10. Return of Betty Jane

March 10th, 2010

When last I left the ‘Betty Jane and Foxie’ story line, it was unclear if she ( Betty Jane ) had found her “Monday pantie’s” or if she had turned into some sort of an apolitical, apathetic and redundantly posing doll, or if she was quite simply dismayed by her far too sophisticated fashion-look. She had at one time become somewhat of a Rhastafarian, which was totally unacceptable in the State of Texas. But thankfully, she saw through the error of her ways.
Of course having been abducted by aliens can be quite disconcerting for most of us, however she did return. And with her was her old friend Foxie, an added addition of great worth to all involved. His presence inspired her to new heights of fashion awareness. I am thinking you might enjoy the following photo’s of her as she appeared upon her return:

9. Betty Jane’s Coloring Book

February 18th, 2010

Here's to you 2009

December 31st, 2009

WHEN YOU'RE NEAR THE EDGE

December 16th, 2009

Play Real Audio | Get MP3 

The line was drawn
The swords were crossed
Your words were worse
They made you the boss

But you shouldn’t step on to the ledge
When you’re near the edge

The night was long
And the moon was round
My pride was hurt
But it came around

But you shouldn’t step on to the ledge
When you’re near the edge

How you turn out
Might be coincidence
But you might be stronger
If you have to work on it

But you shouldn’t step on to the ledge
When you’re near the edge

All that you are
(and it do add up)
Is what you do
Just don’t depend on luck

But you shouldn’t step on to the ledge
When you’re near the edge

Copyright 1984 Caroline Abbitt Sauer

8. Betty Jane Gives Up Politics

December 2nd, 2009
Betty Jane Gives Up Politics

Betty Jane Gives Up Politics

The day I got some credit for being my father's daughter

September 28th, 2009

One fine day last spring, when the day was way too hot to be cabin fevered at home, I decided to set out on my own as The Collingsworth Foundation from our British allies, a society worthy of much praise and attention, sent three planes to the Austin (used to be Bergstrom AFB) Airport this year, while I was very ill from stress related trauma.

I went to forget my own problems and  saw a WWII B-17, and a B-24 (the only operational airplane of its kind today) and a P-51 Mustang fighter plane. I was able to tour the interior of that last B-24 unaided by constraints, as I had my father’s autobiography with me. I showed them my info and they allowed me (just as the plane was preparing to take off), to stand in what would have been my father’s place, standing between the pilot and the navigator – as he did that June day back when many young American servicemen lost their lives in WWII.

I am a 62 year-old woman. As I crawled in severe pain ( up what used to be the opening that my Dad grabbed and hopped up with his strong upper body strength, and agile young body ) up a stairway provided for us ‘civilians’ to enter and be given a tour by an unbelieveable person. I was allowed free access there in his stead and envision what he might have experienced. As tears filled my eyes and I was unable to suppress the sob that shocked even me (and believe me I’ve had my own trails and tribulations) — I stood in silence and pain for some 10 minutes while the possibilities of the stories that I had heard and read about filled my mind and memory. The attending crew member was seemingly amazed that I, who had been limping into the exhibit, my metal hip and knee starting off the usual alarm upon my entrance and probably with out my cane, was able to make it through the side tunnels of that old beautiful airplane, that had been carefully restored and that was kindly offered is in view to the public.

I was filled with pride at what my father and his crew members had done back in WWII, as I will always be so. I hold that day in my heart of hearts, one of my finest memories — I hope all service brats do too.

When I was a youngster, I remember playing with my brother and his friends and my father on an old B-17 that he too guided, as a navigator, his own flock through the perilous, impossible days when the 408 delivered supplies, troop carriers, and the gasoline ( fuel ) to Patton’s army and managed above impossible odds to survive, but they did back then.

Though I may be known for my humour and imagination, there is nothing that can take the place of that day inside the last B-24, when the tears that fed my heart and soul leaped out of my eyes like salt water into a burning and saddened but conscious old lady, who made her way into her aging and still heroic father’s place – this time in March of 2009.

And today, I am remembering all of us old “military-brats” of those heroes of what was truly the war to end all wars. They were there.

Compared to those sacrifices made way back then with these that I have made in my life to entertain and amuse, and try to cling to the hope you do too; mine are down to 0.01.

I am glad that I have survived to tell you this story today. As for all the funny stuff that had me linked to ‘comedy land’; it can remain out there as everything on this internet can do. I only hope we in the US of A continue to have the trust and nerve to continue in the spirit of fighting the forces of evil – that, as Jakob Dylan said “Evil is alive and well.”

Heard on the Ferry going back to Cambridge, from a recreational venture to Revere Beach in 1941

September 22nd, 2009

     My good old dad, Col. Charles Webb Abbitt, of Appomattox, Virginia,  is a ‘well-spring’ of timely stories and sayings.  I have memories of laughing to the point of tears over some of them. But this particular phrase has stuck with our family for four generations.  I find it a brilliant description, one that stands on it’s own, as a culturally significant sample of the New England way of speech. Hopefully, that region’s accent remains with us today and has not acculturated into’ SVEN SPEAK’, but what can you do?   Traces of it’s unique quality will still be there, where and when people still talk to each other, there “where each Winter is too cold  to smile.”(1.)   Sometimes they even listen; but that is an acquired taste, for sure.


