Thursday, April 29, 2010


Do you know this man?

His name is Thomas Hagan. He is a free man, walking the streets of New York City. He was released on parole April 27, 2010. 44 years after being convicted of premeditated murder. His sentence was 20 years to life. In a 2008 court filing, Hagan said he "acted out of rage". A statement like that today would qualify Hagan to face a stiffer penalty for committing a "HATE CRIME." Most people took no notice of Mr. Hagan's release. Others said he had served enough time. And still others, James Small, executive director of the Organisation of Afro-American Unity, told the BBC that the state of New York had "murdered Malcolm again" by releasing Hagan.
Thomas Hagan killed this man:
No, this is not Denzel Washington. This is Malcolm Little, aka, Malcolm X, or most properly El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz. A famous and outspoken civil rights leader during the turbulent 1960s. Hagan gunned this man down in front of a crowd of 400 people that included Malcolm's wife and 4 daughters, on February 21, 1965 in Manhattan's Audubon Ball Room.

James Small argued Malcom X's killer should have been executed or kept in jail until death. But Hagan has met a curfew and held a job, as the parole board demanded, and repeatedly expressed remorse for the shooting. "I have deep regrets about my participation," he told the state's parole board last month. "I've had a lot of time, a heck of a lot of time, to think about it."

My personal favorite quote of Malcolm X is:
I don't believe in any form of unjustified extremism! But when a man is exercising extremism in defense of liberty for human beings it's no vice, and when one is moderate in the pursuit of justice for human beings I say he is a sinner.

I have been an ardent admirer of the Leaders of THE CIVIL RIGHTS MOVEMENT IN AMERICA. And pretty much anything that deals with the America of my youth. American history is not a hobby of mine. It is more of a vocation. A dedication, and an infatuation. And I get incensed by people who try to use a perverted twist of truth to support how HISTORY is on their side of a debate, when the truth is clearly the opposite of what they portray it to be. So when I read an opinion that said "America would never released Thomas Hagan if he had killed a white man, or he would never have been punished if HE were WHITE and killed a person of COLOR."

Well you don't have to look too far back in American History to refute or confirm this accusation. May it please the court? I present the following;

Case #1. A white man,

 This is one of the last pictures of Robert F. Kennedy while he was alive. He was shot in Los Angeles, California, in the Ambassador Hotel, on  June 5, 1968.

Mr Kennedy was assassinated by this man of color, Sirhan Sirhan. A parole  hearing for Sirhan is now scheduled every five years. On March 15, 2006, he was denied parole for the 13th time.  He did not attend the hearing, nor did he appoint a new attorney to represent him. His next possible chance for parole will be in 2011.
That comes to 43 years in prison. Only the future will show if Sirhan will out stay Mr.Hagan's 44 years of incarceration.

Case #2.
LT William Calley, circa 1968-69.

On March 16, 1968 Calley did this to 504 people in the QUANG NGAI Provence, Republic of Viet Nam, In a Hamlet Named My Lai.
In 1969 a massive cover-up of the massacre was undone. And LT Calley was tried and and convicted of premeditated murder of 22 Civilian Non-Combatants. And sentenced to serve "Life in Prison at Hard Labor."
After serving 3 years in AT HOME Confinement, Captain Calley was given a Presidential pardon. And today he looks like this:
Now before you lump me into a group of bleeding heart anti-Military, Anti-War apologists, let me further tell you that there were US ARMY OFFICERS who received Medals for their actions to save civilians from the Boys in "COMPANY C."

 This is Warrant Officer 1, Hugh Thompson. He was a helicopter pilot who witnessed the carnage and landed his aircraft a began a rescue operation to save civilians who were still alive and being pursued by Calley and his men. WO1 Thompson went to confront Calley and gave his Helo Crew orders to use deadly force to save the survivors.

For their actions Thompson was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and his crew were awarded Bronze Star medals. In 1998, their medals were replaced by the Soldier's Medal, "the highest the US Army can award for bravery not involving direct conflict with the enemy." The medal citations said they were being awarded "for heroism above and beyond the call of duty while saving the lives of at least 10 Vietnamese civilians during the unlawful massacre of non-combatants by American forces at My Lai".

Thus endeth today's history lesson. But it still doesn't answer the question of EQUAL JUSTICE??? IN  AMERICA.
Your opinions are welcome______________________.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010


If a person's eyes are the windows of the soul! What do you see when you look into these windows?

