Out. Of. Control.

I now own three perfectly good motorcycles.
I need another bike about as much as New York City needs snow.
So I gotta quit looking at bikes on EBay.

But with the near certainty of gasoline prices increasing dramatically I have been cruising there watching the price of bikes in general. I still think it's very likely that folks will be looking for ways to save on fuel prices, and many will consider buying a motorcycle rather than an econobox as a fun way to save on gas.
I'm just lookin'. There's no harm in lookin', right?
And then I saw this BMW...
A 1980 with only 30,000 miles. Always garaged. Clean as a pin. The owner listed his preventive maintenance program along with new stuff he had added to the bike. He's owned it ten years and loves it, but due to a financial setback he has to sell it. When I first took notice the bidding was at $2500. I showed it to Sara Jean...
"Honey, look at this beautiful thing! I think it's worth close to twice that price and it's only *** miles away, so we could go get it in a day."
Her response was instantaneous and at about 120 decibels...
"Are you KIDDING? A fourth motorcycle? The house needs a new roof. There are a ton of other things we actually need! "
I let that sink in for a few minutes. Of course she's right. But I KNOW this bike is worth much more than the present bid!
I thought about it some more.
The kicker was the notation "Reserve not met" beneath the present bid.
What would it hurt to bid the minimum increase just to see if I could find the reserve requirement, right? So I bid $50 over the present bid, and was immediately informed I had been overbid by someone else.
Well, it can't hurt to bid again and see if I'm overbid again, right? Right?!!
"You are the highest bidder!" read the response. "But you may be overbid. Would you care to increase your maximum bid?"
The auction would end in 18 hours. Uh - oh. What now?
I went to sleep last night wondering how I would explain myself to my loving, understanding bride.
I woke this morning and checked again...
I was STILL the high bidder.
Oh well. All I can hope for is that someone else will recognize what a wonderful deal this bike is and bid the price up shortly before the auction ends, (as often happens).

I was away from the internet most of the day and the auction occupied a little corner of my mind that entire time. When I finally was able to get online and check there was a note in my email box...
"You've been overbid".
Relief.
And when I went to EBay to check the final sale price my suspicions were confirmed:
Sale price- $4100.
I would NOT have paid that for the bike. But if I could have purchased it for something in the vicinity of $3,000-$3,500, there was money to have been made in a few months.

Still, I want to keep peace in my marriage.
I'm gonna avoid the motorcycle section at EBay for a while.

Saudi Arabia

The biggee.

Iran was a problem. Syria and Libya have, at times, been irritations.
Trouble in Egypt has our attention. Rumbles in Tunisia, Jordan, and Algeria are a concern for Westerners.
But Saudi Arabia...
That's Hillary's "3 A.M. phone call".

We live in interesting times.

Tunisia. Egypt. Jordan.

Like many of you I've watched with anxiety and interest as events unfold halfway around the world. How will things turn out there?
Who knows? (Our "smart diplomacy" folks in our State Department appear clueless.)

One thing is reasonably sure-
The price of oil next week is gonna be interesting to watch. Oil price increases mean increased transportation costs of ALL goods. Your beans and potatoes will soon cost more too.

I've been surprised lately at the price of precious metals...
After topping $31.00 an ounce a couple weeks ago the price of Silver has retreated, as has it's upper-crust brother Gold.
It'll be interesting to watch over the next weeks to see if we all should have taken a second mortgage on our house to buy precious metals during this retreat.

If you're interested, you can follow the price of commodities with me here.

The Prez Sez-

President(?) Obama is asking us all to "tone down the rhetoric".
So let's all be more civil, okay?
And should we end up warring with one another, let's try to make it a "Civil" war.

Unlawful President.com

"I am suing Obama to force the release of all records that will reveal all of his diffent (sic) citizenships. According to Obama's website he is a "native born" citizen, not a NATURAL BORN CITIZEN as required by the U.S. Constitution. Are we a nation of laws?

Attended both the Obama, Columbia treason trial in Harlem, NY, and the court martial trial of LTC Terrence Lakin. Also, was a regional campaign manager for Dr. Orly Taitz, Esq. I have an active lawsuit in California (pro se, non-attorney) suing the Secretary of State and Jerry Brown for election fraud in the 2008 general election and the 2010 primary."

Interested?
Check her site out here.
Some good stuff.

Controlled (?) Crash

{Deep sigh}.
Well, a guy could hope.
But hope don't pay the bills.

I teach people to fly.
Turning someone loose to go solo in a helicopter for the first time is an anxious, exhilarating time for both student and instructor. For the instructor it's a chance to see you've done your job well, (or at least you HOPE you have!) For the student, it's an OMG! moment...
The little R22 weighs only 1300 pounds full of fuel with two aboard, and unloading 200 pounds from the left side of the aircraft changes the feel of the machine pretty dramatically. And now the student has to fly that foreign feeling machine, knowing if anything goes wrong he'll have to resolve problems without the aid of an expert in the left seat.
By the time I kick 'em outta the nest I have normally emphasized to my student one of "Greybeard's pieces of wisdom" several times...
"If you crash this son-of-a-bitch, fly it until the wreckage comes to a
COMPLETE. DEAD. STOP."
The reasoning should be obvious.
It's better to crash with some control than to turn things loose and be along for the ride.

And that's how I now feel about what's going to happen to our country... to our economy.
I hoped it would be obvious to everyone at the controls of this enormous system that we were probably gonna have to crash, and that it would be better to have some control over that crash than to be along for the ride.
But it's obvious we are now gonna push the throttle full forward to see how thoroughly we can destroy this sucker. Some "experts" are still saying we haven't spent enough to bring us out of our doldrums.
Others are gonna kick and scream about mistreating Senior citizens or kids in school or some other "touchy-feely" thing to try to guilt those of us seeing the approaching disaster.

Once again I hope I'm wrong.
I hope it soon becomes obvious a crash under control would be FAR better than having things spiral hopelessly out of control.
Medicare, Social Security, Defense...
We're gonna have to feel some pain in all areas to minimize the damage.
Do our "leaders" have the discipline to fly the S.O.B. until the various parts come to a halt?

I really doubt it.

As Young As I'll Ever Be

Yeah.
If you're lucky enough not to die unexpectedly you may, like me, find your hearing and vision slowly headed South. I just got my first pair glasses that I'll wear sort of semi-permanently because I see better with 'em than without 'em.
My hearing? Did you ask about my hearing?
It's a joke. My wife makes fun of me in front of friends by standing behind me, talking to them in a pitch that is totally inaudible to me.
I don't mind. It's one of the hazards of an occupation that has not been "work" for me. A disability I knew would eventually catch up with me if I continued to do the job...