    This saying has stuck with me all my life as a useful and wonderful, discriptive key phrase – with out peer.   It is a true conversation blocker, no question.    This particular phrase was heard by my dad, in 1941 back when I wasn’t around to write about some of his more, amazing adventures.  But in the fall and winter after graduation, with a new degree in Electrical engineering.
, after he graduated from Virginia MilitaryInstitute, in May of that year, after some strange shuffling around the country in the Army Infantry (!), he was assigned to a Research and development graduate program at Harvard.  No summer Vacation for him that year. 

     This time period was before America’s official involvement in WWII, as those History Buffs that know stuff  like that would remind you.  He (my dad) was participating in the study and research and development that became Radar, something really very pertinent to the present day advancment of technology, but often overlooked as a “given.”  But it’s development we owe to the unforgotten, with -out equals, brave World War II Veterans of  The United States Army Air Corp and those other guys: (…our Alies at that time…)

     Times Changes, and so do names:  ”The Army Air Corps ” was then. What is now:   The United States Air Force,  …Dad had some of the most amazing exeriences–  But Soldiers ,  in keeping to their purpose at what seems to be insurmoutable,  personal distruction, here in the United States, anyway,  have their own  speacial brand of  humor, with Wit and Wisdom, and a certain “Can-Do” attitude.   Notice each Branch of the Military seemed to create their own funny phrases, just to get through what must have been more than horribly tough times, more horrible than we civilians can begin to  imagine.

     This is our infamous family Key Phrase; It is the kind of thing that floots thru the air if you listen closely, and have sufficient acting skills and knowlegde of correct deportment and use it quite formally and naturally. With out causeing a ruchus or reacting, my father and his then companion held a dead-pan-facial-expression, even when a knee slapper like this one came along. And for this disonant sort of comment, great protocol, repressed hilarity and calm acting skills were used.  Even as I goof-up the editing of my story, I am laughing while trying to hold my sides together.   So many people ,even now–have problems with my Dad’s comic delivery;  just like that day back then when he returned from a balmy afternoon spent at in recreation at the always entertaining “Rah-Veeah”  “beach.”   It happend that way that day, when a shrill very loud voice belonging to a strange young woman said very publicly:

Geeze, Freddy,Aint it Row-manic? …      The Sky am lousey ‘mwit Staahrs.”

     Thanks Dad!,  And to all our remaining Veterans of WWII,  as well as our current soldiers over seas. (with speacial apologies to those with the Boston-Proper accent, which I aquired (temporarily) when I was 15 years old, then droped like a stone.
     Don’t forget…”The Sky am lousey  ‘mwit  Staahrs”, and that  just maybe, we’re all looking, and wishing on the same one.

     With great respect for our soldiers no matter who, what branch, when and where they are. 

     I have a picture of my Dad,when he was about the same age, when he was in a most serious and attentive pose while addressing the Commanding officers, as well as the whole group of Troopers and Crew assigned to this mission, which was indeed the biggest air strike in the history of the planet: The Army Air Corps were getting supplys, gasoline and one  overwhelmingly serious  and tenecious air support for General (5 stars)-George Patton when he drove on cross the Rhine River into Germany, at the beginning of the end of Germany’s tendency to overshoot it’s realistic goals.

 

 


Caroline Abbitt Sauer (AKA) Kay Buena

Spammers: Don't Start that—-, that not just ignorant, it's fooaar out in right field 'estupido."

September 20th, 2009

And while I’m reviewing some of my weirdest chance meetings with strange types (that wouldbe you) of personages, let be be sure you know that I know how strange this may all seem. I sometimes wonder why I waste my time writing up something I work really hard on, and Edit until your hind-end knocks on my door, cause not only did I not write this damn post, but you all can go stick it up there where the sun don’t shine, cause, I’m out of here.  and thanksssss for all youses Help.. If wishes were horses than beggars would ride.  Isn’t that amusing, ……………………………………………………………………….except the one I get to hear some time from you, and I promise not to promise to keep that promise.  I think of myself as a battered old woman, which I am you asses.

7. What Happened to Betty Jane

June 30th, 2009

So out of nowhere (while I was wondering where B.J. had gone) she walked inside my house, which scared the f___ing Hell out of me (which was a personal first for sure). And lo and behold that doll and become a Rastafarian!

“Oh, s___ in a hand basket,” I screamed (like a Banshee).  What does it take to get you to act normal, anyway? I have practically pulled out my hair and rolled around like a circle around the planet Earth (as though Saturn didn’t already have enough rings in the first place). However, will there ever be another Uranus?

And although Betty Jane seemed a tad shocked by my exclamation, then it occurred to her: Jeeeze, you know what: that old bitch really is my real little girl — so I think my next move is to become the oldest Young Republican, and that she did.

And that’s the story, y’all.

The Day I got some credit for being my Father's daughter.

June 18th, 2009