A Reflection On January 26, 2026

A Small Grace In the spring of 2000, Julie and I left Union County for a farm near Goreville. We left behind friends whose company had shaped our days, and we left behind Sheriff Jim Nash—a man who understood that his work was not merely enforcement but service, a tending to the community as one might tend good land. Moving always brings uncertainty. We wondered what kind of place we were coming to, whether we would find neighbors who knew the old obligations, whether the county's servants would understand that their work was owed to actual people, not to abstractions. The answer came quickly, in the way such things do in small places. Julie had driven to town for the mail. When she came out, one tire was flat. She called, and I started for town, but I needn't have hurried. By the time I arrived, the Johnson County Sheriff, Elry Faulkner, had already pulled over, positioned his vehicle to shield her from the road, and changed the tire himself. This was not duty. This was neighborliness wearing a badge. It was a small thing, perhaps—one flat tire, one act of help. But small things reveal the health of a place. They show whether people still remember that we belong to one another, that our lives are woven together in ways no law can mandate but that good character makes inevitable. We knew then that we had come to a place that still remembered these things. We had come home. We need such men and women now, perhaps more than ever—officials in every county and town across this country who understand that the law is not an abstraction to be wielded but a trust to be kept, that order is not imposed by force but grows from the soil of genuine care. May those who wear the badge in our time learn the craft that Jim Nash and Elry Faulkner practiced: the patient skill of serving neighbors, the quiet competence that builds trust, the daily choice to see in every stranded motorist or frightened citizen not a case number but a fellow human being deserving of dignity and help. The health of our communities, the very possibility of living together in peace, depends on whether such servants can be found—or whether we have forgotten how to raise them up. This is not a small thing. It is everything.

The Forbes Top 10 Billionaires list has just been released. Congratulations to the honorees. Three names that appear on that list are Charles Koch (net worth $40 billion), his brother David Koch (net worth another $40 billion), and Sheldon Adelson (net worth $38 billion).

In 2010 the Supreme Court decided in the Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission case that theBipartisan Campaign Reform Act (commonly known as the McCain–Feingold Act ) violated the First Amendment. In the ruling the majority said that they were protecting my right to use as much of my net worth as I can afford to advance my political agenda. That will amount to about $100 this year. I am going to give that $100 to a candidate that cares about the needs of old retired guys living on fixed incomes.

The three billionaires listed above may also use as much of their billions as they choose to advance their political agendas. I am bothered by the fact that their political agendas and mine are often not the same. The fact that they continue to pour millions, directly and indirectly, into the campaigns of candidates that support the needs of billionaires rather than old retired guys gives me pause.

I am going to track their spending this year. By going tohttp://www.fec.gov/finance/disclosure/norindsea.shtml I will see which political action committees they support and which candidates they buy with their millions in contributions.

Father's Day 2012 in the GGA

Last Sunday was the second Father's Day without my father's.  Reflecting on the things I learned from the witness of his life I wrote the following.  I can still see him smile, and laugh out loud in parts, in hearing a reading of "Casey at the Bat", a late 19th century poem written by Ernest Lawrence Thayer  .  To honor my father's memory, and to help others better know him, I offer the following:

Johnny at The Bat

(with apologies to Ernest Lawrence Thayer)

A Father's Day 2012 Poem for Dad

By John C. Davis, Jr.
June 17, 2012

With daddy batting cleanup for the Mudville nine that day

(With Blake at second and Jimmy Flynn ninety feet away)

In the ninth, and down by two, in the season's final game

The expectations of the fans were really pretty lame.


They would rather have seen Casey  a comin ' to the bat

With all his pomp and swagger and his tippin' of his hat.

But dad just took a big cut at the first good pitch that came

And drove a liner to the gap and extended the game.


He brushed his pants, and then tipped his hat, after his safe slide

Into second, in scoring position, with the score now  tied,

And waited for the man on deck who surely drove him in,

And with him they celebrated another Mudville win.


And with these acts dad demonstrated his thoughts  'bout right and wrong:

"Don't take a strike, get on base, move other runners  along.

Never play for personal glory, life is a team game.

Always do the best you can, trust others to do the same".

First Retirement Trip

As Julie and I prepare to make our first retirement trip to Chapel Hill to see our granddaughters and our new grandson,  we are brushing up our language skills so that we might more effectively communicate with the natives.  Today's background reading is to help prepare us for our verbal interactions with our 3 year old Maggie. The following poem, by Billy Collins, we think will be most helpful. 

Child Development

by

Billy Collins

"As sure as prehistoric fish grew legs

and sauntered off the beaches into forests

working up some irregular verbs for their

first conversation, so three-year-old children

enter the phase of name-calling.

Every day a new one arrives and is added

to the repertoire. You Dumb Goopyhead,

You Big Sewerface, You Poop-on-the-Floor

(a kind of Navaho ring to that one)

they yell from knee level, their little mugs

flushed with challenge.

Nothing Samuel Johnson would bother tossing out

in a pub, but then the toddlers are not trying

to devastate some fatuous Enlightenment hack.

They are just tormenting their fellow squirts

or going after the attention of the giants

way up there with their cocktails and bad breath

talking baritone nonsense to other giants,

waiting to call them names after thanking

them for the lovely party and hearing the door close.

The mature save their hothead invective

for things: an errant hammer, tire chains,

or receding trains missed by seconds,

though they know in their adult hearts,

even as they threaten to banish Timmy to bed

for his appalling behavior,

that their bosses are Big Fatty Stupids,

their wives are Dopey Dopeheads

and that they themselves are Mr. Sillypants".

--Billy Collins

The word from Durham, NC is that future "So You Think You Can Dance" finalist Maggie Davis is breaking her first moves. "Entertainment Tonight" reports that film crews have captured "Mombo Maggie" rising from a sensual two arm creep into a slow but rhythmical crawl and capping the sequence with a full standing pull up onto anything handy.

After viewing a pirated tape of Maggie's move, SYTYCD judge Mary Murphy is reported to have said, "words can't describe the potential of this dance prodigy so I think I will just scream for a while".

Look for Maggie starring in SYTYCD 12th season.

Test Run

On the horizon is the magical place known to southern Illinoisans as the GGA, the Greater Goreville Area.

Musings that spring from the GGA (AKA God's Gift to America) are the substance of this blog.

Webster says that a musing is a "meditation; reflection; (and/or) contemplation" so watch this space for just that kind of stuff.

You should also look here for other important things like scores from games in which my grandchildren excelled.