About My Blog.

Welcome! This is "Catatonic Digressions."
Most readers don't understand my blog's title. It's an old inside joke from a forum long gone. I was going to change it, but since it's been "confusing" for so long, I decided to leave it. Don't worry about what it means, the content of the blog is what matters...or not

Unfortunately, my blog isn't what I set out for it to be. A sick woman in Orleans, MA began stalking me in 2007 on Myspace. Since that time, this woman obsessed over me to the point of having the police come to her home and threaten to confiscate her laptop. She is a racist and anti-Semite.I could no longer blog freely, knowing this nutbag was just going to take the photos I'd post and put them on a child exploitation website.

This site is only up for the information it has that others might need to know about. That information is about "Seal Shepherd" aka Michael McDade, Kat McAboy aka Marilyn McAboy and Veronika Hompo, a self-proclaimed Nazi.

I'm a real person. I'm real and I don't pretend to be someone I'm not. After years of putting up with online abuse by manipulative, pathological liars, attention whores or narcissists, I've had it. Don't bother me with pathetic drama. I have no time for these types of people and their need to absorb others' time and attention.

This blog is no longer used. I've retired it for the most part unless something very important comes up.

Please, join Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, and follow them on Twitter and Facebook.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Funny Faces in the 70's (and some old memories)

Guess who! Yep, this is me back in the 70's. I can still remember sneaking out of my room to hide behind the couch to watch TV shows my parents were watching, or to hear them playing board games in the kitchen with friends. I wondered if they knew I was sneaking out of my room often, so I asked the other day, and my mom said, "no, I only caught you a few times." Ha ha! I watched one series that was after my bedtime, I just can't recall the name of it. I can't believe no one heard me breathing behind the couch, or saw my head poking out of the side. 

I climbed trees, even if they were a few stories high, and I played baseball and wiffleball. (I was tougher than some of the boys on the block.) I had metal clamp-on roller skates and a fiberglass skateboard made by BUNGER. Whoops, no, the fiberglass board replaced my wooden skateboard I had at this age. I eventually smashed the nose of the wooden deck in a slight crash ;) My parents taught me to swim when I was very young, so by the age you see me here, I was able to dive off the high board and I was on the swim team for a while. Every summer we spent at the beach; here on Long Island and at least 3 to 4 weeks in Florida. When we were in Florida, my grandparents were with us, too. My grandfather had a plane, a Navion, and sometimes he flew some of down. My son is named after him. I'd flew in that plane from 6 months old on. My grandfather taught me to scuba dive, too. I've been face to face with barracudas right off Hollywood beach in FL. and watched electric eels duck into their homes in the warm waters off Cozumel.

Even danger has never been a stranger. The year a commercial airliner crashed in Virginia from wind shear, we were flying back from Florida and a storm suddenly moved into our path. It was one of the most amazing things to witness — being in the center of open sky with angry dark cloud surrounding you — fighting clouds, thundering and lighting bolts like you can't see from the earth. My face was glued to the window in awe. My grandfather had to land, and we were being guided to a little airport. The entire way down was bumpy and frightening. We'd drop so many feet in seconds, I was holding onto the bottom of my seat, as it that would help! The plane was swaying left and right so drastically, my grandmother was hysterical and my sister was just silent; mortified. We didn't land the first time — wind shear. It hit, and it almost flipped the plane. We headed for a hangar, and my grandfather told us to be as calm as possible. My grandma, a totally non-religious woman, screamed out, "Oh God, God, we're going to die! Harry! Do something!!!" I actually think at that moment, my grandmother probably did ask God to save us. My grandfather's response? "Shut up, Rose, I'm trying to fly the plane!!!" This was not said in a cruel way, but in a moment of stress and a need to concentrate on getting us back into the sky and as far away from the hangar, which was getting closer each second. Seconds before we hit, my grandfather managed to get his plane up and over that hangar, and we were back in the sky, circling the airport again. The tower asked if he'd like to give it another shot, and my grandpa said yes. On the go-ahead, he brought the plane down; it was the most bumpy, frightening landing of all the landings I'd ever experienced. The plane tried to flip to the left, then to the right...it was so close to hitting the ground with a wing. Then we landed.

My grandfather got a standing ovation when we walked into the little waiting area at that small airport. People shook his hand, congratulated him and told him how brave he was. And he was. 

I sure can't complain; between my Dad and my Grandpa, I got to do almost everything. Who could ask for anything more! 

Wow, what a tangent I went on! Back to the funny faces pictures!

Thanks Dad! One of hundreds of fun and silly days we can remember :)

All images ©2008 Suzanne/spookie Not to be Used Without Permission.

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