A job that I still love. A job that provides me with the satisfaction of knowing for almost 25 years now I have had a positive effect on many, many lives.
And another thing about my hearing...
Many peers who, like me, have been aviating 43 years are almost completely deaf.
Thanks to little yellow pieces of foam, I'm not deaf.
I can still hear the BK117 coming at least 5 seconds before Sara Jean can.

So you won't hear me complaining.
I still love my work.
Much to my surprise, I've been with the same woman over 30 years now and I'm still dumbfounded at how beautiful she is.
My friends put up with me in spite of my tendency to express strong opinions in a voice so loud my wife has to shush me.
And many of them are so loyal it brings out the John Boehner in me if I think about it hard enough.
Yes, I am blessed.

Mom, how's it feel to have a 64 year old son?

All I Know Is What I/We Like

Ever met a wine snob?
Haven't we all?
I watched the movie "Sideways" with amusement as the characters stuck their noses deep into their glasses and waxed eloquently about the differing characteristics of various glasses of Pinot Noir they tasted. I was more amused at hearing the price of Pinot Noir went up considerably after the movie started getting street talk.
We all want to catch the next popular thing...
We're such rubes!

I like wine.
I like most any wine.
Like many of my generation I started drinking wine out of bottles marked "Annie Green Springs" or "Boone's Farm". I've had my fair share of "Mogen David Cream White Concord".
I think I've even had "Thunderbird" a time or two.
Buying these wines meant you had to walk the aisle past other wines...
Cabernets. Burgundys. Rhines. Rieslings. Even the Pinot Noirs.
Out of curiosity I bought a few. I found I like some of the dry wines...
My Mom even accused me of drinking vinegar.

When I first met Sara Jean she was still in "Boone's Farm" mode and would only drink the sweet wines. I hoped she would eventually graduate to drier wines so I could find one we could enjoy equally. I waited for years...
Didn't happen.

Christmas a year ago I was gonna be on duty for a week. SJ made arrangements to go visit her family in Chicago for the holidays. When she came home I found she had developed a taste for a wine that doesn't gag me...
The wine pictured above...
Almaden's "Mountain Rhine".

I don't want to say it's cheap. Let's say it's "reasonably priced".
But I know what I like and I know what she likes. So I buy it two 5-liter boxes at a time and we enjoy a glass or two together now and then. Few stores carry it, so I have to buy it at a Supermarket along the way when I'm on my way home from "BigTown".

I stopped just before Thanksgiving to stock up for the holidays...
The slot for the product was empty.
I've stopped several times since. The tag for the wine is still there with the price listed, but for over two months now there's been no Almaden Mountain Rhine to bring home for my family.
"Reasonably priced" begins to take on new meaning when you consider all the time/trouble/gasoline I'm spending taking the exit to find an empty wine slot where the wine I want to buy SHOULD be available.

I've suggested we should try another Rhine wine. She's being resistant. That's the way she is.
But she's no snob, and I bet if I buy another she may learn to like it.
I'll keep ya posted.

The 2012 Republican Nominee

I think the Republican party needs to be served notice early, so I'm pounding the drum now-
2012 is a crucial year. The G.O.P. needs to be VERY careful about who they nominate. If they pick the right candidate they can win this election with numbers every bit as convincing as we have seen in the mid-term. If they do things as they have in years past we'll see the two-party system destroyed.
Nominating a candidate in '12 because it's "his/her turn in line" ain't gonna cut it.
And that means don't nominate:
Mitt Romney,
Mike Huckabee,
Jeb Bush,
Rudy Giuliani,
or any other comfortable, old-time Repub stalwart.

They'd better be thinking Ronald Reagan.

Oh I know... that's a mighty TALL order!
But there are a few candidates out there right now that would excite T.E.A. Partiers-
LTC Allen West.
Thaddeus McCotter.
Herman Cain.
(And with the election of either of two of the above candidates you'd get the added benefit of having the first TRUE black President in the White House, IF that's still an important ticket that needs to be punched.)

Fair warning, Republican party...
Choose carefully.
It's time for true hope and change.

Sumdood At The Door

Yeah, FlightFire thinks I'm a right-wing nut.
You may think so too. If you do, ignore the following link.
For the rest of you, a reminder from our wise old Navy friend.
And to paraphrase my comment there, "Be prepared. This sort of thing is gonna happen more and more often."

There WILL Be A Ceremony.

I MAY have just done something exceedingly stupid. Only time will tell.

The balance on our mortgage was $23,319.45. Calculator at hand, I multiplied my mortgage payment by the number of payments remaining and was somewhat shocked at the figure:
$62,400 and a little change.
So this month my check for that loan read $23,319.45. I'm sure there will be adjustments to come... escrow issues, etc., but those should be minor.
Our house no longer belongs to us, the bank, and taxing authorities.
It belongs TOTALLY to us, AND the taxing authorities.

Over the next months I'll get the answer to my question...
Would I have been better served instead to have taken that money to my silver merchant? Silver and Gold are both down a little as I write this, so it's actually a good buying opportunity. And if the bottom does fall out of the economy, the $$ I'd have used to pay the remaining loan would have been of lesser value, maybe even near-worthless.
But it's one less responsibility to worry about, and I now have a few extra disposable dollars to use monthly to buy silver, ammo, water purifiers, or whatever.

So whatd'ya think?
Smart move, or dumb,dumb,dumb?

Buggy Whips

My title refers to something you may or may not have heard before...
As the popularity of the automobile made numbers of horse-drawn carriages dwindle, one of the industries that suffered was those making buggy whips...
There was just no need for them any longer... the world had changed.
Folks making buggy whips had to find new jobs.

In the mid 1980's an acquaintance lost his job as a butcher in a small grocery. For weeks he tried to find employment to no avail. Finally he and his wife decided to take a risk...
They pooled all their savings, rented a vacant store near a busy intersection, bought a ton of movies on VCR tape, and opened a store renting movies.
It was an almost immediate success.
They worked together, both putting in more than 70 hours a week, paying themselves modest salaries, putting most of their profits into new movie releases.
Business increased to the point they bought the space next to their store and expanded their inventory. For five years their numbers increased and they did very well, but both were still putting in very long hours to insure the store's success.

Then the construction across the street started.
The sign out front said "Future location of 'Blockbuster Video'".
They struggled against the competition for a year but would have been better off financially if they had closed their shop the moment Blockbuster opened.

Buggy whips.
Lots of folks out there are in that situation now...
Their skills no longer apply in the world of today.
They can either accept that fact and get an education toward new employment opportunities, or they can sit at home and collect unemployment for two years, then try to learn a new trade when they're two years older.

Econ. 101, Soc. 101, Psy. 101...
Tell me again...
What are we REALLY rewarding these days?

