I recently tried to take 2 files from my cell phone to merge into one to make a ringtone. My two youngest grandchilden saying, "Grandma, I'm cawing you" and "Hey Danma". Well, once I got them onto my computer, I could see that they were QCP files. What??? No program on my computer would recognize them. Then I found this neat little tool that converts files from your browser! Once it's complete it gives you a link to click to download your finished product! I thought it was very, very cool. I got what I needed; and, of course, it's FREE! Media Convert
I had a couple of wav files that I needed to convert to mp3s, so I used the old trusty cdex program. It can be downloaded here
My daughter often watched this show. She also has an artistic gift. While, for the most part, she hasn't used it the ways that she might could have, it is now helping her with her current job.
I recently came across one of his DVD's, so I looked up his information.
Bob Ross was the creator and host of The Joy of Painting, a television program that ran for twelve years on PBS stations in the United States. The show ran from 1983 until his death in 1995. He died of lymphoma at the age of 52. An original Bob Ross oil painting for sale is somewhat rare despite the large breadth of his work. One can be found occasionally listed by a private owner on eBay selling for around $6,000 to $10,000 USD along with proper paperwork of authenticity and provenance. (quoted from wikipedia)
I came across this little treasure while surfing recently. I haven't had the opportunity to listen to it yet, but it sounds great!
About Antietam: The Lost Command
Civil War History brought to life in classic radio style! An action-packed tale of espionage, betrayal, and romance, set against the bloodiest day in American military history. The year is 1862 and three Confederate prisoners of war learn that the union forces have discovered Robert E. Lee's plans for the upcoming Battle of Antietam. They escape, to warn Stonewall Jackson of certain ambush, but their time is running out. Only the infamous southern spy, "Rebel Rose" Greenhow can help them sneak into war-torn Washington to alert the Confederate underground and stall McClellan's deadly attack. Edge-of-your-seat suspense and mile-a-minute action explode before your very ears in this non-stop audio drama event!
This one also captured my interest, but it is rated PG13.
Strange Stories is a series of tales-- all written by Mike Murphy-- that focus on the strange and the fantastic. In this series, you will experience tales of mystery, science fiction, fantasy, and horror that will exercise your imagination. MisfitsAudio hopes that our productions of these unusual tales entertain and thrill you.
"The Screwtape Letters" is fiction. But only fiction in the sense that the characters and the dialogue sprang from the imagination of one of the greatest modern Christian writers. Yet in our terrestrial reality the issues confronted in this book play out in our lives every day.
The book contains thirty-one letters from Screwtape to his nephew, Wormwood, who is screwtape's underling in fiendishness. Screwtape is an upper-level functionary in the complex bureaucracy of the underworld. The "Screwtape Letters" are friendly advice from this elder statesman to a front-line tempter on how to procure the soul of his "patient", a young Christian man just trying to live out his everyday life.
We get the letters only from one side of the correspondence
(Screwtape's), yet the story of the meanderings of the Christian
"patient's" soul is clearly read between the lines. The letters
begin with Wormwood's failure to keep his subject from becoming
a Christian. The urbane Screwtape informs him that, although thisis an alarming development, his patient is by no means lost tothe dark forces of evil.
World War II serves as the backdrop for the Letters. Yet war and
strife do not play a significant roll in the work. The book is
about more everyday and universal problems. Problems every
individual must deal with even today. Thus, each letter addresses various aspects of the travails of the human soul and how the devil tempts that soul away from goodness and toward evil - not evil on a grand scale, but evil on a petty scale. They show how evil can seep into a Christian's relationships
with friends and family, in his views on the church, even in his
practice of prayer.
As each letter unfolds, we find the Christian "patient" slipping more and more out of the hands of Wormwood and his temptations.
Screwtape's advice to the tempter becomes more firm and yet more
subtle. And, by degrees, we come to see the workings of evil in our own hearts. "The Screwtape Letters" is a book that entertains while it instructs. It is a book to be treasured and studied.
A coworker showed me this video about the Kung Fu Hillbilly. I actually only really laughed after seeing the Jerry Springer videos. You have to watch the other videos to truly appreciate this character.
If you're a lady who has ever had her nails done in one of the Asian salons, you'll appreciate this comedian. Her name is Angelah Johnson.
Robert Johnson, born Robert Leroy Johnson (May 8, 1911 – August 16, 1938) is among the most famous of Delta blues musicians. His landmark recordings from 1936–1937 display a remarkable combination of singing, guitar skills, and songwriting talent that have influenced generations of musicians. Johnson's shadowy, poorly documented life and death at age 27 have given rise to much legend. Considered by some to be the "Grandfather of Rock-and-Roll", his vocal phrasing, original songs, and guitar style have influenced a broad range of musicians, including John Fogerty, Bob Dylan, Johnny Winter, Jimi Hendrix, The Yardbirds, Led Zeppelin, The Allman Brothers Band, The Rolling Stones, Paul Butterfield, The White Stripes, The Black Keys, The Band, Neil Young, Warren Zevon, Jimmy Page, Jeff Beck, and Eric Clapton, who called Johnson "the most important blues musician who ever lived". He was also ranked fifth in Rolling Stone's list of 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time. He is an inductee of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Among the songs Johnson recorded "Come On In My Kitchen", "Kind Hearted Woman Blues", "I Believe I'll Dust My Broom", and "Cross Road Blues". "Come on in My Kitchen" included the lines: "The woman I love took from my best friend/Some joker got lucky, stole her back again,/You better come on in my kitchen, it's going to be rainin' outdoors." In "Crossroad Blues", another of his songs, he sang: "I went to the crossroads, fell down on my knees./I went to the crossroads, fell down on my knees./I asked the Lord above, have mercy, save poor Bob if you please./Uumb, standing at the crossroads I tried to flag a ride./Standing at the crossroads I tried to flag a ride./Ain't nobody seem to know me, everybody pass me by."
