While Supplies Last!

On the radio this morning I heard Home Depot has a sale on "Large" 32-ounce bottles of "Windex".
What do I do if I want the "Small" 32-ounce bottle?

"A Republic Madam, If You Can Keep It"

Do you cringe when you hear someone refer to the United States as a "Democracy"?
I do.
We are NOT a democracy.
We ARE a Representative Republic.
We elect "Representatives" to vote the wishes of the people they represent. At least that's the way it's supposed to work.
It's not a perfect form of governance, but to paraphrase Winston Churchill, all the others are less perfect.

But look what has happened:
Not only are our elected representatives apparently ignoring the wishes of the majority of their constituents, they are now trying to find a way to fraudulently pass a bill into law WITHOUT EVEN VOTING ON IT.
Representative Republic?
Not anymore. What the hell is this? I can no longer recognize my governing body, 'cause it sure as hell ain't a "Representative Republic"!

I'm angry.
Everyone I know is angry.
Do our "Representatives" have any idea just how angry we are?
WHO IN THIS GOVERNMENT IS "REPRESENTING" ME?!!

I am fearful of the things I am seeing and hearing, but I want someone... anyone to hear this:
If you attempt to pass this bill with a sleight-of-hand move like the "Slaughter Solution" or some other underhanded method, I'm truly afraid of what will happen to you. (And me.)
And to those of you so afraid of your constituents that you won't even attend Town Hall meetings...
The reason you're afraid is because you know you are no longer "representing" the majority.

Benjamin Franklin answered the question, "A Republic Madam, if you can keep it."
We've lost it.
Now the question is, can we get it back?

Toyota Feeding Frenzy

So you did something stupid and wrecked your Toyota.
But really... think!
The gas pedal stuck wide-open, then the brakes failed, didn't they?
Yeah! That's the ticket!
Call your attorney.

Cabela's... Slow To Learn?

Over the weekend I received this email from Cabela's:

Dear Customer,
 
Unfortunately, your backordered merchandise listed below
has yet to arrive from our supplier.
 
21-6955   WINCHESTER 45ACP 230GR FMJ AMMO W/DRY BOX 45ACP
230GR FMJ600BX Backorder-Tentative arrival to Cabelas 05/15/10
 
If you wish to keep the item(s) on backorder or if you want
to cancel or change the item(s), please contact us via e-mail
customer.service@cabelas.com or via Phone 1-800-237-4444.
 
If a reply is not received within 10 days, the item will be
automatically cancelled.  Please note that backorders are
processed immediately upon receipt of stock from our suppliers
and therefore it is possible that the item(s) in question may
ship prior to receiving your reply.

I like Cabela's, but this is more than a little irritating-
We all KNOW there are a ton of guns being sold to a terrified
public. We all KNOW there is an ammunition shortage because
everyone who has a gun is trying desperately to get a
"comfortable" amount of ammunition for EVERY piece in their 
inventory. I placed this order for .45 ACP because
I WANT THE AMMO. I accept the fact  that it may take a while
to arrive. I DO NOT WANT TO GO TO THE BACK OF THE LINE and 
start this process all over again because I forgot to call
you within ten days of your email! 

Cabela's, take note:
This is the sort of behavior that pisses people off enough to
go to another supplier.
Get your head out of your butt. 

Whatever Happened To Dan Rostenkowski?

Borrowed from Instapundit.

Choose Carefully, Mr. Congressman

Today I did something I've never done before-
Sara Jean needed her hair highlighted. She has that done in a town 40 minutes away. I dropped her at the Salon, then realized I had a chance to affect all our lives...
I drove to the regional office of my U.S. Congressman in this town and asked his intermediary there to relay a message for me about health care reform.
To say the least, it was an interesting experience.

His regional office is in a Federal Building, co-located with other Federal functions like the Social Security Administration. Since Oklahoma City, security at these places is, as you might imagine, tight. I had to ring a buzzer and stand before a security camera before anyone would come find out what business I had with the Congressman. A lady came to the door and opened it but stood in such a way that I couldn't walk in. She said, "I'm talking with another constituent and I'll be back in a moment. Can you tell me what you need?"
"I want the Congressman to know how I feel about his vote on the health care reform bill."
"I'll be back in just a moment." And the door closed behind her.

