A long time ago when I was a boy I would visit my cousin and aunt and uncle in Northern Michigan for a couple of weeks every summer.

I remember one summer when I was 12 years old and my cousin was around 13 we were helping my uncle load hay bales on to the trailer while he drove the tractor.  It was hard work because the bales weighed around 70# each and it took the two of us to put one bale on the trailer.  My uncle had about 15 acres in hay for his 6 dairy cattle, 1 horse, and 2 goats.  When I arrived in mid-summer it was the second haying.  Which means it was pretty hot and dry.  It is also when the houseflies seem to really multiply.  If you have ever been near farm animals there are always plenty of flies.

Now, to the art of killing.  When we were in the field working my aunt would make us a pretty big lunch and we always had plenty to drink.  I actually learned this from my cousin.  When we would take a break for lunch the flies were everywhere and you had to keep all things covered.  Carrying a flyswatter with you was impractical, so my cousin devised a way to get rid of the little buggers.  Rubber bands.  Simple but deadly. 

We ate are lunch pretty fast and my cousin gave me one of his rubber-bands.  I noticed that the rubber-band was broken.  I asked him how do  you kill a fly with a broken rubber-band?  He said watch.  He took one end and put it between his thumb and index finger and took the other end and did the same with his other hand.  I watched in amazement after he dispatched seven flies with seven shots.  The key is to site down the rubber-band and using the thumb that is closest to the fly and pulling the other end back to your eye and letting go with the hand closest to your face.  Never, let go of the other end it could snap back and hit you in the face.  The rubber-band weapon acts almost like a slingshot.  By the time my two week vacation was over I was almost as good as my cousin.  We were able to knock some of the flies out of the air, had a ball.  By the way it works very well on yellow jackets and hornets.

After about 500 shots or so the rubber-band will start to wear out and it is time to replace it.  We used a rubber-band that was about 3/16? wide and maybe about 4? long.  When we would cut it in half it allowed us to kill a fly at around 2-1/2?,  it would stretch that far.  I never checked the speed of the rubber-band weapon by I would guesstimate that it travelled at a rate of 50? per second, about twice as fast as a housefly could move.  They never had a chance.  Oh, one more thing if a fly is real close to you then move the hand that is closest to the fly halfway back on the rubber-band and then pull back with the other hand and let it go.  It will improve your chances of dispatching the close ones.  Oh yeah, one more thing do not do this at the dinner table especially when your wife, mother, girlfriend is serving soup.  If you really are on target the last thing the fly will see is his butt going through his head.  It can get pretty messy.

Anyway, I had fun sharing this with you and if you should try it good hunting.  Be careful because it is a weapon.

As Always have a good one!

He passed yesterday from a cancer of the spine.  If he would have listened to me he would still be with us and cancer free.  But he chose to go the chemo/radiation/stem cell route and he lived through hell for the last 2 years.

Two years ago he was complaining of a lower back problem and it was painful just to sit or walk or even drive in a car.  He finally went to his doctor and they did some tests and could not find anything.  His doctor referred him to the Mayo Clinic and they did more intrusive tests which were extremely painful.  After about a week his doctor called and told him that they had found cancer near his tailbone and it was travelling up his spine.

So, he and his family met with the team of doctors at Mayo and they explained everything to them.  What type of cancer, what stage he was in # 3, and what treatment they were going to administer.  He started the chemo and the radiation and after about 3-4 months of treatments the cancer was arrested.  He seemed to be fine and in good spirits and the lower back pain was not a problem.  He did have some effect from the chemo because it was a powerful dose. 

While his life was not back to normal he could at least function.  He went back to work half days and was doing pretty well considering what he went thru.  He would go in for tests every month to see if the cancer was still arrested.  On the 4 th month after the initial treatment they found cancer again.  This time it came back with a vengeance.  The doctors decided to use stem cell and a huge dose of chemo, really powerful stuff. 

While he lived about a year and a couple of months and yesterday was the end.

