Category Archives: Columnists

A Sportsman’s World, by Leon Archer

By Leon Archer

I couldn’t help myself; after writing last week about my memories of the deer camp itself, I had to follow up with the other things that flooded into my mind.

While the physical deer camp itself was a part of the lure for me and my friends to hunt in Deposit, N.Y., one has to remember the overarching purpose was to hunt deer.

We were young and inexperienced and we expected we would see a deer behind every tree and come home with a big buck at the end of our stay.

It seldom worked out that way even though we hunted long and hard from morning until the last light of day. We spent a lot of time walking and not much time sitting.

It’s hard for a boy of 16 or 17 to sit for very long hoping for a deer to walk by; our system just isn’t wired that way. Fifteen to 20 minutes always seemed to be sufficient to convince us we were sitting in the wrong place, and a better hunting spot was probably one more hill or valley away.

I spent a lot of time looking for that perfect location.

We actually got a little better with time. We learned to efficiently drive a section of woods with watchers placed in logical spots for deer to use when fleeing the drivers.

The amazing thing is that sometimes we got it right. Dale got a spike horn buck one morning on his watch, and Rex got a nice 8-point one afternoon. He always had the patience to sit for hours at a time, and if you were driving towards his stand, you could be confident that he would be there when you arrived.

The first year I hunted at the camp, I blew a chance at a 4-point one afternoon when I was still hunting by myself.

I had just reached the top of one of the Catskill foothills, and looking at a steep angle into the ravine below I saw this magnificent deer, and he had no idea I was there. I was hunting with a 35 Remington lever action. I was sure that deer was dead meat.

I drew the bead into the rear crotch sight and placed it on his shoulder. I expected that when I pulled the trigger, he would drop like a rock.

The woods reverberated with the blast, but the deer still stood unharmed. I racked another shell into the chamber and aimed even more carefully if that was possible.

When I fired the second shot, the deer began looking around, no doubt wondering where those shots were coming from, but he was none the worse for my efforts.

As a relatively new hunter, I figured the deer was too far away and that I should raise my sights. My next shot was aimed about two inches above his shoulder, the next about 6 inches and the fifth and final shot was launched with my aiming point about a foot above his body.

He finally realized that he might possibly be in danger and trotted out of sight. I couldn’t believe what had just transpired. I reloaded my rifle, and walked down to where the deer had been standing in hopes of finding blood, but it was in vain. I had missed five shots at a standing target.

Later that evening as I recounted my tail of woe back at the camp, three things happened.

First, Rex took out his knife and cut off the bottom of my shirt tail and nailed the piece on the wall. Next he asked me what I had the rifle sighted in at. I told him a hundred yards. Third, he asked me where I had held on the deer. I described my efforts in detail and as I did, a smile grew on his face.

Rex explained what I had done wrong. Basically it was this; when one shoots uphill or downhill over a fair distance he needs to hold low. Shooting more closely to parallel with the pull of gravity has a much different effect on the flight of a bullet than when shooting perpendicular to the pull.

In recognition of gravity, a rifle is sighted in so the barrel is actually pointed at a spot above where the sight is pointed. The bullet ends up dropping over the distance of its travel in order to arrive at the aiming point of the sights.

I guess I had a blank look on my face when he was talking, because he finally tore up a paper bag and drew an illustration to show what he meant. It took a little while for that to sink in, but learning it has helped me put venison in the freezer a number of times over the years.

I didn’t get a deer that year, but I could hardly wait for the next season to roll around and give me another chance. I knew the deer camp would be waiting.

Bodley Bulletins, by Julia Ludington

I hope that everyone had a fun long weekend.

Much is going on at G. Ray Bodley before we head off on our Thanksgiving break.

Today a representative from the College at Saint Rose will be in the guidance office at 10 a.m. and tomorrow a representative from the Crouse College of Nursing will be visiting at 10:15 a.m.

Keep checking in with the guidance office to see if any colleges you are applying to or are interested in are coming to the high school.

Unfortunately, the varsity girls’ volleyball team’s season came to an end last Tuesday with a tough loss to Oswego. The girls had an awesome season, however, and we are very proud of them.

The concerts last week were a success. The audience was serenaded with a plethora of different pieces from the Jazz Band, Wind Ensemble, and Symphonic Orchestra.

