"The Bob" complains I don't write enough about flying. And he's entitled to his opinion about how I should manage MY posts on MY blog. I've taken his complaints under consideration and will consult with the owner of the blog about how to proceed. I think the owner and I can come to an immediate consensus. Comforting.
Still, if The Bob would like more flying posts, maybe others feel the same way.
So I drove 90 minutes to the airport yesterday knowing I had nothing scheduled, but hoping once I got there someone would say "Hey GB, c'mon, let's go fly", and I'd have blogging material to satisfy The Bob and others.
I love bein' an airport bum. I wish there was a way to make an income being an airport bum... (Maybe Bozama needs another Czar?)
Even if it only paid minimum wage I'd sign up tomorrow!
Pilots are all interesting folks. All have a zest for life... all spent some discretionary income to learn to fly. All are willing to take the additional risk required by strapping yourself into a small machine and pushing away from Mother Earth.
Some pilots are big risk takers, some are not. Pilots can spot the risk takers amongst our ranks in pretty short order. The old saw "There are OLD pilots and BOLD pilots, but no OLD, BOLD pilots" holds true, so those of us who are not "bold" pilots enjoy being around the bold guys while we can, hoping when they kill themselves they don't carry others with them into the "smoking hole". But all pilots have colorful stories...
Get a pilot started talking and you'll be entertained and educated at the same time.
I'm never bored at the airport. I arrived at the hangar to find Frank and Dr. H. chatting. Both Frank and Dr. H. are former helicopter students of mine. Frank is now a commercial pilot/CFI and owns his own R44, which I am blessed to have easy access to.
Dr. H. is a plastic surgeon. In addition to flying helicopters, he's also a fixed-winger and a glider pilot/instructor. He's also an amateur magician.
We chat about health care reform. We chat about Frank's recent trip to Costa Rica. Interesting stuff.
Dr. H. leaves... he has to go give someone a flight physical.
I walk across the taxiway to Mark's hangar. Mark also owns an R44 and my former student Frank was his primary helicopter instructor. I've also given Mark a little dual instruction and consider him a close friend. Mark owns a construction business and one of his focuses is building hangars. His main supervisor building hangars is Marcia, and she is with him in his hangar. Alongside the two of them is Keith, who has a hangar down the taxiway. Keith is also a former student of mine and also owns an R44, a T28 Trojan, and a
Piper Navajo Chieftain. Keith owns a security company.
Here again, talk turns to politics...
Energy prices going up. Taxes going up. Insurance costs going up.
Where does it end? Who can afford to own an aircraft? How do we continue to fly? And ultimately, what can we do about these questions?
Keith leaves and almost immediately Dr. R. walks in, accompanied by his grown son. Dr. R., a Dentist, owns a large Dental facility across town. Also a former student of mine, he's lost so much weight since I last saw him I don't recognize him right away. "Diet and exercise" he says, and I'm glad to hear that the loss is not because he's deathly ill.
Again, talk turns to politics. Dr. R. is buying gold.
Dr. R. is buying ammunition. Dr. R. says having stores of ammunition will soon be more important than owning gold...
With ammunition you'll be able to buy gold.
We sit at the big table and beers are opened...
Now, for me there'll be no flying tonight, but conversation will become more relaxed, (and may be more interesting).
Jodie drives up in her jeep. In the passenger seat is Sophie, her Golden Lab/Pit Bull mix. Sophie is one solid canine... easily weighs 80 pounds, so it's a good thing she's a sweetie. Jodie is a student pilot, working toward her fixed-wing Private Pilot rating. She grabs a beer, sits, and joins the conversation. Sophie saunters over and plunks against my leg, wanting her ears scratched.
After drinking a beer with us, Dr. R. leaves.
Dr. S., an ER Doc and fixed-wing pilot walks through the door, smiling. He goes immediately to the fridge, grabs a beer, sits and joins the conversation. The five of us talk for over an hour before we finally say our "see ya next times" and head for home.
Interesting...
Dr. H., Frank, Keith, Mark, Marcia, Dr. R. and his son, Jodie, Dr. S., and me...
And the only thing we disagree on about the coming "troubles" is how long it will take to start, and how chaotic it will be when it starts. (Sophie didn't offer an opinion, other than to indicate "ear scratching" was wonderful.)
No one disagrees that it WILL start.
All are working as quickly as possible to prepare.
So Bob, I tried for ya man!
I had high hopes I'd be able to go fling-winging and write here about the joys of watching the shadow of the helicopter recede as we climb out on takeoff.
Didn't happen, Dude.
But I want ya to know, this session was good for me...
Lots of intelligent, interesting people from different walks of life agree with me that we're sitting on a powder keg.
After the Town Hall meetings, do you think our elected representatives have a clue about how working folks in the heartland of the country feel?
I hope so. Last night convinced me more than ever...
Getting their attention is the only way to avoid the explosion.
Updated-
2010 is right around the corner. Maybe this will get their attention?
02 September 2009
28 August 2009
Why "Anonymous" Is Good
A blog acquaintance is expressing a negative view about online anonymity...
If you take the time to go back and read my original posts you'll find, in the first few, my explanation about why I decided to remain an anonymous blogger. My desire was mostly fueled by the fact I didn't want to be limited in expressing myself here. I thought, (erroneously I've found), that I might be able to write at length when I was having trouble at work, or with family/friends. But in those first posts I recognized someone willing to read my blog and do the research could figure out who I am. That's even more true now than then. What I didn't realize was that many, including those same co-workers, family members, and friends could be guided to "Pitchpull" with a simple "Helicopter Blog" entry in any search engine. (That task is made a little more difficult because there is a Rock Band by the name of "Helicopter").
I spend a lot of time at work waiting for the telephone to ring. Much of that time I'm poking around on the internet reading news, surfing blogs, researching things of historical import to me. Sometimes I'll click on the "Next Blog" tab at the top of "Blogger" blogs just to see where it leads me. One night I did that and was transported to a blog with some interesting photographs, including an attractive face in the blogger's "Blogger" profile. I left a comment there expressing my appreciation for her work. The next day there was a comment here thanking me for my visit and complimenting me, saying how interesting she found "Pitchpull", and forthrightly asking me to stop by often and comment.
Heh.
Joan Rivers wrote a book, "Men Are Stupid... And They Like Big Boobs... " and Joan is MOSTLY right... Men ARE stupid. Men like boobs, big, small, and in-between. But I can tell you from experience, if a woman has an attractive face she can manipulate most men to do her bidding if she's smart, (and in my opinion most women are more wily than most men.)
So yes, compliments from this female blogger with a pretty face massaged my ego. I went back to her blog and found an email address in her profile and emailed her. From there a "virtual friendship" was formed.
At some point along the line I started hearing a great deal about "MySpace". Remember now, I'm a complete idiot when it comes to computers and much of what they can do for me, so I asked my new virtual friend about MySpace. She responded by helping me start my own account, then sent me her MySpace account address so I could check it out. What I found there shocked me...
She was almost completely open with the information she gave others there. I wrote her and told her she, a divorced Mother living by herself, was being too free with the information she was sharing with others. Surprised, she expressed doubt there was enough there for anyone to find her. So in less than ten minutes I dug a little, found her phone number, and called her. (She had a professional link to her son, and he was using his/her real last name.) She was dumbfounded. She'd been flirting with a few guys and had them sniffing around after her like puppy dogs. She suddenly realized any one of these guys could do what I had just done and could show up on her doorstep at any time. Too late, she began to try to cover her tracks a little.
I need not tell most of you this world is a dangerous place, getting more dangerous all the time. Just this past week we've seen a man arrested for vandalizing the headquarters of the political party he belongs to, trying to pass it off as hate from the opposing party.
Lunacy.
So when others complain about anonymity online and the ability it gives all of us to speak freely about our passions, please consider what I've written. If you want to find me I know you probably can, and I'm fairly well prepared for unwelcome visitors. But I'd obviously like to make it as difficult as possible for you to throw a brick through my picture window, just 'cause you disagree with my politics.
To the blogger who thinks I'm just a mirage...
Don't think we'd be friends? Yeah, I realize now you're probably right.
But you don't know me at all except you've read my claim that I spent a year trying to protect your right to come online and say whatever you want. (And my efforts were apparently successful, weren't they?!!)
But here's what seems odd to me...
If you don't like what you read here, why come?
Am I THAT FAR into your melon? Wow.
Would you like for me to free you from my curse?
Abra-cadabra, PLEASE and THANK YOU!...
You're free. You don't have to come here anymore!
Keep your rotor in the green, man.
If you take the time to go back and read my original posts you'll find, in the first few, my explanation about why I decided to remain an anonymous blogger. My desire was mostly fueled by the fact I didn't want to be limited in expressing myself here. I thought, (erroneously I've found), that I might be able to write at length when I was having trouble at work, or with family/friends. But in those first posts I recognized someone willing to read my blog and do the research could figure out who I am. That's even more true now than then. What I didn't realize was that many, including those same co-workers, family members, and friends could be guided to "Pitchpull" with a simple "Helicopter Blog" entry in any search engine. (That task is made a little more difficult because there is a Rock Band by the name of "Helicopter").
I spend a lot of time at work waiting for the telephone to ring. Much of that time I'm poking around on the internet reading news, surfing blogs, researching things of historical import to me. Sometimes I'll click on the "Next Blog" tab at the top of "Blogger" blogs just to see where it leads me. One night I did that and was transported to a blog with some interesting photographs, including an attractive face in the blogger's "Blogger" profile. I left a comment there expressing my appreciation for her work. The next day there was a comment here thanking me for my visit and complimenting me, saying how interesting she found "Pitchpull", and forthrightly asking me to stop by often and comment.
Heh.
Joan Rivers wrote a book, "Men Are Stupid... And They Like Big Boobs... " and Joan is MOSTLY right... Men ARE stupid. Men like boobs, big, small, and in-between. But I can tell you from experience, if a woman has an attractive face she can manipulate most men to do her bidding if she's smart, (and in my opinion most women are more wily than most men.)
So yes, compliments from this female blogger with a pretty face massaged my ego. I went back to her blog and found an email address in her profile and emailed her. From there a "virtual friendship" was formed.
At some point along the line I started hearing a great deal about "MySpace". Remember now, I'm a complete idiot when it comes to computers and much of what they can do for me, so I asked my new virtual friend about MySpace. She responded by helping me start my own account, then sent me her MySpace account address so I could check it out. What I found there shocked me...
She was almost completely open with the information she gave others there. I wrote her and told her she, a divorced Mother living by herself, was being too free with the information she was sharing with others. Surprised, she expressed doubt there was enough there for anyone to find her. So in less than ten minutes I dug a little, found her phone number, and called her. (She had a professional link to her son, and he was using his/her real last name.) She was dumbfounded. She'd been flirting with a few guys and had them sniffing around after her like puppy dogs. She suddenly realized any one of these guys could do what I had just done and could show up on her doorstep at any time. Too late, she began to try to cover her tracks a little.
I need not tell most of you this world is a dangerous place, getting more dangerous all the time. Just this past week we've seen a man arrested for vandalizing the headquarters of the political party he belongs to, trying to pass it off as hate from the opposing party.
Lunacy.
