Sunday, December 06, 2009

Christmas Lights

The Saturday after Thanksgiving, our decorator-minded daughter came by long enough to rework wreathes that Barbara and I had labored on the previous day.

“They need to be fuller,” Rayanne protested, then proceeded to attach old wreathes behind our new ones.

She also added a red mesh ribbon to the outside of each wreath, “to give them more color.”

Not even the “Reindeer Wreath” that has served, for several years, as the main decoration for our guest house was suitable in its present form for Rayanne’s taste, so it, too, got a makeover. However, I managed to place the spotlights in the right places and none had to be re-staked.
No doubt, Rayanne’s handiwork was an improvement and was certainly appreciated, but I was left wondering why Barbara and I spent the better part of a day doing something our daughter would only redo.

Over the weekend, Barbara and I made more progress in decorating for Christmas. After getting our pre-lit artificial Christmas Tree out of the attic and assembled, Barbara set about placing the ornaments and bows on it, while I took a break to mulch leaves behind my sister’s house and the house of her neighbor. The temperature was in the high thirties when I started and was near freezing when I quit.

Barbara’s still adding decorations to our tree, but Jason and I are saying, “Enough already.”
He and I prefer trees not dominated by lights, ribbons, and ornaments. We like to see some of the green that is the tree. In our minds, the rules for decorating Christmas Trees should follow along the lines of life, namely, “all things in moderation.”

Sister Sue has already asked when we were going to put an angel atop the tree. Rayanne hasn’t been over to add her touches, and with the Christmas program she and the band, StillTime, will be doing in lieu of her church having a Christmas Cantata, there may not be time for her to rework her parent’s Christmas Tree.

We will have a Merry Christmas at our house, whether the decorations suit everyone or not and wish the same to all our family and friends. Merry Christmas, y’all!

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Thanksgiving At Felicia's

Rembember when you were small and your family loaded into their car (or whatever) and went to Grandma’s house for Thanksgiving? Maybe, you are the grandma and it’s your family that’s coming to your house. Maybe, you’re like me and Grandma and Mama are both deceased, and it’s either your responsibility or perhaps the responsibility of your sibling to host the family gathering.

Several years ago, my sister volunteered her home for Thanksgiving with the understanding Barbara and I would host everyone for Christmas. Our arrangement worked well enough until my niece got married, and she wanted us to come to her house. Of course she still wanted my sister to do the bulk of the cooking, but, this way, she could spend Thanksgiving with her family as well as several members of her husband’s family. The new arrangement started with our 2008 Thanksgiving and worked so well we allowed Felicia to host our respective families for Thanksgiving 2009.

We only had thirteen people for the Thanksgiving meal this year, due to the rotation system that prevents certain family members being present every year, as they live too far away to attend two different family gatherings in the same day. We had enough food to feed thirteen more people though only eight of our regulars were unaccounted for.

Felicia’s husband, Cullen Pollard, led us in the saying of grace before our meal and mentioned our collective thankfulness for the blessings of our nation and our families.

My, oh my, at the food we had! Sara Sue prepared a spiral sliced baked ham, and roasted a turkey breast, while Felicia heated the smoked turkey breast. Additionally we had ~ a grape salad, idiot's delight frozen salad, cornbread dressing, hash brown casserole, chicken pot pie, sweet potato casserole, sausage balls, cranberry sauce, carrot soufflĂ©, corn & green bean casserole, baked ham, gravy, mashed potatoes and Barbara Anne’s homemade rolls. Desserts were plentiful as well ~ Chocolate layer cake, sweet potato pie (my favorite), pumpkin pie, pumpkin roll, and pecan pie, all made by Sister Sue.

Except for Sara’s cornbread dressing snafu, it may have been the grandest of our Thanksgiving feasts. The greenish colored dressing would perhaps have been more appetizing had we been celebrating Christmas, but it was edible. Sara blames what she described as a late-night-purchased, off-brand, poultry seasoning for the color. Though she said it looked normal before she went to bed Wednesday night, it developed an odd hue by daylight.