"Me and the Devil", and "Hellhound On My Trail" are both about betrayal, a recurrent theme in country blues. The terrifying "Hell Hound On My Trail", uses a common theme of fear of the Devil and is often considered to be the crowning achievement of blues-style music.
Six of Johnson's blues songs mention the devil or some form of the supernatural.
Undisputed facts about Johnson's life are few and far between. More often than not, his legend has obscured the few grains of truth which can be discerned. According to the myth, the young bluesman desperately longed for fame and fortune. Johnson was not satisified with his own musical abilities and felt that he needed more talent to achieve success. He was already bitter toward his creator, blaming God for the death of his beloved wife and unborn child. Despondent and irrational, he made a momentous decision. At the stroke of midnight, he walked down to the windswept crossroads at the junction of Highways 61 and 49 in Clarksdale, MS. Reciting an ancient incantation, he called upon Satan himself to rise from the fires of Hell. In exchange for Johnson's immortal soul, the devil tuned his guitar, thereby giving him the abilities which he so desired. From then on, the young bluesman played his instrument with an unearthly style, his fingers dancing over the strings. His voice moaned and wailed, expressing the deepest sorrows of a condemned sinner.
THE DEVIL TAKES HIS DUE
Just as the story of Johnson's life is filled with contradictions, the circumstances of his death also remain murky at best.
The most likely explanation is that the bluesman was poisoned with strychnine by a jealous husband, after Johnson unsuccessfully attempted to rekindle an old romance with the man's wife. Following his spurned overture, he was drinking at a juke joint with Sonny Boy Williamson. His friend strongly cautioned him not to drink from an open whiskey bottle on the table, but Johnson paid him no mind. He suffered terrible convulsions and died several days later, on August 16, 1938. Even in death however, Johnson could not find any lasting peace. To this day, his final resting place is still the subject of considerable debate. In Mississippi, there are actually two different grave sites which bear his name.
Meeting with the Devil at the Crossroads
A "vision", as told by Henry Goodman
Robert Johnson been playing down in Yazoo City and over at Beulah trying to get back up to Helena, ride left him out on a road next to the levee, walking up the highway, guitar in his hand propped up on his shoulder. October cool night, full moon filling up the dark sky, Robert Johnson thinking about Son House preaching to him, "Put that guitar down, boy, you drivin' people nuts." Robert Johnson needing as always a woman and some whiskey. Big trees all around, dark and lonesome road, a crazed, poisoned dog howling and moaning in a ditch alongside the road sending electrified chills up and down Robert Johnson's spine, coming up on a crossroads just south of Rosedale. Robert Johnson, feeling bad and lonesome, knows people up the highway in Gunnison. Can get a drink of whiskey and more up there. Man sitting off to the side of the road on a log at the crossroads says, "You're late, Robert Johnson." Robert Johnson drops to his knees and says, "Maybe not."
The man stands up, tall, barrel-chested, and black as the forever-closed eyes of Robert Johnson's stillborn baby, and walks out to the middle of the crossroads where Robert Johnson kneels. He says, "Stand up, Robert Johnson. You want to throw that guitar over there in that ditch with that hairless dog and go on back up to Robinsonville and play the harp with Willie Brown and Son, because you just another guitar player like all the rest, or you want to play that guitar like nobody ever played it before? Make a sound nobody ever heard before? You want to be the King of the Delta Blues and have all the whiskey and women you want?"
"That's a lot of whiskey and women, Devil-Man."
"I know you, Robert Johnson," says the man.
Robert Johnson, feels the moonlight bearing down on his head and the back of his neck as the moon seems to be growing bigger and bigger and brighter and brighter. He feels it like the heat of the noonday sun bearing down, and the howling and moaning of the dog in the ditch penetrates his soul, coming up through his feet and the tips of his fingers through his legs and arms, settling in that big empty place beneath his breastbone causing him to shake and shudder like a man with the palsy. Robert Johnson says, "That dog gone mad."
The man laughs. "That hound belong to me. He ain't mad, he's got the Blues. I got his soul in my hand."