So when others complain about anonymity online and the ability it gives all of us to speak freely about our passions, please consider what I've written. If you want to find me I know you probably can, and I'm fairly well prepared for unwelcome visitors. But I'd obviously like to make it as difficult as possible for you to throw a brick through my picture window, just 'cause you disagree with my politics.
To the blogger who thinks I'm just a mirage...
Don't think we'd be friends? Yeah, I realize now you're probably right.
But you don't know me at all except you've read my claim that I spent a year trying to protect your right to come online and say whatever you want. (And my efforts were apparently successful, weren't they?!!)
But here's what seems odd to me...
If you don't like what you read here, why come?
Am I THAT FAR into your melon? Wow.
Would you like for me to free you from my curse?
Abra-cadabra, PLEASE and THANK YOU!...
You're free. You don't have to come here anymore!
Keep your rotor in the green, man.
27 August 2009
Call Your Congressperson?
I just got off the phone with my Congressman's office person, wanting to express my opposition to his signing any Bill that will increase our already disastrous debt load, (the health care Bill).
When I tried to express my opposition she interrupted me:
"You have two choices... Pro or Con."
I've generally been pleased with the way my Congressman, (a Democrat), has represented me and have voted FOR him in many, many elections.
But Congressman, I have a multitude of choices when it comes to your continued tenure in Washington...
And I'll be writing you a letter reminding you of those choices.
When I tried to express my opposition she interrupted me:
"You have two choices... Pro or Con."
I've generally been pleased with the way my Congressman, (a Democrat), has represented me and have voted FOR him in many, many elections.
But Congressman, I have a multitude of choices when it comes to your continued tenure in Washington...
And I'll be writing you a letter reminding you of those choices.
Just So You Know-
Sinclair thinks I'm filled with hate.
(Interesting... apparently some commenters disagreed.)
(Interesting... apparently some commenters disagreed.)
26 August 2009
24 August 2009
Dealing With Huge Numbers
$9 Trillion.
Let me once again write that so you can see the number:
$9,000,000,000,000.00
That's the number President Soros, (excuse me, that was a Freudian slip), President Obama says our national deficit will reach within ten years, assuming no more debt is added during his administration.
It's an impossible number to digest.
Let's try to understand it this way-
A second is a very short period of time, right?
But nine trillion seconds= 285,388 years.
(Check my math, if you can find a calculator that will hold that number!)
Think we'll ever pay off this debt?
Updated:
Nine trillion is impossible.
Fourteen trillion is impossible for even economists to comprehend.
Buy Gold, silver, and ammunition.
Let me once again write that so you can see the number:
$9,000,000,000,000.00
That's the number President Soros, (excuse me, that was a Freudian slip), President Obama says our national deficit will reach within ten years, assuming no more debt is added during his administration.
It's an impossible number to digest.
Let's try to understand it this way-
A second is a very short period of time, right?
But nine trillion seconds= 285,388 years.
(Check my math, if you can find a calculator that will hold that number!)
Think we'll ever pay off this debt?
Updated:
Nine trillion is impossible.
Fourteen trillion is impossible for even economists to comprehend.
Buy Gold, silver, and ammunition.
23 August 2009
KAAAAAAAABOOOOOOOM!
Gosh...
Wouldn't ya love to see the Congressman tap dance to answer that question?
22 August 2009
Social Security
Yeah, folks are waking up. It took a 2X4 upside the head, but their eyes are finally open. Seems half those polled would like to opt out of Social Security.
Tell you what, Barack Ponzi...
Even at this late date in my life, at a time when I'm eligible to retire and start receiving Social Security payouts, I'd make this deal in a heartbeat:
Pay me what I've paid in a lump sum, no interest included. I'll gladly take that money and invest it for my future.
You want to manage my health care program?
Ha. You're kidding right?
Thanks, BUT I DON'T THINK SO!
Tell you what, Barack Ponzi...
Even at this late date in my life, at a time when I'm eligible to retire and start receiving Social Security payouts, I'd make this deal in a heartbeat:
Pay me what I've paid in a lump sum, no interest included. I'll gladly take that money and invest it for my future.
You want to manage my health care program?
Ha. You're kidding right?
Thanks, BUT I DON'T THINK SO!
19 August 2009
I'm Furious!
This upset me so much I went to bed angry!
BUMPED AND UPDATED:
I left a comment at that link that I think is worthy of your time, if Bob will publish it and leave it there.
BUMPED AND UPDATED:
I left a comment at that link that I think is worthy of your time, if Bob will publish it and leave it there.
This Doc Has Read The Bill!
Note:
Bumped back to the top of the page. Newer posts are below.
We now know more about how some legislators are trying to force this legislation into law, despite the fact most of them haven't read the bill and cannot correctly answer questions posed to them at Town Hall meetings.
(And I REALLY REALLY REALLY want to read Flightfire's "long response" about the anesthesiologists compensation!)
Have you read the Bill?
Of course not. Nor have I. I'm not sure I'd understand it even IF I read it.
This note looks genuine to me, and Dr. Fraser takes the work out of it for the rest of us...
"Senator, I guarantee that I personally will do everything possible to inform patients and my fellow physicians about the dangers of the proposed bills you and your colleagues are debating.
Furthermore, If you vote for a bill that enforces socialized medicine on the country and destroys the doctor/patient relationship, I will do everything in my power to make sure you lose your job in the next election."
You GO Doc, and THANK YOU!
Dr. Stephen E. Fraser's easily understandable summation and full email to Senator Evan Bayh is at this link.
Bumped back to the top of the page. Newer posts are below.
We now know more about how some legislators are trying to force this legislation into law, despite the fact most of them haven't read the bill and cannot correctly answer questions posed to them at Town Hall meetings.
(And I REALLY REALLY REALLY want to read Flightfire's "long response" about the anesthesiologists compensation!)
Have you read the Bill?
Of course not. Nor have I. I'm not sure I'd understand it even IF I read it.
This note looks genuine to me, and Dr. Fraser takes the work out of it for the rest of us...
"Senator, I guarantee that I personally will do everything possible to inform patients and my fellow physicians about the dangers of the proposed bills you and your colleagues are debating.
Furthermore, If you vote for a bill that enforces socialized medicine on the country and destroys the doctor/patient relationship, I will do everything in my power to make sure you lose your job in the next election."
You GO Doc, and THANK YOU!
Dr. Stephen E. Fraser's easily understandable summation and full email to Senator Evan Bayh is at this link.
This Is A Joke, Right?
I was riding my bike into town on a feeder street to buy a few needs for later activities. In the oncoming lane a big Crown Victoria came to a stop and flagged me as I passed...
"Sir, can you help me?"...
A bald-headed man, probably 80 years old, maybe older.
"Well I'll try. Whatcha need?"
"Do you know where the Comcast Cable office is? I need to pay my bill there."
"No sir, I don't do business with them. Do you have an address for them?"
"No I don't. I have the bill here..." (Flashes the the bill at me.) "I'm assuming they're in the business section in town."
(Our town of 7,000 has one main drag where most businesses are located.)
"Do you have a phone number for them?" (I have my cell phone and will call them if it's a local call.)
"No, all I have is their business office in Indiana."
"So you set off to pay this bill not knowing where you were going? You wanted an adventure, didn't you!"
"Yeah, I guess I did."
I got him turned around and headed back toward our business district where he said he'd ask for more directions. I had to laugh... this incident reminded me so much of this joke.
On his bumper? This sticker-
"OBAMA-BIDEN '08"
Perfect.
"Sir, can you help me?"...
A bald-headed man, probably 80 years old, maybe older.
"Well I'll try. Whatcha need?"
"Do you know where the Comcast Cable office is? I need to pay my bill there."
"No sir, I don't do business with them. Do you have an address for them?"
"No I don't. I have the bill here..." (Flashes the the bill at me.) "I'm assuming they're in the business section in town."
(Our town of 7,000 has one main drag where most businesses are located.)
"Do you have a phone number for them?" (I have my cell phone and will call them if it's a local call.)
"No, all I have is their business office in Indiana."
"So you set off to pay this bill not knowing where you were going? You wanted an adventure, didn't you!"
"Yeah, I guess I did."
I got him turned around and headed back toward our business district where he said he'd ask for more directions. I had to laugh... this incident reminded me so much of this joke.
On his bumper? This sticker-
"OBAMA-BIDEN '08"
Perfect.
18 August 2009
Lock And Load
First, an observation from personal experience-
I reside in an area that at one time had a thriving industry where even folks without a High School diploma could go to work and make a decent salary. And many of my neighbors did just that-
They left school and went to work. So by definition we could call them short-sighted, couldn't we?
For them, this behavior trait showed up in lifestyle decisions too-
Looking out at my retirement years, I was denying myself some of the finer things in life by stashing as much as I could in my IRA and 401K plans.
Not these folks! Immediate gratification was the name of the game...
Big new truck.
Big new car.
A Harley-Davidson motorcycle of some sort.
Big Bass boat.
An RV of 30' length.
And of course a nice home.
All this "living" left no money at all for the future.
But then the economy changed, and because of environmental policy their industry was considered by the public to be "toxic". Their employers shuttered and closed, leaving these non-skilled laborers with no future, and no education to offer.
For months the newspapers were filled with motorcycles, bass boats, RVs, for sale.
Then it was 4X4 trucks.
Then it was the Cadillac or Lincoln.
Then it was the house.
Some of these folks are friends, so it has been painful to watch. But still, why didn't they learn some of the same things I learned from fables told when we were young?
So as an "ant" I've watched "grasshoppers" with interest all my life, feeling fairly secure that I was doing the right thing, living below my means and saving for the future.
Now I'm hearing rumblings that scare me to death. Granted, this is just talk now, I suppose thrown out there to see how we ants will react.
Think it's just "right-wing nutjobs" overreacting?
Take a look here and here.
If it's a reaction they're looking for, my reaction is this:
Right now I can only imagine two things that would make me take up arms against my government and some of my fellow citizens-
Restricting 2nd Amendment rights, and stealing funds I have suffered my entire life to put away.
Once again folks, here's the deal-
Sit quietly, and these Socialists will steal your stuff.
(They already stole GM/Chrysler bondholder's stuff!)
Be alert. Let your elected representatives know you're mad as hell, and you're not gonna take it anymore!
UPDATE, or I should just say MUCH MORE on this subject, (with some great comments), here.
I see the change. Now where is the hope?
I reside in an area that at one time had a thriving industry where even folks without a High School diploma could go to work and make a decent salary. And many of my neighbors did just that-
They left school and went to work. So by definition we could call them short-sighted, couldn't we?
For them, this behavior trait showed up in lifestyle decisions too-
Looking out at my retirement years, I was denying myself some of the finer things in life by stashing as much as I could in my IRA and 401K plans.
Not these folks! Immediate gratification was the name of the game...
Big new truck.
Big new car.
A Harley-Davidson motorcycle of some sort.
Big Bass boat.
An RV of 30' length.
And of course a nice home.
All this "living" left no money at all for the future.
But then the economy changed, and because of environmental policy their industry was considered by the public to be "toxic". Their employers shuttered and closed, leaving these non-skilled laborers with no future, and no education to offer.
For months the newspapers were filled with motorcycles, bass boats, RVs, for sale.
Then it was 4X4 trucks.