Here's looking at you kid...

Sunday, April 25, 2010


A burglar broke into a house one night. He used a flashlight to find his way to the China Cupboard. As he started to load the silverware into his bag, a voice in the darkness spoke to him.
It said "Jesus is watching you."
"Who said that?" he said in reply.
The voice said, "My name is Moses."
The thief wheeled around and spotted the source of the voice with his flashlight. Centered in the beam was a huge parrot. The bad guy chuckled to himself and asked "What kind of people would name a parrot Moses?"
The parrot replied "the same kind of people who would name a Rottweiler JESUS."

A cowboy, who just moved to Wyoming from Texas , walks into a bar and orders three mugs of Bud. He sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more.
The bartender approaches and tells the cowboy, "You know, a mug goes flat after I draw it. It would taste better if you bought one at a time."
The cowboy replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in Arizona , the other is in Colorado. When we all left our home in Texas , we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days when we drank together. So I'm drinking one beer for each of my brothers and one for myself."
The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there.
The cowboy becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way. He orders three mugs and drinks them in turn.
One day, he comes in and only orders two mugs. All the regulars take notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, "I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss."
The cowboy looks quite puzzled for a moment, then a light dawns in his eyes and he laughs.
"Oh, no, everybody's just fine," he explains, "It's just that my wife and I joined the Baptist Church and I had to quit drinking."
"Hasn't affected my brothers though."

Have a good week.


Mental Health Experts agree:
      There are Five Stages Of Grief

       1. Denial and Isolation.
          At first, we tend to deny the loss has taken place, and may withdraw from our usual social contacts. This stage may last a few moments, or longer.
       2. Anger.
          The grieving person may then be furious at the person who inflicted the hurt (even if he/she is dead), or at the world, for letting it happen. He/She may be angry with themselves for letting the event take place, even if, realistically, there was nothing or no-one who could have stopped it.
       3. Bargaining.
          Now the grieving person may make bargains with God, asking, "If I do this, will you please take away the loss?"
       4. Depression.
          The person feels numb, although anger and sadness may remain underneath.
       5. Acceptance.
          This is when the anger, sadness and mourning have tapered off. The person simply accepts the reality of the loss.

    On 11 December, 1984 I received a phone call. It was my mother, calling to give me the news. My younger brother, 5 years my junior at the tender age of 27, had taken his own life. I was in California. My Mom was in North Carolina, and my Brother Sean was in Denver, Colorado. I had spoken on the phone with Sean, only three days before. This just couldn't be happening. I had to be dreaming. Stage 1!

    I skipped stage 2, and went directly into trying to make a deal with a God, I didn't yet believe in. Everything else in my life was going great. I was happily married. Owned my own home, had recently been promoted in rank to Senior Chief Petty Officer (E-8). I went "ALL-IN" and asked to trade everything I had to get my little brother back. "God, you don't have to raise him from the dead. Just let this be a case of mistaken Identity. Let this be somebody else's brother. Surely that can't be too tough for an all powerful God, like you."

    Three days later I was back in North Carolina. And so was the body my brother was no longer using. My mother didn't have the time (so many visitors) or the desire to go make funeral arrangements this time. This was the second son she would bury in her life time, and she asked me and my sister to go. We did.

    The day was dreary, cold and gray. The trees were nude of foliage. The air was silent, windless and misty. The weather matched my mood perfectly. Sullen, but not weeping. Sad, but wanting to tell a joke just to break the monotony. But my timing was off and everything I said sounded humorless. I met people I hadn't seen in years. I was unmoved by their sentiments. Perhaps they meant well. Were they trying to cheer me up? Or were the trying to console me? Or possibly trying to help themselves get through this darkness? I didn't know or care. I just couldn't feel anything. For my brother, for myself or for them. I was numb. I didn't even feel the cold of the night as I walked outside. I know it was cold out because it had started to snow. But why couldn't I feel it? I even tried to get stoned with some old friends. Not to dull my grief. But to try and feel something. Anything! This was full on stage 4. And there was no relief in sight.

    We rode to the Catholic Church of my youth, to ask God to bless those of us who were left behind. The casket was closed because my brother had chosen a particularly gruesome way to mortally wound himself. That was just fine with me. I didn't want to have the last time I saw Sean, for him to be dead. I knew I'd never be able to erase that picture from my slate.