In addition to our family we were privileged to share our bounty with two family friends, Sam Lester of Pontotoc and Natalie Carpenter of Oxford. Sam is a friend of my son, Jason, and Natalie, whose Ripley, TN family lives too far from Oxford for a one-day trip, is a friend of Felicia’s. These two were made to feel at home with us, and we’d love to have either or both of them back again.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Thanksgiving 2009

The Christmas Season is already in full gear, at least on the retail side, but it wasn’t always like that. There was a time when Christmas was celebrated far more simply than today. We shouldn’t blame the merchants for the commercialization of Christmas; consumers are as much to blame as anyone. It is this need many feel to plunge headlong into buying and decorating for Christmas even before Thanksgiving that I find disturbing.

My favorite holiday is Christmas, for reasons too many to enumerate here, but I particularly like the gift-giving and gift-receiving aspects of Christmas. I also appreciate the sounds of the season, Christmas Carols and the Holiday Greetings including the generic term, “Happy Holidays.” Yes, I prefer “Merry Christmas,” but even the generic term adds to the feeling of Christmas.

It seems we need not only the month of December to celebrate Christmas, but we require more and more of November in order to prepare for December. All this serves to shortchange Thanksgiving Day. Thanksgiving should be celebrated as a religious holiday. It’s more than a feast day to gather with family and/ or friends. It’s a day to honor and to thank Almighty God for, historically, a bountiful harvest and presently for all that we have and enjoy in this great land.

God, not “the government,” has richly blessed our nation. Though, the liberals of this land would have us believe they are the source of our blessings, Christian hearts know otherwise.

This Thanksgiving I am thankful for my salvation and all that God has entrusted to me, a loving wife and two wonderful children, a son-in-law, and three granddaughters. Beyond my immediate family, I’m thankful for my sister, two brothers, and all who comprise their respective families. I’m thankful for my one remaining uncle and for a passel of cousins. For good health and a house much finer than I ever imagined, that I proudly call home, and for work that is rewarding, I am truly thankful. For friends, close and far away, some I’ve never met face to face but are friends, nonetheless, I am also thankful.

My prayer is that God will see fit to continue to bless all in my household and all my relatives and friends. I pray that our nation will soon recognize that all we have is a gift from God, and will truly praise Him.

This Thanksgiving Day, my family will join my sister’s family (those of us not obligated to be elsewhere) to celebrate the day in the home of my niece and her husband, Felicia and Cullen Pollard. I’ve not seen the menu, but it’s sure to include turkey, ham, cornbread dressing, sweet potatoes, creamed potatoes, green bean casserole, and Barbara Anne’s homemade rolls. In a typical year, there are five or more desserts (seven pictured above), sweet potato pie, pecan pie, pumpkin roll, and a couple of cakes. Somehow, I must restrain myself and not overeat.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Know Your Limitations


Working out of my territory is not without its challenges. Consider finding a motel and decent places to eat when you’re four-hundred fifty miles from home, have never been at that location before, and your coworkers are not staying in the same town as you are. And, being on the eastern side of the Central Standard Time zone means it’s dark way earlier than you expect, so finding your way around at night in an unfamiliar environment has its own set of perils.

While the foregoing reasons are sufficient for illustrating my point, they pale in comparison to a challenge I stumbled onto today. I am, by nature, curious about how things work and consider it a challenge to fix anything that needs fixing. Couple this with my problem-solving brain and most anything can happen.

The Florida retailer I’m working with this week owns a family business. He and his wife and their son successfully manage their modest IGA supermarket and are “doing well.” They’re in the process of adding gas pumps on the parking lot of the supermarket, which of itself can top more than a half-million dollars in startup costs. The RV that they drove to Mississippi earlier this year to meet me at one of my fuel retailers is more than modest. By my standards, they’re wealthy, but they don’t flaunt it. They dress modestly and except for some stone-heavy rings, you’d think they’re just regular folks.

My coworker and I were to join the owners of the supermarket for lunch, and, thinking it was later than it was, the wife asked us, “When do y’all want to eat, eleven, eleven-thirty or twelve?”