Now, after his initial treatment I told him if it ever comes back please investigate the new German Treatment, and that they are saving about 99% of their patients.  I also found out that there is a doctor in Tijuana who has bought the German Equipment and is experiencing the same results that the Germans are.

The German Treatment for Cancer is they have developed a machine that brings the body temperature up to a fever height.  They maintain this for a set programmed time depending on the patient, type of cancer, and so on.  They knew in the early 1900’s that cancer cells, any cancer cell cannot survive when the body has a high fever.  They are curing all types of cancer without any side effects as you have with chemo.

The problem is, is that the FDA will not approve this for use in the United States.  However, I have since found out that President Reagan and at least two top people from the FDA went to Germany for that treatment rather than go thru Chemo.

Amazing, and they still will not approve its use in the US.  I know if I ever get cancer I will be contacting the doctor in Tijuana.  I have had  many friends and relatives go thru chemo and radiation, some survived and some did not.  But, all of them suffered witht that type of treatment.

It is at least worth investigating for your own peace of mind.

As Always have a good one.

This is an old post.  This is for the readers who enjoyed Skunk Land.

Mother Earth goes like this.  It was told to me by my grandfather.

It is a Native American Story, and I am not sure which tribe it comes from.

“Those without heart have no soul, those without soul will never find peace, and those without peace only care about themselves.”

As Always have a good one.

Posted by GreenPowerGuy on August 22nd, 2010

By the way this is a true story.  Before I start talking about this man I have to share a little family history because it really helps the story.

My Great-Grandfather, my Grandfather, and my Father were all born in Traverse City, Michigan.  Traverse City is in the northern 1/3 of the lower peninsula situated on Lake Michigan.

Around 1922 when my father was about 2 years old, my grandparents my father,and my great uncle and aunt and their daughter who was a year or two older than my father moved from Traverse City to Grayling, Michigan which is about a hour and 1/2 east of Traverse City.  They moved because their was not much work in the Traverse City Area.

The Grayling Area was looking for able-bodied men who could cut wood ( loggers ).  My grandfather and great uncle each purchased a 40 acre parcle next to each other.  My grandfathers parcel had a converted garage with 2 bedrooms on his 40.  My uncles’ 40 was vacant.  The six of them stayed in that cabin for a couple of years until my uncle built a small home on his 40.  During the time they lived there together my grandfather and uncle cut wood, hunted, fished, and trapped to support themselves.  A pretty hard life.

About 3 years passed and my uncle and aunt had a son, who was my uncle Don.   When the Depression hit there was very little work anywhere.   I think it was around 1935 when my grandfather and uncle moved to a farm town north of Detroit to find work.  My grandfather became a cabinet maker and my uncle became a tool and die maker.  I am not sure exactly when but my uncle Don moved back up to Grayling and married my aunt Peg.  They lived in my great uncles home that he built on his 40 acres.

My uncle Don and aunt Peg had a daughter first and then had a son a few years later named Donnie.  Donnie and I were first cousins and were like two peas in pod.  I would spend a week with my grandparents in the summer at the cabin and then I would spend another week with my parents on vacation at the cabin.  Then I would spend another week with my family hunting pats.  Pats are ruffled grouse or partridge.  When Deer Season came along in November,  Donnie and I spent another week together.  The point is I spent a good amount of time in Grayling every year.

One summer when I was 12 I was staying with my uncle Don and aunt Peg for 2 weeks.  My cousin Donnie had to go to some birhtday party one day so I asked him if I could borrow his bike and his fishing rod and his creel while he was gone so I could go Trout fishing on the East Branch of The AuSable River.  After digging up some worms and catching a few grasshoppers I was almost ready to go when my aunt Peg made me a roast beef sandwich with onions and ketchup.  She also gave me some potato chips, an apple. and a Nesbit Orange Pop for my lunch.  The East Branch is about a 3 mile ride from their house.

It was probably about 10:30 in the morning when I arrived at the stream.  The northern part of the East Branch is fairly narrow and is not very deep in most places.  Back then as a kid I wore Keds Tennis Shoes and blue jeans and waded in the river like that.  I did not have waders or anything like that, you expected to get wet and fished until you got cold.