Then it was the Cadillac or Lincoln.
Then it was the house.
Some of these folks are friends, so it has been painful to watch. But still, why didn't they learn some of the same things I learned from fables told when we were young?
So as an "ant" I've watched "grasshoppers" with interest all my life, feeling fairly secure that I was doing the right thing, living below my means and saving for the future.
Now I'm hearing rumblings that scare me to death. Granted, this is just talk now, I suppose thrown out there to see how we ants will react.
Think it's just "right-wing nutjobs" overreacting?
Take a look here and here.
If it's a reaction they're looking for, my reaction is this:
Right now I can only imagine two things that would make me take up arms against my government and some of my fellow citizens-
Restricting 2nd Amendment rights, and stealing funds I have suffered my entire life to put away.
Once again folks, here's the deal-
Sit quietly, and these Socialists will steal your stuff.
(They already stole GM/Chrysler bondholder's stuff!)
Be alert. Let your elected representatives know you're mad as hell, and you're not gonna take it anymore!
UPDATE, or I should just say MUCH MORE on this subject, (with some great comments), here.
I see the change. Now where is the hope?
15 August 2009
I Channel Jack Benny
I've been driving my old Maxwell for almost 100 years now. What a great old car! Puttering around town with the infrequent trip down the Interstate at a blazing 45 miles an hour, I put about 5,000 miles per year on the old "Maxie".
Let's do the math-
93 years times 5,000 miles per year equals 465,000 miles, right?
(I have no idea how many miles are actually on the car... the speedometer/odometer quit functioning 50 years ago!)
But here's the problem. The old car is an antique and is worth a fortune to collectors. It's my daily driver, and insurance companies cringe at the idea someone could collide with me and do serious damage to this old gem. Insuring it has become a huge burden.
And parts? Oh, don't get me started! I mentioned the broken speedo... where do you think I'm gonna find a speedo cable for a 1916 Maxwell, for heaven's sakes? When parts break I'm having to fabricate replacements these days, Do you have any idea how much that costs?! (Insurance companies do, that's why my insurance premiums are absolutely through the roof!)
But here's the deal-
How fair is it that I have to pay a fortune to drive my car? Is it fair that I have to pay so much more for parts than my neighbors? I don't think so!
I want our legislators to resolve my problem. I want them to pass a law to help me continue to drive my old Maxwell-
I want affordable insurance!
I want an affordable extended warranty to fix anything that breaks on the old gal, and I want that warranty to include all "pre-existing conditions" like my old speedometer cable!
Is this too much to ask? After all, it's my RIGHT to drive my old car and if I cannot afford it myself, the American taxpayer should subsidize me, right?
Power to the people!
14 August 2009
The NFL
Four years ago I published this post questioning why folks follow professional sports, considering Pro athletes don't normally play in cities they grew up in. Today Michael Vick held a news conference announcing he's returning to NFL football with the Philadelphia Eagles. How's that make you feel?
If people have paid their dues for an error I'm all for giving them a second chance. Still, I don't understand why we're paying this man over a million dollars to play a game in a city far away from where he grew up.
It simply makes no sense to me at all.
13 August 2009
Hurling Day
Man I loved that show! (I hadn't realized until researching for this post that the great Jim Henson was involved with "Dinosaurs".)
"Hurling Day" was one of my favorite episodes and highlights Obama's problem. He must calm his elderly constituency about "Death Panel" problems associated with cutting medical costs.
Two quick thoughts:
1. The left called GWB Hitler! Hitler! Hitler!
But this is the closest thing to eugenics I have seen proposed by any administration and what do we hear from the left? Crickets chirping.
2. If we are fortunate we'll all get very old. Do you want some bureaucrat to decide whether you live or die?
12 August 2009
09 August 2009
Where Do We Go From Here?
You've gone from interested, to concerned...
From concerned to anxious...
From anxious, to angry...
From angry to furious.
How do our leaders respond?
They use "The Chicago Method"
"They pull a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue. That's the Chicago way!"
At this point they've dispatched thugs to beat up those that disagree with Bozama.
If you are at the end of your rope, knowing their Modus Operandi, what's your next move?
UPDATE-
President(?) Obama names his new Townhall Healthcare Debate Czar!
07 August 2009
"You See A Lot of Bad Stuff, Don't Ya?"
Yes.
The point of the service is to move folks with big problems quickly to get life-saving, maybe life-changing care. All EMS folks are exposed to ugly injuries and sickness. Helicopter EMS people, by definition, get to see more of the worst cases.
This one was ugly and tragic-
"Your patient is a 32 yr. old female. Her arms were caught up in, crushed and burned by the machine she was operating."
Replacing a sick fellow employee, she was operating a machine with which she was not familiar. Her job was to put cardboard containers of product into a stream of shrink-wrap plastic and run both through a set of extremely hot rollers to encase the individual product containers in weather-proof plastic. She somehow got both arms into the hot rollers, burning the muscles on both to the bone.
A Mother of three trying to make some extra cash for the family, she'll no longer be able to feel the warmth of her kids faces as she wipes away their tears.
Try to be careful out there folks.
The point of the service is to move folks with big problems quickly to get life-saving, maybe life-changing care. All EMS folks are exposed to ugly injuries and sickness. Helicopter EMS people, by definition, get to see more of the worst cases.
This one was ugly and tragic-
"Your patient is a 32 yr. old female. Her arms were caught up in, crushed and burned by the machine she was operating."
Replacing a sick fellow employee, she was operating a machine with which she was not familiar. Her job was to put cardboard containers of product into a stream of shrink-wrap plastic and run both through a set of extremely hot rollers to encase the individual product containers in weather-proof plastic. She somehow got both arms into the hot rollers, burning the muscles on both to the bone.
A Mother of three trying to make some extra cash for the family, she'll no longer be able to feel the warmth of her kids faces as she wipes away their tears.
Try to be careful out there folks.
04 August 2009
Zero Calories!
One of my now-and-again helicopter students is a Boeing 757/767 Captain for a national carrier, based at "Bigtown". Six years ago he began to have problems with his vision. The problem soon worsened to the point he could no longer read his charts at night. He could no longer pass an eye exam, and lost his medical. This is one of any pilot's biggest nightmares...
For a guy whose above-average income depends on being able to pass a Class I flight physical, it's a life-changing event.
Subsequent testing found he had a tumor on his brain stem. The location of the tumor made surgery a life-threatening proposition, so he couldn't find a Surgeon willing to take on the task of removing it. All told him to accept his fate, look for other work, and watch the progression of the growth of the tumor.
Luckily for him we have a major medical school in Bigtown. He went to the head of the neurology department at the School and pleaded his case. The Department head agreed to take the case personally, but reiterated the possible consequences of cutting on that part of the brain. My student didn't care... if he couldn't fly he'd just as soon face the prospects of taking the step to "the next stage of life".
The Surgeon removed a 4-inch square plate of my student's skull and attacked the tumor from the back side. Upon reaching the tumor he was surprised...
He expected the growth to have the consistency of jello. But this tumor was hard, about the size and shape of a Buckeye. Puzzled, he scraped off a sample of the tumor and sent it off to the lab for identification. When the results came back he thought they were a mistake, so he took another sample and sent it to a different technician...
It came back with the same finding...
Aspartame.
This skilled Surgeon carefully removed the tumor, and in a year my student was back flying the big Boeing.
My student admits to drinking six or more Diet Cokes per day before his surgery, but the brand of beverage is not important...
Most all sugar-free drinks now contain Aspartame.
Obviously he now has that addiction under control...
He now drinks nothing containing Aspartame. Relating this story to others, I hear anecdotes about China banning the substance and other individuals having other health problems related to the chemical.
Personally, I won't stop drinking diet sodas or other beverages containing the substance, but I don't think it's a good idea to be drinking mass quantities of anything that has a chemical like Aspartame in it.
I like water.
I hear drinking Green Tea has health benefits, (as does red wine for those not flying within 8 hours).
But it's probably a good idea to cut down on diet sodas, huh?
I don't think we need to cut Aspartame completely out of our diets, but I do think we probably need to moderate our intake of any non-organic substance.
What about you...
Got a story to relate?
For a guy whose above-average income depends on being able to pass a Class I flight physical, it's a life-changing event.
Subsequent testing found he had a tumor on his brain stem. The location of the tumor made surgery a life-threatening proposition, so he couldn't find a Surgeon willing to take on the task of removing it. All told him to accept his fate, look for other work, and watch the progression of the growth of the tumor.
Luckily for him we have a major medical school in Bigtown. He went to the head of the neurology department at the School and pleaded his case. The Department head agreed to take the case personally, but reiterated the possible consequences of cutting on that part of the brain. My student didn't care... if he couldn't fly he'd just as soon face the prospects of taking the step to "the next stage of life".
The Surgeon removed a 4-inch square plate of my student's skull and attacked the tumor from the back side. Upon reaching the tumor he was surprised...
He expected the growth to have the consistency of jello. But this tumor was hard, about the size and shape of a Buckeye. Puzzled, he scraped off a sample of the tumor and sent it off to the lab for identification. When the results came back he thought they were a mistake, so he took another sample and sent it to a different technician...
It came back with the same finding...
Aspartame.
This skilled Surgeon carefully removed the tumor, and in a year my student was back flying the big Boeing.
My student admits to drinking six or more Diet Cokes per day before his surgery, but the brand of beverage is not important...
Most all sugar-free drinks now contain Aspartame.
Obviously he now has that addiction under control...
He now drinks nothing containing Aspartame. Relating this story to others, I hear anecdotes about China banning the substance and other individuals having other health problems related to the chemical.
Personally, I won't stop drinking diet sodas or other beverages containing the substance, but I don't think it's a good idea to be drinking mass quantities of anything that has a chemical like Aspartame in it.
I like water.
I hear drinking Green Tea has health benefits, (as does red wine for those not flying within 8 hours).
But it's probably a good idea to cut down on diet sodas, huh?
I don't think we need to cut Aspartame completely out of our diets, but I do think we probably need to moderate our intake of any non-organic substance.
What about you...
Got a story to relate?
29 July 2009
So I'm A Race-Relations Expert?
Ha.
Emphatically... NOT!
But in a way we're all students, aren't we? Most of us want our lives to get better, and realize if it gets better for our neighbor it will, by osmosis, get better for us too. Some, as has been made very, very obvious in the last week, profit from racial tension and are perfectly happy with racial discord.
Some have been profiting from it all their lives.
When Obama was elected President, one of the few things that gave me a glimmer of hope about the future was his promise to "be a uniter".
Well he sure dropped the ball during the clutch play, didn't he?!
Two things happened to me almost simultaneously several years back...
I got a telephone call from a prospective helicopter student. From the outset of the call it was obvious the guy was a black man... cadence, accent, word usage, sentence structure... all indicated "I'm a black man".
Okay, I have no problem with that... his money was green and he wanted to share it with me. He sounded like an intelligent dude. Let's go flying...
We did, and he was... black, and intelligent.
Almost the same night I happened upon a British movie titled "Secrets and Lies". It portrays a black English woman who knows she is adopted and is searching for her birth mother.
This is a wonderful movie, well written, directed, and acted, and I recommend it to you. But one thing struck me about it... at their first meeting, after several telephone conversations, the woman's birth mother is surprised that the daughter is Black...
