'm not even sure where the name came from. The person awarding me the title was my friend "The Jer". I still use the Skeeter non de plume when I want to get into character and write stories from my childhood.

We had a kid in the neighborhood, I guess he was the bully that everybody dreaded. His name was "Duck". We called him that because his first name was Huey, after Donald Duck's brothers, Huey, Dewey, and Louy. I'm not sure if we ever called him that to his face though. Maybe that was what set him off every now and then.

Another kid that Eddie, or rather Fast Eddie, reminded me of, was a kid named Eric. His nickname was "Zero" and that was given to him I think by his teacher at Loos Elementary School. I'll let Eddie tell the story if he reads this. It had something to do with the "Zero" getting all of the questions on a test wrong, including even spelling his name incorrectly.

I remember my friend, "The Jer's" dad had a nickname also. His wife, Evelyn always called him, "Bud". I think that was the name of the son on the tv show "Father Knows Best".

I don't know, maybe it's just politically incorrect these days or maybe the so called experts think it is wrong for a child to have a nickname. Maybe the children are too sensitive and God forbid if they are called by something other than their given name.

Another nickname that comes to mind is my friend Bill Bridges. I always thought of him as "Rocky", a name he wore honorably growing up.

My friend P.J. went by his initials in high school. But now that he's all grown up, it's been changed to Paul. Well, except for me and a few others, because he'll always be P.J. to me.

I still use the child-like version of my christian name, Thomas. Many friends still call me Tommy and I enjoy that. It makes me feel young. I dabbled a little bit years ago using the Spanish version Tomas, but that didn't pan out very well.

No doubt there were negative nicknames out there as well. I guess that's part of growing up.

I guess there could have been worse names, "Butthead" or "Buggers".

If anyone has any nicknames that they want to share, I'd love to hear them.

This here's Skeeter signing off.