    There were maybe 300 people in Church that morning. I had no idea my brother even knew that many people, much less had that many friends. I was even more impressed when they all got in their cars and followed to the cemetery. Sean's grave was a few yards away from where our youngest brother Eric had been buried 25 years earlier. And about 200 yards from where my Grandmother was resting, and about 40 yards from where my mother would be laid to rest 12 years later. When they lowered the coffin my heart sank with it. My brother was gone. There was no changing that. All the things he had known or would ever know were gone. Everything he ever had, or would have were gone. Everything he said or would say were gone. His love, joy and compassion were all gone. I stood at the graveside and told him goodbye. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I felt the breeze in my hair. Only 7 days since the phone call and I was in stage 5. Damn, this was easy. Or so I thought.

    There are only 5 stages of grief and I had accepted that my brother was gone. And there was nothing easier than what I had just gone through. Those so called MENTAL HEALTH EXPERTS were full of tartar sauce. There are in fact 5 stages in the grieving process. But the order in which they occur aren't always the same for everyone. I had completely skipped over step 2.

    And 3 days later I jumped into stage 2 (ANGER), head first, and stayed there for about 5 years. My little brother who had felt that the only way to escape the torment in his life, was to kill himself. It was a very drastic decision and I couldn't imagine how terrible I would have to feel to come to a similar decision. So I became furious with everyone I could remember who may have added to Sean's torment. My ass-hat father was at the top of the list. Followed closely by my brother's ex-wives (2). The list grew exponentially. Fortunately, for me, no-one on my list ever died mysteriously. I would have been any District Attorney's dream come true. I had means, motive and intention. Perry Mason couldn't have won that one. Even I was on my list. Every cross word I had ever uttered to my brother came back to haunt me. Then one day while I was recalling a particularly nasty argument we had about 15 years earlier, I decided that I was to blame for his decision. And I was bound by honor to make me pay for it.

    But I came to my senses and realized that nobody but my brother knew what his motivation was. No-one was to blame but him. It was his decision and his decision alone. No one can make anyone take their own life. Anyone can make you do almost anything else. But only you can make you over-ride your instinct for self preservation. Whatever the motivation. It will not sound sane to those left in its wake. That is because there is something very unsane going on in the mind of the perpetrator. There is something very unsane about taking your own life. There is nothing anyone can do to stop a suicide, and there is nothing anyone can do to cause one.

    His friends had told me, that he had told them, he had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. His second ex-wife, who had found his body in her bedroom, had told us he was always stoned or drunk. The coroner's report showed that neither of those statements were true. The police had only found 4 things in the room that did not belong to his ex-wife. A pack of Marlboro cigarettes, a box of matches, a 12 gauge shotgun and a leather bound copy of the KING JAMES BIBLE. Back then I took very little notice of the book's presence. But today I am greatly comforted knowing it was with him.

    If you or someone you know deals with this type of loss keep in mind these lessons.
    1. There is no-one to blame.

    2. You must go through all 5 stages. But the order may be different.

    3. The length of time for each stage varies by the person experiencing it. Don't judge another person's love of your lost one by the length of time it takes them to get through it.

    4. The feelings of loss will never be completely gone. However they won't always be as intense as they are in the beginning. And they won't last as long either.

    5. One day you will wake up and that person will not be the first thing that crosses your mind. Don't punish yourself for it. And don't punish others for their not thinking of the lost one.