I thought it a strange question as it wasn’t even ten o’clock.

“What time is it?” she asked. “I haven’t changed my watch back off daylight saving time. I need to, but I can’t get the stem pulled out to change the time.”

“SuperWayne” hearing a damsel in distress, responded, “Let me give it a try.”

She extended her arm, and I wedged a fingernail behind the stem, but nothing budged.

“Here, let me take it off,” she offered.

She unbuckled the gold-link band and slipped the watch off her wrist.

Again, I wedged a nail between the watch and the stem and pried, to no avail. Thinking I would only break a nail if I added more pressure, I reached for my pocket knife. I gently slid the blade into the same area where my fingernails had failed and applied a little outward pressure.

I remember thinking, “I’d hate to break the stem.”

Simultaneously, my bifocals focused squarely on the brand name on the face of the watch. It read ROLEX.

“Oh, Lord, thank you for stopping my reckless behavior,” I prayed or maybe I didn’t, but I should have.

I, humbly, handed the watch to her, stating, “I recommend you take this to a jeweler and let him get the stem pulled out. I don’t want to break anything.”

Friends, that’s the only time in my life I’ve held a genuine Rolex in my hands, and I’m truly thankful I didn’t damage it. On my salary, there’s no place in the family budget for Rolex repairs.
This afternoon, her husband was in the store and she mentioned her timepiece problem to him. He quickly fixed it. It seems he, too, has a Rolex.

“You have to turn the stem backwards,” he explained. “That unlocks it, and it pops out so you can reset the time. You just have to remember to lock it back afterwards. Not doing so is how I got water into mine.”

SuperWayne, Superman, and other Super Men, know their limitations. And, it is how they handle those limitations that make them SUPER.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Poor Communications

It was just one of those days, where it seems everything I saw was funny in one way or another. Driving to Indianola this morning, I stopped at an intersection where a new house is under construction on Hwy. 32 west of Bruce, MS. The ‘tin’ roof is in place, but the windows are not. What struck me as funny was the chimney sitting some distance away from the house.

I should have taken a picture right then and there, but I waited until returning home this afternoon, and the result may give you a better idea of why my car needs washing than what I though was an odd sighting.

If you think the Postal System’s a joke, or that most government workers are less than helpful, let alone necessary, then you’ll appreciate my thought. Otherwise, stop reading now, and go back to viewing news feeds on Facebook.

In my mind I saw two different government agencies directing the work on the house. One was in charge of the fireplace and chimney and the other was responsible for getting the house ‘in the dry.’ Apparently, they failed to communicate with each other. Hilarious? No, but I though it was humorous.

Were the picture clearer, you’d know the chimney is all that remains from an old home place, which partially explains why it’s standing near the new construction. But, unless it has sentimental value, I expect it will soon be taken down.

I have the feeling that should the Senate okay what will become a government-run Health Care System, I’ll be looking for lots more laughable sightings, and doing my darnedest to stay healthy.

Sunday, November 08, 2009

Class Of '60 Monthly Meetings

The PHS Class of ’60 would like to invite its members and spouses to start gathering on a monthly basis. A full-fledged class reunion is scheduled for Memorial Day, 2010. However, several classmates are discussing the formation of a monthly meeting, where graduates and spouses would come together for a time of fellowship that included a meal.

Right now, consideration is being given to setting a date, such as the second or third Friday of every month for the meeting, and we are looking at possibly meeting at a local restaurant for a noon meal.

We feel with the Holiday Season fast approaching, it might be best to start our meetings in January. Once a routine is established, it will be easier for the class meetings to continue even when holidays create attendance interruptions.

Because a high percentage of our class lives in or near Pontotoc, we anticipate a monthly meeting would be well attended. We also welcome classmates, who for various reasons were unable to graduate with the class of 1960.

