Post HNT Pictures

Yesterday you all said such nice things about my HNT pictures, we were even called handsome, how could I possibly turn down Snavylyn's request to post a picture of me in a tux.

Modesty be damned! Here are a few from the last time I wore a tux, my wedding day to the lovely Barbara A. Vitale on July 29, 1972.

Mr. & Mrs. BTExpress

The Happy Couple and My Father and Step Mother

The Father and His Two Sons
I put this in so you could see how much I look like my brother. I have actually been mistaken for him.

Like Father Like Son HNT

MOTHER OF GOD! I HAVE BECOME MY FATHER!

Yesterday I posted a story about my father being Sanda Claus and SGM made a comment that it was too bad I didn'’t have a picture of him dressed as Santa. This sent me on a search for a picture of my father and I found this one him at our wedding.

These is a picture of my father at 51 and me at 50. When I looked at his picture next to mine, I was amazed at how much we looked a like. The most striking thing to me was that our right eye is slightly more closed than our left eye.

I really have become my father, which make me about the happiest person on earth tonight, because he was the BEST!

Happy Half-Nekkid Thursday Stoney!!!!!

Yes, There Really is a Santa Claus

Last year about this time, I saw a post on the political forum I help moderate, from a woman that calls herself Superchick. Superchick was all down about something and was considering telling her little girl that there was no Santa Claus. I saw her comment and wanted so much for her not to spoil it for her daughter so I wrote her this.


Superchick – “I am actually thinking about telling my daughter there is no such thing as Santa.”


BTExpress - Please don't tell your daughter that you believe there is no Santa. Let me tell you a story.

I stopped believing in Santa on Christmas Eve when I was 9 years. My big brother used to tease me non-stop pretty much my entire life. He would stand up for me when bigger kids picked on me, so I knew he loved me, but he just kept at me all the time. The years I turned nine, Rod kept telling me how Santa Claus didn’t exist and that our mom and dad were really the ones that gave us presents. He kept it up but I wouldn’t believe him.

Sometime during the night on Christmas Eve, my brother woke me up and cracked open the door of our bedroom to show me my parents carrying the Christmas presents in from outside. I was devastated and ran back to bed and cried and cried. He just laughed. That was about the saddest moment of my life up to that point. My mother and father heard the noise and came into our room to find out what was wrong. I told them what had happened and what I saw. My mom told me that they were just helping Santa carrying the presents, but I didn't believe her and just cried. They did their best to calm me down but finally decided to let us open our presents and see if that would do it. They woke up my little sister too, but before they did, my father threatened my big brother with the death if he even hinted to my little sister at what happened. She was five at the time.

I don't really remember much else about that Christmas or what I got that year, I just remember the feeling when I found out there was no Santa. I’ve pretty much forgotten that story until I read your post just now. BTW, that was the beginning of us opening our gifts on Christmas Eve every year after that

Then when I was about 15 or 16, my belief in the jolly old man came back once again. It was sometime during early December when I first saw my father come down from upstairs dressed up in a Santa Claus costume. I thought he looked kind of silly, as most know-it-all 16-year-olds do and laughed a little at the way he looked in that silly costume. But he really did look just like I would have pictured Santa Claus to look. He had white hair and was about the same size as Santa too.

My stepmother told me that a few years earlier, my father started going around to the neighbor’s houses ringing some sleigh bells they had and yelling “Ho, Ho, Ho!” The little kids, and there were a lot of them in the neighborhood, actually thought they heard Santa. He got such a kick out of doing it, that one year he bought a cheap costume and would go around visiting the kids and handing out candy canes. Then that grew into visiting a lot of other places each year so bought the most realistic Santa costume he could afford and even grew a beard for the season. Since he had white hair, it looked great.

That first night I saw him, he was on his way to the nursing home my stepmother worked at to visit people that lived there. My stepmother said it cheered everyone up so much. He would walk from room to room ringing these sleigh bells so they knew he was coming. They always got so excited, just like little kids my stepmother said. Some days he would take off from work (without pay no less) and play Santa at a couple of neighborhood elementary schools and go around to the classes handing out candy canes.

But his biggest thrill was always the nights he visited the children. One night my stepmother and “Santa” go out to visit the kids of their friends. They pull up a couple of doors down from this house and Santa gets out, my stepmom stays in the car. He walks up to the house, rings the sleigh bells and yells out his best “Ho, ho, ho”. The people come to the door and let him in. He stayed for a little while and gets back in the car. My stepmother asks him if he knew those people? Why he asked? She tells him because he went to the wrong house; their friends lived a little farther down the block? He cracks up and tells her he thought something was strange because he didn’t recognize anyone, but said everyone was so happy to see him so he stayed. He told her the kids were thrilled and screamed with excitement when he came in and the adults in the house even got excited, so he did his usual thing. They both laughed as they drove away thinking how strange it must have seemed to have Santa show up at their door. I’ll bet you’ll never convince those folks in that house there is no Santa.

