GeorgieBoy's Stuff

             MORE  OF GEORGIE_BOYS   STORIES 

         It seems as though I'm getting too many stories on the 
        JUST STORIES page  so I thought I should start another page. 
        With nothing much to do, I just keep writing more dumb stories.  
       And don't blame me for the content......It's all just stories of what 
       has happened to me over my 98 years.... I had no control over it. 

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                  POOPERS  FROM  HEAVEN 
     It was the week before Christmas and Ozzy was not feeling well. Ozzy is a small  
Pomeranian pup who was Helen’s constant companion for many years. After loosing 
a long battle with vascular dementia, Helen left Ozzy and me and we’re doing the best 
we can to quit grieving over our loss. 
    Ozzy has a little doggie door so he can go out onto the patio lawn and do his business, 
and I had been noticing lately that he was spending a lot of time out there…. straining 
to go, and was thinking that he may be constipated and when he stopped eating and 
became listless and slow, I knew I had to do something about it. 
    I took him to the Pomona Valley Veterinary Hospital where Dr. Kahn examined him 
and they gave him an enema. The next day was the day before Christmas and he was  
still listless.  Would not eat and stayed continuously on the patio lawn straining to go 
potty……I took him back to the PVVH where they said he had a high fever and agonized  
about leaving him there over Christmas so they could  treat him. 
    Christmas was not the same without Ozzy. We were all worried about him. During  
the holiday the hospital staff was treating him with various injections and procedures, 
and when I picked him up he was so happy to see me and was eating again. I was 
giving him a laxative as directed but after two more days he was still straining on the  
lawn and unable to go.  So I talked it over with PVVH and we decided that if he had 
not gone potty after I got home from lunch with my sisters, I would bring him in again. 
    At home, after lunch, the first thing I did was to inspect the patio lawn and guess
what I  found....... A gift from Heaven…Three little poopers …….And Ozzy seemed
to have his old pep back.  We were both so happy......I called PVVH so they could be    
happy also/ also.
       I really hate to have to add this extremely sad ending to such a happy story, so
I'm going to make it brief.
    The day after I wrote the above, Ozzy took a turn for the worst and I had to take 
him back to the Veterinary Hospital where in spite of everything they could do for him, 
he passed gently away on the last day of the year.

I made a little  video of our wonderful Ozie in action.

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                     MEAT ON FRIDAY 
   My good friend Louie was a devout Catholic and was a long time member of our  
Pomona Breakfast Lions club. We met on Fridays and he would always have to order  
a special breakfast because he steadfastly refused to eat meat on Fridays which his 
church considered a mortal sin. 
   After many years of this routine, somebody, high-up in the Catholic Church decided  
to make a change and said .... " OK everybody....It's not a mortal sin anymore 
.....You can all eat meat on Friday ".... 
   Well........Poor Louie.....He was very upset and felt like they had made a fool of him. 
He quit the church completely...Never set foot there again. 
   He did, however, contribute generously and upon his death, was given the usual  
high mass funeral.  
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           I  ONCE  WAS  A  HERO  IN  THE  ARMY  

　It was summer time and I had just finished High School and I was having fun  
playing around with my favorite hobby which was experimenting with electricity, 
But I had one problem. My folks were continually after me to get a job and go to work. 
　Lucky for me........I found an easy way out....... On July 15,1940, I enlisted in the 
Army.  Not only did I escape going to work, but I became an instant hero. They 
dressed me up in a fancy uniform to strut around in, and my folks were actually proud  
of me.  And for an extra bonus, I even got my picture in the local newspaper. 
　Since I knew something about electricity, they put me in a new signal corps battalion 
that was just being formed, destined to be sent to Alaska to construct and maintain  
telephone lines. They taught us how to dig fox hole and shoot guns and how to set  
and climb poles, string wire and cable and use all the army communications equipment. 
　And that's exactly what we did in Alaska around Anchorage and later in the Aleutians  
after the war started with Japan. Since I was almost the only one in the whole outfit  
of 200 men that knew something about electricity, they put me in charge of the tech  
section, with a really good rating and pay.......... Lucky Me....I enjoyed being a hero 
in the army.... 
　I spent four and a half years in the army, Most of it in the Aleutians. Discharged at  
23 years old and married my dear Helen Aug.18,1945. 