Eavesdropping

I would have paid a high price to listen in on this conversation.

Bigger Is Not Necessarily Better.

That's a photo of a Harley Davidson "Sprint", the motorcycle I bought at the age of 16 when I decided it was time to graduate from motorscooters to motorcycles.
It had a single-cylinder 250cc four-stroke engine that produced about 15 horsepower.
At the time it would still out-accelerate most cars on the road because it was very light and even at 15 horsepower it probably had a higher horsepower-to-weight ratio than most family trucksters of the day.
Top speed was 85 miles per hour, me literally laying across the fuel tank with my legs stretched straight out horizontally behind to lessen wind resistance as much as possible. (Another of those things I did as a youth that makes me shake my head in amazement that I survived beyond my 18th birthday.)
You may remember my critical review of this bike from previous posts...
That is to say, it was better than having no motorcycle at all.
I didn't care what kind of gas mileage it got so I never checked. I wish I had.

For whatever reason, motorcycle manufacturers are showing renewed interest in the 250cc segment of motorcycledom. I think a few (but not all) of the reasons for this is-
Like cars, if they can get someone to buy a 250cc "Fireball", the customer is more likely to graduate to larger "Fireball" motorcycles.
More and more gals are beginning to ride. Smaller bikes with their lower seat height make this more comfortable for those of shorter stature.
Many of these 250cc street bikes get upwards of 70 miles per gallon, yet they ARE real motorcycles, not toys. They have enough power to safely travel the Interstate highway system. They can (sort of comfortably) carry two people around town and (depending on your threshold of pain), for short distances out on the highway.
They are really, really, really maneuverable and fun to ride.

If gas prices do in fact approach $5 per gallon, I think it's possible we'll begin to see lots of people taking another look at small bikes.
And when they do they'll find several manufacturers with very nice examples for sale:

Honda.
Yamaha.
Suzuki.

Blogging... A Waste of Time?

I've been trying lately to have a discussion with a left-leaning blogger who thinks they are a moderate. I've asked pointed questions and gotten the run-around. They either ignore my questions entirely or answer the questions they want to answer. (But not mine.)
It's sort of akin to going to the Doctor after hitting yourself on the forehead repeatedly with a hammer saying, "Doc, it hurts when I do this" and having him say, "Then don't do that."
I'm laying my hammer down now.
Thanks Doc.

In Columbus Ohio-

I pray there is a happy ending to this story.
If you hear anything further about him, please update us.

UPDATED:
Google is our friend.

More here.

Truly a second chance.

Just A Thought-

Two days ago I was listening to Mark Steyn, filling in for Rush Limbaugh on his show.
A caller challenged Mark, who was calling the (CFL) bulbs "Curly-Fry Lightbulbs" to quit making them sound cute...
He suggested the moniker "MFL's" or "Mercury Filled Lightbulbs".
I like that.

Glen Beck had a bit on his show demonstrating what you are supposed to do if you drop and break one of the stupid things.
"Call your local authorities for a community hazardous-waste collection point"!?
OMG.

I wonder what would happen if I cover a cookie sheet with MFL's and walk the halls of congress with them...
Think "Security" would consider me a threat?
Give me back my incandescent bulbs!

Think It Cannot Happen Here?

I think it can, and WILL.
Be prepared.

Updated-
Silver tested the waters well above $31.00/oz. today, with the closing New York Spot price at $30.69.
Gold, silver, and lead...
Are you buying?

I Don't Think That Means What You Think

"Scumbag", the Pastor said at some point in his sermon.
Ohhhhkay...
You may as well have slapped me in the face.
I'm sure "despicable person" was his intended meaning.
But I'm also pretty sure he would not have used the term at all if he knew the secondary definition.

He Gets It-

My cousin sent me the link to this video.
Several things about the video struck me-
He found a way to become a citizen the CORRECT way.
He decided to become a citizen after being impacted by those providing freedom to us all.
He's got a set of stones to be able to kid those guys the way he does without breaking into tears.
I couldn't do it.
I bet you couldn't either.
Tissue warning!
(Thanks Kathy.)

Maggie The Cat

It's another of those movies I had never watched from start to finish.
But I watched it last night.
Did Elizabeth Taylor ever look better? Wowzer!
Like a fresh strawberry shortcake with whipped cream and a cherry on top, I watched as "Brick", Paul Newman's character, parried any advance "Maggie the Cat" made on him and wondered-
Does "Brick" ever get to taste that delightful dessert?

Do you remember how the movie ends?

Blessed

Got a full belly?
I do.

It snowed most of the night and I drove home this morning in a beautiful, monochromatic world, having spent the night saying "NO" twice to calls asking me to venture out in below-minimums weather. I was reminded of the caution an old pilot relayed to me when I first started this job...
"Our customers need to be very careful of weather when they decide to get seriously hurt."
It's a 32 mile drive from workplace to home. At just after 7 A.M. I met five cars on the road in that distance, and was mindful that someone had been out with a snowplow early Christmas morning clearing that road so I could more safely drive home to my loved ones.
I am blessed.

Sara Jean and Big Bubba were both still in bed when I unlocked the door. The dogs all met me when I entered, three twelve-pounders jumping, licking, and nipping.
"Hi honey"... the sleepy voice from upstairs called down.
"Have the pups been out?"
"No."
Mr. Coffee had done his work at 0700, so I poured myself a fresh cup before inviting the three canines out into four inches of fresh snow. Low to the ground Dachshund Desi hates it and stays close to the house where the snow is thin. Lucy is more indifferent, venturing out to quickly get number one and number two taken care of. Yogi LOVES the snow... nose down like a plow, he takes off in a dead run, stopping now and then to investigate something, sniffing and snorting. When I turn to go back into the house announcing "Good doggies get TREATS!", Desi and Lucy stand at the front door waiting for me to grant them entrance. Yogi has to be further cajoled.
I stomp snow from my boots, then make my way to the treat jar to reward good pups.
We are blessed.

Coffee cup in hand, I sit in my recliner and turn on our TV which is attached to a receiver provided by Dish Network carrying more channels than anyone could have possibly imagined in my youth. I then turn on our Bose surround sound system. Having caught up on the news during my drive home I switch to channel 6004 and listen to "Traditional Holiday Music" in wonderful stereophonic fullness. My wife approaches, bends down to kiss me, covers me with a flannel wrap, then removes my boots.
I am blessed.

We chat.
Sara Jean and Big Bubba attended a friend's dinner party last evening. Sara Jean spent 6 hours in the kitchen yesterday baking cookies, then stirring chocolate and peanut butter fudge until it was a perfect consistency to take to this get-together.
I listen as she relates neighborhood goings-on. She and BB obviously had a good time socializing while I was at work last night. From this gathering she brought home more food than she took.
We are blessed.