Apparently in Great Britain, Blacks don't have their own "talk". (This was verified by my lead pilot, who was born and raised in Bristol, England.)
So what's the advantage of "Black English" here in the U.S.?
Some Blacks in the U.S. make fun of others for "talking White".
Bill Cosby, trying to point out how counterproductive this is for job seekers, has been called an "Uncle Tom".
Blacks want to maintain a "Black culture", and that's fine...
It's been a long, ugly road for Blacks to reach this point in history, where an African-American can be elected to the highest office in the land. Black folks have a right to be proud.
But even the term "African-American" is a divider, isn't it?
As a White man I bristle at some things:
The NAACP,
The Congressional Black Caucus,
Black Entertainment Television,
Miss "Black America",
The National Association of Black Journalists,
The Urban League,
The National Association of Black Law Enforcement Executives...
And on and on and on.
Let's talk about true equality here...
Where are the similar "White" organizations?
...Oh, I see... that would be RACIST, wouldn't it? Then why aren't these Black organizations racist?
My simple answer? In my opinion they are, and yet we tolerate,
no... cultivate them.
Are you familiar with Brown Vs. The Board of Education?
(I took just enough Law in college to be dangerous.)
In that decision, the Supremes decided that "Separate", by definition, meant "Unequal".
So by separating themselves with all these "Black" organizations...
Separating themselves even by their easily identifiable manner of speaking, for whatever reason, many Blacks seem to prefer this inequality.
And now comes Professor Henry Louis Gates Jr...
A man who, as a Harvard Professor, has reached a pinnacle few of us can hope to achieve, and he's claiming discrimination because of color. Horribly, when Barack Obama had a chance to make this a "Teachable moment" he failed miserably, because his entire life had been devoted to fortifying the "separateness" of Blacks by reinforcing organizations like those listed above.
Tragic.
Here's my open letter to the man who got the most votes for POTUS in the last election:
Mr. Obama-
You now have the chance to truly lead.
You can, as you promised, be a "uniter". You have a moment in history and a pulpit from which to give us the "Change" you promised. You now can make a bigger impact on our society than even the great Dr. Martin Luther King Jr..
Let's move away from the racial profiteering and divisiveness of the likes of Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton.
Let's move away from "Separate but equal".
Because as an Attorney you know better than most...
Separate, by definition, is NOT equal.
Please, don't waste this moment.
UPDATE: 1738 hours-
Fellow Harvard Professor Ruth R. Wisse, in "An open letter to Henry Louis Gates" asks the Professor what advantage he thought he'd gain by "talking black".
Emphatically... NOT!
But in a way we're all students, aren't we? Most of us want our lives to get better, and realize if it gets better for our neighbor it will, by osmosis, get better for us too. Some, as has been made very, very obvious in the last week, profit from racial tension and are perfectly happy with racial discord.
Some have been profiting from it all their lives.
When Obama was elected President, one of the few things that gave me a glimmer of hope about the future was his promise to "be a uniter".
Well he sure dropped the ball during the clutch play, didn't he?!
Two things happened to me almost simultaneously several years back...
I got a telephone call from a prospective helicopter student. From the outset of the call it was obvious the guy was a black man... cadence, accent, word usage, sentence structure... all indicated "I'm a black man".
Okay, I have no problem with that... his money was green and he wanted to share it with me. He sounded like an intelligent dude. Let's go flying...
We did, and he was... black, and intelligent.
Almost the same night I happened upon a British movie titled "Secrets and Lies". It portrays a black English woman who knows she is adopted and is searching for her birth mother.
This is a wonderful movie, well written, directed, and acted, and I recommend it to you. But one thing struck me about it... at their first meeting, after several telephone conversations, the woman's birth mother is surprised that the daughter is Black...
Apparently in Great Britain, Blacks don't have their own "talk". (This was verified by my lead pilot, who was born and raised in Bristol, England.)
So what's the advantage of "Black English" here in the U.S.?
Some Blacks in the U.S. make fun of others for "talking White".
Bill Cosby, trying to point out how counterproductive this is for job seekers, has been called an "Uncle Tom".
Blacks want to maintain a "Black culture", and that's fine...
It's been a long, ugly road for Blacks to reach this point in history, where an African-American can be elected to the highest office in the land. Black folks have a right to be proud.
But even the term "African-American" is a divider, isn't it?
As a White man I bristle at some things:
The NAACP,
The Congressional Black Caucus,
Black Entertainment Television,
Miss "Black America",
The National Association of Black Journalists,
The Urban League,
The National Association of Black Law Enforcement Executives...
And on and on and on.
Let's talk about true equality here...
Where are the similar "White" organizations?
...Oh, I see... that would be RACIST, wouldn't it? Then why aren't these Black organizations racist?
My simple answer? In my opinion they are, and yet we tolerate,
no... cultivate them.
Are you familiar with Brown Vs. The Board of Education?
(I took just enough Law in college to be dangerous.)
In that decision, the Supremes decided that "Separate", by definition, meant "Unequal".
So by separating themselves with all these "Black" organizations...
Separating themselves even by their easily identifiable manner of speaking, for whatever reason, many Blacks seem to prefer this inequality.
And now comes Professor Henry Louis Gates Jr...
A man who, as a Harvard Professor, has reached a pinnacle few of us can hope to achieve, and he's claiming discrimination because of color. Horribly, when Barack Obama had a chance to make this a "Teachable moment" he failed miserably, because his entire life had been devoted to fortifying the "separateness" of Blacks by reinforcing organizations like those listed above.
Tragic.
Here's my open letter to the man who got the most votes for POTUS in the last election:
Mr. Obama-
You now have the chance to truly lead.
You can, as you promised, be a "uniter". You have a moment in history and a pulpit from which to give us the "Change" you promised. You now can make a bigger impact on our society than even the great Dr. Martin Luther King Jr..
Let's move away from the racial profiteering and divisiveness of the likes of Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton.
Let's move away from "Separate but equal".
Because as an Attorney you know better than most...
Separate, by definition, is NOT equal.
Please, don't waste this moment.
UPDATE: 1738 hours-
Fellow Harvard Professor Ruth R. Wisse, in "An open letter to Henry Louis Gates" asks the Professor what advantage he thought he'd gain by "talking black".
26 July 2009
25 July 2009
Obama's Friend Skippy
Are you the wheel that gets the grease...
Or the nail that gets the hammer?
Professor Gates may wish he'd not drawn attention to himself.
Obama sure has strange friends!
Or the nail that gets the hammer?
Professor Gates may wish he'd not drawn attention to himself.
Obama sure has strange friends!
24 July 2009
Help, Police!
Look over there in the upper-right corner of the blog, where it says "About Me".
See where it says "Ex- Dogcatcher, Ex-Cop. Ex-County Civil Defense Director"?
I did all those jobs for a County that was adjacent to a major U.S. city. I was a fully commissioned Deputy Sheriff, flying as the Department's helicopter pilot, part-time. I did that job for three years. So I could make enough money to put beans and biscuits on the table, the County Executive, a personal friend, gave me other jobs that overlapped my tenure as a Deputy...
As a Dogcatcher I was promoted to Chief Rabies Control Officer overseeing 28 Animal Control Officers. I apparently impressed the boss with my performance because he later gave me the job of Civil Defense Director where I wrote the County's first Emergency Operations Plan.
But I flew the helicopter as a Deputy Sheriff for three years, and I want to focus on that duty in this post.
What an eye-opener that was! Looking around at my fellow Deputies I was surprised...
Some of them were just kids, 21-22 years old. Of course, some were older. Some were quite intelligent, some were of average intelligence. All were underpaid for the risks they faced everyday. (A city within the county lost an officer in a shooting during a routine traffic stop during my first year of employment there.)
One or two were held in scorn by all the others...
One in particular made no bones about the fact that he loved going "Code Three"...
Lights and siren blazing, scorching the pavement for whatever reason.
One of the others obviously had a "Little Man Complex", and had joined just because the gun and badge gave him the ability to push others around.
Neither of these Officers lasted long in our department.
But for three years I flew overhead and provided aerial support for these brave folks...
An overhead perch to search, or watch what was happening on the ground during daylight hours...
An "artificial sun" to turn night into day with my "Nightsun" during darkness when they were searching for victims ejected from an auto accident in that wheat field, or when the odd perp. was trying to escape. I listened to radio calls and experienced near first-hand what these guys had to deal with in order to do their jobs well. They continually deal with people you and I don't want to share a bus seat with...
"Underbelly of the world" types.
They are spat upon, subjected to the vilest of language, and sometimes assaulted.
Few can do the job well.
So when a Police Officer shows up at your door because there is a report that someone is attempting to break in to your home...
Having to be aware and prepared to face deadly force...
Apprised of the fact that this same address experienced an attempted break-in earlier that very week...
It's not good form to shout at the Officer who is trying to protect your property.
...And anyone who thinks that Officer is "stupid" is beneath contempt.
UPDATE, Friday afternoon:
Ha ! President "Stupidly"!
Did I hear an apology in that 5 minutes of rambling? Is this self-absorbed dweeb capable of admitting he made a mistake?
23 July 2009
Colonoscopy, 21 July 2009.
This is my second time at this rodeo. (Previous post here.)
It's a little less stressful the second time around, but drinking the gallon of "GoLytley" was still an anxiety producer.
I got home from flying with a student at 10 P.M. the day before the procedure and started drinking the vile stuff at 11 P.M. figuring I could force it down in a couple hours. I was wrong. I was adding a little lemonade to each 8 ounce glass of GoLytely to make the taste more palatable. That means I had to get slightly more than sixteen 8-ounce glasses of the stuff down before I could go to bed. Writing about it now doesn't make it seem so bad, but lemme tell ya...
You get bloated after the first couple glasses and you simply cannot bang 'em down, one glass after another. Added to the time-consumption factor is that you are, of course, heading to the toilet every few minutes to experience a disgusting explosion, and you have an idea of how time consuming it was to drink this gallon of ugly tasting stuff.
I finished drinking it at 3 A.M., complete with the chills that are a possible side-effect of GoLytely.
Off to bed finally to sleep fitfully, I get up a couple more times for "mini-explosions". I woke at 9 A.M. and showered, then headed to the hospital, bleary-eyed.
All went like clockwork...
Through admitting to register and get my armband...
Walk to surgery and get escorted to my bed. Disrobe and put on the gown. They start an I.V. and ask once again if I'm allergic to anything. I'm wheeled into the O.R. where I meet "Jerry", my anesthetist. Jerry is a big ol' good humored southern boy...
We discuss my employment and talk about flying helicopters in Viet Nam and some of my more interesting EMS flights.
The big difference between this time and my last colonoscopy is that this time they'll be KNOCKING ME OUT COMPLETELY. I ask "What drug will you be using?"
With his southern accent Jerry says, "Diprivan"
I laugh. "Now Michael Jackson and I will have something in common."
I'm also getting an endoscope done this time to check for damage from acid reflux to my esophagus, so they make me bite on and install a device that will give them easy access to my oral cavity.
Jerry says, "This may burn a little bit for a few seconds as I start it", when he starts the Diprivan drip, but it doesn't.