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                      TIPPI  HEDREN 

   This story is about the only celebrity that Helen and I ever knew...... 
A truly wonderful person who seemed to feel she had the world on her shoulders. 
     Louie and Lorine had three children, as did Helen and I. We met through the  
Lions Club and became life-long friends. Our families did everything together and  
were very close. So when Louie divorced Lorene and married Tippi Hedren, we became  
acquainted with Tippi. Their marriage lasted for ten years while Tippi was managing  
her Shambralla Lions Preserve and Louie was battling his drinking problem. 
   Tippi was a caring and dedicated activist for animal rights and the environment.  
She once said to me, "George....What are we going to do about the rivers?"...... 
   Helen and I felt that Louie did not treat her very well and wondered why she  
would put up with him. I guess it was because she loved him for the man he was  
when he was sober. Also, Louie had money which she needed to do good things in the  
world.  
  Helen and I had some good times with them at the Shambralla Preserve and Tippi  
was a lot of fun but Louie who was normally a wonderful loving guy created havoc  
with their relationship because of his drinking problem. Tippi did all the driving  
........Louie had no license .....too many dui's .... Sometimes when Louie was  
mean to her, Tippi would just take the car and leave, and Louie would have to call  
friends for transportation. 
   Louie was continually complaining about her "Queer" Hollywood friends, as he  
called them, and would insult them and have nothing to do with them.  
   Once while we were dinning at a nice restaurant Louie created a big loud scene  
and Tippi left the table and went into the ladies rest-room. Louie followed her in  
there and took her purse so she could not leave. Helen would always stand up for  
Tippi and would give Louie hell about the way he treated her. 
   Louie had a habit of passing out on a nice velvet sofa and peeing on it in his  
sleep. When Tippi mentioned it to us, He told her ...."You shut up about that,  
It's my sofa.......I can pee on it if I want". 
  I'm sure Louie really loved Tippi with all his heart, and their marriage was not  
always that bad. Tippi handled it very well under the circumstances. 
  In the years after their divorce, Louie hired a housekeeper to take care of him  
24-7 and his drinking problem got even worse. Every night he would drink until 
he passed out. Then one time he forgot to wake up the next morning. 
     Tippi came to his funeral

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                  SPEED READING 

      I've always known that I was a slow reader but it never occurred to me that I 
could do anything about it, however about 30 years ago a friend noticed it and told me  
about a speed reading course that was offered by the local Night School Dept. of  
Education and suggested that I look into it. Well.......I thought about it a little and  
decided to give it a try....... So I did. 
      At the start, they tested my reading and told me I was reading 131 words per. 
Minute, with 96% comprehension. After taking the course they said I was reading a 
whopping 405 words per minute with 31% comprehension........Wow......It really felt  
good to be able to read all the stuff on the television while it was still on the screen, 
but I was having trouble remembering what I read, so I looked again at the speed 
tests and did a little mathematics. 
       I figured out that before taking the course I was comprehending 126 words per  
minute, and after finishing the course I was comprehending the same 126 words 
per. minute. 
       Well......After some high powered thinking about it, I decided that my problem is 
not slow reading, but slow comprehension, or to put it simply..... slow thinking.... 
Which of course, makes me slow at everything I do. What I need is a course on speed  
thinking. But at my present age and doing what I'm doing  now,  Slow thinking may  
be a blessing. My friends and family won't have to put up with as many GrorgieBoy 
stories such as this one. 

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                       LEST  WE  FORGET  MYLAI 
               While going through some old papers that I had saved, I came  
               upon  three  photos that I had cut from Life Magazine long ago.   
              The first photo shows America's enemies before our heroes came. 
              The second photo shows America's enemies after our heroes left. 
              The last photo shows our hero, Lt. Calley, doing his house arrest.  

I do not blame  Lt. Calley for this.  He just happened to be one of our American heroes   
at we send around the world to look out after our interests and kill people. He was only 
following orders and doing his patriotic duty. He was semi-pardoned, with two years 
house arrest. .....Poor guy ....... 
                       Hooray for the Red White and Blue....Home of the Free and the  Brave  
      This story was completely covered up and would never have been told except  for 
 army photographer, Ron Haeberle, who  took the photos. More than a year later, when 
he returned to his hometown of Cleveland,  Ohio, he shared some of the pictures from 
the massacre with the city’s newspaper, the  Plain-Dealer, which published them in late 
November, 1969.

