Condor 63
Since Feb 18, 2005

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The man who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.
- William Faulkner

Click to the Alabama GOP - We Dare Defend Our Rights

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USS Alabama Battleship Park




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School supplies for the Iraqi children

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Annin & Company
AMERICAN FLAGS MADE IN AMERICA

Primo grills are the ONLY ceramic grills made in the USA
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- My Favorite Teams -

The University of Alabama

NCAA Football National Champions

1925 * 1926 * 1930 * 1934 * 1941 * 1961 * 1964

1965 * 1973 * 1978 * 1979 * 1992 * 2009 * 2011

* 2012 *

NCAA Women's Gymnastics National Champions

1988 * 1991 * 1996 * 2002 * 2010 * 2011

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Southern Association Champions

1906 * 1912 * 1914 * 1928 * 1929 * 1931 * 1948 * 1951 * 1958

Southern League Champions

1983 * 1987 * 1989 * 1993 * 2002 * 2013

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2010 Super Bowl XLIV Champions


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When the eagles are silent, the parrots begin to jabber. - Sir Winston Churchill
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People in Hollywood will hem and haw playin' all kinds of cute little games, and then you'll finally realize they want something from you.

And eventually you'll have to ask, "You want something from me, don't you?"

- Steve McQueen


from The Old Man and the Sea

He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish. In the first forty days a boy had been with him. But after forty days without a fish the boy's parents had told him that the old man was now definitely and finally salao, which is the worst form of unlucky, and the boy had gone at their orders in another boat which caught three good fish the first week. It made the boy sad to see the old man come in each day with his skiff empty and he always went down to help him carry either the coiled lines or the gaff and harpoon and the sail that was furled around the mast. The sail was patched with flour sacks and, furled, it looked like the flag of permanent defeat.

The old man was thin and gaunt with deep wrinkles in the back of his neck. The brown blotches of the benevolent skin cancer the sun brings from its reflection on the tropic sea were on his cheeks. The blotches ran well down the sides of his face and his hands had the deep-creased scars from handling heavy fish on the cords. But none of these scars were fresh. They were as old as erosions in a fishless desert.

Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.

"Santiago," the boy said to him as they climbed the bank from where the skiff was hauled up. "I could go with you again. We've made some money."

The old man had taught the boy to fish and the boy loved him.

"No," the old man said. "You're with a lucky boat. Stay with them."

Copyright © 1952 by Ernest Hemingway

Copyright renewed © 1980 by Mary Hemingway