"Can you turn on your left side for me so we'll have access to where we need to go?"
"Let me fluff your pillow and make you more comfortable."
...And the next thing I remember is having my head elevated in the recovery room and the nurse announcing "You're done."
Sara Jean now at my side, I drink a glass of grape juice to prove I won't vomit.
"Get dressed and we'll wheel you outta here."
And they do.
After the last procedure I walked the mile home rather than trouble anyone to come get me. There'll be none of that this time...
My gait is unsteady due to whatever it was they pumped into me. Sara Jean chauffers me home, where I sleep for four hours.
So now it's the day after, and other than a slightly irritated larynx and a mysterious minor pain on my left jaw, which they probably manhandled trying to insert the 'scope, I feel fine. I even have an appetite.
They found two polyps and removed them. The Doc says, "I'm 99% sure they're benign, but we'll check and let ya know." And this is the big reason for getting this procedure done, folks...
Removing these things early prevents them from becoming life-threatening later.
I now have a prescription for Prilosec because my esophagus was slightly inflamed and we want to get the acid reflux under control, lest I get CA there.
So there you have it...
One day of slight discomfort and I'm now confident that I won't be having problems with one of the major diseases killing folks today. That's a trade... that assurance, that I'll make again and again in the future.
If you're over 50, you should too.
Get it done so you have one less thing to worry about.
ASAP.
Humorist Dave Barry's column on his colonoscopy experience is here, and is a much funnier version of my account.
It's a little less stressful the second time around, but drinking the gallon of "GoLytley" was still an anxiety producer.
I got home from flying with a student at 10 P.M. the day before the procedure and started drinking the vile stuff at 11 P.M. figuring I could force it down in a couple hours. I was wrong. I was adding a little lemonade to each 8 ounce glass of GoLytely to make the taste more palatable. That means I had to get slightly more than sixteen 8-ounce glasses of the stuff down before I could go to bed. Writing about it now doesn't make it seem so bad, but lemme tell ya...
You get bloated after the first couple glasses and you simply cannot bang 'em down, one glass after another. Added to the time-consumption factor is that you are, of course, heading to the toilet every few minutes to experience a disgusting explosion, and you have an idea of how time consuming it was to drink this gallon of ugly tasting stuff.
I finished drinking it at 3 A.M., complete with the chills that are a possible side-effect of GoLytely.
Off to bed finally to sleep fitfully, I get up a couple more times for "mini-explosions". I woke at 9 A.M. and showered, then headed to the hospital, bleary-eyed.
All went like clockwork...
Through admitting to register and get my armband...
Walk to surgery and get escorted to my bed. Disrobe and put on the gown. They start an I.V. and ask once again if I'm allergic to anything. I'm wheeled into the O.R. where I meet "Jerry", my anesthetist. Jerry is a big ol' good humored southern boy...
We discuss my employment and talk about flying helicopters in Viet Nam and some of my more interesting EMS flights.
The big difference between this time and my last colonoscopy is that this time they'll be KNOCKING ME OUT COMPLETELY. I ask "What drug will you be using?"
With his southern accent Jerry says, "Diprivan"
I laugh. "Now Michael Jackson and I will have something in common."
I'm also getting an endoscope done this time to check for damage from acid reflux to my esophagus, so they make me bite on and install a device that will give them easy access to my oral cavity.
Jerry says, "This may burn a little bit for a few seconds as I start it", when he starts the Diprivan drip, but it doesn't.
"Can you turn on your left side for me so we'll have access to where we need to go?"
"Let me fluff your pillow and make you more comfortable."
...And the next thing I remember is having my head elevated in the recovery room and the nurse announcing "You're done."
Sara Jean now at my side, I drink a glass of grape juice to prove I won't vomit.
"Get dressed and we'll wheel you outta here."
And they do.
After the last procedure I walked the mile home rather than trouble anyone to come get me. There'll be none of that this time...
My gait is unsteady due to whatever it was they pumped into me. Sara Jean chauffers me home, where I sleep for four hours.
So now it's the day after, and other than a slightly irritated larynx and a mysterious minor pain on my left jaw, which they probably manhandled trying to insert the 'scope, I feel fine. I even have an appetite.
They found two polyps and removed them. The Doc says, "I'm 99% sure they're benign, but we'll check and let ya know." And this is the big reason for getting this procedure done, folks...
Removing these things early prevents them from becoming life-threatening later.
I now have a prescription for Prilosec because my esophagus was slightly inflamed and we want to get the acid reflux under control, lest I get CA there.
So there you have it...
One day of slight discomfort and I'm now confident that I won't be having problems with one of the major diseases killing folks today. That's a trade... that assurance, that I'll make again and again in the future.
If you're over 50, you should too.
Get it done so you have one less thing to worry about.
ASAP.
Humorist Dave Barry's column on his colonoscopy experience is here, and is a much funnier version of my account.
22 July 2009
YES...YOU...CAN!
Own the Commander In Ch-Ch-Ch-Chief "Chia Pet"!
Would you like the (pre-election) "Happy" Obama, or the- gotta get this health care reform bill passed- "Determined" Obama?
(And I'm not gonna tell you why I HAVE to own one, except that it involves the dogs.)
Would you like the (pre-election) "Happy" Obama, or the- gotta get this health care reform bill passed- "Determined" Obama?
(And I'm not gonna tell you why I HAVE to own one, except that it involves the dogs.)
Those That Don't Know History...
Rush Limbaugh no longer conducts business in New York City.
Why?
Because taxes there were increased to the point it was worthwhile for him to move. (Some lefty idiot in a comment at the link says "Leave the country. I'd be glad to get rid of a TRAITOR like You!")
Typical lefty...
Obviously no student of history.
For those of you too young to remember, or for those of you that have forgotten, ask yourself this...
Why did the Beatles end up residing in the United States?
If you think Rush Limbaugh can't/won't leave the country with his money, just continue raising taxes. Then ask yourself-
How's that workin' for me?
Why?
Because taxes there were increased to the point it was worthwhile for him to move. (Some lefty idiot in a comment at the link says "Leave the country. I'd be glad to get rid of a TRAITOR like You!")
Typical lefty...
Obviously no student of history.
For those of you too young to remember, or for those of you that have forgotten, ask yourself this...
Why did the Beatles end up residing in the United States?
If you think Rush Limbaugh can't/won't leave the country with his money, just continue raising taxes. Then ask yourself-
How's that workin' for me?
20 July 2009
"How Obama Lost Me"
Althouse, (by way of met-via-her-blog fiance Meade), finally admits she made a mistake.
I suspect there are many Obama voters feeling the same way who don't have the courage to admit it.
As usual, the comments there are more interesting than the post itself.
I suspect there are many Obama voters feeling the same way who don't have the courage to admit it.
As usual, the comments there are more interesting than the post itself.
Gadgets- Again
You're lookin' at an original "Palm Pilot". My son, one of those folks that likes to be on the cutting-edge, gadget-wise, bought one shortly after they came out. When it came time to jot down a note or add an address, he'd do it with a flourish that drew attention to himself and the fact that he was "with it". I'd smile, and when I needed to remember a name, phone number, or email address, I'd draw out my "Day-by-Day" pocket secretary and pen and do it manually. The only time I ever envied him his PDA was once when we were confused about which direction to turn in an unfamiliar city and he was able to bring up maps to give me directions.
Still, I always knew he could suffer a power failure or maybe be exposed to a powerful magnetic force that would instantly send his electronically stored information to the place where all lost electronic information goes, while the scribblings entered manually on my pocket secretary would be there when I needed it.
When the original "Kindle" came out I thought, "What an interesting idea. I'll watch and see how this technology unfolds." I like reading books and the possibility of having access to thousands of them in addition to newspapers and blogs via this paperbook-size instrument was worth my attention. But reviews of the original Kindle indicated it had a poor display, and function keys needed to be more user friendly.
Then came the Kindle II. Folks who had used both devices sang its praises, saying it had a much improved display and the device was more easy to use. I was just about ready to fork over the $$$$$ when this George Orwell fiasco hit the news. Imagine being one of the customers who was in the middle of reading "1984", finding the book you had bought via the Kindle had suddenly disappeared from your library!
What a PR disaster for Amazon! It's gonna be interesting to see how they try to recover the confidence of present customers and those of us considering the purchase of the Kindle II. For the time being I'll use my dollars to buy books I can smell and feel while I turn the pages.
My concerns about the original PDA still apply to the Kindle... original or new and improved. It's neat stuff, but are the potential problems worth the cost and the difficulty of learning how to use it properly? This incident just adds more doubt to the Luddites among us.
Of course, regular readers know the old way of storing information isn't foolproof either...
Data entered manually in my pocket secretary was also pretty effectively erased!
19 July 2009
The New "Jackie O"
I've always admired self-confidence...She certainly is a trend-setter, isn't she?
18 July 2009
Free Speech?
It's become so obvious, few even expend the energy to argue the point...
Our media leans dramatically to the left. Dan Rather's lies were accepted at face value until Charles Johnson exposed them, thank God.
Obama's thugs show up at radio stations to threaten those that opposed him.
Black Panthers with night sticks "maintain order" in front of polling booths.
Now there's this.
At what point do we start considering a conspiracy?
(Just a joke folks... I think.)
If you're having trouble with the link above, try this one.
Our media leans dramatically to the left. Dan Rather's lies were accepted at face value until Charles Johnson exposed them, thank God.
Obama's thugs show up at radio stations to threaten those that opposed him.
Black Panthers with night sticks "maintain order" in front of polling booths.
Now there's this.
At what point do we start considering a conspiracy?
(Just a joke folks... I think.)
If you're having trouble with the link above, try this one.
17 July 2009
Weird Al, Just For Fun
Fun? Definitely.
Ingenious? Yes.
Spelling? Not so good.
Still, if this doesn't make ya smile, there's sumpin' wrong with ya!
Ingenious? Yes.
Spelling? Not so good.
Still, if this doesn't make ya smile, there's sumpin' wrong with ya!
16 July 2009
Universal Health Care
As a lifetime member of the NRA I have always said I'd be in favor of gun control, so long as I was the one in charge of the program. I do not want Nancy Pelosi to be "The Decider". Current trends seem to indicate we've gotten over the hump insofar as guns are concerned...
Seems more folks now realize the truth in the saying, "When guns are outlawed, only outlaws will have guns."
Now we see the big push for Universal Health Care. And time is of the essence...
We MUST pass this bill before the end of August, no matter how terrible the details might prove to be.
Bruce McQuain of QandO states my fears exactly...
Do you want Madame Speaker deciding whether you are worthy of a kidney transplant?
I don't.
Go read Bruce's post and see what you think.
Seems more folks now realize the truth in the saying, "When guns are outlawed, only outlaws will have guns."
Now we see the big push for Universal Health Care. And time is of the essence...
We MUST pass this bill before the end of August, no matter how terrible the details might prove to be.
Bruce McQuain of QandO states my fears exactly...
Do you want Madame Speaker deciding whether you are worthy of a kidney transplant?
I don't.
Go read Bruce's post and see what you think.
Christians And Michael Jackson
Yeah you're right, I said I wouldn't do it.
I'm gonna renege on my "No comment on Michael Jackson" statement.
So sue me.