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                    ME AND THE AMERICAN LEGION 
     Lately I’ve been getting a lot of mailings from the American Legion asking me to  
join their great organization, Sending me all kinds of patriotic plaques, certificates, 
decals, and goodies.....so I used their membership form and self addressed stamped 
envelope to send them this reply. 
-Dear American Legion:                     
     Please take my name off your mailing list and forget that I was once a member. 
You are promoting the greatest evil of all mankind. The great philosophers and thinkers  
down through the ages have preached that PATRIOTISM is the root cause of all wars  
and human suffering that goes with them.  Einstein said, ....Nationalism is the measles  
of mankind. 
     It is so easy for well meaning and good people to become caught up in the Patriotic 
spirit as happened in Germany. (World wars one and two) I wish there was a way to 
give all the patriots from all the different countries of the world what they desire, and  
let them have one big war and kill themselves.....Then there would be no more patriots 
and no more wars. 
     I am optimistic, however, that soon with the help of the United Nations and  
communicating over the World Wide Web, we will realize that in spite of different 
countries, religions, and thinking, we are all truly human beings of equal value, And  
PATRIOTISM and NATIONALISM will be looked upon as childish and idiotic. 
     I am a member of the Human Race....That's the organization I belong to and I  
wholeheartedly support it. 
                                     George Streit 
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                      BILLY WENDEL'S STORY 
       In the year 1940, our army company was stationed at Fort Richardson, Alaska 
Just outside the little town of Anchorage. Billy Wendel was a quiet little guy whom we 
never paid much attention to until one time he happened to tell this story. After that,  
the word about his story got around and everybody wanted to hear it. After spending  
Saturday night in the Anchorage bars the company drunks would come back loud and 
plastered and wake Billy in the wee hours of the morning to get him to tell his story.  
So now I'll going to tell you Billy's story, as I've heard it many times. but I'll have to 
clean it up a little to make it presentable. 
      Billy made a living as a trapper in the far northern state of Maine. He had a  
trapping route setup where he would set traps at certain places in the wilderness and  
during the winter he would traverse the route on snowshoes carrying his sleeping bag 
and tools on his back and would be out on the route for two weeks at a time. He had 
food and supplies stashed in trees along his route and he would skin the foxes he 
trapped and hang the furs in trees for later pickup. It seemed like Billy had everything 
perfectly organized but there was one problem...... There were no restrooms along his  
route where he could do ...You know what.... 
      Now this is where his story really begins.........On this particular occasion, the  
snow pack was very deep with lots of fresh snow covering the pack making it difficult 
to walk because the snowshoes would sink deep into the snow, but Billy didn't mind 
because that's when the trapping was the best. However the ......you know what.....  
problem was much worse in the deep powdery snow and Billy was on his 6th day 
without a movement and felt like he couldn't put it off any longer. 
      In telling his story, Billy went into great detail about how, in this freezing weather, 
he had to prepare a place under a big tree, remove the snowshoes, remove his pants, 
put the snowshoes back on,and hang onto a branch of the tree while he squatted down  
and painfully pushed, grunted and groaned his way through the ordeal. And then he 
had to put himself back together again. And when it was over he was so tired and  
exhausted he could hardly stand. 
      After resting a while, Billy said he got up and made his way over to take a look at  
what he had done. All he could see was a big black hole in the snow with steam 
pouring out of it. 

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                         GUNS 
      I found a  poster on the internet that I really liked. The definition was a bit poor. 
      So I made my own version of it with a little more definition. Also I wanted to give 
     our National Rifle Association some credit for the great work they are doing in helping 
     these 9,484 Americans die.

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                  WAR.......THE GREAT MIXER 
     Many times, I've heard that war, is a great mixer. War seems to move people 
around to far away countries and integrates the population with other races and cultures. 
Without war, most marriages would be between home town couples. I know that in my 
own case, I would never have met my life's partner if I had not been a soldier boy  
stationed far from home, and without the Russian Revolution, which brought her folks 
to this country, she would be living in Russia. The same with three of my sisters who 
married soldiers from other states who happened to be stationed in our town. 
     Three of my best friends migrated to the U.S. from Europe because of World War 2 
and I would like to tell their stories...... 
  