At 0900 we woke Big Bubba and opened all our gifts... fewer this year than last, but the gifts we shared were nice and were also mostly tools and gadgets that will make our lives easier. When the wrapping paper finally stopped hitting the floor we all were wearing smiles.
We are blessed.

I napped in preparation for work tonight. SJ woke me this afternoon with a fresh cuppa. I sat up in bed and grabbed my laptop to read messages from near strangers and new and old friends via Facebook and email, wishing me and mine the happiest of holidays. And they MEAN it.
We are blessed.

"Dinner's on the table! C'mon down."
I dress and descend to a table covered with Turkey and all the normal fixin's.
Big Bubba offers a prayer of thanks for food, friends, loved ones, and warriors abroad protecting us.
"Amen" we all say.
We are blessed.

Back to work tonight, the helicopter is still in the hangar. It hasn't moved now in over 36 hours, making my preflight a pretty simple matter. We turn on "A Christmas Carol", this version starring George C. Scott. I watch as Scrooge comes to the realization that he is a fortunate soul and decides to (on his own!) provide for his less fortunate employees and neighbors. And I am once again reminded...
The world HAS changed.
Here in the U.S. at least, there is probably less hunger out there than ever before in our history.
But there ARE folks still homeless, cold, and hungry out there.

Our kitchen table at home is COVERED with food.
Our kitchen table here at work is COVERED with food.
There is SO MUCH FOOD I cannot imagine that some of it won't be wasted before being eaten.
WE ARE SO BLESSED.

Are we thankful?
Do we know how we got here, so rich we cannot imagine not having tables overloaded with food during this season?
I do.
My family does.
And my family also knows this condition may be temporary.
All the more reason to enjoy this bounty while we have it.
But this year I'm challenging myself and I'll gently challenge you too...
Look around you and find those who could use a helping hand, then offer it.

I fear we're approaching a time when we'll be spending A LOT more time taking care of one another.
And we'll still be blessed in many ways.

Give Me A FULL Helping, Please!

3000... Finally?

I can't remember the form number...
DD-175? DA-175?
It's the form the ARMY kept to show details of flight time.
During my 22 years in the U.S. ARMY and Reserve I flew various models of the Huey-
The UH-1B,C,D,H,&M, along with a little time in the AH-1G Cobra.
When my ARMY wings were put away for good and I reviewed my records I was shocked when I looked at the total UH-1 time: 2,999 hours.
Does that number really mean anything? Of course not. But it would have been nice to tell others "I have 3,000 hours in Hueys" without fudging even that tiny bit.

Today I got a note from an old mechanic friend who knows my situation-
"GB, I'm gonna be changing the TT straps on '****'s' Huey in the Spring and wondered if you'd be interested in coming down to do the track and balance and test flight?"

Ha.
He knew my reaction before he pushed the "send" key.
He also knows I'd probably PAY to watch that big rotor blade cycle overhead again.

I suspect we'll fly about an hour.
(Are you ready Terry?)

"Blinded By The Light"

The internet takes much of the fun out of trivial knowledge.
One of the things I have ALWAYS been VERY good at is remembering worthless crap.
At "Trivial Pursuit" I could (and did) individually take on groups of people and win.
Playing "trivia" is still fun in person, but is obviously impossible over the internet...
No information is secure from the search engine!

For some time, this tune was a favorite piece of trivial knowledge.
I've always liked it. Like most, I heard and enjoyed "Mannfred Mann's" version first, and because it pretty quickly becomes obvious the lyrics don't have much value to the song other than the fact that they fit into the rhythm and rhyme, it was easy to make up my own words if those coming out of the speakers weren't clear.
YEARS after the Mannfred Mann version was a hit I was listening to an "Oldies" station and heard a familiar voice singing a song I had never heard him sing. As the song progressed an alarm went off in my head...
This is a different arrangement of a song you've heard before, but WHAT IS IT?!!
I was shocked when I finally realized he was singing "Blinded By The Light".
I was doubly shocked when I found out he had written it.

Now, DON'T CHEAT!
Do you know who wrote it?
You don't even need to go searching. I've done it for ya.
The composer, singing the version of the song that had me momentarily confused, is
here.

Be honest... did you know?
(And did you notice "Deuce", as in "Deuce Coupe", is spelled wrong in the video?! So is "Adolescent".)

Time For Another Lefty To Go!

John Kerry.
Disgusting, liberal, elitist, tax-dodging, Viet Nam Veteran bashing scum.
In his January 31, 2005 "Meet The Press" interview with Tim Russert he promised he'd publicly release his miltary records so we could all know his discharge status.
That's six years ago.
Have you seen those records?
No. You haven't.
Why?

I'll tell you what I suspect and you tell me why I'm wrong...
John Kerry's military discharge was less than honorable.
There is some question as to whether that discharge was later mitigated by the odious Jimmy Carter.
I want to know.
I truly have doubts.
Like President(?) Barack Obama, is John Kerry eligible for the office he now holds?

Senator... follow up on your promise.
A.B.K...
Anyone But Kerry in 2012!

Digital Camera Screwups

It has to be gremlins at work. How else can you explain the photo/video button on my camera being pushed over to the "video" selection? I DIDN'T DO IT!
But it happens now and then, and some of the results are interesting. It's helped me decide I need to do more video.
This Spring in Destin I had a chance to take photos of a beautiful gal alongside a beautiful dog, and got a mini-video before I realized I needed to put that darned switch in the correct position. Here is the result:

Viva Mexico!

As you know, our son lived in Arizona for a couple years. I moved him to the Los Angeles Metro. area in January. Going out to visit with him there is revealing-
In both places he has lived, there are areas you can imagine you no longer live in the United States.
Not being able to speak Spanish in certain stores has become problematic.
This saturation of immigrants, whether legal or illegal, has lead me to wonder out loud,
"If they wanted to live in Mexico, why did they leave Mexico?"
And then I remember...
We stole Southern California, Arizona, Texas, New Mexico, and parts of Colorado, and they are simply taking back what is theirs.

Like much of the rest of the country, California is bankrupt, but Fornicalia affords us the benefit(?) of being at the vanguard of the meltdown, so the rest of us can watch what happens there to see what we'll be experiencing soon.
And I'm also wondering...
How different are we, the United States, from Mexico these days?
What REALLY separates us from our neighbor to the South?

With a couple exceptions, I've never had any desire to visit Mexico.
I suppose I'd enjoy visiting the Mayan ruins there, but the rest of the country? Meh.
We have beaches and resorts just as beautiful as any in Mexico, and I have no fear here of some bandido waking me in the middle of the night wanting me to empty the contents of my wallet.
Yeah, I know... that sort of event is unlikely in the "resort areas", at least right now. But the reason it's not likely is because those resort areas are paying someone to insure bandidos don't bother the tourists.