As a Viet Nam Veteran and member of the "Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy", I get lots of forwards from fellow conspirators. Sometimes that's good. Most of the time it's irritating because it means I'll get the same ^&$@#% message from nine different people. For the last few days the "Forward Du Jour" has been one that compared five of our brave warriors named "Jackson" and the way their combat deaths have been handled by our news media to the reportage of everything MJ. There is no question we must honor our brave warriors who have given all to preserve our freedoms... that is not my intention and is not the point here.
There also can be no justification for the way we have been force-fed Michael Jackson 24/7 over the last several days. But remember, the news has not been good for President(?) Obama and his administration, and his huge cheering section wants no part of having to tell us the truth, which would reveal what a bunch of fools we were to believe in their faulty investigative reporting...
(I'm sorry... WHAT INVESTIGATIVE REPORTING?!)
This week I received the Jackson Soldiers/Michael Jackson comparison via email from a number of friends, some of which were Christian Brothers and Sisters. I'm at once surprised and saddened by anyone complaining about the media coverage...
Don't like it? Turn the damned TV/Radio off for heaven's sake!
But I realized, with my Christian friends, it might be a good moment for us to re-focus on "WWJD"?
To that extent I sent this note via email to one of my friends, the title of this post in the subject line:
"They call me Legion, for I am many."
I've been pretty amazed at the reaction of many to Michael Jackson's death.
I'm glad I wasn't Michael Jackson, aren't you? Mentally and possibly physically abused as a child, he apparently wasn't allowed to play with others his age because he "might hurt himself" and be unable to perform. Once famous, much like Elvis, he was trapped in a "Twilight Zone" world by his celebrity. Surrounded by folks desirous of catering to his every need, he had no true friends to stand up and tell him he was headed down a dangerous path. I have no argument with those that claim he was imperfect...
We all fall short of the goals Christ set before us.
I too have made unkind jokes about MJ in the past. Still, I'm now saddened by his death and by the loss of "what might have been". The loss of every fighting man and woman saddens me...
It's easy to see how their deaths are due to them having taken a righteous path...
Did Michael Jackson even have that option?
I'd like to gently nudge those calling him a "Villain" to reconsider their thoughts. He was consumed by demons we cannot even imagine. We should be thanking God for our health daily, both physical and mental.
Rest in peace Michael Jackson.
As this email correspondence indicates, you brought me DECADES of pleasure during your too-short life!
And (Christian Sister), don't take this nudge wrong...
It's my gentle way of "standing up" and being a friend.
(Greybeard)
I'm gonna renege on my "No comment on Michael Jackson" statement.
So sue me.
As a Viet Nam Veteran and member of the "Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy", I get lots of forwards from fellow conspirators. Sometimes that's good. Most of the time it's irritating because it means I'll get the same ^&$@#% message from nine different people. For the last few days the "Forward Du Jour" has been one that compared five of our brave warriors named "Jackson" and the way their combat deaths have been handled by our news media to the reportage of everything MJ. There is no question we must honor our brave warriors who have given all to preserve our freedoms... that is not my intention and is not the point here.
There also can be no justification for the way we have been force-fed Michael Jackson 24/7 over the last several days. But remember, the news has not been good for President(?) Obama and his administration, and his huge cheering section wants no part of having to tell us the truth, which would reveal what a bunch of fools we were to believe in their faulty investigative reporting...
(I'm sorry... WHAT INVESTIGATIVE REPORTING?!)
This week I received the Jackson Soldiers/Michael Jackson comparison via email from a number of friends, some of which were Christian Brothers and Sisters. I'm at once surprised and saddened by anyone complaining about the media coverage...
Don't like it? Turn the damned TV/Radio off for heaven's sake!
But I realized, with my Christian friends, it might be a good moment for us to re-focus on "WWJD"?
To that extent I sent this note via email to one of my friends, the title of this post in the subject line:
"They call me Legion, for I am many."
I've been pretty amazed at the reaction of many to Michael Jackson's death.
I'm glad I wasn't Michael Jackson, aren't you? Mentally and possibly physically abused as a child, he apparently wasn't allowed to play with others his age because he "might hurt himself" and be unable to perform. Once famous, much like Elvis, he was trapped in a "Twilight Zone" world by his celebrity. Surrounded by folks desirous of catering to his every need, he had no true friends to stand up and tell him he was headed down a dangerous path. I have no argument with those that claim he was imperfect...
We all fall short of the goals Christ set before us.
I too have made unkind jokes about MJ in the past. Still, I'm now saddened by his death and by the loss of "what might have been". The loss of every fighting man and woman saddens me...
It's easy to see how their deaths are due to them having taken a righteous path...
Did Michael Jackson even have that option?
I'd like to gently nudge those calling him a "Villain" to reconsider their thoughts. He was consumed by demons we cannot even imagine. We should be thanking God for our health daily, both physical and mental.
Rest in peace Michael Jackson.
As this email correspondence indicates, you brought me DECADES of pleasure during your too-short life!
And (Christian Sister), don't take this nudge wrong...
It's my gentle way of "standing up" and being a friend.
(Greybeard)
14 July 2009
The Birth Certificate, AGAIN!
Seems to me, this would be so easy to resolve...
This is what, the third time this has happened? Fourth? Fifth?
Why not make it go away?
(Answer... SOMETHING STINKS HERE.)
Andrea also has a little fun with the subject.
UPDATE: 15 July, 0100 hours-
There are now 265 comments at the "Just One Minute" post, some of them quite penetrating. If you have the time, it's educational.
(307 Comments at 1100 hours!)
This is what, the third time this has happened? Fourth? Fifth?
Why not make it go away?
(Answer... SOMETHING STINKS HERE.)
Andrea also has a little fun with the subject.
UPDATE: 15 July, 0100 hours-
There are now 265 comments at the "Just One Minute" post, some of them quite penetrating. If you have the time, it's educational.
(307 Comments at 1100 hours!)
13 July 2009
Oldies Radio
I enjoy old-time radio, to include shows like "Fibber Magee and Molly, "The Whistler", "The Fred Allen Show" and other shows from that era.
You too?
Put this link to good use.
You too?
Put this link to good use.
11 July 2009
So You Are... ?
Dan Quayle was an idiot.
George W. Bush was a buffoon.
Sarah Palin was incompetent and an airhead.
Republican leaders at the national level are all stupid, aren't they?!!
Can you think of a democrat that has similarly been "given the treatment" by our liberal media?
(And Joe Biden doesn't count. After all, that's "Just Joe bein' Joe... Ha Ha Ha!")
You allowed the media to spoon-feed you this "Hope and Change" mush without questioning the huge gaps in BHO's resume.
So if Dan Quayle's an idiot, GWB is a buffoon, and Sarah Palin is a lightweight, that makes you...
What?
George W. Bush was a buffoon.
Sarah Palin was incompetent and an airhead.
Republican leaders at the national level are all stupid, aren't they?!!
Can you think of a democrat that has similarly been "given the treatment" by our liberal media?
(And Joe Biden doesn't count. After all, that's "Just Joe bein' Joe... Ha Ha Ha!")
You allowed the media to spoon-feed you this "Hope and Change" mush without questioning the huge gaps in BHO's resume.
So if Dan Quayle's an idiot, GWB is a buffoon, and Sarah Palin is a lightweight, that makes you...
What?
10 July 2009
It's 3 O'Clock In The Morning
We never answer our telephone.
If you call us, expect to suffer through directions given by our answering machine about how to leave your message. We have been screening our calls this way since Big Bubba was a pup, and he's now 26. We tired long ago of saying NO! to telemarketers, and the proof is in the pudding...
Now most of the time the phone rings the caller hangs up as soon as the message starts playing.
When the phone rings at 3 A.M., there is little chance it will bring good news. Seems to me most calls at that hour fall into three categories-
It's a wrong number.
It's a drunk friend wanting to irritate you... (successfully)!
Someone in your life is hurting, or worse.
The phone rang in the wee hours and I was glad the machine was there to give us time to clear our heads...
"Leave us a message at the tone and we'll return your call as soon as possible. Beeeeep."
And I nearly sat bolt upright in bed when the first thing I heard was the sound of another beep...
The beep you hear on the phone when the call is being recorded.
"This is Trooper ******* with the State Police. Your mail carrier suggested I call you. "
I picked up the phone and sleepily said "This is Greybeard."
"Your neighbor, Doug ********* was killed on his way to work this morning and we have been trying to contact his wife, unsuccessfully. Do you have any idea how we can contact her?"
Oh my.
It's the Friday after Thanksgiving.
Doug and Cheryl have just had a baby and she had to take a part-time job at Wal-Mart.
"I think Cheryl may be working at Wal-Mart, putting out merchandise for Christmas sales."
"Can you accompany the Trooper to give her this news?"
My head says "NO, NO, NO... I don't want to do this."
But I know I must.
"Send the Trooper to pick me up. Call the manager at the Wal-Mart to let them know what is going on and to watch for us at the front door. I'll accompany the officer, but I won't give Cheryl this news... that'll be up to the Trooper."
The Trooper is a female and that is somehow comforting. We arrive at the store and find the manager at the door to give us entry. I ask about Cheryl's location and as the manager points in her direction I see Cheryl look up at the Trooper and me from a distance of 50 feet or so.
Like the 3 A.M. phone call, she knows no good can be coming her way, and before we reach her she slumps to the floor, sobbing.
Doug worked as a Guard at one of our State Correctional facilities. In the early hours he apparently fell asleep at the wheel and hit an abutment at highway speed. He was killed instantly.
Adding insult to injury, his wallet and watch were stolen before first responders arrived. So their jobs were made more difficult, trying to insure which next of kin to notify.
Who would do such a thing? Wouldn't you love to catch someone in the act of robbing a corpse?
Where's my Tazer?
If you call us, expect to suffer through directions given by our answering machine about how to leave your message. We have been screening our calls this way since Big Bubba was a pup, and he's now 26. We tired long ago of saying NO! to telemarketers, and the proof is in the pudding...
Now most of the time the phone rings the caller hangs up as soon as the message starts playing.
When the phone rings at 3 A.M., there is little chance it will bring good news. Seems to me most calls at that hour fall into three categories-
It's a wrong number.
It's a drunk friend wanting to irritate you... (successfully)!
Someone in your life is hurting, or worse.
The phone rang in the wee hours and I was glad the machine was there to give us time to clear our heads...
"Leave us a message at the tone and we'll return your call as soon as possible. Beeeeep."
And I nearly sat bolt upright in bed when the first thing I heard was the sound of another beep...
The beep you hear on the phone when the call is being recorded.
"This is Trooper ******* with the State Police. Your mail carrier suggested I call you. "
I picked up the phone and sleepily said "This is Greybeard."
"Your neighbor, Doug ********* was killed on his way to work this morning and we have been trying to contact his wife, unsuccessfully. Do you have any idea how we can contact her?"
Oh my.
It's the Friday after Thanksgiving.
Doug and Cheryl have just had a baby and she had to take a part-time job at Wal-Mart.
"I think Cheryl may be working at Wal-Mart, putting out merchandise for Christmas sales."
"Can you accompany the Trooper to give her this news?"
My head says "NO, NO, NO... I don't want to do this."
But I know I must.
