Contrary to Popular Belief...

So, it was Saturday night and I was heavily engaged in infiltrating the Germans' highly classified Magazzeno Facility. After I had fought my way through a crap load of Deutsche Fallschirmjäger, all proclaiming that they were going to track me down and annihilate me, I realized that the hour was quite late. Hhmm, hold that thought boys, we must continue this dance at another time. I need to make haste to the blog and write something.

Otherwise, all of the Chanters who rely upon Your Humble Scribe and his faithful minions for summat to entertain them over morning coffee will be sore disappointed.

Grumbling (sotto voce) about this blogging activity cutting into my computer gaming time, it struck me that I had volunteered for this gig, hadn't I? So I should quit bitching and start writing. But it was just a tad short of the midnight hour, attendance at Holy Services the next morning was expected and I needed something.

Fast.

I contemplated a re-run, something I am wont to do now and again of a Sunday, but decided that I didn't have anything in mind. I mean, I've been on a bit of a history kick as of late, with more in the offing, and didn't want to, ya know, break the streak. So...

I offered up this, an exercise for the readers, so to speak. It's a topic I have been meaning to address for some time now, having numerous readers from the Southland and no inconsequential number of "damned Yankees" on the roles as well. (I count myself both by birth and inclination to be one of the latter. Though in truth I root for the Red Sox. Dad was a Yankee fan, Mom loves her Red Sox, I grew up in a divided household. Bitter it was during the season of America's pastime. Ah, things could get heated. And yes, I digress. Badly.)

Anyhoo.

A couple of propositions, things I've been meaning to blog about though have been somewhat reluctant to do so. Southerners have long memories, so I've been told, and the great bloodletting of 1861 to 1865 is a topic often near the surface of my own thoughts. So I threw those propositions regarding the WBtS, ACS, WoNA, what-have-you, out to you, the readers, to solicit your thoughts and opinions on the topic.

Then in the comments, I see that dear Beans had tossed a salvo in my general direction.

As can be seen, I tossed out a witty (read lame) comeback and was relieved that our Suz had dashed in to rescue Yours Truly. Good lady that Suz.

Anyhoo.

Beans didn't hit too far from the mark with his bon mot but it was more of a "holy crap it's almost midnight and I haven't written a post yet" than it was a, "heh, let's just toss this out there and let the readers thrash away at it without my input."

Ya see, Beans has noticed that I respond to comments. Each and every one (usually) though as of late it's getting hard to keep up with y'all. I mean, you folks like to comment, a lot. There are days when I'm answering one comment, publish it and "DAMN, there's another one" coming up right after the screen refreshes. Deuced prolific thou art.

I mean, I like it. A lot. But Sunday's post I wanted to put out there, let you folks beat up on it for a day or so before I chimed in with my own two cents. Well, you've done so and given me much to think on. I have my own opinions and thoughts on those two propositions but I'm not ready to share those just yet. Not to mention, y'all made some very good points, I may need to rethink my position on a thing or two regarding that conflict between the blue and the gray (or butternut if you will).

Good stuff, but damn it, it makes my head hurt to think so much. Especially on a Monday.

So expect more reverberations from Sunday's post. But it's going to take a while. I mean there is grass to watch grow, ponds to look at, and, most importantly, adult beverages made with hops and barley standing by which are not going to consume themselves. Know what I mean?

I need to think, cogitate, ruminate, and contemplate, so...

Contrary to popular belief I was not:

• wool gathering
• goofing off
• taking my ease
• lounging about
• wasting time
• slacking

..this past Sunday instant.

Well, maybe I was.

A little.