She returned five minutes later with a pre-printed form. She asked for and filled in my name and address. She then said "Pro, or Con?"

"I have voted for this man every two years since 1988. I'm tired of this country rewarding failure. We are on a runaway train, and economic disaster is just around the corner. Tell him if he votes for this bill, he's gonna get hurt."
She quickly checked a block on the form, said "Thank You", and once again disappeared behind the door.

My Congressman is listed as "undecided". I think he'll eventually vote "no". I have met him personally and hope I haven't misjudged him.
The next two weeks will tell the tale.

Yogi's Vet. Visit

Why would anyone schedule an appointment with anyone at 0830 hours? And on Monday! I certainly wouldn't. I barely had time to grab my first cuppa going out the door, which was interesting 'cause my other hand was occupied with a squirming Yogi. The Veterinarian's office is all the way on the other side of town, so I was out the door at 0820 and still made it in time to finish my coffee before going into the exam room.

We inherited the appointment time when we inherited the pup.
I could have changed the time, but walking in with Yogi at his appointed time meant his paperwork would likely be there waiting on him. Since we would have to deal with an "ownership change" this morning, I figured it would be less confusing to keep the appointment.

Yogi's not yet old enough to realize he needs to get the shivers when we walk into the Vet's office. He was his normal self, all curious and wiggles. The Vet's assistant weighed him and asked about the diarrhea problem. I told her I thought it was under control and asked for a reminder about what a puppy's stool should look like. She agreed from my description that his stool was probably normal. The scale indicated he now weighs 5 pounds 7 ounces... an increase of 7 ounces since his last visit. We're on the right track.

The Vet came in and did a good exam... joints, extremities, eyes, ears... all normal.
We discussed starting him on his heartworm medication... he's old enough to start now. Yogi got a booster shot... DPHD? Then he got his Rabies shot. He yelped and struggled a little at both, and will probably know to get a good case of the shivers the next time we get within a block of the Vet's office.

I mentioned I had read an article about neutering at a very young age. The Vet said it's a good idea to do it around 5-6 months, before the pup reaches puberty. This virtually eliminates the tendency of male dogs to mark their territory.
We scheduled Yogi's neutering procedure for next month, just before he turns six months of age.

We were alone when we got back out into the main room of the office, so I set Yogi on the floor. He immediately scampered over into one corner and proceeded to give the Vet a stool sample... a REALLY good one! When the assistant came back I asked for towels to clean it up and she said "Oh no, this happens all the time. I'll take care of it." And when she came back she had the Doc in tow... he looked at the sample and declared it perfectly normal before she toweled it up and then mopped that section of the floor. Then she gave me Yogi's Rabies tag and the associated paperwork. Then came the bill. It was less than I had imagined it would be. Yay!

So we have a delightful perfectly healthy puppy who is now gaining weight. He has completed all his puppy shots. We're scheduled to take care of that "Macho" thing next month.

All is well with Lucy, AND Yogi.

Greetings From The Census People!

"Dear Resident:

About one week from now, you will receive a 2010 Census form in the mail. When you receive your form, please fill it out and mail it in promptly."

Couldn't they also have sent me a letter to warn me the letter to warn me that the census form would soon be arriving? Certainly this is one way to "save" a bunch of jobs, but at what cost?
One sheet of paper. One envelope. The cost for the mail carrier to deliver it...
Gosh, now I can hardly wait for that 2010 Census form to arrive...
It's like Christmas in March!

19% Approval Rating

Cue the shower scene music from "Psycho".
(Madame Speaker image borrowed from "The Drudge Report")

The DD214

Ole Prairie Dog sent me this link, and I thought since it might be useful to several reader-Veterans I'll share it here. I have several copies of my DD214 so I don't need it and haven't tried it to see how difficult the procedure is, so you're on your own. If you use it, please come back and comment on your experience.