Every year my father would go into his bedroom and next thing you know, out came Santa Claus. Santa would make the rounds to the usual places and each year there would be new kids to see. Every night during the Christmas season after Santa finish his rounds, he’d come back to our house and go into my parent’s bedroom. Then a few minutes later, my father would come out. This went on every year, even after he moved to Florida.

So Superchick, please don’t tell your daughter there is no Santa, because there really is a Santa. He lived in the heart of my father during those years and in the hearts of so many more. The generosity and kindness we feel during the holiday season represent him. Just like it says in the old editorial by Francis P. Church…

“Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.”

Merry Christmas

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM! Chapter Seven

Chapter 7: We're Moved to FSB Stuart

After about a week or so at FSB Pershing, our company was reassigned to FSB Stuart to guard the bridge over a small river on Highway 1, one of the main highways in that area. FSB Stuart was just outside of the village of Trang Bang about 9 miles from Cu Chi.

STUART, FSB (or) FSB Stuart III [Hieu Thien map] - XT 499197
Stuart III: The fire support base at the Highway 1 bridge near Trang Bang. Stuart III is the FSB most commonly refered to as "Stuart." Also misspelled "FSB Stewart." 2/12th base late 1968 to early 1970.
TRANG BANG - vic XT4919
Trang Bang – pronounced just as it's spelled – was a market center for the surrounding coutryside. The 2/12th area of operations from late 1968 to February 1970.

No chopper ride this time, we had to hike about six miles to FSB Stuart. It was a particularly hot and humid day and some where along the way I passed out from heat exhaustion. I couldn’t be revived so they called in a medivac chopper to take me to the 12th Evacuation Hospital at Cu Chi to recover.

Being Carried on a Stretcher into the Hospital

I spent the night in the hospital receiving fluids by IV and the next morning was discharged from the hospital and sent over to HQ so I could get back to my unit. They put me on a supply truck with a couple of other guys and supplies for my unit. We were told that we were to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. The ride was uneventful but somewhat scary for me as I’d only been in country for about two weeks at this point and had never done anything like this before.

Riding in the Back of the Truck Looked Pretty Much Like This

When I got to FSB Stuart, I went over to the command bunker and reported in and then was sent over to the bunkers where my platoon was assigned. Here are a few shots of Stuart.

Fire Support Base Stuart Aerial View

Bridge Bunker Looking from the FSB Side of the Road

When the squad that normally manned this bunker went out on patrol during the day, this was the place everyone wanted to be assigned. They had this place fixed up with all kinds of great stuff.

This is a View of FSB Stuart Looking From The Other Side of the Bridge. The Bridge Bunker is on the Left

8 Inch Howitzers Artillery on Tank Like Tracks

Look at the soldier standing next to the gun. Now you can get an idea of actually how big these monsters are. There were two of these big guns in the center of the FSB and when they were fired, the noise was earth shaking, literally. So before they fired them, they called out a warning.

I left the command bunker, found my squad and caught some harmless kidding about not being able to make the hike, but that was to be expected. I ask them where I slept. They laughed and point over to what looks like a long rounded pile of sandbags. It was about four feet high, four feet wide and about eight feet long. There was a little opening at one end to crawl in to. I walk over, get down on my knees and look inside. It was great, well great compared to a bunker. There were some pieces of wood laid down for a floor, a stretcher to sleep on and a box for a small table at the head end. This was a lot better than sleeping on a mat on the floor of the bunker. I crawled back out and thanked them for the accommodations. It was so funny to see their faces when they all took a look inside. It seems that none of them actually looked inside and just assumed it was a shitty place to sleep. I had offers to pay me to switch but didn’t accept the offers.

The FSB was laid out in a large circle surrounded by bunkers, razor wire and mines. In the center were the command bunker, the mess tent, a latrine, showers and those 12-inch guns. During the day, there were also a few a few tanks. They stayed out in the surrounding rice paddies at night around the bridge to help guard it, but during the day they came inside the FSB for supplies, showers, meals etc.

Rush Hour Traffic on Highway 1

The road you see in the pictures was Highway 1. This view is very close to the exact view I had from my bunker. Highway 1 was the main road into Trang Bang and was loaded with traffic back and forth on the highway all day. There were always people trying to sell us things along the side of the road out in front of the FSB. You could buy pretty much whatever “luxuries” you needed that weren’t supplied to you. Liquor, marijuana filled cigarettes at $20 a carton (you supply the carton of regular cigarettes and they fill them with pot), pot at 50 cents an ounce, radios, ice and you could even get laid if you wanted. That would cost you 50 cents. The hooker would toss a mat down in the weeds. I never bought the services of a hooker, but I did buy a radio for $20. I still have the radio in the basement, but haven’t tried it for years so I don’t even know if it still works.