More information will follow, but persons interested in the January meeting should contact one of the following:

Laney Lemons Sims
Phyllis Crane Wardlaw
Linda Jones Wingo
Wayne Carter
Larry Easterling
Terry Stewart

Sunday, November 01, 2009

Needs Ironing


As I stopped by the laundry room to check on some clothes in the dryer, my wife was already unloading them. She handed me a shirt, one I’ve taken to wearing for yard work, largely because it requires ironing. Since buying it, I’ve learned to purchase wash and wear shirts that are either wrinkle free or wrinkle resistant.

Looking at the wrinkled shirt, I pouted, “This one needs ironing.”

Quick as a wink, Barbara responded, “Let me put it back in and maybe it’ll come out ironed, next time.”

I hung the shirt temporarily over my bedpost and returned to the laundry room where she was still removing clothes from the dryer.

Tapping her on the shoulder and with only a hint of a grin I stated , “In this house…I’m the one who makes sarcastic remarks!”

“But, I learned it all from you!” she said.

Immediately, I was reminded of the scripture, “Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” Gal. 6:7

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Blinky Milk


Of the words and phrases that have all but disappeared from modern vernacular, “blinky” is surely one of them. My spell checker doesn’t accept blinky as a valid word and my American Heritage Dictionary doesn’t have it, either. Google, the online search engine, isn’t much better but finds a character or two named Blinky and also tells me that fireflies in Jamaica are called blinkies.

But, it hasn’t been that long ago that I heard my mother say, “Ugh, this milk is blinky,” after taste-testing the quality of the favorite beverage of my youth.

Okay, it has been that long ago. Mom’s been dead twenty-years, and it’s been a lot longer than that since I was a youth.

Yesterday, blinky resurfaced. I have tried to identify something I ate Saturday that would have made me sick. For the most part, others ate the same things I ate, except for the milk. Within a half-hour after eating a bowl of frosted flakes and milk (about two hours after dining), while enjoying a cup of coffee, I was no longer well. The indigestion I was experiencing worsened and my chewable Gaviscon tablets didn’t help.

Starting around midnight and lasting until after 2:00 a.m. Sunday morning, I stuck my face in the commode three times, trying to remove the last remaining contents of my stomach. It was not a pretty sight, and it was certainly not a pretty sound. My torso remains sore, even now, from the wretchedness I put it through.

Last night, I thought I’d treat myself to another bowl of frosted flakes and milk. The first spoonful had a flavor similar to that of raisin bran or grape nuts. My first thought was the cereal might have picked up a smell from the pantry, but there were no fruits in the pantry. A second tasting assured me something was wrong and that the sugared cereal might be camouflaging the problem.

Having emptied the milk container into my cereal, I dug the container out of the garbage to check the date. It was good through Monday. I removed the cap and smelled the inside of the container. It was beyond the blinky stage, though it may have been blinky two nights before when I was sick.

Earlier in the week, in an effort to consolidate shopping trips, I had bought a food item at Wal-Mart instead of swinging by the local Piggly Wiggly as I would normally have done. That food item was Great Value 2% Milk. Whenever, I buy 2% milk at the “Pig,” I can count on it being drinkable at least a week beyond the expiration date. Apparently Wal-Mart and the “Pig” use different suppliers.

Needless to say, the bowl of milk and cereal went down the garbage disposal unit. I believe the blinky milk was the source of my trouble, and I’m thankful my taste buds caught the bad milk before I ingested much of it. While I’ve not wanted to eat any more foods like I ate last Saturday, including coffee, I’m slowly working my way back to normalcy.

I don’t blame Wal-Mart for the bad milk, but I doubt I’ll purchase anymore milk at Wal-Mart even if would save me a trip to the grocery store. Anyway, today’s milk shouldn’t go blinky before its expiration date.

Sunday, September 06, 2009

Home Renovation - The Bookcase Project

It seemed like it took the better part of the day to add the crown molding to our bookcases in the master bedroom. But, it probably only took about five hours.

My day began shortly after seven o’clock with me finishing up trimming the tall shrubs around our house. After that, Barbara and I mounded up most of the wood chips from a tree stump in the backyard that we had ground up last week, following getting a couple of trees removed the prior week. Yeah, I was surprised that my wife wanted to work in the yard.