The songs included themes centered on the music of Lady Gaga, Beethoven and Tchaikovsky from the orchestra and Batman, Les Miserables and Sesame Street by the band.

Talented guitar, bass, and drum players joined in on the fun and made for an exciting event.

Musicians who are interested in trying out for All-County should see their music teacher for the audition music. Many music teachers give extra credit for trying out, so it may be something you want to look into. Plus, it’s a ton of fun.

Students from the Wind Ensemble, Symphonic Orchestra and Chorus are also getting ready for the upcoming Area All-State concert.

The students will travel to Clinton in Oneida County Nov. 22 and will rehearse with other students selected from the area.

They will then stay the night and get up to practice again, and then finally will play their concert Saturday, Nov. 23. It’s a lot of work, as the students selected will have never played the music together until the day before the actual concert.

Don’t forget to get in the holiday spirit and donate to the Youth Advisory Council to support its orphanage and school in Colombia.

Boxes are distributed throughout the school in which to place your donations. Girls’ summer clothes, toiletries and small candies are all acceptable items.

A Sportsman’s World, by Leon Archer

Deer Camp Memories

 

When I was a kid, I was a Boy Scout, and I had many adventures as a result of my association with that wonderful organization. We had a great scout master, Lyle Rexford Huyck, but we all called him Rex. He had been a drill instructor in the navy and he transferred a lot of his knowledge and abilities into his role as our leader. He was a no nonsense sort of guy when it came to scouting, but he tempered that with a good sense of humor. Thanks to him, I could hardly wait for the meeting to roll around each week to see what we were going to be doing.

When I turned 14, I became an Explorer Scout, and scouting got kicked up a notch. We went on a number of trips, and we attended jamborees. We went to the east coast several times. We went to Boston and did a tour of the historical sites there including touring the USS Constitution. We took a side trip to Lexington and Concord. But the thing I liked best each year that we went to the coast was we would go out on a party boat to do some deep sea fishing. We caught a heap of fish that none of us had ever caught before. It was fantastic.

In addition, most of us Explorers took our hunter safety training together and got our junior licenses. Often several of us would get together with an adult to go hunting. It all seemed to be a natural outgrowth of our scouting experience. Many times some of us would hunt with Rex and his son, Dale, who was also an Explorer, but hunting opportunities abounded in those days, and there was always an adult that was willing to get us out. Once we turned 16, we often hunted together in groups of two up to as many as six at a time.

Thanks to Rex and Dale, I had the chance to hunt deer out of an honest to God deer hunting camp located on a farm near Deposit, New York. Rex’s in-laws owned the farm, and there was a small cabin that had been built near the woods in the back lot. For three years, Rex and several of the Explorers transformed the cabin into a deer camp. I was 16 the first year I hunted there, and it was where I shot my first deer. In my mind, I can see that deer as clearly today as I did the morning I shot it, but what I remember most is the camp.

The cabin was small, roughly 16 feet by 20 feet, and there was nothing fancy about it, no insulation, no running water, and no electricity. It had a metal covered roof that kept out the rain, and the sides, though uninsulated and unpainted, were sealed well enough that the wind never found its way in. There were three small windows, and there was an even smaller window in the door. It was possible to look in every direction for any deer that might come wandering by while we were enjoying the relative comfort of the inside of the cabin.

There were six bunk beds along two walls. I always seemed to end up with an upper bunk, but I didn’t mind. There was a wooden table and four wooden chairs; if we had a full complement of six in camp, there were a couple of folding chairs under one of the bunks.

We had an old kitchen wood stove that we cooked on and it doubled as our source of heat when the weather was cold. It was often also the reason for sweaty bodies when the weather was warm. The stove was part of the reason for the cabin being a hunting camp, not just some quaint little getaway in the woods. It was the odors that tagged the camp for what it was and they remain indelibly etched in my memory.

Here’s what I remember. Once the deer camp was up and running, the first thing that hit you as you came through the door was the overarching smell of wood smoke (when you came home from deer camp you usually smelled for all the world like a ham). It didn’t matter what time of day or night it was, there would also be the lingering smell of bacon that had been cooked each morning before the eggs were slipped into the hot fat. Coffee that had been boiled on the stove added to the aromatic patina of the camp. Those were the good things.