    6. Let others do things for you now. They won't feel motivated later.

    7. Find someone who will let you show emotions. Then show them.

    8. You are not the only person who has gone through this. There is comfort in company of like minded people.

    9. Get some help.

    Friday, April 23, 2010

    An Introduction to a person who needs no intro

    My name is Meth,
    I destroy homes,
    I tear families apart,
    I take your children,
    And that's just the start,
    I'm more costly than diamonds,
    More precious than gold,
    The sorrow I bring,
    Is a sight to behold,
    If you need me,
    Remember I'm easily found,
    I live in around you,
    In schools,
    And in town,
    I live with the rich,
    I live with the poor,
    I live down the street,
    And maybe next door,
    I'm made in a lab,
    But not like you think,
    I can be made under a kitchen sink,
    In your childrens closet,
    And even in the woods,
    If this scares you to do death,
    It certainly should,
    I have many names,
    But there's one you know best,
    I'm sure you have hear of me,
    My name is Crystal Meth,
    My power is awesome,
    Try me you'll see,
    But if you do,
    You may never break free,
    Just try me once,
    And I might let you go,
    But try me twice,
    And I'll own your soul,
    When I possess you,
    You'll steal and you'll lie,
    You do what you have to,
    Just to get high,
    The crimes you'll commit for my narcotic charms,
    Will be worth the pleasure you'll feel in your arms,
    And nose,
    You'll lie to your mother,
    You'll steal form your dad,
    When you see their tears,
    You should feel sad,
    But you'll forget your morals,
    And how you were raised,
    I'll be your conscience,
    I'll teach you my ways,
    I take kids from parents and parents from kids,
    I turn people from God and separate friends,
    I'll take everything from you,
    Your looks and your pride,
    I'll be with you,
    Always right by your side,
    You'll give up everything,
    Your family,
    Your home,
    Your friends,
    Your money,
    Then you'll be alone
    I'll take and take,
    Till you have nothing more to give,
    When I am finished with you,
    You'll be lucky to live,
    If you try me be warned,
    This is no game,
    If given a chance,
    I'll drive you insane,
    I'll ravish your body,
    I'll control your mind,
    I'll own you completely,
    Your soul will be mine,
    The nightmares I'll give you while you lay in bed,
    The voices you'll hear from inside your head,
    The sweats,
    The shakes,
    The visions you'll see,
    I want you to know these are all gifts from me,
    But then it's too late,
    And you'll know in your heart,
    That you are mine,
    And we shall not part,
    You'll regret that you tried me,
    They always do,
    But you came to me,
    Not I to you,
    You knew this would happen,
    Many times you were told,
    But you challenged my power,
    And chose to be bold,
    You could have said no,
    And just walked away,
    If you could live that day over,
    Now what would you say,
    I'll be your master,
    You'll be my slave,
    I'll even go with you when you go to your grave,
    Now that you met me,
    What will you do,
    Will you try me,
    Or not,
    It's all up to you,
    I can bring you more misery than words can tell,
    Come take my hand,
    Let me lead you to hell

    Thursday, April 22, 2010

    Wednesday, April 21, 2010

    A guy walks into a biker bar and...


    Sunday, April 18, 2010

    How big is big?

    If you think in terms of size! Exactly how big are you? Ponder this...

    Of the inner planets ours is a big world.

    But after that. We don't have that much room after all.

    Even our star is bigger than we thought.

    Or is it?


    In 1932 Astronomer Edwin Hubble discovered that the multiple Nebuli in the sky were made up of  Galaxies. In 1990, We launched a space telescope named after Mr. Hubble, to view those things we can't see from our planet's surface. In 1996 We saw the Hubble Deep Field pictures.


    In the darkest part of the series they found 3,000 galaxies, each one containing billions of stars like our Sun. It turned out the Hubble Space Telescope is a time machine. Using a measure called a Standard Candle, Astronomers have determined that the light from those galaxies is 13.7 billion years old.


    And yet, Someone knows how many hairs are on your head,

    and not even a single sparrow dies apart from His will (Mt 10:29-31)!




    AND DON'T SWEAT THE SMALL STUFF!  It's all small stuff.

    And, IT'S ALL UNDER CONTROL (Job 38)

    Friday, April 16, 2010

    Thursday, April 15, 2010


    You wanted them. You got them.
    My BIKER CHICK pictures. Some are wearing black leather. Some are in their BIRTHDAY SUITS.
    Young and tender. Here they are!

    Sure Happy It's Thursday.

    Wednesday, April 14, 2010

    I know I promised not to do it anymore. But;

    I was greeted this morning in my email with  a particularly disturbing announcement. If you have a GMAIL Account and you received a similar message please do not respond to it...


    From:; on behalf of; Mail Delivery Subsystem []

    Subject: Termination

    With the recent malicious activity that Google encounter from hackers, therefore the Google Team are currently upgrading the database systems and require you to verify your account to avoid suspension. If you are still interested in using our email service please provide us the details below for validation purpose.
    Full Name
    Phone Number
    Note: This email is only for Gmail Users.

    - The Gmail Team

    The headers of the message are completely  FORGED and did not come from GOOGLE...

    Monday, April 12, 2010

    Train Train

    Don't play this if you are at work. Otherwise turn it up.


    LOST, OR NOT...

    Be warned!!
    This film clip contains the Music, Dancing and Clothes that will bring about the end of our civilization.