The condition of our garage has been an embarrassment to both of us for too long, so once we were done with the wood chips we started piling boxes of odds and ends into the back of my truck to haul to the dump. Our painter had left the lids on the empty paint cans following our recent room-painting project so they had to be set aside for another day, as the lady at the landfill won’t allow sealed paint cans past the checkpoint. Yeah, I could have hidden them in plastic bags, but I didn’t.

We did stop by the hardware store to buy some wood stain to use on the crown molding that was delivered Friday afternoon to our then messy garage. We couldn’t get an exact match, but found something close enough and then drove on to the landfill to unload half a pickup load of “junk.”

Barbara and I stained the crown molding and the pieces we’d asked the lumber company to cut for use as book-stops. These are wooden slats about forty-eight inches long and 3/4 of an inch wide and perhaps a ¼ inch thick. Once that chore was complete, it was time for lunch.

Dot Bell came over after lunch to show us a new outfit she would be wearing Sunday evening at a reception in her daughter’s home in Germantown, TN. She also wanted to see what we’d done to the house during recent weeks of painting, flooring, carpet replacement, and rearranging. Dot liked what she saw, especially the living room which is now more conducive to sitting and visiting than before.

I had just left the house to go cut Sarah’s yard when Barbara phoned to let me know Keith Thomas was on his way over to miter the crown molding for us. Keith has all the “man toys” to make quick work of mitering, and he used a newly purchased electric brad gun to nail the crown molding in place. He even cut the book-stops to the lengths I needed and ripped off a couple of strips of plywood for me to add as a cover plate on top of the bookcases. He might have been at our house an hour, but I spent the next couple or so hours staining and installing the cover and the book-stops. Without Keith’s help, I would not have finished the bookcases Saturday.

I should mention the bookcases were custom built for our prior house on 8th Street, but we dismantled them and moved them to our present home, before we sold the 8th Street house. The late Oakley Hooker made them for us when we closed-in the carport in the early eighties. In our old house, the bookcases were on either side of the arched entrance inside the new den off the living room.

At our present location we had placed the bookcases in our master bedroom with one on either side of the doorway leading into the master bathroom. When our renovation project began, we had to dismantle the bookcases and cabinets once more. Rayanne suggested they might look good on a different wall as a side-beside unit.

Once the new carpeting was down, we started reassembling the bookcases as Rayanne had suggested. I was concerned that they might not mesh or marry well, but I was able to use my somewhat limited carpentry skills to line up the pieces rather nicely.

I was doing okay until I decided the upper portions need to be screwed together. The well-seasoned wood was giving my somewhat dull drill bit a run for its money. I don’t have a C-clamp anymore, so I was using one hand to pinch the sides together and pushing the drill with all my might using the other hand.

I failed to consider the drill would eventually push through both pieces of wood. A longer drill bit would have probably run my middle finger through and through, but the one I was using only got part of the way through the bone in the middle joint of my middle finger. Boy did that ever hurt!

The longest wood screw in my arsenal wasn’t long enough for the job, so I drilled a larger hole and inserted a bolt with a washer and nut. With everything as snug as possible, we set the bookcase against the wall and secured it. I don’t know who’ll move it next time, but I’m predicting it won’t be me.

Barbara is all smiles with the appearance of our newly ‘crowned’ bookcases, and the books-stops are a nice touch. And, my drilled-into finger is healing nicely. However, there’s a section close to the first joint that doesn’t have any feeling in it. Happily, I made it through the project without serious injury, which is yet another reason for smiles and thankfulness.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Impromptu Fun


The days of childhood, while seeming endless from a child's point of view, simply do not last long enough. Maybe, that's why God gave children so much energy in order for them to race from one activity to another.

My folks were not "into" lawn care, though my mother did like to have a flowering plant or two somewhere around the house. These were usually roses and hydrangeas or the jonquils of spring. But, watering the grass to keep it green was not something we did in our family.

As an adult, I've occasionally watered my lawn, though I've questioned my wisdom for doing so on more than one occasion. Still, there's something inviting about a water sprinkler. For children and the young at heart, a sprinkler in summer is an invitation to impromptu fun.