As the days went by, sweaty long underwear, which doubled as pajamas and was seldom changed, began to radiate cosmic rays as well as a strangely sweetish addition to the atmosphere of the camp. Boots drying behind the stove and wet socks draped over the end of bunks in hopes they would dry before time to go hunting in the morning each did their part in creating an odor that is hard to forget.

Once those things were flavoring the air the hunters were breathing, a few other items could be added. Most years someone would bring a brick of limburger cheese, which if eaten up quickly only added a momentary spike in the toxicity of the camp vapors, but the wrapper with the scrapings from the rind often ended up in the paper trash bag in the corner, and for days hunters would comment how the smell of that cheese had lingered on. If a deer was shot early in the season, liver and onions frying in a cast iron pan on the stove would add another layer.

The variety, quality, and volume of the food and drink being consumed often led to intestinal problems which were often relieved in the evening, producing gasps, groans, shouts and inane chuckling as one more gaseous substance was added to the already burdened air. Fortunately this addition quickly dissipated, unfortunately it could be pretty much counted on to be reintroduced each ensuing evening. You have to remember, we were just boys.

By the end of just the first week, a deer camp would have usually taken on enough olfactory markers that any deer hunter with deer camp experience could identify it blindfolded just standing outside the door. I will say, leaving camp for my stand in the morning, I hardly noticed any odor in the building, but upon returning later in the day after hunting in the fresh air, I became acutely aware of what would eventually find a forever place in my memory. I wouldn’t want you to think that was the only thing that impressed me; I have other memories of deer camp as well, but I will come back for them another day.

 

Poetry Corner, by Jim Farfaglia

We Move On      By Jim Farfaglia

 

Luckily, I caught a glimpse

as the four or five of you

traveled my yard’s wooded edges,

playing follow the leader;

one foot—scratching, scratching—

after the other,

thin necks probing the unknown,

beaks pecking out an uncharted path.

For a moment, I admired your bellies,

so full from a bountiful season,

and your feathers with mysterious markings.

But, true to your nature, you did not stay:

Called to where life leads,

you took your mystery with you,

leaving behind a lesson about searching,

about moving on.

View from the Assembly, by Will Barclay

Veterans’ Day is a time we honor our veterans and thank them for their service.

We pause to reflect on their lives and appreciate how their sacrifices keep us safe and protect our country and our freedoms. I’ve always believed that New York state should do more for our veterans. We can’t rely solely on the federal government’s benefit structure to honor our state veterans’ service.

This year, the state Legislature enacted a number of bills. Many seek to provide better access to services, education and jobs. I wanted to highlight a few that recently became effective or were signed into law that I supported in the Assembly.

 Hire a Vet Tax Credit

This year’s budget created a tax credit for employers who hire veterans. Beginning in 2015, those who hire a veteran who has been discharged on or after Sept. 11, 2001 will receive a tax credit equal to 10 percent of each veteran’s salary or $5,000, whichever is less. The credit increases to 15 percent for the employer if the veteran is disabled.

A Veteran’s Employment Portal was added last year. This offers a one-stop career priority service to veterans and their eligible spouses, which can be accessed at http://www.veterans.ny.gov/.

 Driver ID Mark

The Department of Motor Vehicles now provides a special mark on a driver’s license or non-driver identification card indicating that the holder is a veteran of the U.S. armed forces, as long as veterans provide proof, such as Form DD-214. This law came about because it is sometimes difficult for veterans to carry original paperwork to obtain health services, or discounts that businesses offer to veterans, for example.

With this mark, if the veteran has their license, they can easily receive a discount at a restaurant or through a service provider.  I was pleased to support this during our last session. It passed unanimously in the Assembly and I’m glad it went into effect last month.

 Mental Health Portal

Earlier this year, the state Legislature passed a bill requiring the state Division of Veterans’ Affairs to provide better access to services concerning suicide prevention, peer outreach, and other support services.

This bill was signed into law in June and created portals along every page within the state Veteran’s Affairs website.

This builds on last year’s legislation which created an “interagency plan” to address the needs of returning veterans. I was pleased to support both in the Assembly.

On every Division of Veteran’s Affairs webpage, there is a crisis hotline number to call. I recognize that this is a small step in helping veterans, but having the ability to find help at someone’s hour of need can save lives and pain for families.