    Saturday, April 10, 2010



    The Burning of Washington took place on August 24, 1814, during the War of 1812 between the British Empire and the United States of America. The British occupied Washington, D.C. and set fire to many public buildings following the American defeat at the Battle of Bladensburg. The facilities of the U.S. government, including the White House, were largely destroyed, though strict discipline and the British commander's orders to burn only public buildings are credited with preserving the city's private buildings. This is the only time since 1783 in United States history that a foreign power has captured and occupied the United States capital (Philadelphia  was captured by British forces in 1777 during the American Revolutionary War).

    Historians assert that the attack was in retaliation for the American looting of York, Upper Canada (now Toronto) after the Battle of York in 1813, and the burning down of the Parliament Buildings of Upper Canada. The British Army commanders said they chose to attack Washington "on account of the greater political effect likely to result,".
    Governor-General Sir George Prevost of Canada wrote to the Admirals in Bermuda calling for a retaliation for the American sacking of York and requested their permission and support in the form of provision of naval resources. At the time, it was considered against the civilized laws of war to burn a non-military facility and the Americans had not only burned the Parliament but also looted and burned the Governor's mansion, private homes and warehouses.

    The buildings housing the Senate and House of Representatives—construction on the central rotunda of the Capitol had not yet begun—were set ablaze not long after. The interiors of both buildings, including the Library of Congress, were destroyed, although the thick walls and a torrential rainfall preserved their exteriors. (Thomas Jefferson later sold his library to the government to restock the Library of Congress.) The next day Admiral Cockburn entered the building of the D.C. newspaper, National Intelligencer, intending to burn it down; however, a group of neighborhood women persuaded him not to because they were afraid the fire would spread to their neighboring houses. Cockburn wanted to destroy the newspaper because they had written so many negative items about him, branding him as "The Ruffian." Instead he ordered his troops to tear the building down brick by brick making sure that they destroyed all the "C" type so that no more pieces mentioning his name could be printed.

    The troops then turned north down Pennsylvania Avenue toward the White House. After many of the government officials — and her own bodyguard — had already fled, First Lady Dolley Madison remained, gathering valuables, documents and other items of importance. She, or perhaps members of the house staff, rescued the Lansdowne Portrait, a full-length painting of George Washington by Gilbert Stuart. Imagine if you will, Hillary Clinton or Michelle Obama, staying in harms way to preserve historically important art work.

    Mrs. Madison was finally persuaded to leave moments before invading soldiers entered the building. Once inside, the soldiers found the dining hall set for a dinner for 40 people. After eating all the food, they took souvenirs (e.g., one of the president's hats) and then set the building on fire.

    As the fires razed the US Capitol, the torrential rains became a full blown hurricane, with gale force winds pummeling the invaders into seeking shelter from the storm. Eye-witness accounts suggest there may have been a tornado. The result is that the English Army left post haste, and moved in the direction of Baltimore, Maryland. A city that was label by the London Press as "A Nest Of Pirates."

    The attack on Baltimore was to be a two pronged assault. A ground assault by the British army led by The Brits best tactical leader, Major General Robert Ross. In the early morning hours of 12 September 1814, an unknown American sniper shot and killed General Ross. The army suffered a power vacuum and the land attack was a lost cause. The 9,000 Maryland Militia Men withstood the venerable English professionals and the only coarse of military action left to the British was the Naval assault. But, guarding the seaward access to Baltimore Harbor was the Legendary FORT McHENRY.

    Fort McHenry, Designed by Frenchman Jean Foncin in 1798 and named after James McHenry, a Scots-Irish immigrant and surgeon-soldier who became Secretary of War under President Washington, Fort McHenry was built after America won its independence to defend the important Port of Baltimore from future enemy attacks. It was positioned on the Locust Point peninsula which juts into the opening of Baltimore Harbor, and was constructed in the form of a five-pointed star surrounded by a dry moat — a deep, broad trench. The moat would serve as a shelter from which musketmen might defend the fort from a land attack. In case of such an attack on this first line of defense, each point, or bastion, was fortified, so that the invading army would be caught in a crossfire of cannon and musket fire.

    Beginning at 6:00 A.M. on September 13, 1814, British Admiral Cockburn, ordered his warships to begin a bombardment of the fort that lasted for 25 hours. An estimated 2,000 explosive shells and 1700 rockets along with other ordinance pummeled the battle works of the fort. At one point a British cannon made a direct hit on the forts powder magazine. But it failed to detonate and the defenders continued the fight.