The dog lets out a low, long soulful moan, a howling like never heard before, rhythmic, syncopated grunts, yelps, and barks, seizing Robert Johnson like a Grand Mal, and causing the strings on his guitar to vibrate, hum, and sing with a sound dark and blue, beautiful, soulful chords and notes possessing Robert Johnson, taking him over, spinning him around, losing him inside of his own self, wasting him, lifting him up into the sky. Robert Johnson looks over in the ditch and sees the eyes of the dog reflecting the bright moonlight or, more likely so it seems to Robert Johnson, glowing on their own, a deep violet penetrating glow, and Robert Johnson knows and feels that he is staring into the eyes of a Hellhound as his body shudders from head to toe.
The man says, "The dog ain't for sale, Robert Johnson, but the sound can be yours. That's the sound of the Delta Blues."
"I got to have that sound, Devil-Man. That sound is mine. Where do I sign?"
The man says, "You ain't got a pencil, Robert Johnson. Your word is good enough. All you got to do is keep walking north. But you better be prepared. There are consequences."
"Prepared for what, Devil-man?"
"You know where you are, Robert Johnson? You are standing in the middle of the crossroads. At midnight, that full moon is right over your head. You take one more step, you'll be in Rosedale. You take this road to the east, you'll get back over to Highway 61 in Cleveland, or you can turn around and go back down to Beulah or just go to the west and sit up on the levee and look at the River. But if you take one more step in the direction you're headed, you going to be in Rosedale at midnight under this full October moon, and you are going to have the Blues like never known to this world. My left hand will be forever wrapped around your soul, and your music will possess all who hear it. That's what's going to happen. That's what you better be prepared for. Your soul will belong to me. This is not just any crossroads. I put this "X" here for a reason, and I been waiting on you."
Robert Johnson rolls his head around, his eyes upwards in their sockets to stare at the blinding light of the moon which has now completely filled tie pitch-black Delta night, piercing his right eye like a bolt of lightning as the midnight hour hits. He looks the big man squarely in the eyes and says, "Step back, Devil-Man, I'm going to Rosedale. I am the Blues."
The man moves to one side and says, "Go on, Robert Johnson. You the King of the Delta Blues. Go on home to Rosedale. And when you get on up in town, you get you a plate of hot tamales because you going to be needing something on your stomach where you're headed."
It is believed that all who have recorded the song have come to some kind of ill fate, including The Allman Brothers Band, Eric Clapton and Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Please check out these great sites to continue reading about the Crossroads Curse.
I think the site itself is cursed. I can't get on it half the time. If you can't, please don't give up. It's a great site with some really great links. The actual link is http://crossroads.stormloader.com/
I found this new work at home opportunity and I would love to know what anyone knows about these companies. Please leave a comment for the rest of us if you have any info. Otherwise, if you'd like to check it out here is the link and a couple of screen shots.
Norman Corwin, also called the “poet laureate of radio, celebrated his 100th birthday this month (May 3, 1910). Wow! Can you imagine all he has seen in 100 years?
He is an American writer and teacher of journalism and writing. His greatest success was achieved in the writing and directing of radio drama during the 1930s and 1940s.
Corwin has won the One World Award, two Peabody Medals, an Emmy, a Golden Globe, a duPont-Columbia Award; he was nominated for an Academy Award for Writing Adapted Screenplay for Lust for Life (1956).
A documentary film on Corwin's life, A Note of Triumph: The Golden Age of Norman Corwin won an Academy Award for Best Documentary (Short Feature) in 2006. Les Guthman's feature documentary on Mr. Corwin's career, Corwin aired on PBS in the 1990s. He was inducted into the Pacific Pioneer Broadcasters Diamond Circle in 1994.
Corwin wrote and produced over 100 programs during the golden age of radio.
If you haven't heard it, you really should listen to the 150th anniversary of the Bill of Rights, “We Hold These Truths” by Norman Corwin. Every American should hear it at least once. The dramatic show was broadcast from New York, Washington, D.C., and Hollywood, California. Performers included: Edward Arnold, Lionel Barrymore, Bob Burns, Walter Brennan, Walter Huston, Marjorie Main, Edward G. Robinson, Jimmy Stewart, Rudy Vallee, and Orson Welles, with concluding remarks by President Franklin D. Roosevelt. The music was composed by Bernard Herrman, and the national anthem was conducted by Leopold Stokowski.
I recently had the opportunity to see Lee Greenwood in concert. His voice is as strong as ever and for a 68 year old man, he certainly has some good dance moves! Maybe that's why his youngest is 11. I never would have guessed he was raised in Sacramento, California. He's married to Kim Payne, a former Miss Tennessee.
He really put on a great show, and of course, he honored the local men and women in uniform.
I found this YouTube video of Lee performing my favorite Lee Greenwood song live.
Police use 'voodoo' to win desperate battle against violent cartels
Police in Tijuana, a city just south of the US/Mexican border near San Diego, have resorted to the strange rituals, which also include animal sacrifice and spirit tattoos amid claims they are “running scared” of the savage trafficking gangs.
During the rituals, priests slaughter chickens on full moon nights on beaches and smear police with the blood while using prayers to evoke spirits to help protect them from drug cartels battling over smuggling routes into California.
"Sometimes a man needs another type of faith," said former Tijuana policeman Marcos, who left the city force a year ago after surviving a drug gang attack.
"I was saved when they killed two of my mates. I know why I didn't die." Read More