Now, tell me this...
How can I use it to have a look at the document Senator John Kerry promised to make public a hundred years ago?
Integrity? Transparency?
B.S.!

Puppy Poopy

We're about to start our second week with our new Malti-poo "Yogi".
I think his diarrhea problem is almost gone... I say "I think" because I'm having difficulty remembering how solid most puppy's poopy is. Isn't it normally kinda semi-solid anyway? If so, we're back to normalcy with Yogi... his poop now comes out in a long, semi-solid string. I'd fill you in on all the details, but this post is gonna be scatalogical enough as it is.
(Blogger thinks "scatalogical" is misspelled!)

Having more than one dog in the house complicates training.
This morning we found "number two" remains beneath the dining room table. We "Dog-sat" a friend's Schnauzer yesterday, so for a few hours we had three dogs in the house. (Yogi's antics made the Schnauzer glad when time to leave rolled around.) This Schnauzer is sneaky. She can find a hiding spot and take a quick poopy faster than Sara Jean can make me feel guilty about being a "MAN"!
So if you don't catch 'em in the act, it's not fair to punish 'em. Whoever left this deposit gets a "get outta jail free" card.

Yogi is doing much, much better. His appetite is good. He sleeps on his back with his legs splayed out... and I've heard this is an indication of total security. Still, we're watching him in shifts...
I keep an eye out most of the daylight hours, Sara Jean watches him at night. It works.

He's a good little traveler... both he and Lucy went shopping with us last night, and after each of our three stops we snuck up on the car to find Yogi asleep in the driver's seat.
Attached to him you ask?
Nah, not me!
I sent the "Milk Bone Free Dog Tag" offer off in the mail today. [Free, with two proofs of purchase and $1.95 for shipping and handling.]
Now there can be no further discussion... "Yogi" it is!
Stay tuned for the next installment in "The Mis-Adventures(?) of Yogi"
(And I promise not to go into my choice of colors for this post!)

Stolen Valor?

Just a quicky post that I may update with more detail later...
When I helped move Big Bubba to California, one of his co-workers, "Chuck", helped us unload the moving van. Chuck claimed to be a Marine Veteran of Desert Storm, medically discharged due to a blown knee. (But his knee didn't seem to bother him as we unloaded the van.)
He was aware of my service and as Vets always do, we chatted and laughed about shared military experiences. Nice guy. Likeable. We spent three or so hours of hard work unloading and organizing Big Bubba's household goods.

The next night we took Chuck out to eat Mexican to thank him... even allowed him to choose the restaurant. He chose well... the food was good. But when we sat down to eat I noticed a military ribbon on his left collar... the Silver Star.
As always in these situations, alarm bells went off. I always find myself not wanting to know someone is a lying, deceptive coward, so in most cases I don't ask for details about awards. He didn't volunteer.

Now Big Bubba and other workers at his new employer have done some investigating. So far, their search to verify Chuck's award have turned up Bupkus. My alarm bells seem to have been valid.

Is there a place we can go to see who has been awarded something as prestigious as the Silver Star? I have never before had reason to pursue such a search, but being exposed to this possible poseur shows that I need to be able to investigate this sort of personality before I invest any trust in them.

I'll start pokin' around to find what I can, but any help with links to sites referencing the major awards would be appreciated.

UPDATED:
I found this site referencing Silver Star recipients. If I'm reading it right, there were only 9 Silver Stars awarded during the Persian Gulf conflict. Take a look and see if you think that's correct.
"Chuck's" name ain't on the list.
If there were just nine awards, why would he take the risk of being so easily exposed as a fraud?
How does anyone trust anything someone like this says after finding such a character flaw?
Sad.