KARL STROCHIEM 
     Karl was from a part of Poland where everyone spoke German, and when the  
Germans invaded Poland, they rounded up all the able-bodied young men and trained  
them to be soldiers in the German Army. After several months of training, Karl's  
infantry company was sent to the front lines to do battle with the French. On the first 
day of battle, they shot their German officers and surrendered to the French and Karl 
ended up in a French prison camp. 
     About this time, American farmers were quite shorthanded harvesting their crops 
because most all the young men had been drafted into the military services and the  
French started sending some of the war prisoners to the U.S. to help the farmers. Karl  
was sent to a wheat farmer in Ohio where he helped with the farming and started to 
learn to speak English. 
     After only a couple of weeks on the farm, the authorities made him register for the  
draft and the farmer was having a fit about it. In spite of all the farmer could do, they 
made him take the physical and drafted him into a boot camp. Karl said that on the  
second day at boot camp, all the draftees were standing in a formation and an officer  
was calling their names and asking a few questions. When he called Karl's name, Karl  
answered him with "Ya vol", in German, then telling him, "No sprechen english".  
The officer couldn't believe it, but it wasn't long before Karl was back with the farmer. 
     Karl liked the farmer and stayed with him a few years until the farmer sold the farm. 
Then Karl married the farmer's daughter, got his citizenship, and came to California, 
where he raised a family of his own. 
  
LEON DE'ROOSE 
     Leon was a fighter pilot in the Belgium Air Force. During world war 2, the Germans 
waited a while before they invaded Belgium because they were busy invading France, 
but when they did invade, Leon was called in the middle of the night to get his plane  
into the air before the Germans could destroy the air field. Leon and several others  
were to fly around over the border and shoot down any German aircraft they could find. 
As it happened, there were Germans all over the sky and Leon was quickly shot down 
himself. He parachuted down into German occupied France and with the help of some  
French citizens he was able to escape capture. 
     In his efforts to get back to his Belgium home, however, he fell into German hands  
and was made a prisoner of war in German held France, from where he migrated to 
the U.S. after the war.   He then  was able to send for his wife Marguerite, and they 
both became U.S. citizens. 
  
FRANK  TAKUS 
    Frank made it to this country from Romania after his brother came during WW2.  
 Frank then sent for his son and daughter and they wasted no time in becoming U.S. 
citizens.   
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     I learned from these friends that the people of Poland, Belgium and Romania are  
much the same as we Americans.  Why do we need to have these different countries  
and borders to keep others out ?    
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                  SHORT  STORIES 
         My 70yr old nephew told me that he was really excited about attending his  
50th J.C. class reunion, but when he got there,  all he saw was a bunch of old people. 
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         On Veteran's day, at our Lion's club meeting, we were all telling of what we did  
in the military service.  When it was my turn, I told them that the reason I enlisted in 
the army was that when I was 18 yrs. old, Just out of high school, my parents were 
after me to get a job and go to work.  So I needed to get out of town. I escaped work 
for three and a half years and was a hero in the Army while having fun in Alaska and 
the Aleutians.  
        When it was Ken Sherwood's turn, he told us that he was classified as unfit for 
military service because he had a misdemeanor conviction for underage beer drinking 
 at the Mission Drive-in Theater.  
        We really got a bang out of this as Ken happened to be a past District Governor 
and the most highly respected Lion member in our club. 
______________ 
         At 98 years old, I've almost completely lost my hearing in my left ear. But  
strangely, I can hear my heart beat in that ear. My doctor told me that it was a fairly  
common occurrence in old folks my age.  So I listen to my heart beating all day and  
all night long. 
       Now I'm thinking.......Is this of any value? .... Does it serve some purpose?.....  
I think the answer is  "Yes" ..... When I can hear my heart beat,  I know I'm still alive.   
      Also........There's no need for anyone to chek my pulse anymore.  If my heart  
quits beating, I'll let everyone know about it.   
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                     OLD  CARTOON 
     I found this cartoon that I had clipped from the newspaper 50 or 60 years ago. 
 It was from a time when many poor souls were trying to escape a horrible life and 
sail to the U.S.in home made boats that didn't make it.

Is This guy Donald Trump?