While I fished for about 2 hours and had 4 Brook Trout.  Back then they had to be 7 ” or longer and you were able to keep 7 fish.  I was looking to catch one more so the 5 of us could each have a fish to eat at supper.   As I mentioned you start to get cold after awhile, so I decided to eat my lunch and warm up a little.  When I was almost finished with my lunch a Nash Rambler station wagon pulled up and parked on the other side of the river.  Keep in mind the river is only 10? wide at that point so I could see pretty good.  Anyway,  that station wagon was one of those with the real wood on the outside, pretty expensive.

A tall slender man got out and opened the back hatch and pulled out a fly rod, waders, and his creel.  While, I am thinking to myself I have to let this man know I am here because I only needed one more trout for dinner and I did not want him to go to the best holes without me catching that 5 th. trout first.  So, I stood up and cleared my throat in the most manly voice I could muster and said to the man I was about to go fishing downstream and I have already fished up stream for a couple of hours.   What he said to me kind of took me back a little when he said son it looks like you have covered the entire river, however would you mind fishing together downstream?  While this man had a nice smile and spoke very softly and I said OK.  It is customary when two fisherman are fishing together one will fish one hole and the other will fish the next hole and so on.

He was using dry flies and I had worms.  On his first cast he landed a 12? Brown Trout a rarity for the north part of the east branch.  We fished a few holes and he asked me my name, I told him and then he said that he knew my gram-pa Al and my great uncle Clarence.  He said that my grandfather was a great shot, he used to shoot pats on the wing.  While he must of seen the puzzlement in my face because I was thinking to myself what is the big deal I shoot pats on the wing with my shotgun.  He then said, your grandfather shot pats with a 22 rifle.  Wow, I really was impressed with my grandfather.  We fished for another hour and I finally caught that 5th. trout for dinner.  I was getting cold  and told him I had to leave and get back home to my uncle Dons’ house.  He told me that it was time for him to go as well and since he only caught one trout, would I like to have the one he caught?  Of course I said yes.  He then told me to say hello to my gram-pa and my great uncle when I see them.  Since he had only told me his first name I asked him, what is your last name so I can tell my grandfather and uncle.  He looked me in the eyes and you tell them that Fred Bear said hello.  I was floored, I have just spent over an hour  with one of the greatest bow hunters in the world, and he gave me his fish to boot.

For those of you who do not know who Fred Bear is I will attempt to explain.  Fred Bear is the pioneer of archery in America.  He hunted on every continent in the world and took game that was extremely hard to get or extremely dangerous.  He started and owned Bear Archery in Grayling, Michigan.  He was a environmentalist long before it became fashionable.  He was a very nice man and as tough as they come.  He was able to survive for weeks at a time on his hunting trips.  And he was a real sportsman, who dedicated his entire life to the sport of archery.  He was a great naturalist as well.

Since the title of this story is how I met him twice, I will tell you about our second meeting.

I was 25 and working for my father as a sales rep selling Power Transmission products to industries.  Power Transmission products are couplings, motors, reducers, v-belts and things like that.  I noticed one day that there was a sales lead from Bear Archery and Fred Bear had inquired on one of the products we represented and since I was going to Grayling to go trout fishing anyway I would make his call the last stop of the day.  The second Saturday was the trout opener in Michigan.  I made calls all day and wanted to get to Bear Archery around 2:30 or 3:00 PM.  When I arrived, I went in and asked the receptionist if Mr. Bear was available.  She asked me my name and then I heard this voice from his office,  ask him if he ever bought a pair of waders and does he own a fly rod yet?

He remembered.  Anyway, Fred and I had a very good time rehashing things.  The once tall man I knew as a youth was not that tall anymore, I was bigger than he was.  That was the last time I saw Fred, but I cherish the 3 or 4 hours I spent with him.  I knew him as well as anybody did and I will never forget him.  He was a great American Hero in my book.

If you are ever in Grayling, Michigan go to the Fred Bear Museum you will be impressed.

As Always have a good one.

Posted by GreenPowerGuy on August 6th, 2010