My present home has a lawn irrigation system that doesn't get a lot of use, but with my front lawn looking parched on the last Saturday of August, I turned on the sprinklers.

My two youngest grandchildren, Merilese and Katherine, came outside about the time I fired up zone 2 of the system and were captivated by the spider-action sprinklers. The gentle rotation of the streams of water proved too much for them and soon they were running with abandon through the spray.

It brought to mind the simpler days of my youth when I enjoyed spraying others and being sprayed by a water hose. However, as tempting as the sprinklers looked, this young at heart "old man" let the notion pass. I like my showers hot and soapy.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Tickled Pink


On January 02, 2007, I underwent a surgical procedure to have my esophagus stretched to relieve problems associated with swallowing food. For at least a decade, possibly two, I had experienced, on an occasional basis, food lodging in my esophagus during mealtime. I was not in danger of choking and was able to dislodge the food by forcing myself to vomit. I considered my situation more a nuisance than a health issue.

At the urging of my cardiologist, I saw another specialist who did the esophageal procedure and also prescribed a medication to prevent acid reflux, which I continue to take on a daily basis.

While I was happy to be able to swallow foods more comfortably than before the procedure, there was an undesirable side effect. I gained nine pounds during the next three months, presumably due to eating more food, a result of being able to swallow more rapidly than before which must have confused my brain into thinking I was less full than I really was.

I wanted to drop the extra pounds but found little willpower to do so until late last year, when I committed to a health coaching program sponsored by my health insurance provider. My goal was to start a walking regime for both cardiovascular and weight control reasons. The additional exercise had just begun to pay off with a pound lost here and there, when I developed a soreness issue with my feet that virtually shut down my walking program.

Disheartened, I decided to try eating less until I could get the foot problem resolved. I rocked along a month or two thinking I had a shoe problem, because the onset of foot pain seemed to be related to the purchase of new shoes. However, I discovered it didn’t matter which pair I wore, of the half-dozen pairs I routinely wear, they all hurt my feet.

Finally, after seeing a doctor a week ago, I learned the problem was not shoes. I had an inflammation called metatarsalgia, which was localized in the balls of my feet. A shot of cortisone in my arm removed the soreness in my feet within a few hours. And, my doctor sent me to the shoe store to buy a pair of New Balance running/ jogging shoes that purportedly will allow me to get back into a walking routine without the pain. While there, Cecil Fauver, owner of Progressive Shoe Store, sold me another pair of casual work shoes, Clarks’ Unstructured, which like the exercise shoes are extremely comfortable. But, then that may still be the effects of the cortisone dosage.

For most of this year, I’ve weighed at work approximately every two weeks. Slowly, the pounds have rolled off, and when I weighed today, I was pleasantly surprised to discover I had lost two pound, bringing my net loss to 9.5 pounds since last November. I’ve certainly not set any records for quick losses, but I’m tickled pink in having achieved my original goal and can’t wait to report the results to my health coach in a few weeks.



Now, that I’ve proved to myself I can intentionally lose weight, I intend to keep doing what I’ve been doing, supplemented with regular walking and hopefully get below 200 by this time next year. Wish me luck!

Monday, August 10, 2009

Uh - Obama's Poker Tell


The following appeared in the Patriot Post dated July 27th. I am sharing it to illustrate how the current administration and the MSM seek to rewrite history by use of filters when quoting President Obama. Mark Alexander tells us what he really said and it's certainly "telling."
=====Patriot Post========

Steve Killian, president of the Cambridge Police Patrol Officers Association called for Obama to "make an apology to all law-enforcement personnel."
Not to be upstaged by the police unions, Obama made an unplanned appearance at a White House conference an hour after the Cambridge conference, to remake his case.
Receiving a reception similar to that George W. Bush received with his surprise appearance to have Thanksgiving dinner with our troops in Baghdad a few years ago, Obama's unannounced appearance at the press conference elated his adoring MSM audience.
Hey, it's a cameo appearance. Sit down, sit down," Obama said, like some Hollywood teen idol. In one of the most contorted makeovers of his asinine remarks to date, Obama feigned "making nice" with Crowley and offered to have him and Gates as guests at the White House "for a beer." I am including a few Obama quotes below (with editorial reply), not only because he has dug himself deeper, but also because his comments were not read from a teleprompter.