"Send the Trooper to pick me up. Call the manager at the Wal-Mart to let them know what is going on and to watch for us at the front door. I'll accompany the officer, but I won't give Cheryl this news... that'll be up to the Trooper."
The Trooper is a female and that is somehow comforting. We arrive at the store and find the manager at the door to give us entry. I ask about Cheryl's location and as the manager points in her direction I see Cheryl look up at the Trooper and me from a distance of 50 feet or so.
Like the 3 A.M. phone call, she knows no good can be coming her way, and before we reach her she slumps to the floor, sobbing.
Doug worked as a Guard at one of our State Correctional facilities. In the early hours he apparently fell asleep at the wheel and hit an abutment at highway speed. He was killed instantly.
Adding insult to injury, his wallet and watch were stolen before first responders arrived. So their jobs were made more difficult, trying to insure which next of kin to notify.
Who would do such a thing? Wouldn't you love to catch someone in the act of robbing a corpse?
Where's my Tazer?
09 July 2009
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep!
Note to my fellow employee:
Your popcorn may actually be done before the smoke alarm sounds!
08 July 2009
Yes, It's Still The Economy, Stupid!
Every objective study I have seen has come to the conclusion the economy would now be in better shape had Bozama done nothing.
Please, Mr. President(?)...
DO NOTHING!
07 July 2009
F.O.D.
"F.O.D." stands for "Foreign Object Damage".
You may have seen videos of Sailors lined up shoulder to shoulder walking the deck of an aircraft carrier, searching for the tiniest scrap of F.O.D.
Although the typical flight line is too large to do that, Soldiers and Marines are constantly on the lookout for F.O.D. and are reminded that the tiniest scrap of metal can result in expensive and disastrous results on aircraft, and sometimes cause loss of life or limb.
Want to see F.O.D. in action? Take a look...
You may have seen videos of Sailors lined up shoulder to shoulder walking the deck of an aircraft carrier, searching for the tiniest scrap of F.O.D.
Although the typical flight line is too large to do that, Soldiers and Marines are constantly on the lookout for F.O.D. and are reminded that the tiniest scrap of metal can result in expensive and disastrous results on aircraft, and sometimes cause loss of life or limb.
Want to see F.O.D. in action? Take a look...
05 July 2009
Hopeless Change
I've tried.And I mean, REALLY tried.
But I failed.
I've been going to a Liberal Blogger's site frequently, reading and trying to see through her eyes. And in spite of the fact that I am confused, disgusted, and mostly angered by what I read there I have soldiered on, trying to get a glimpse of how "the other side" thinks.
It's impossible.
Black is white.
Day is night.
There is a "Bizzaro World" answer for any argument you present and the problem is, those on the left truly believe what they are saying.
I can't take it anymore. The contortions it takes to try to understand that kind of thought are just too fatiguing.
But ya know what troubles me most?
Rewarding failure...
Rewarding the negative.
I'm beginning to think we're irreconcilable, left and right.
And I'm amazed when I know they cannot do without us, those of us who are right, and they don't even realize it.
Where will the money they want to "spread around" come from if we decide we can't take this anymore? If we dig in our heels and say "ABSOLUTELY NO MORE!", who will pay Peggy Joseph's mortgage? Who'll put gasoline in her car's tank? Who will feed her children?
For what it's worth, liberals, this is the only way you survive the coming chaos:
Come to the realization that drug and alcohol detoxification programs work for one reason-
They force those with a problem to see it for what it is, and remove them from the source of their problem. They separate addicts from co-dependents.
They quit rewarding bad behavior.
Can we as a country do that?
I've tried logic. I've tried historical references. So far, nothing has worked, so I'm fearful for our future.
And I'm sorry to say, more and more I'm planning for a catastrophe.
01 July 2009
30 June 2009
Save The Polar Bears!
Those poor creatures!
Stranded. Starving. Helpless.
We've GOT to do SOMETHING!
So world experts decided to have a meeting and discuss the course to be taken to save these magnificent animals. That meeting will take place this week in Copenhagen. Dr. Mitchell Taylor, who has studied the animals in Canada and the Arctic for 30 years, planned to attend and share his expertise. But he has been denied a seat at the meeting...
It was decided his expert testimony would be "unhelpful".
Sorta makes ya wonder, doesn't it?
In the meantime, an investigation has been launched into the suppression of an EPA report suggesting that information on global warming is out of date and erroneous.
What's goin' on here?
Facts? We already have our minds made up...
WE DON'T NEED NO STINKING FACTS!
29 June 2009
Colonel Ken Reusser
Shot down in World War II.
Shot down in Korea.
Shot down in Viet Nam.
Used the propeller on his Corsair to destroy an enemy aircraft after his guns jammed.
Rest in peace Colonel Reusser, and thank you.
Shot down in Korea.
Shot down in Viet Nam.
Used the propeller on his Corsair to destroy an enemy aircraft after his guns jammed.
Rest in peace Colonel Reusser, and thank you.
Cabela's Update:
Yesterday I received this note via email:
Thank you for your recent order. We appreciate your shopping at Cabela's and hope that you had an enjoyable shopping experience.
I probably would not call it that...
"Interesting" would be a more appropriate term. But all-in-all I think Cabela's probably handled this situation fairly well, and I'll certainly consider ordering from them in the future.
I'll be making shooty noises in a day or two!
Thank you for your recent order. We appreciate your shopping at Cabela's and hope that you had an enjoyable shopping experience.
Products Ordered
- 1 of 21-6948 REMINGTON 30 CARBINE 110GR MC AMMO W/DRY BOX 30CARB 110GR MC1000B
- Shipped-06/26/09
I probably would not call it that...
"Interesting" would be a more appropriate term. But all-in-all I think Cabela's probably handled this situation fairly well, and I'll certainly consider ordering from them in the future.
I'll be making shooty noises in a day or two!
28 June 2009
Let The Moonwalking Begin
Beyond saying I'm saddened by his death I won't comment on the passing of Michael Jackson. But I'll now make a prediction:
When Elvis died, his estate experienced a windfall. Record sales rocketed. People lined up outside Graceland with fists-full of dollars. Elvis impersonators came out of the woodwork.
I suspect many young men are practicing the moonwalk today.
When Elvis died, his estate experienced a windfall. Record sales rocketed. People lined up outside Graceland with fists-full of dollars. Elvis impersonators came out of the woodwork.
I suspect many young men are practicing the moonwalk today.
27 June 2009
Charles Durning
Let's start with a great one, huh?
He has made the statement that great acting comes from listening.
I think one of the all-time greatest pieces of acting I ever saw was when this man didn't utter a word-
The scene is in "Tootsie", and Dustin Hoffman enters the bar where Durning sees him not "in drag" for the first time. The Charles Durning character, who has been a little sweet on "Tootsie", slowly comes to the realization that Hoffman is Tootsie, and that realization is told through Durning's facial expression. It truly is worth the cost of the rental to see these few seconds of the film!
Thanks to Camerapilot's recommendation I did a little research on this hero.
He's nearly unbelieveable...
Drafted at 21, in less than six months he finds himself in the first wave to hit Omaha Beach at Normandy. Surviving that assault, he's injured and hospitalized a few days later but recovers quickly and is released once again for duty, just in time for the "Battle of the Bulge"! There he is captured by the Germans and is one of the hundreds of captured G.I.'s forced out of trucks into an open field at Malmedy by the SS to be massacred by machine-gun. Durning is one of a handful that escapes successfully.
He is the recipient of the Silver Star and 3 Purple Hearts.
It is understatement to say I am awestruck.
You can read more about Charles Durning here and here.
22 June 2009
Camerapilot Comments
Friend "Camerapilot comments at my post "The List":
GB,
I have an idea I want to throw your way......
How about having a list of actors and directors that have served their country and held firm in their beliefs of the American way.
The list is long.
Thanks Jesse for your interest, and thanks for being one of the few to leave your thoughts now and then. I know your comment above to be true...
We've all seen the tributes to folks like Charles Durning, Don Adams, and other heroes now making their living in Hollywood.
My initial thought is not to start a list of non-traitorous Hollywood types, but to honor folks individually who have worked to keep us free and free the oppressed of the world. Reiterating, my post "The List" was to help others see the names of those folks aiding our enemies and helping them to kill our brave troops.
So for right now, there'll be no "Heroes of Hollywood" list. But I'll certainly consider highlighting those who have served so that the Hollywood idiots on "The List" can rub elbows with murderers and dictators.
GB,
I have an idea I want to throw your way......
How about having a list of actors and directors that have served their country and held firm in their beliefs of the American way.
The list is long.
Thanks Jesse for your interest, and thanks for being one of the few to leave your thoughts now and then. I know your comment above to be true...
We've all seen the tributes to folks like Charles Durning, Don Adams, and other heroes now making their living in Hollywood.
My initial thought is not to start a list of non-traitorous Hollywood types, but to honor folks individually who have worked to keep us free and free the oppressed of the world. Reiterating, my post "The List" was to help others see the names of those folks aiding our enemies and helping them to kill our brave troops.
So for right now, there'll be no "Heroes of Hollywood" list. But I'll certainly consider highlighting those who have served so that the Hollywood idiots on "The List" can rub elbows with murderers and dictators.
21 June 2009
Super Glue
After years of exhaustive study and consulting with other users
I have determined something with certainty-
If you want to glue fingers together, cyanoacrylate is your glue. For all other purposes it pretty much stinks. I just tried, for the fourth time, to re-attach my rear-view mirror with no success.
During the process I almost glued my index finger to my thumb.
Frustrating stuff.
I have determined something with certainty-
If you want to glue fingers together, cyanoacrylate is your glue. For all other purposes it pretty much stinks. I just tried, for the fourth time, to re-attach my rear-view mirror with no success.
During the process I almost glued my index finger to my thumb.
Frustrating stuff.
20 June 2009
Band Of Brothers
We're watching "Band Of Brothers" on "The History Channel". I've never seen the mini-series in its entirety, but it's obviously a quality piece, attempting to tell the story as true-to-life as possible.
One of the troops on the show is complaining about jumping out of an airplane while carrying his own weight in gear.
You may remember a few months ago I bought a weight vest to wear on our walks. It weighs 20 lbs., and Sara Jean has trouble lifting it. Finished with our 2-mile walk, I can definitely tell I've had a workout.
Our troops in Iraq patrol with some 70 pounds of water, weapon, and ammo, and they do this when the temperature is 120 degrees Fahrenheit.
Most folks these days can't carry their own weight on a 2-mile walk.
Our troops do it as a matter of course, knowing they may be fired upon.
God Bless them all.
The History Channel is running "Band Of Brothers" again tomorrow (Sunday), starting at 12:15 Eastern.
My Tivo is set... how 'bout yours?
One of the troops on the show is complaining about jumping out of an airplane while carrying his own weight in gear.
You may remember a few months ago I bought a weight vest to wear on our walks. It weighs 20 lbs., and Sara Jean has trouble lifting it. Finished with our 2-mile walk, I can definitely tell I've had a workout.
Our troops in Iraq patrol with some 70 pounds of water, weapon, and ammo, and they do this when the temperature is 120 degrees Fahrenheit.
Most folks these days can't carry their own weight on a 2-mile walk.