Combat-related mental illness has been and still is a critical issue for American war veterans. According to the Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America, at least one in three Iraq veterans and one in nine Afghanistan veterans will face mental health issues like depression, anxiety or post-traumatic stress disorder. Multiple tours have increased the stress of combat. Having quick access at a critical time can help save a life.

 Veterans Speakers in Classrooms

This year the Legislature passed a bill (A1601-A) that would coordinate efforts to get veterans into classrooms to talk about their military experiences.

The Division of Veterans’ Affairs has been directed to distribute information to school districts listing available speakers willing to discuss their experiences. This is designed to teach school-aged children about what military life is like and to bring a living history to the classrooms.

Many schools already invite veterans in for education, but this would formalize such a program and enable schools to, hopefully, have access to more veterans willing to speak to classes. This was signed by the governor in July.

More information on any of these services can be found at the New York State Division of Veterans’ Affairs at http://www.veterans.ny.gov/

While legislative changes and state programs can assist veterans, so can individuals by showing appreciation. Veterans deserve our respect and admiration for all they have done.

Whether it’s just saying “thank you” to one that you know or meet, or joining a more organized effort, all helps the sacrifices seem more worthwhile.

Locally, a group called Thank a Service Member was created to do just that. Since its inception in 2006, it has held a number of locally based events and has grown to a national organization. To learn more, visit http://www.thankaservicemember.org/.

If you have any questions or comments on this or any other state issue, or if you would like to be added to my mailing list or receive my newsletter, contact my office by mail at 200 N. Second St., Fulton, New York 13069, by e-mail at barclaw@assembly.state.ny.us or by calling 598-5185.  You can also friend me, Assemblyman Barclay, on Facebook.

State Senate Report, by state Sen. Patty Ritchie

From friends and family to good food and gifts, for many people, the holidays are the happiest time of the year.  However, for our brave troops serving overseas, they can be the loneliest.

In an effort to send a “touch of home” to our troops, I’m once again calling on Central and Northern New Yorkers to participate in my “Holiday Mail for Heroes” program.

The program — sponsored by the American Red Cross — aims to collect donated Christmas cards to be sent to U.S. soldiers serving overseas.

This year, for the second year in a row, I’m partnering with Ogdensburg native and radio personality Melody Burns to collect holiday greetings. Last year, thanks to many of you, we were able to collect 2,200 cards to distribute to service members at military installations, veterans hospitals and other locations.

To help send holiday greetings to our troops:

** Do not include envelopes;

** Do not include personal letters, photos or inserts of any kind;

** Use generic salutations such as “Dear Service Member,” as cards addressed to specific individuals cannot be delivered through the program;

** Avoid cards with glitter or using loose glitter in cards as it can aggravate health issues of ill or injured warriors;

After being signed, cards can be mailed to or dropped off at the following locations:

Office of Senator Patty Ritchie

330 Ford St.

Ogdensburg, NY 13669

Office of Senator Patty Ritchie

317 Washington St.

Watertown, NY 13601

Office of Senator Patty Ritchie

46 East Bridge St.

Oswego, NY 13126

The deadline to contribute cards is Nov. 15.

It’s important to recognize and pay tribute to our troops year round, but, it’s especially important during the holidays. I encourage you to join me in sending warm wishes this season through my “Holiday Mail for Heroes” program to the troops who have sacrificed so much for our freedom.

A Sportsman’s World, by Leon Archer

When I was a kid, I was a Boy Scout, and I had many adventures as a result of my association with that wonderful organization.

We had a great scout master, Lyle Rexford Huyck, but we all called him Rex. He had been a drill instructor in the Navy and he transferred a lot of his knowledge and abilities into his role as our leader.

He was a no-nonsense sort of guy when it came to scouting, but he tempered that with a good sense of humor. Thanks to him, I could hardly wait for the meeting to roll around each week to see what we were going to be doing.

When I turned 14, I became an Explorer Scout, and scouting got kicked up a notch. We went on a number of trips, and we attended jamborees. We went to the east coast several times. We went to Boston and did a tour of the historical sites there including touring the USS Constitution. We took a side trip to Lexington and Concord.

But the thing I liked best each year when we went to the coast was we would go out on a party boat to do some deep sea fishing. We caught a heap of fish that none of us had ever caught before. It was fantastic.

In addition, most of us Explorers took our hunter safety training together and got our junior licenses. Often several of us would get together with an adult to go hunting.