Consequently, the incidence of his verbal tic, "uh," occurs at a ratio of 1.2 times for every 10 words. This is significant because for Obama, "uh" constitutes a "poker tell," an unconscious cue that he is attempting to be deceptive.
When studying Obama's unscripted comments, the occurrence of this tell at a ratio of 1/20 indicates his remarks are disingenuous. At 1.2/10, he is lying. (While the White House video mutes his verbal tics and struck all of them from the text of his comments, you can read the full -- and accurate -- text of Obama's comments here.)

"Uh, over the last day and a half, uh, obviously there's been all sorts of controversy around, uh, the incident that happened in Cambridge with, uh, Professor Gates and the police department there. ... Uh, and because, uh, this has been ratcheting up -- uh, and I obviously helped to contribute ratcheting it up -- uh, I want to make clear that in my choice of words, uh, I think I unfortunately, uh, gave an impression, uh, that I was maligning the Cambridge Police Department or Sergeant Crowley specifically -- uh, and I could have calibrated those words differently."

(I am certain that saying they "acted stupidly" constitutes "maligning.")
"Uh, I continue to believe, based on what I have heard, that, uh, there was an overreaction in, uh, pulling Professor Gates, uh, out of his home to the station. Uh, my sense is you've got two good people, uh, in a circumstance, uh, in which, uh, neither of them, uh, were able to resolve the incident in the way that it should have been resolved."
(Ah, they did not act stupidly, they just "overreacted.")

"Uh, the fact that it has garnered so much attention I think is a testimony to the fact that these are issues that are still very sensitive here in America."

(No, Obama's comment garnered so much attention because it was, uh, stupid.)

"Uh, what I'd like to do then I [sic] make sure that everybody ... uh, not extrapolate too much from the facts -- uh, but as I said at the press conference, uh, be mindful of the fact that because of our history, because of the difficulties of the past, uh, you know, African Americans are sensitive to these issues. And, uh ... interactions between police officers and, uh, the African American community can sometimes be fraught with misunderstanding."

(What is clear, however, is that Leftist socialized programs ostensibly designed to give blacks a chance to attain the American dream, have spawned a subculture of nightmares, and there is no misunderstanding about the resulting disparity in criminal activity by race, or the burden that places on society, including police officers of all racial backgrounds, who have to deal with that burden.)

"Uh, my hope is, is that as a consequence of this event, uh, this ends up being what's called a 'teachable moment,' where all of us, uh, instead of pumping up the volume spend a little more time listening to each other, uh ... instead of flinging accusations, uh, we can, uh, all be a little more reflective in terms of what we can do, uh, to contribute to, uh, more unity."

(The most teachable moment in this event was when Obama didn't have the facts. As previously suggested, Obama should learn to say, "no comment." The only folks flinging accusations were Gates, Obama, Patrick and Simmons.)

"Uh, but, uh, I just wanted to emphasize that, uh, one, one last point I guess I would make. ... Uh, the fact that this has become such a big issue I think is indicative of the fact that, uh, uh, race is still a troubling aspect of our society. Uh, whether I were black or white, uh, I think that, uh, me commenting on this, uh, and hopefully contributing to constructive -- uh, as opposed to negative -- uh, understandings about the issue, uh, is part of my portfolio."

(Actually, it became a big issue because Obama made a brainless accusation, and for sure, digging himself into a deeper hole is definitely part of his portfolio.)

"So, uh, at the end of the conversation there was a discussion about -- uh, uh, uh, my conversation with Sergeant Crowley, there was discussion about, uh, he and I, uh, and, uh, Professor Gates having a beer here in the White House. Uh, we don't know if that's scheduled yet -- uh, -- but, uh, uh, but we may put that together."