So how are we REALLY different?
Our law enforcement system is different.
Our cops are not corrupt.
Our Judges are not corrupt.
If you screw up, you have an expectation of being treated fairly within our borders.

But imagine with me please...
State economies are failing.
Local budgets will be impacted.
Police forces will be cut back, or personnel may be asked to take reductions in pay.
How do those people continue their standard of living?
How do they keep their babies fed and clothed?
Do we become like Mexico?

It's another of those scenarios you may point to in a few years and ridicule me...
"Ha Greybeard! You were such an alarmist!"
And I really hope that is the case.

For Our Amazingly Dense Leaders:

Mitigating Risks

***** Community Airport, Automated Weather Observation-
0-6-1-1 Zulu Weather-
Wind 3-0-0 at 1-3, Peak Gust 1-niner,
Visibility 1-0
Clear below 1-2 thousand
Temperature minus 1-2 Celsius,
Dew Point minus 1-7.
Altimeter 3-0-1-0.

When I left work this morning the helicopter was safely in the hangar.
It was snowing. Ceilings and visibilities were below our flying minimums and the temperature was just below freezing.
The snow stopped just as my shift started tonight but the temperature has been dropping all day. I've left the machine in the hangar and notified my dispatchers to add 10 minutes response time to any call that might come in so we can push the bird out.
That minus 12 celsius temperature converts to ten degrees fahrenheit, but the sky is clearing so that's probably not our coldest temp. of the shift.
If the telephone rings it will be decision time...
How cold is too cold?

We take this job knowing there are inherent risks and we accept those while trying our best to mitigate them. But the fact of the matter is that there are situations that could present themselves where even a successful landing after an emergency could put me, my crew, and a patient at risk...
Loss of transmission oil pressure is one of them.
The book says, "Land as soon as possible".
Under the best of circumstances I'd let my dispatchers know I was landing, relaying a set of coordinates so they could get help on the way.
But what if that landing is in a place where it's difficult for ground vehicles to reach us?
We're dressed warmly, but how comfortable will we be under those circumstances if the temperature continues to drop? And what about the patient?
Thirteen knots of wind gusting to 19 knots is gonna suck the heat out of the helicopter's living area pretty quickly.

When I made my "check-in" call to dispatch tonight I warned them-
"I won't be taking any long flights tonight due to the cold. I'll probably decline any flights longer than 30 minutes."
That restriction will keep me fairly close to towns, roads, and help if necessary.

Old pilots and bold pilots...
I'm no longer bold.

Airplanes? Neat. Helicopters? AWESOME.

Room For One More?

Almost there.
I'm getting fairly comfortable with my arsenal. If your intent is to bring harm to my family I can "reach out and touch you" from long, medium, short, and VERY SHORT distances.

I actually did something that caused me some pause a couple weeks ago...
I had two revolvers in .357 caliber, both with relatively short barrels.
I carried the one with the longer barrel in a shoulder holster when I was a Deputy flying the Bell 47 more than 30 years ago. Fellow fling-winger Dan heard I might sell one of my .357's and expressed interest. I decided to hang on to the more concealable of the two magnums and sold him my old service piece. It hurt a little to give it up, but I had just bought the Glock 26 for Sara Jean and two .357's seemed like one too many.

I have/had a "belly gun", a Freedom Arms five-shot revolver in .22 Magnum. Sara Jean saw it and it immediately became HER belly gun.
So I'm back in the market for one and will accept whatever advice you can give.

I'm considering the derringer pictured above, the Bond Arms "Snake Slayer".
It's chambered for either the .410 shot-shell or .45 Long Colt, and would serve as a good "give me time to get to my bigger handgun" piece.
Anyone have experience with them, personally or indirectly?
I might have to deal with some "snakes" soon.

Effin' "F" Key!

My son Big Bubba works in the audio-visual world. His work requires tons of bits and bytes, and he can't sit around and wait for things to happen. He therefore pretty much has to be out on the leading edge of things technical. In pursuit of the "latest and greatest" he buys a new laptop at least every couple years. I get the "hand-me-downs".

The last of these was a Dell Inspiron, on which I'm typing the note you are now reading. It has a 17 inch monitor and the most unbelievably loud, clear speakers I have ever heard on a laptop.
I love the thing, (except it's a pain when traveling).

Three months ago my fingers started catching on the F key. Now and then they'd catch solidly enough that that key would depart the keyboard. I'd curse under my breath, stop what I was doing, find the key and re-attach it by snapping it into place. About a month ago it popped off and wouldn't snap all the way home, meaning it stuck up and interfered with my fingers even more than usual. After the fourth time in one hour of chasing it down and snapping it (nearly) back in place I gave up and left it off. I'm amazed...
With it gone the keyboard looks weird, the spring and locking mechanism beneath the key are now exposed, but when I'm typing I notice absolutely NO difference!

I've begun to wonder though...
When passers-by notice my "F" key is missing, will they think I wore it out?!!
(And I guess the followup question is, did I?!!)

Home Grown Terror

Another "U.S. Citizen" arrested for an attempted terror act.
It truly is just a question of time until one of these people acts without unsuspectingly getting involved with the FBI and succeeds.
Their targets will be big crowds.
Be aware and be alert.

Places?

There is an "Inferior Cul-de-sac". Is there also a "Superior Cul-de-sac"?

Do females feel slighted because there is a "Bundle of His", but apparently there is no "Bundle of Hers"?

Inquiring minds want to know.

For The Guys-

Important scientific news you need to relay to your lady here.
You're welcome!

Drivin' 'Em Absolutely Bonkers:

Silver, Gold, and The Hunt Brothers

My first wife (wisely) left me in 1976. When she left she took almost all our community property, my dog included. Most of what she left behind required a monthly payment... mainly the house, which was at a location where neither of us wanted to live.

I moved out and was fortunate to immediately find good renters to move in.
When I finally made the decision to sell the home in 1978 the renters bought it. I found myself with $10,000 cash in my hand and the need to put that money to work.

I had been investing in Mutual Funds for years with some success and thought about adding this money to one of my funds. But the very week the 10k fell into my hands I got a tip from a friend...
"Gold is gonna explode!"

I had a trusted friend in my ARMY Reserve unit that made his living as a stock broker...
"Hey Jim, whatd'ya think about investing this money in gold?"
At the time, gold was trading in the area of $240/oz. He responded, "Gold is at near-record highs. I'd be frightened to tell you to put that money there."