Bathing With A Drowned Rat

Get away from it for a while and you forget what a FULL-TIME job it is, raising a puppy. When he's awake he's full of spit and vinegar, chewing on Lucy's ears, chewing on anything he can get his muzzle on, exploring this "new world" he now finds himself in. We have had success in the past limiting the amount of chewing on unauthorized things by having "Cheweez" distributed all around the house and making sure he has one near whenever he decides to come to a stop. We have lots of rawhide chews and one Nylabone. He likes the rawhides, but only shows interest in the Nylabone when I hold it for him. Dogs are just like people when it comes to stuff like that...
A pedigreed Schnauzer we regularly dog-sit loves that stupid Nylabone and has both ends of it almost completely chewed off, but neither Lucy or Yogi seem to have much interest in it at all.

HOUSETRAINING!
I use the tried and true method my parents used.
It worked for all the dogs and cats we had when I was growing up, and it has worked for every animal I've owned since.
If you can catch them in the act of peeing or pooping, you immediately grab them up, shout NO!!, rub their nose in whatever it is they've exhausted onto the floor, and escort them outside while saying the words you want them to associate with going outside to do their business. We use "Go potty, OUTSIDE!" We gently set them down outside and hope they still have something more to "exhaust". If they do, it's time for great praise... "Oh... WHAT A GOOD BOY! SUCH A GOOD BOY!" This praise is normally met with not just a tail-wag, but a wag of about 1/4 of the rear of the dog.
If we have success with "Go potty, OUTSIDE!", we always have a treat waiting when we come back indoors... either a piece of these new "Pupperoni's", which all dogs seem to absolutely love, or a Milk Bone of some variety. (I bought two boxes of different "Milk Bone" treats this week because with two "proofs of purchase" I can send off for a free ID tag for Yogi's collar.)

So I know this housetraining method works, but there's an eventual problem with it:
The four-legged student pretty quickly begins to have a snoot that smells like "Go potty, OUTSIDE!" This is particularly noticeable when Yogi is trying to do what puppies always do... get as close to your face as is possible and slather me or Sara Jean with kisses. Uck.

So it's bath time. I have a method that works for me here, too.
I bathe him, then hand the finished product to Sara Jean for drying/brushing, and then wash "Go potty, OUTSIDE!" off me. I use a healthy amount of baby shampoo for his head, so as not to irritate his eyes. On his body I use what his "Poppy" uses... regular old "Zest" soap. It lathers well. It's mild enough that we've never had a skin problem on any dog we've owned, and of course... important for me... IT'S CHEAP.

I scrubbed his head down with the baby shampoo. He doesn't like that very much. Then I lather the rest of his body up with the Zest. You can see the puzzled look on his face as I scratch/massage his body with all those suds...
"I'm I supposed to hate this bath, 'cause this actually feels pretty wonderful!"

In this shower we have one of those shower heads on a flexible hose, so the dog-wash process is accomplished with me sitting, Yogi between my legs, in the tub. I hose him down good to remove all the shampoo/soap, then yell for "Mom" to come grab the sparkling clean subject of my attention and towel dry/blow dry him while I lather my own body up. By the time I'm done showering, Yogi and Lucy are doing hot laps between the living room and kitchen. Obviously, getting a bath isn't TOO terrible.

I feel pretty good too, and wish I had the energy to join them in their hot laps.

Malty-Poo... MaltiPoo... Whatever.

Life's weird.
Good, but weird.
At first I didn't even see him, he was so small. When she came in the door I could tell she had something in her arms but it didn't register that what she was holding was alive until she set him on the floor. He saw me and came running. When I picked him up he was all wiggles and squirm, stubby tail goin' 110 miles an hour, licking my chin and neck with that every-now-and-then nip the way puppies sometimes do.

"Who's this?", I asked, smiling.
"Lucy's little brother... Maybe."
"Maybe? Whattya mean?"
"I wanted to make sure it was okay with you."

I was gonna wait and post this after I had gotten an actual photo of him but there's no need for that. The picture above is an internet grab, but it may as well be HIM!
Four months old. Five pounds.
They named him "Yogi", but Sara Jean doesn't like that, so we're considering changing it. (I kinda like it, and he perks up when I call him, so I'm gonna lobby to keep it.)