    The American defenders were under the command of Brevet Lt. Col. George Armistead. They did suffer casualties, amounting to four killed and twenty-four wounded, including one African American soldier and a woman who was cut in half by a bomb as she carried supplies to the troops. In anticipation of the British attack on the fort, Armistead had commission the purchase of an over sized American Flag, to ensure the enemy would know who the were fighting against. The flag measured 30X42 feet, and was hand sewn by Mary Pickersgill for exactly $405.90.

    A marine assault was launched by the English. However the sharpshooters and mortar teams inside the fort repulsed the assault landing, and the English marines returned to the ships. At 7:00 AM Admiral Cockburn, ordered his ships to weigh anchor and return to sea. The outcome and fate of the fort was unknown to the Americans outside the fort. A Washington lawyer who had come to Baltimore to negotiate the release of Dr. William Beanes, a civilian prisoner of war, witnessed the bombardment from a nearby truce ship. The lawyer had been against the war from the beginning. And he was confused by the British ships leaving the area.

    When the lawyer caught sight of the giant flag still hanging over the fort, he was filled with so much emotion and patriotic fervor, he was compelled to write a poem. He titled his poem "The Defense Of Fort McHenry." A year later the poem was set to the tune of a popular British drinking song, written by John Stafford Smith  "The Anacreontic Song"
    Set to the poem's lyrics and renamed, it would soon become a well-known American patriotic song. The song was recognized for official use by the US Navy in 1889 and the President in 1916, and was made the national anthem by a congressional resolution on March 3, 1931. Only the first stanza is commonly sung today. But now you know the history behind our National Anthem.
    God bless America. And grant wisdom and courage to our elected representatives.

    Friday, April 9, 2010

    Time is running out

    For most U. S. Americans you only have 6 days left to file your income taxes. If this serves as a first reminder to you, you need to get going soon. But there's another clock running and this event require prior arrangements. It doesn't take place until the first full week in August. But if you've waited until now to get reservations, you might be covered in tartar sauce.

    A tiny town of 7,000 people, in South Dakota, every August open their town and hearts to the motorcycle enthusiasts of the world. For that one week, the population of Sturgis, S.D. swells from 7,000 to 495,000. And these bikers come from every country, race, creed, vocation, political view point, income level, size and lifestyle. Nearly a Half million people with only one thing in common. A love of motorcycles! There is a great deal of rowdiness, mostly by the posers. The real bikers are more mellow than you'd expect. And All the 1%er clubs call a truce and declare The Sturgis Rally off limits to violence. That doesn't mean they all pal around together. And it is only wise to be respectful of their privacy when you see them. And if you are told to stop taking their picture, I recommend you comply. Unless you want your dental plan activated.

    From my driveway in SoCal to the entrance of THE BUFFALO CHIP CAMPGROUND is 1657 miles. A full 2 days of riding. It could be done shorter. My scoot gets 145 miles on a tank of gas. But my rear-end is only good for about 125 before I have to stop and stretch a bit. For around $200.00 for a ten day stay, Woody and his crew at THE CHIP, put on a first class party. With World Class musical live entertainment included. Some of the performers I've seen include STEPPENWOLF, ALICE COOPER, JETHRO TULL, ZZ TOP, 3 DOORS DOWN.

    This year the concert headliners includes DAVE MASON Aug. 6, TESLA Aug. 7, CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVISITED Aug. 8, ZZ TOP Aug. 9, KID ROCK Aug. 10, MOTELY CRUE Aug. 11, JASON ALDEAN Aug. 12, SCORPIONS Aug. 13, and THE DOOBIE BROTHERS Aug. 14, 2010.

    Be there or be square. Here are some of my pictures from my visits to Sturgis.






















    The Sturgis Rally is not X rated. But there isn't much to entertain the youngsters here. Unless they have a serious jones for motorcycles and panoramic scenery. Within a two hour drive you can get to Mount Rushmore, Deadwood (where Wild Bill Hickok was killed), or The Devil's Tower in Wyoming. A few miles west on I-90, in Spearfish, S.D. is a WALMART, where everything is cheaper than in STURGIS. And a word of caution. Riding while intoxicated is not safe and that particular law is strictly enforced. And when headed west on I-90 out of South Dakota, the Wyoming State Highway Patrol has a radar trap waiting for you. And they don't share the hospitable attitude you enjoyed in South Dakota.