Cautioned, I invested the money in CD's, which at the time were paying about 8%. I then sat back and watched as gold climbed steadily to just over $825/oz., and wished I had listened more carefully to what my gut was telling me.
Now we're sorta in a similar situation. Every other commercial on TV exhorts us to "BUY GOLD!" Watching what's happening in this economy my gut is telling me once again that is good advice, and this time I'm acting on my hunch. Gold is now at record dollar highs, but would have to reach $2300+ to reach an inflation-adjusted record high.

Some think that silver, with all its industrial uses, is actually a better play in the precious metals market. For a while today it was selling at a near-term high of $29.00/oz., but has a long way to go before it reaches an inflation adjusted high equal to its $50+ per ounce cost when Nelson and Bunker Hunt, with the help of a few Arab investors, tried to monopolize the world's silver market.

Remember when you read my words that I'm just a financial nobody, and the precious metals markets are volatile under the best of circumstances. But the price of silver is up 50% in just 13 months and most believe that price is likely to coninue going upward so long as our treasury is continuing its present course of printing greenbacks...
And they're printing a BUNCH of greenbacks right now!

High And Low

We were excited as Thanksgiving approached.
Big Bubba was coming home. And we've established a tradition...
Desi flies home with him on Thanksgiving and stays with us through Christmas so BB saves on one airfare for him and it gives us a chance to love on him for a month or so. We were looking forward to watching the "pack dynamic" that would develop in the three dogs... Desi, Lucy, and Yogi.

BB's flight home was actually on Thanksgiving day and he was working Wednesday. BB manages a warehouse in L.A. and is fortunate to be able to take Desi to work with him. The workers there and all the vendors that come and go know and love Desi, (as does anyone who meets him... he's a hugger and loves attention). Desi normally snuggles up in a blanket next to BB's desk. Big Bubba had returned from a trip to another venue with Desi alongside and had come back to his workplace, Desi leading the way back to the desk, when BB got intercepted by a distraction. When BB got to his desk, no Desi.
The door was open, so BB quickly went and looked left and right... no Desi.
Panic time. The warehouse is in an area with busy two and three lane thoroughfares on all sides.
Every worker in the warehouse was activated for the search. All were looking at the streets, hoping they wouldn't see a little black, bloody blob there.
No Desi. (And through an oversight, he was wearing no collar.)

The search continued for a couple hours before BB resigned himself to making up posters with Desi's photo...
"Lost Dog"
Reward. Call **********
And then he called us to tell us the news.

Is it stupid to invest so much love and emotion in an animal?
We were devastated.
Desi wouldn't be coming home for Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving morning BB checked his email to see if there was a response to his "Craigslist" post. Finding none, he dejectedly went to the airport alone.
It tainted the joy of his homecoming for everyone. We were overjoyed to have him here, but we knew if we were missing Desi, BB's thoughts had to be ten times what ours were.

The next few days were more of the same... joy mixed with sadness. Sara Jean had resigned herself to the fact Desi was gone. I refused to do that....
"He's wandered off before and someone found and returned him. That's gonna happen again."

Yesterday I came home from work exhausted after having flown all night. I went to sleep at 10 A.M. hoping to sleep well until about 4 P.M..
At 1 P.M. BB woke me...
"THEY FOUND DESI!!!"
I'm normally irritated by being awakened early, but obviously this was different...
"WONDERFUL!"

BB's workplace is not far from where he lives. Desi decided he was going home and actually had made it to an apartment complex enroute and was passing by as one of the tenants was leaving his apartment. The tenant called to him and Desi, gadfly that he is, immediately responded.
Desi spent the Thanksgiving holiday with this guy and had a great time...
The tenant had actually given Desi a new name in case a rightful owner didn't show up...
His new name was "Max".

Yesterday morning the tenant went for a walk in the neighborhood, saw one of BB's posters hanging on a utility pole, and called.
Of course we're rejoicing...
For two reasons...
We've got our fur-grandkid back, and...
There are still damned fine, honest people in this world.

Thank you God for an answered prayer!

Uhhh- WHAT?!!

The Honorable Sheila Jackson Lee, (D)Congresswoman from Texas:

Give Thanks, Everyone!

Cancer is an ugly thing. It used to be a sure death sentence. But more and more we're finding ways to make it go away, especially if found and treated in the early stages.
This country has Cancer. We've watched in denial as the tumor grew, and grew, and grew.

This month's "shellacking" of big spenders is an indication a majority of voters have suddenly realized the severity of the problem. The only question?
Is it too late to cure the Cancer?

Treating Cancer is painful.
Surgery. Chemotherapy. Radiation.
No matter the treatment, the patient suffers.
And sometimes, after the passage of time and considerable suffering, the patient still dies.

I love my country.
I've watched fearfully as we denied this economic Cancer was growing.
Have our eyes been opened?
Do we have the discipline to continue striving for a cure, in spite of the pain we'll suffer killing the disease?
I hope so.

Big Bubba is on his way from L.A. and will be here this evening.
We've invited two Navy Trainees to share dinner and the weekend with us. There will be lively conversation, laughter, and joy beneath our roof.
And I'm thankful we still live in a country where this can happen... a country that still produces young people willing to raise their right hands and sign that "blank check".

The election was a great first step...
Let's cure this disease. We can do it!
We still live in the best country on the face of the earth.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

A Puzzle Solved-

There are two radio-alarm clocks in our bedroom, one on each side of the bed. We actually began to wonder if they had learned to read time. At 0715 hours each morning, (plus or minus about five minutes), both dogs begin the "stare and licking game" to wake us. It was uncanny...
Were their full bladders nearly as good at keeping time as our digital clocks? We found that hard to believe, but what other answer could there be? We discussed the possibilities and came up with bupkus. We finally just shrugged our shoulders and accepted it as a fact of life...
We don't understand it, but there it is...
We don't need an alarm to wake us. The dogs do that job nearly perfectly...
Until Saturday morning.

We came home late Friday night after dining out and shopping. It had been a long day. I walked the dogs that final time of the evening, then found my wife comfortably horizontal with the bedclothes pulled up beneath her chin. The dogs joined her immediately. Two minutes later I was there too. We were all asleep within minutes.

Bright sunshine...
I checked the time on the alarm...
Eight A.M.! What the... ?
What happened to our canine alarm clocks?
And then we realized what was going on.
The riddle was solved.

When I walked the dogs Friday night, Sara Jean made a bee-line for the bed. When I came in the door she called downstairs, "Can you fix the coffee for tomorrow morning?"
And I forgot it.
The timer on the pot brews coffee at 0700. The entire brewing process takes about ten minutes until the pot makes that sputtering sound all coffee drinkers know so well. The dogs were keying on that, knowing we normally rise and shine pretty quickly after the coffee has brewed.
In effect, the coffee pot became their alarm clock. When I didn't set it for Saturday morning, they overslept.