A friend's daughter bought him from a pet store when she was feeling down. She brought him home and her husband literally threw a fit... he felt they didn't have the time to raise a puppy. The shouting apparently got worse when Yogi got diarrhea.
The diarrhea got worse as the shouting got louder.

The friend's daughter brought Yogi home to Mom... "Can you take him?"
Mom raises miniature Dachshunds. We've bought two puppies from her... you may remember Frankie, and Desi.
She has 8 miniature Dachshunds in her home and decided she didn't need to add a MaltiPoo to the mix. She thought of us and called Sara Jean...
"He's a cutie, but there's this diarrhea problem. Are you interested in him?"
Sara Jean said, "I'll have to ask Greybeard", but she already knew the answer.

We've had him two days now. With less stress in his life, a mile "walkees" yesterday and a mile-and-a-half today, with proper food going into his belly, the "problem" is going away.
I'm amazed with his temperament... on my lap he almost immediately goes to sleep. (I expected him to be nervous and a handful.) Lucy is in a bit of a snit...
Don't ask me how she knew, but she realized immediately that Yogi wasn't just a visitor... that this little ear-pulling bundle of energy was gonna be a permanent addition to our household.
But she already is showing some interest in him... She'll come around eventually.

Our biggest problem now?
We have friends who LOVE having Lucy come over for a week or so when we travel to visit Big Bubba...
She is no trouble at all, a joy to have around. But two dogs? That's expecting a lot, isn't it? (And at this point we obviously have no idea what sort of personality he's gonna have as he matures.)

He's a little dog, but he's gonna bring big changes in our life.

Maybe we'll be doing a lot more traveling by car.

Big Numbers and The Problem of Understanding.

The engines were crap.
It was 1990 and I had just started flying the BK117.
It had two Lycoming LTS101 engines. The manufacturer of the aircraft actually printed a piece of propaganda showing how two engines are safer than one...
The problem with that was that there was another statistic known by most helicopter pilots...
The Bell 206 series... the Bell JetRanger/LongRanger, was statistically the safest aircraft flying.
Not the safest helicopter flying...
Per hour flown, the safest AIRCRAFT flying. And it had only ONE engine.


It's hard to tout the "twin engine safety" of the machine you're selling when the engines are literally "exploding" with frequent regularity. Those of us flying BK117's had heard the news of the beautiful
Bell 222, the same machine that was used in the television series "Airwolf", that had one Lycoming LTS101 disintegrate, sending debris through the engine compartment at a high enough velocity to destroy the Lycoming on the other side...
And when was an engine most likely to quit producing power?
When you were demanding it produce as much power as it possibly could... out of a tight Landing Zone, for instance. And like a twin-engine airplane, there is a speed at which the helicopter can fly on one engine... a little over 50 knots for the BK117. If one gave out below that speed the helicopter was coming back to the ground. So it was important to pick your place to have an emergency carefully.
"Twin-Engine Safety"? With these engines, that was sort of a cruel joke.

We had two of these machines. For a time, they were co-located because management felt centralizing them would mean cost-savings if mechanics didn't have to drive long distances to maintain them. The pilot working the same shift as me was an interesting character...
He was a Juris Doctor. He had gone to law school, passed the bar, and started practicing law.
He hated the job. Hated it so much he volunteered to become an ARMY helicopter pilot at the height of the Viet Nam war. Returning from his tour in Viet Nam he went back to school and got a Doctorate in history. He was intelligent, engaging, and interesting.

We shared the "Pilot's Quarters" where there were two single beds. One late night we were discussing the "Twin-Engine Safety" issue and "John" mentioned the fact the problem with the BK117 could be resolved by simply replacing the Lycoming engines with a similar Turbomeca engine... that one of these Turbomeca engines had been tested for "one million hours" without a failure.
I was skeptical. "Are you sure of that number, John?"
"Yep. All they'd have to do to fix the problem with the BK is put on Turbomecas."

I got out of bed, turned on the light, and got a calculator.
"Let's see now... 24 X 365 means there are 8,760 hours in a year.
One million hours would equal 114 years. So you're telling me there is a Turbomeca engine that ran for 114 years without a failure? They started running this engine back in the late 1800's?"
Oops.

