Dear K.V. - A long time ago, I quit my job and trucked on down to Key West to save a "fair young maiden" from the horrors of a Southern Jail. Well, by the time I got there, she had already vamoused, never to be seen by me again... Oh well... while working my way back to my home up North, I worked on a Sugar Cane Plantation. The well buffed word "plantation" says it all. "Overseers;" "Dri vers," "Fpremen" the whole slave owners' business model is still intact. The Bossman owner is still the arrogant bastard that defines their beliefs and theirbehaviors.

I had paused hoeing the cane to breifly enjoy the sunrise, the huge flock of birds sailing in (as seemed to be their morning routine) and rising on the air currents to become little dots way up in the sky... Anathema! I found out.

The boss, the owner, I supposed, floored his old station wagon, raising dust all the way up to where another fellow was working with me, told me "to stop leaning on that hoe and get back to work!" (which I did). It wasn't long before the owner of the camp I was staying at - an upstanding guy - came up to us and told me he "was sorry but had to fire me..."

I had no idea how to get back to camp across miles of sugar Cane fields, but he was kind enough to get some of the tractor drivers to make a wagon chain, getting me back to the camp.

Anyways, my point is that the Confederacy still exists and the bigots are everywhere... It seeme like I had dug up old petrified bones.