Again I'm amazed...
How do you measure intelligence?
That seems pretty smart to me!

Exercising Motorcycles

I'll tell you what I did today, then you give me your thoughts-

It's a gusty, cloudy 72 degrees outside...
Not totally out of the ordinary for November here, but these days come few and far between.
I pushed all three bikes out of the garage onto the drive and started them all. Once they were all warmed sufficiently to run without the application of choke I left the two 'Wings idling and rode Pizza bike eight miles, including a blast down the highway to click my way through all five gears up to (ahem...), highway speed.
I brought the Guzzi back home, left it idling, mounted the '89 'Wing, and did the same thing on it.
Then while the Guzzi and newer 'Wing idled I did the same thing with the '87 Interstate. All three bikes ran/idled for 30 minutes before I shut them down and put them back under roof.

I know it is important to allow an engine to warm enough to boil moisture out of the oil, and running them for 30 minutes should also be enough to recharge drained batteries.
But is there a better way to accomplish my mission than doing it this way?

Can Do!

"You might be a redneck if... ":
Like me, you'd enjoy getting to know this guy.

Does The Job Require A Strong Stomach?

I'm never asked that question directly.
Instead, folks will say something to the effect, "I'm not sure I could do your job."
Funny...
When I started I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it either.
Me and my crews see some ghastly things.
An example:

About the time I started the job we launched late one Fall night for an accident scene. This was "back in the day" when weather reporting was MUCH sketchier than it is today, and when we got away from the heat island of the city the temperature dropped and I began to notice fog rapidly forming and spreading beneath me. I called the waiting ambulance and informed them I was aborting the flight, and asked if they wanted to drive the patient to us somewhere that fog wouldn't be a factor. They declined and said they'd just transport the patient to the nearest facility for care.

I then called my dispatch and told them we were headed home, and why.
They responded, "We have another flight for you. Can you make it to ********town? "
(This was on high ground and would be no problem.)
"Yes, we can do that. Go ahead with your report."
"Your patient is a pedestrian, struck by a car. He has severe facial trauma. Your ground contact there is Unit ****."

State troopers closed each end of the highway and allowed me to land immediately behind the ambulance. My crew walked our stretcher over while I secured the aircraft controls, then walked over to watch them work.
Ya can't prepare yourself for this...
The guy was drunk, walking home. He passed out ON THE ROADWAY, just over the crest of a hill. The vehicle that hit him may not have even seen him. It struck his face just below the eyes, destroying his nose, mouth, and jaw, and the tissue there looked exactly like the ruptured abdomen of an opossum or raccoon lying in a heavily trafficked roadway.
Conscious now, his eyes were pleading... "I can't breathe!"
My crew was frantically trying to find his airway in this mass of destroyed tissue so they could insert a breathing tube. They failed.
I watched as the life slowly drained from him.
It's the stuff of nightmares. It bothered everyone... later.

But people are gonna continue to hurt themselves in strange and wonderful ways. I've been at this job 24 years now, and I'm still amazed that our ingenious customers can find new scenarios in the "self destruction" repertoire.
And when they get hurt, someone has to have the stomach to transport them to the help they need. That's our job. Most of the time it's not too bad. But sometimes (like with kids), you have to tell yourself, "Do the job. You can cry later."

Could you do my job?
Yeah, I think most of you could.
'Cause someone has to.

Deadly Weapons

In a comment at the post below readers discuss having had nail clippers taken away from them at airport screening points so they could not be used as weapons on the flight.
Yet as others have pointed out, there is an axe on board the airplane for emergency use, and even a Bic ballpoint pen or plastic cutlery could probably be used as a deadly weapon if someone was able to file a sharp point on it.

But the discussion made me think of a story from long ago...
Over drinks one evening a female friend told a group of us at a party about the time she was home alone and heard a noise at the back of her house. The fact that her Irish Setter alerted to the noise raised her heart-rate and blood pressure. She walked toward the back door of the house, dog leading the way, and passed through her utility room where she armed herself with the closest weapon she could find... a twirler's baton.
(She taught baton-twirling professionally).
At which point I asked, "What did you intend to do... TWIRL HIM TO DEATH?!!"

I'm betting a twirler's baton is another item that would not be allowed in hand-carried luggage!

Open Note To The Airlines-

How badly do you want to stay in business?
Gauging the current furor I get the impression others feel as I do-
I WILL NOT go through TSA scanners.
I WILL NOT ALLOW TSA employees to grope my wife.

Want my business again?
GET THIS FIASCO UNDER CONTROL!

Baa-aaa-aaack Ache

I woke Wednesday morning and felt an almost electric shock as I started to roll out of bed...
Uh-oh. If I'm not really careful I'm gonna be disabled today.

I inherited the potential for back trouble from my Dad. I can remember knowing how much his back was hurting him just by watching the way he walked. I can also remember him lying on his back on our hardwood floor while my Mom would lean over him, slowly pushing his knees toward his chest in an attempt to try to stretch and straighten his vertebrae. (That exercise must have given him some relief 'cause I can remember them doing it many times.)

Thank God I don't have the kind of troubles he had. But I do get warnings from my back now and then and I've also learned what I need to do when I receive those warnings.
But Wednesday was a puzzle.
What had I done to strain my back?

And then the light bulb went off.
Monday I rode the '87 Goldwing into Bigtown. I rented the truck and loaded the bike in the back, then drove the truck home and unloaded the big bike.

Tuesday I drove several hours to pick up the '89 Goldwing. Noticeably bigger and heavier than the '87, the newer bike has "carburetor issues" and runs rough off-idle to 3000 rpm.
I had to push the heavy monster up the ramp manually. It was a scary process. Unloading the bike at home was somewhat easier... gravity did most of the work, but I still had to make sure the bike was balanced on the ramp as we backed it off the truck to its new home.

So there you have it...
Trying to "Hoss" two 800-pound motorcycles in and out of a Van exercised muscles that may have been idle for years...
Muscles I certainly had forgotten were there until Wednesday morning.

Yoga practitioners will tell you "You're as young as your back is old".
Wednesday morning reminded me I've been neglecting my body.
It's time to ease back into my old ARMY "Daily Dozen" and loosen up those muscles!

Moscow Commute

Moscow also has a "Ghostrider"?
This is just insanity.
But look at all that traffic!
The economy is obviously doing pretty well there.

Abducted

On May 23, 1966 I was forced against my will to leave my home.
I was 19, and it was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. I was rounded together with 50 or so complete strangers, pushed into a bus, and transported to a facility miles away where I was mentally, physically, and verbally abused, had my head shaved, and was forced to wear ill-fitting, ugly clothing and eat uniformly bland food.