It all seemed to be a natural outgrowth of our scouting experience. Many times some of us would hunt with Rex and his son, Dale, who was also an Explorer, but hunting opportunities abounded in those days, and there was always an adult that was willing to get us out.

Once we turned 16, we often hunted together in groups of two up to as many as six at a time.

Thanks to Rex and Dale, I had the chance to hunt deer out of an honest-to-God deer hunting camp located on a farm near Deposit, in Delaware County.  Rex’s in-laws owned the farm, and there was a small cabin that had been built near the woods in the back lot. For three years, Rex and several of the Explorers transformed the cabin into a deer camp.

I was 16 the first year I hunted there, and it was where I shot my first deer. In my mind, I can see that deer as clearly today as I did the morning I shot it, but what I remember most is the camp.

The cabin was small, roughly 16 feet by 20 feet, and there was nothing fancy about it —  no insulation, no running water and no electricity. It had a metal covered roof that kept out the rain, and the sides, though uninsulated and unpainted, were sealed well enough that the wind never found its way in.

There were three small windows, and there was an even smaller window in the door. It was possible to look in every direction for any deer that might come wandering by while we were enjoying the relative comfort of the inside of the cabin.

There were six bunk beds along two walls. I always seemed to end up with an upper bunk, but I didn’t mind. There was a wooden table and four wooden chairs; if we had a full complement of six in camp, there were a couple of folding chairs under one of the bunks.

We had an old kitchen wood stove that we cooked on and it doubled as our source of heat when the weather was cold. It was often also the reason for sweaty bodies when the weather was warm. The stove was part of the reason for the cabin being a hunting camp, not just some quaint little getaway in the woods. It was the odors that tagged the camp for what it was and they remain indelibly etched in my memory.

Here’s what I remember.

Once the deer camp was up and running, the first thing that hit you as you came through the door was the overarching smell of wood smoke (when you came home from deer camp you usually smelled for all the world like a ham).

It didn’t matter what time of day or night it was, there would also be the lingering smell of bacon that had been cooked each morning before the eggs were slipped into the hot fat. Coffee that had been boiled on the stove added to the aromatic patina of the camp. Those were the good things.

As the days went by, sweaty long underwear, which doubled as pajamas and was seldom changed, began to radiate cosmic rays as well as a strangely sweetish addition to the atmosphere of the camp.

Boots drying behind the stove and wet socks draped over the end of bunks in hopes they would dry before time to go hunting in the morning each did their part in creating an odor that is hard to forget.

Once those things were flavoring the air the hunters were breathing, a few other items could be added.

Most years someone would bring a brick of limburger cheese, which if eaten up quickly only added a momentary spike in the toxicity of the camp vapors, but the wrapper with the scrapings from the rind often ended up in the paper trash bag in the corner, and for days hunters would comment how the smell of that cheese had lingered on.

If a deer was shot early in the season, liver and onions frying in a cast iron pan on the stove would add another layer.

The variety, quality and volume of the food and drink being consumed often led to intestinal problems, which were often relieved in the evening, producing gasps, groans, shouts and inane chuckling as one more gaseous substance was added to the already burdened air.

Fortunately this addition quickly dissipated, unfortunately it could be pretty much counted on to be reintroduced each ensuing evening. You have to remember, we were just boys.

By the end of just the first week, a deer camp would have usually taken on enough olfactory markers that any deer hunter with deer camp experience could identify them blindfolded just standing outside the door.

I will say, leaving camp for my stand in the morning, I hardly noticed any odor in the building, but upon returning later in the day after hunting in the fresh air, I became acutely aware of what would  eventually find a forever place in my memory.

I wouldn’t want you to think that was the only thing that impressed me; I have other memories of deer camp as well, but I will come back for them another day.

Hodgepodge, by Roy Hodge

My friend and colleague in the newspaper business, Dick Forbes, called with some distressing news on Sunday.

Vince Caravan, another Fulton newspaperman, who Dick and I had both had an extended connection with, had died.

Although competitors for many years, Vince and I were also longtime friends. I first met Vince when the two of us were “roaming the sidelines” at Fulton High School football games in the early ‘60s.

For many years it was a Monday afternoon ritual for the two of us, along with Carl Johnson of the Oswego Palladium-Times, to meet regularly with Fulton High School Coach Don Distin at Myers’ Restaurant over on West Broadway to get the scoop on local high school sports. Vince and I walked those above-mentioned sidelines together while writing our stories at many football games.

