Kermit Roosevelt made the most of his father, Teddy's, global good will, in how doors opened to him worldwide as a trade upon the Roosevelt name.
I find it interesting that as Kermit was off in World War I with the British forces fighting in the Mideast against the Ottoman Turks and their German allies, as me was in command of a machine gun car, trying to get back to France in order to join the American forces.........yes note this in here was an American not looking to get his John Kerry 3 wounds to get out of Vietnam or a Birther Hussein making claim to registering for the draft when it did not exist, but an American seeking battle.
People simply were different in that era among the patrician and the famous. Accept for example, Major A. B. Paterson of the Australian forces in the Middle East. Some will remember him as Banjo Paterson, and if that does not ring a chime, then you will remember, The Man from Snowy River. Yes it was this writer who wrote that book which made it into a movie almost a century later.
I will post Kermit Roosevelt's short interchange in finally meeting this man from Oz, but it is telltale in all of this in, this was a famous man, and everyone knew him, even if they never met the man. Being successful, he probably could have stayed in Oz and had a barbie with a few kangaroo steaks, and no one would have thought different, but the thing is, in the war which saw Rudyard Kipling's son killed in battle, Banjo Paterson, was someone who actually lived life, and the life he wrote about.
"When I left Mesopotamia I made up my mind that there was one man in
Palestine whom I would use every effort to see if I were held over waiting
for a sailing. This man was Major A.B. Paterson, known to every Australian
as "Banjo" Paterson. His two most widely read books are _The Man from
Snowy River_ and _Rio Grande's Last Race_; both had been for years
companions of the entire family at home and sources for daily quotations,
so I had always hoped to some day meet their author. I knew that he had
fought in the South African War, and I heard that he was with the
Australian forces in Palestine. As soon as I landed I asked every
Australian officer that I met where Major Paterson was, for locating an
individual member of an expeditionary force, no matter how well known he
may be, is not always easy. Every one knew him. I remember well when I
inquired at the Australian headquarters in Cairo how the man I asked
turned to a comrade and said: "Say, where's 'Banjo' now? He's at Moascar,
isn't he?" Whether they had ever met him personally or not he was "Banjo"
to one and all."
What jumps out at me is the reality that he not only experienced life in the Boer War in South Africa, a little war where Queen Victoria asked her chums if South Africa had anything in it England desired, and the reply was, "Nothing", up until the day diamonds were discovered and then the British red coats descended upon that fair land of Dutch Boers and decided to take it all back.
It was a war where another famous author, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, experienced the Afrikaaner Riflemen, who literally almost destroyed the British forces........but Sir Arthur came back to England and promptly started the National Rifle Association, to teach British peoples how to shoot, instead of being shot.
Granted, that South African war might have been the Zulu wars, but just the same it was the natives all buggering the British about with effect of spear or rifle.
"On my return to Alexandria I stopped at Moascar, which was the main depot
of the Australian Remount Service, and there I found him. He is a man of
about sixty, with long mustaches and strong aquiline features--very like
the type of American plainsman that Frederic Remington so well portrayed.
He has lived everything that he has written. At different periods of his
life he has dived for pearls in the islands, herded sheep, broken broncos,
and known every chance and change of Australian station life. The
Australians told me that when he was at his prime he was regarded as the
best rider in Australia. A recent feat about which I heard much mention
was when he drove three hundred mules straight through Cairo without
losing a single animal, conclusively proving his argument against those
who had contested that such a thing could not be done. Although he has
often been in England, Major Paterson has never come to the United States.
He told me that among American writers he cared most for the works of Joel
Chandler Harris and O. Henry--an odd combination!"
I find it very appealing that Banjo Paterson, drove 300 mules through Cairo without losing a one, much to the chagrin of all those in the service who said it could not be done.
Thing is with equine, one just sort of gets behind them and "shoos" them along, as horses only work in being led by a real rope, and when it comes to a herd, the equines all do best in being given their head and then just steering them from behind.
No animal really likes a 90 degree turn down another street, and when you get them going in a line, they just keep going, whether it is a elk trail in Colorado or a ravine in the Outback with the Brumby.
At 60 years old, he was still filled with more than the Vegemite. I can think of no better remedy for western manhood and femalehood, to have them still spry for the saddle, the gun, the oar and other real pursuits, instead of golf or passing laws no one desires to be criminalized by.
Contentment comes from actually testing your person in a real way, and it is why Theodore Roosevelt espoused as all American the martial life of firearms, horses and dogs, as it set a soul in the right mind for direction from God, and they no longer have anything to prove once gaining power.
Would have been an excellent holiday really for the Obama wars, if he meant to win them for the west and not the Caliph, to have had the grande parade of Mel Gibson, Ted Nugent, Christian Bail, Bale, Bayle...sorry do not have the name, all down to the Philistine lands, and taking resort at Cairo.
Cairo would be the much better, and poor Lara Logan would not have gotten her knickers knocked by the Obama mob there.
How about popping round and see Mel. Be right good mate in Mel fights better with the liquid courage. Hell America could have won the whole shebang with Mel leading and a couple of trucks full of Tanqueray.
TL has me enjoying that with Fanta, but absent that, some horrid orange soda with some red soda mixed in does the job too, what not eh.
The point in all of this is, you just got to piss on the ground you live on and not in the pipe mate. Can't live life from a laptop mind you. All that heat will make your sperm all fossilized and no woman's eggs like sperm jerky in the womb. Women on the other hand got enough of that soy man milk in them that they could use a bit of cooling in the twat zone.
The Twat Zone, sounds like a good movie or book title, but I don't have the time trying to find some money to live on, than to write nether region books about........you know women I read get a thrill out of ice cubes up that zip code, so it seems damned if you cool or damned if you run up the mercury on that one......course get some Muchelle Obama's thanger and with that two digit zip code, probably need a bag of ice or a nuclear fuel rod to make a temperature variant in that degree.
Where was I?
Banjo, see that is the sort of thing you hear round the camp when you got real men around, as someone never shuts up and the rest just let the popular girl do all the entertaining.
I do not know what a Joel Chandler Harris is, but I did hear of that candy bar writer O Henry. Can't say I read that fiction stuff, as once you pull the trigger for real, you get a hankering to rustle up your own tucker.
The world once produced men, and in the pluribus mind you, who accomplished things called life. Now all life is, is an existence. Few get their adventure in sorting out their own acre of land as one does not have to go to the moon for entertainment.
I have to go now do something, but Kermit was in hell, and now through God's Grace, he is much pleasing to Teddy again in Heaven. Thought I would throw that in as we sheilas got to stick together.
agtG