A million is a huge number.
A Billion is one thousand million.
A Trillion is one thousand billion.

The Obama administration just added about $10 Trillion in debt to our deficit projections ten years from now. That works out to an additional $30,000 of debt for every man, woman, and child presently in the United States.

My friend the Juris Doctor/History P.H.D. had trouble understanding the number ONE MILLION...
NO ONE can really understand TEN TRILLION.
And that's why our economy is on a runaway train.

Against The Law!

Regarding yesterday's shooting at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C....
Didn't the shooter know it's AGAINST THE LAW to have a gun there?
What can we do to better educate citizens so they know when they go on a rampage like this, they do it where guns are legal?

Lucky Lindy

The first person to cross the Atlantic SOLO, NON-STOP in an aircraft. The video is pieced together from archived photos from several sources, many of which I had never seen. The text also reveals some facts I didn't know.
In four parts, if you have an interest in aviation and history, go here and start by clicking "Part 1".

Frownie Faces

Checklists.
I know it's partly because I've lost a ton of brain cells and thinking is not quite so quick/efficient as it once was, but I can't help but feel some of it is because there is more going on in my life than ever... more to try to schedule, compartmentalize, and remember. I have found myself, more and more, forgetting to do something relatively important. So I make myself notes... little checklists, to try and avoid slapping my palm against my forehead while exclaiming "Dog-gonit, I forgot that!"

Today's checklist says-
Coffee
Milk
Eggs
Green Beans
Frozen Broccoli
Frozen Cauliflower
Bananas
Apples
Yogurt
Margarita Mix

Our Wal-Mart SuperCenter is all the way across town-
Three stop signs and two traffic lights away, even during "rush hour" it takes all of five minutes to drive there. Lucy likes to go "Bye-bye in the car", and stands on my lap looking out the driver's side window, navigating. It's chilly but not cold, so she can curl up in her "Blankey" the short time I'll be shopping.
I park, grab a lonely looking shopping cart sitting by itself near my parking space, and start my walk into the store.

On these outings I've begun my own un-scientific study:
On the way to the front door I take a deep breath, stand up straight as I can, put a smile on my face, and start watching others.
As I said, it's a chilly day, overcast, with a slight breeze making it actually feel colder than the temperature. Still, Spring is just around the corner isn't it? Isn't that reason enough to celebrate?

But all I see are frowns. Who knows what is going on in the lives of others, but surely not all these frowns indicate serious trouble in the lives of those wearing them, right? Maybe I'm mis-reading the faces... maybe what I'm seeing is determination. Or maybe that serious look is because the wearer is contemplating their own "internal checklist"? I try to smile and say "Hello" to all who make eye contact with me. Some respond with "Hello" in return. Many simply nod. Now and then I'll run into someone I know, and only then will faces break into smiles.

Try it yourself and see if you get the same results.
Life's too short to walk around with a continual frown.
It's almost Spring...
Let's plant a few smiles and see if we can get a good crop of 'em growing!

Margaret Thatcher-

"The problem with Socialism is, you eventually run out of other people's money."

Can ya lend me $20 'til my neighbor gets back to work and pays me the Twenty he owes me?

To My Liberal Reader-

Yes, I capitulated long ago...
You're SO much smarter than me.
I admit your superiority in being able to see much farther down the road, so as to avoid the catastrophes into which our country finds itself presently entangled.
And yes, you're also morally superior...
I now realize my "Teach a man to fish" thinking is SO yesterday!

But please, humor me...
Why is it you choose to email me your comments rather than leave them for ALL to see here at "Pitchpull"?
When you questioned my knowledge about energy use and I responded, then asked about your lifestyle and energy use, why didn't you respond?
When you questioned my knowledge about the physics involved in flying helicopters and I responded with a factual article backing up my position, why didn't you respond?

Am I so ignorant I'm worthy only of your contempt?
I feel SO ashamed!