I was a draftee, conscripted to serve in my Uncle Sam's ARMY.

Thank God we don't do that anymore.
Thank God there are enough volunteers willing to raise their right hand and put their lives on the line for us.
Thank God for all the selfless women and men who have acted as our sword and shield.
There is NO WAY to repay them for our freedoms.

But Is It Motorcycling?

I brought the (new to us) '89 Goldwing home last night in the back of a rented Penske truck.
Today I loaded Pizza bike into the truck, returned it, and rode home.
It was a glorious day. It was a GREAT ride. The bike "talks" to ya with its slight vibrations, intake howl, and exhaust note.

Shortly after I got home from returning the truck, Sara Jean came home.
She wanted to see how the newer Six-cylinder 'Wing differs from the older 4-cylinder bike. Our latest addition needed fuel, so she got aboard and we rode to top it off, giving me a chance to experience the stark differences between the Guzzi and the Goldwing.

I'm trying to come up with a comparison that tells the tale, and I think this statement comes close:
The Guzzi is a hammer.
The Goldwing is a pneumatic nailgun.

After refueling, on the way home I asked Sara Jean, "Is this actually motorcycling?"
She smiled and said "Of course".

I'm not so sure. The 'Wing is a wonderful machine.
But the Guzzi is a MOTORCYCLE!

The Beginning?

Silver at the 15 October close: $24.34.
Silver at the spot market when I checked this morning: $28.24.

You know I'm no economic expert. I just regurgitate here what my gut tells me is true...
But it seems to me that when it becomes obvious to the rest of the world how bankrupt we truly are, we're in for a wild financial roller coaster ride.
We all need to BE PREPARED!!

The "Non" Vacation?

We had high hopes.
We were going South to spend 10 days in Destin. While there we'd spend 48 hours going farther South to watch the historic (maybe last?) launch of Space Shuttle Discovery, then we'd come back to Destin, bring my Mom from Pensacola to do further Pelican studies, and as my friend Old Prairie Dog puts it... "unlax".
We were SO looking forward to the break...
In addition to her full-time job, Sara Jean has been helping care for a dying neighbor/friend.
I haven't had a true break from work since May.

But life conspired against us.
The launch was delayed one day before we could even get in the car.
Six hours into the 8 hour drive the next day we heard the news of the second launch delay.
The only true bright spot in all this is the fact that we met and LOVED Mary Lou and Dan, or new best friends from Titusville. We spent two wonderful nights with them, and their Dachshund "Buddy" was every bit the fabulous host to Lucy and Yogi that his owners were to us!
When they announced another delay in the launch schedule we gave up and returned to Destin, (and had to change a destroyed tire along the way.)

The next day I bought a replacement tire and drove to Pensacola to get Mom. We had a nice, but WAY TOO SHORT visit with her.
Saturdy morning at 0430 Sara Jean's cell phone rang.
No good news can come from a call at that hour.
Our friend Norma had finally lost her battle. That news weighed, (and weighs) heavily on us.

Ten days that surely didn't turn out as we wanted.
We're home safely, but...
We need another vacation.

Oops, I Did It Again!

There are two motorcycles in our garage... the Pizza Bike, and the '87 Goldwing.
Both are beautiful pieces of machinery, in much better-than-average shape and relatively low mileage. I bought the Guzzi before I realized Sara Jean would not be comfortable as a passenger on it. The Goldwing put a smile on her face and showed me what it was gonna take to fulfill my wish... to have her behind me on the bike sharing neat experiences.

It also opened my eyes to a few other things...
It's VERY heavy and difficult to maneuver at slow speed. You REALLY have to be careful maneuvering it into tight spots... like parking it in the garage.
It needs a reverse gear.
Newer 'Wings have a reverse gear.
So I just bought an '89 with reverse gear.

In addition to the reverse gear the new bike has two more cylinders and 300 more cc's.
It has a CB radio and an intercom system.
It has a stereo system that includes speakers in the rear armrests so SJ will hear better.

I'm working on details to bring the bike home as I write this. But I also know this:
I don't need two of the things!
Anyone interested in a perfectly serviceable 1987 Honda Goldwing in excellent condition?
Call me at BR 549.

Dateline: Titusville, Florida, 4 November 2010

Yeah, the best laid plans...
We intended to come to Titusville Sunday night to view the Monday launch with newly-met friends. Tracking down and fixing a fuel leak canceled the launch Monday and the launch was rescheduled for Wednesday. We started driving South from Destin Tuesday morning to be rested for that Wednesday afternoon launch after spending the night with friends we have met here in Titusville via the internet. Six hours into that drive we heard the news the Wednesday launch had also been scrubbed due to electrical glitches.
No matter... that just gave us more time to get to know our new friends better.

I was introduced to Mary Lou by another virtual friend, Andrea Shea King. The world of helicopters is a small one. Mary Lou's brother Herb was killed while on a mission flying a helicopter gunship in November of 1969. Herb's unit was based at the South end of Chu Lai, the same base where I served my tour in Viet Nam. One of my close friends and flight-school buddy, Vic, was in Herb's unit and knew him well. Communicating with Mary Lou via email, I knew pretty much what to expect before she opened her door to welcome us into her beautiful home Tuesday evening.

We've had a great visit. I hope Mary Lou will be able to say the therapy she received from our visit was as healing as what I have felt while being here sharing memories and talking about mutual friends.

We took advantage of the day yesterday to go to Kennedy Space Center and walk around the museum there. If you are in this area and are interested in the Space program I heartily recommend the museum... you can easily spend an entire day there soaking up all the exhibits.

We went to bed last night expecting the launch to take place today (Thursday) at 1529 hours. This morning dawned gray and rainy and the forecast stinks, so they've scrubbed the launch once again and scheduled it for tomorrow.
We've run out of time. We'll be returning to Destin today, disappointed.

But we've gained wonderful new friends who have invited us to come back down for another try.
We'll certainly consider a drive down in the future for what may be, (please Lord, let our leaders realize what a mistake this is!), the last shuttle launch, in 2011.
Are we, as a country, really gonna do this?
We've been the world leader in Space exploration. Will we hand the baton to the Russians and Chinese with a smile?
I hope not.
If you agree, it's time to let your new Congress hear your thoughts!

Liars. Cheaters.

We caught 'em lying about George Bush's National Guard record.
We've marveled in their bias ever since.
Now a media outlet in Alaska (CBS AGAIN!!) tries to lie/cheat about Republican Senate Candidate Joe Miller.

In Delaware, a TV station conveniently "forgets" to run Republican Christine O'Donnell's political spots.
These people are despicable.
They are nasty.
Would you want them for your next-door-neighbor?
Why would you want to vote for them?