Through the years, although we were the editors of our newspapers, Vince and I met up with each other, often several times a week, with notebooks and cameras in tow to cover whatever was going to make the news in Fulton.

The following is from an article that I wrote in The Fulton Patriot in 2010 when Vince retired:

“Vince and I worked for competing newspapers for many years. We saw each other frequently and developed a friendship.  We were both members of the Oswego County Press Club and Rotary Club.

“Vince has always been one of the most likeable and best known residents of Fulton. It seems that everyone knows Vince. I guess that the existence of one-for-every-day Vince Caravan Lunch Bunches attests to that.

“Vince and I have written about the same people and places for many years.  Since 1991, when The Fulton Patriot merged with The Valley News to become Fulton Newspapers, we worked in the same building and have seen each other just about every day.”

I belonged to one of those “Lunch Bunch” groups before I retired, and there was never any doubt that we all showed up because of Vince.

Vince and I had both completed more than 50 years of service to our newspapers. He became the managing editor of The Valley News in 1959 and its owner in 1972.

Vince was civic-minded, having served as chairman of the board of the Greater Fulton Chamber of Commerce as well as a member of the Fulton Board of Education. He was a member of the American Legion and the Fulton VFW.

Vince enjoyed telling his readers about the accomplishments of others, but he didn’t spend a lot of time talking or writing about himself. I didn’t know until I read it in his obituary that he was the recipient of the Bronze Star and Purple Heart for wounds received in Italy during World War II.

Vince Caravan will be sorely missed by his community.

Numbering with the Romans

I don’t remember why, but one day last week I was back in elementary school struggling with Roman numerals.  After a little mind prodding I have remembered a couple of things.

I can count to 10 – I-II-III-IIII or IV – V-VI-VII-VIII-IX-X.  Showing off a little more, I will tell you that L is 50, C is 100, D is 500 and M is 1,000.

And furthermore, this year is MMXIII.  I was born in MCMXXXVIII.  So I am LXXV.

“Who needs to know about Roman numerals,” you ask.  Well, Roman numerals are used by sporting events like the Olympic Games and the Super Bowl.

Roman numerals are also used for Queens, Kings and Popes. They are sometimes used for years. For instance, as I said a couple of paragraphs ago, 2013 is MMXIII. And, Roman numerals are usually used to denote the numbers of our World Wars.

Roman numerals are often seen at the end of the names of people who have the same first, middle and last names as their paternal grandfathers.

You also see Roman numerals on clocks.

So, what is 5:45 in Roman numerals?  I’m not sure that I have ever figured that one out. Well, maybe I have. If your clock has Roman numerals, when the small hand is past V and almost to VI and the long hand is over IX, it is 5:45 (V:XLV). I think.

Why, on many clocks, is IIII used instead of IV?  There are several explanations offered. IIII may be used because that was the tradition established by the earliest surviving clocks.

Perhaps IV was avoided because IV represented the Roman god Jupiter, whose Latin name begins with IV. Louis XIV, king of France, who preferred IIII over IV, ordered his clock makers to produce clocks with IIII and not IV, and it has remained that way.

Okay, enough of the XX-ing, CC-ing and MM-ing. It is XII noon, I have been sitting at this typewriter for almost III hours and I am getting hungry.

Words of wisdom, Peanuts style

Sometimes I lie awake at night and ask, “Where have I gone wrong?”  Then a voice says to me, “This is going to take more than one night.”  — Charlie Brown

All you need is love, but a little chocolate now and then doesn’t hurt.   — Lucy Van Pelt

Yesterday I was a dog, today I am a dog, tomorrow I will be a dog.  Sigh!  There’s so little hope for advancement.   — Snoopy

Big sisters are the crabgrass in the lawn of life.”   —  Linus Van Pelt

I think I’ve discovered the secret of life – you just hang around until you get used to it.    – Sally Brown

Sometimes I lie awake at night and ask, “Why me?” Then a voice answers, “Nothing personal, your name just happened to come up.” — Charlie Brown

Dear IRS, please remove me from your mailing list.  — Snoopy

(I don’t have anything clever or cute to say.   — Roy)

Have a good week.

                                           . . . Roy Hodge