The Old Colonel Bids You Farewell!

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There’s a picture of Bearself’s " real Colonel’s" wife on the obit page. Doesn’t look that much like the lady in the avatar, except both are blonde.
 
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Definitely an altered picture.
 
Well, I hope he is playing us. We’ll scold him and then forgive him, yes?
 
Of course! :grinning_face_with_smiling_eyes: I enjoy the mental exercise!
 
That sounds good. As long as it’s a good scolding for scaring us! 😆😜

What should his penance be? 🤔
 
Looks like this is the original image of a centenarian named Erwin Hauseler, if you scroll through the article you will see it


Well it’s not uncommon to use an internet photo as an avatar on an online forum but photoshopping it in a goodbye is strange. Some well meaning folks may not realize that certain actions, while creative, are odd to say the least so i’m hoping one day he’ll hop back on in here and help us understand.
 
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We all suffer those!! 🤣

Maybe some time alone with you on a desert island? 🏝️
 
And my gifs!
I think he liked (likes) this one?-(Please Note: This uploaded content is no longer available.)
 
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You could hone your preaching skills on his ears till they have a sharp edge.

Then come back and impress us! 😇
 
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How funny that we found the source of goodcatholic’s avatar…I was hoping that was actually him but it seemed too professional a quality.
 
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The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
 
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