FSB Stuart was where I was assigned the rest of my time in Vietnam, which would only be about two more weeks at this point.

THE NURSING HOME POLICE

Here's a joke I got in an email from my stepmother.

Ethel was a bit of a demon in her wheelchair and loved to charge around the nursing home, taking corners on one wheel, and getting up to maximum speed on the long corridors. Because the poor woman was one sandwich short of a picnic, the other residents tolerated her, and some of the males actually joined in.

One day, Ethel was speeding up one corridor when a door opened and Kooky Clarence stepped out with his arm outstretched. STOP!" he shouted in a firm voice. "Have you got a license for that thing?" Ethel fished around in her handbag and pulled out a Kit Kat wrapper, and held it up to him. "OK" he said, and away Ethel sped down the hall.

As she took the corner near the TV lounge on one wheel, Weird Harold popped out in front of her and shouted, "STOP! Have you got proof of insurance?" Ethel dug into her handbag, pulled out a drink coaster, and held it up to him. Harold nodded, and said, "Carry on, ma'am."

As Ethel neared the final corridor before the front door, Crazy Craig stepped out in front of her, stark naked, with a very sizable erection. "Oh, good grief," cried Ethel, "...not the Breathalyzer again!"

BTExpress’s Award Winning, World Famous Tomato Sauce

Can you believe it? Not only is BTExpress a wonderful fellow and great in the sack, but he can also cook. Get ready for the best tomato sauce you have ever eaten, I kid you not. I have never had a bad word spoken about my sauce only loving praises. Famous chefs from around the world have come to me for this recipe. I need them to stop bothering so that is why I’ve decided to post it on my blog. Hear that Emeril?

Yes, believe it or not, this is my original recipe and not something from a cookbook.

1 - 28 oz can of tomatoes with puree
2 - 28 oz cans of tomatoes with juice
1 - can Delmonte tomato sauce
1 - small can tomato paste
1 – carrot
1 – stalk of celery
1 – one medium sized onion
3 to 10 cloves of garlic (that’s up to you, but at least three)
2 bay leaves
1 Tbl Italian Seasoning
2 tsp dry basil
¼ tsp dried pepper flakes
½ tsp oregano
½ tsp tyme
½ tsp rosemary
½ tsp marjoram
Red wine to taste, ½ cup is good
Food Mill
Large Pot

1. Cut up the carrot, celery, and onion into large pieces. Peel the garlic and put it all in a food processor. Get it as small as possible. Use a little olive oil if you have a hard time.
2. Add a few tablespoons of olive oil to the bottom of a large pot and sauté the contents of the food processor. Be careful not to over cook it. You may want to leave the garlic out of the food processor and add it to the pot just before the tomatoes. Garlic has a tendency to burn and get bitter if you over cook it.
3. Remove the pot from the heat and put the food mill over the pot.
4. Put the tomatoes through the food mill. Discard the seeds.
5. Return the pot to the heat and add the rest of the ingredients.
6. Simmer for as long as you can stand it.

Notes:
The first step of this recipe is the most important. Bet you never thought of adding carrot, celery, and onion did you? It really makes all the difference in the world on how the sauce turns out.

You are also free to add as much of the spices as you like depending on your taste. I usually double what I've listed because I like my sauce flavorful. May I suggest more oregano as a start. It bothers me so that’s why I add so little. But stick with two bay leaves.

Many people don't like their sauce so spicy that’s why I went easy on the spices in the recipe. Remember, you can always add more spices, but can never remove them once they've been added.

By the way, I lied about the famous chefs, the award winning and world famous thing. I just wanted to get your attention. ;-)

I Love This One!

As a woman passed her daughter’s closed bedroom door, she heard a strange buzzing coming from within. Opening the door, she observed her daughter giving herself a real workout with a vibrator. Shocked, she asked, “What in the world are you doing?”

The daughter replied, “Mom, I’m thirty-five years old, unmarried, and this thing is about as close as I’ll ever get to a husband. Please go away and leave me alone.”

The next day, the girl’s father heard the same buzzing coming from the other side of the closed bedroom door. Upon entering the room, he observed his daughter making passionate love to her vibrator. To his query as to what she was doing, the daughter said, “Dad, I’m thirty-five, unmarried, and this thing is about as close as I’ll ever get to a husband. Please go away and leave me alone.

A couple days later, the wife came home from a shopping trip, placed the groceries on the kitchen counter, and heard that buzzing sound coming from, of all places, the living room. She entered that area and observed her husband sitting on the couch, downing a cold beer and staring at the television. The vibrator was next to him on the couch, buzzing like crazy. The wife asked him, “What the Hell are you doing?”

The husband replied, “I’m watching football with my son-in-law!”