Our troops do it as a matter of course, knowing they may be fired upon.
God Bless them all.
The History Channel is running "Band Of Brothers" again tomorrow (Sunday), starting at 12:15 Eastern.
My Tivo is set... how 'bout yours?
19 June 2009
Perpetuum Jazzile
Slovenian.
And no, I never heard of 'em before either.
But I'll be watchin' for other stuff from 'em in the future.
I love this song. I bet you do too...
Volume up!
Hat tip- Boortz
And no, I never heard of 'em before either.
But I'll be watchin' for other stuff from 'em in the future.
I love this song. I bet you do too...
Volume up!
Hat tip- Boortz
17 June 2009
Pounding The Road, South
(Wherein I find I am much more comfortable with "Bible clinging, gun toting, Nascar fanatic Bubbas than I am with 'intellectual liberals'".)
Little sister had busted her butt trying to make it as convenient for me as possible. She actually asked what dates were best for me, then told everyone else when to show up. How can ya not love that? But my work schedule is still inhuman, and to attend meant getting off work one day, packing for the long drive that night, then getting up early enough the next morning to arrive at the site before dark.
The plan worked fine until it didn't.
I got up early, well rested. I decided to make an adventure of it, so I plugged the destination address into "Carmen the Garmin" and let her take me along the route she thought most efficient. The path Carmen chose was interesting...
About an hour from home she had me on roads I had never driven. But her chosen route was gonna avoid major cities and therefore shield me from Friday afternoon-evening traffic jams. Good for Carmen!
A little Interstate driving, then she turned me onto a U.S. Highway... not limited access, but two lanes on one side with a median dividing two lanes goin' the other way. Traffic is light most of the way... nonexistent at other times. Other than a stop light once every two or three hours, this is far preferable to bein' trapped in a slowly moving parking lot on an Interstate.
Five hours into the drive I'm in the deep South. It's 94 degrees outside and the humidity is high enough that just conversing at the gas pumps is enough exercise to start a trickle of water flowing down your backbone into your butt crack. Sara Jean has allowed me to drive her car on this trip because hers is the only car with functioning A/C and we expected these temps/humidity. The A/C sputters and quits.
"The best laid plans..."
I smirk at my bad fortune and roll the windows down. Oh well, soon the sun will be gone and the temps will be bearable.
I press on. The drive is easy because roads are good and traffic remains light. Half an hour later my eye is drawn to a red warning light in the center of the dash...
It's the battery discharge warning. We've had a lot of trouble with batteries in this car so I'm frustrated but not surprised to see this light. I start thinking about how I'll find my way to Wally World tomorrow to have this battery replaced- again. After a few minutes I notice something else... the car is harder to steer.
Uh-oh. Now, finally the equation is plain... 2+2=4. Air conditioning, power steering, battery discharging... the common thread is that all are run by belts attached to the engine's crankshaft. I've got belt problems. I'm an idiot. These belts are original equipment on this car with 133,000 miles on it. I should have replaced them long ago.
Now my mind races, considering my options. It's Friday evening. I'm 90 minutes from my destination and I have to turn my lights on. If I completely discharge the battery the engine will die and I'll be stuck wherever that happens. I've got to have new belts installed to continue. Where to do that?
In a tiny South Alabama town I stop for gas, lift the hood and confirm both belts are in pieces in my engine compartment. Bubba comes up in his pickup truck with his date sitting alongside and asks about my problem. When I tell him I'm 90 minutes from a family reunion he says, "Buy me a tank of gas and I'll drive you there." I'm amazed... he just offered to drive for three hours and cancel whatever plans he and his lady had for the evening! I thank him and decline his offer.
I go back and ask the station attendent if there is an auto parts store nearby and am directed to an "AutoZone" store just down the street. Perfect! I like AutoZone-
I can buy the belts and they'll loan me tools to install the belts there.
I pull into the AutoZone parking lot 15 minutes after they have closed. I know I can't go on, so I go back to the gas station and get directions to both motels in town, aware that at any point the battery may discharge completely. It's dark and I'm having to use my headlights. Both motels are displaying "no vacancy" signs. I cross my fingers, and the car starts again. I drive back to the AutoZone, roll the windows down, recline the seat, and shut the engine down for the evening. It's 9 P.M. and the store opens at 8 A.M..
It's clear so the night cools quickly. I fully expect the local constabulary to stop by in the wee hours to find out what the heck I'm doin' sitting in front of this store, but she/he's too busy...
I watch as she/he chases down a speeder and issues a ticket. Later I hear her/him zoom by with lights and siren, only to watch an ambulance follow 15 minutes later.
I wake at 6 A.M. feeling surprisingly rested, considering. I pour the last cup of coffee, now tepid, from my thermos. It's far better than nuthin'. The AutoZone manager shows up at 7 A.M., opens the door, then locks it behind him. I get out to stretch my legs, sipping my coffee, and he comes to the door and says "How can I help you?" When I explain my dilemma he opens early, sells me the belts, and hands me the tool I need to put them on.
Hood up again, I'm already sweating in the heat even though it's not yet 8 in the morning. I'm out of my league with this repair... the space available to install the belts is minimal, and I don't know how to adjust the idlers/tensioners to loosen them enough to fit the belts, then re-tighten them. A young black man walks up and asks about my problem and I tell him. He says, "Lemme help you." He quickly realizes he needs another wrench and obviously the store manager knows him 'cause he comes back out with wrench in hand. In 20 minutes my belts are installed properly. I pay him for his work and I'm on my way. The Air Conditioner blows cold air. The power steering works. The battery discharge light is gone. It's a beautiful day and I'm on my way to hug friends and loved ones.
This story will surprise only those that have never spent time in the South. I've experienced similar scenarios several times in my life. It's part of the reason I love the South and those that live there.
Can you imagine how this story would have unfolded in Chicago?
Differently, I think we'd all agree.
One quick observation that puzzled me:
I had occasion to drive through the tunnel that goes beneath Mobile Bay on I-10 this trip. Carmen continued to track my progress even when I was in the center of the tunnel, probably more than a hundred feet underground/water.
How'd she do that?
Little sister had busted her butt trying to make it as convenient for me as possible. She actually asked what dates were best for me, then told everyone else when to show up. How can ya not love that? But my work schedule is still inhuman, and to attend meant getting off work one day, packing for the long drive that night, then getting up early enough the next morning to arrive at the site before dark.
The plan worked fine until it didn't.
I got up early, well rested. I decided to make an adventure of it, so I plugged the destination address into "Carmen the Garmin" and let her take me along the route she thought most efficient. The path Carmen chose was interesting...
About an hour from home she had me on roads I had never driven. But her chosen route was gonna avoid major cities and therefore shield me from Friday afternoon-evening traffic jams. Good for Carmen!
A little Interstate driving, then she turned me onto a U.S. Highway... not limited access, but two lanes on one side with a median dividing two lanes goin' the other way. Traffic is light most of the way... nonexistent at other times. Other than a stop light once every two or three hours, this is far preferable to bein' trapped in a slowly moving parking lot on an Interstate.
Five hours into the drive I'm in the deep South. It's 94 degrees outside and the humidity is high enough that just conversing at the gas pumps is enough exercise to start a trickle of water flowing down your backbone into your butt crack. Sara Jean has allowed me to drive her car on this trip because hers is the only car with functioning A/C and we expected these temps/humidity. The A/C sputters and quits.
"The best laid plans..."
I smirk at my bad fortune and roll the windows down. Oh well, soon the sun will be gone and the temps will be bearable.
I press on. The drive is easy because roads are good and traffic remains light. Half an hour later my eye is drawn to a red warning light in the center of the dash...
It's the battery discharge warning. We've had a lot of trouble with batteries in this car so I'm frustrated but not surprised to see this light. I start thinking about how I'll find my way to Wally World tomorrow to have this battery replaced- again. After a few minutes I notice something else... the car is harder to steer.
Uh-oh. Now, finally the equation is plain... 2+2=4. Air conditioning, power steering, battery discharging... the common thread is that all are run by belts attached to the engine's crankshaft. I've got belt problems. I'm an idiot. These belts are original equipment on this car with 133,000 miles on it. I should have replaced them long ago.
Now my mind races, considering my options. It's Friday evening. I'm 90 minutes from my destination and I have to turn my lights on. If I completely discharge the battery the engine will die and I'll be stuck wherever that happens. I've got to have new belts installed to continue. Where to do that?
In a tiny South Alabama town I stop for gas, lift the hood and confirm both belts are in pieces in my engine compartment. Bubba comes up in his pickup truck with his date sitting alongside and asks about my problem. When I tell him I'm 90 minutes from a family reunion he says, "Buy me a tank of gas and I'll drive you there." I'm amazed... he just offered to drive for three hours and cancel whatever plans he and his lady had for the evening! I thank him and decline his offer.
I go back and ask the station attendent if there is an auto parts store nearby and am directed to an "AutoZone" store just down the street. Perfect! I like AutoZone-
I can buy the belts and they'll loan me tools to install the belts there.
I pull into the AutoZone parking lot 15 minutes after they have closed. I know I can't go on, so I go back to the gas station and get directions to both motels in town, aware that at any point the battery may discharge completely. It's dark and I'm having to use my headlights. Both motels are displaying "no vacancy" signs. I cross my fingers, and the car starts again. I drive back to the AutoZone, roll the windows down, recline the seat, and shut the engine down for the evening. It's 9 P.M. and the store opens at 8 A.M..
It's clear so the night cools quickly. I fully expect the local constabulary to stop by in the wee hours to find out what the heck I'm doin' sitting in front of this store, but she/he's too busy...
I watch as she/he chases down a speeder and issues a ticket. Later I hear her/him zoom by with lights and siren, only to watch an ambulance follow 15 minutes later.
I wake at 6 A.M. feeling surprisingly rested, considering. I pour the last cup of coffee, now tepid, from my thermos. It's far better than nuthin'. The AutoZone manager shows up at 7 A.M., opens the door, then locks it behind him. I get out to stretch my legs, sipping my coffee, and he comes to the door and says "How can I help you?" When I explain my dilemma he opens early, sells me the belts, and hands me the tool I need to put them on.
Hood up again, I'm already sweating in the heat even though it's not yet 8 in the morning. I'm out of my league with this repair... the space available to install the belts is minimal, and I don't know how to adjust the idlers/tensioners to loosen them enough to fit the belts, then re-tighten them. A young black man walks up and asks about my problem and I tell him. He says, "Lemme help you." He quickly realizes he needs another wrench and obviously the store manager knows him 'cause he comes back out with wrench in hand. In 20 minutes my belts are installed properly. I pay him for his work and I'm on my way. The Air Conditioner blows cold air. The power steering works. The battery discharge light is gone. It's a beautiful day and I'm on my way to hug friends and loved ones.
This story will surprise only those that have never spent time in the South. I've experienced similar scenarios several times in my life. It's part of the reason I love the South and those that live there.
Can you imagine how this story would have unfolded in Chicago?
Differently, I think we'd all agree.
One quick observation that puzzled me:
I had occasion to drive through the tunnel that goes beneath Mobile Bay on I-10 this trip. Carmen continued to track my progress even when I was in the center of the tunnel, probably more than a hundred feet underground/water.
How'd she do that?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)