Rich vs. Poor.
Blacks vs. Whites
Hispanics vs. Whites.
Hispanics vs. Vietnamese.
Business vs. Government.
The U.S.A. vs. the World.
This administration has just about all the "stirrable" pots stirred.
Did I miss any?
Can you think of a time in history when the Nation was more divided?
24 September 2010
22 September 2010
21 September 2010
"Sumdood" In Europe Nails It-
A quote from a European who is now personally experiencing "Social Democracy" there...
"The danger to America is not Barack Obama but a citizenry capable of entrusting a man like him with the presidency. It will be easier to limit and undo the follies of an Obama presidency than to restore the necessary common sense and good judgment to an electorate willing to have such a man for their president."
And that is what fills my heart with sadness.
Loved ones I thought were perceptive voted for this guy.
Friends I thought had higher than average intelligence voted for this guy.
Now they are SHOCKED!
SHOCKED at the path he has taken the country down.
(At least they have a clue. Some are still trying to defend his Marxism as best for the country.)
{Sigh.}
"The danger to America is not Barack Obama but a citizenry capable of entrusting a man like him with the presidency. It will be easier to limit and undo the follies of an Obama presidency than to restore the necessary common sense and good judgment to an electorate willing to have such a man for their president."
And that is what fills my heart with sadness.
Loved ones I thought were perceptive voted for this guy.
Friends I thought had higher than average intelligence voted for this guy.
Now they are SHOCKED!
SHOCKED at the path he has taken the country down.
(At least they have a clue. Some are still trying to defend his Marxism as best for the country.)
{Sigh.}
20 September 2010
"My Trip To Al-Qaeda"
19 September 2010
Two-Faced
We're onto 'em. (Well, many of us anyway.)
More and more, we've begun to have our eyes opened to the fact we're playing a game with Muslims, whose value system is totally different from ours. Lying? To a Muslim, lying is only a sin if it's done to another Muslim.
Heck, it's not a sin even then if it furthers the goal of striving toward the new Caliphate and the 12th Imam. What's MOST interesting to me is surveying who has seen the light, and who has not. Seems to me, the folks who haven't a clue are those who are most rabidly anti-Christian. While trying to seem like they're anti-religion, they know it's perfectly safe to attack benign Christians, and they do it with impunity.
Women? Ha! "Peace loving" women are the worst, and by appeasing women-hating Muslims, are gonna be the death of us!
But will they express horror at the fact that Dearborn Michigan seems to now be ruled by Sharia law?
Surely you jest! Only the trouble-making Christians seem to be pointing out the double standard there.
Some years ago I flew an AStar for a company that volunteered that aircraft for use by powerful city, State, and National politicians who could "scratch the company's back". I'd ferry these pols from one campaign or speaking event to another, and got to watch them "up close and personal".
It was amazing to watch them work a crowd, smiling and shaking hands with one constituent and agreeing that we needed to fix a problem by working to remove "A" and install "B",
then working another part of the room and promising another constituent that he would do everything within his power to insure "B" takes precedence over "A".
Politicians...
Prostitutes.
Bald-faced liars.
About a year ago I realized I was passively doing much the same thing...
Socially I would sit and listen to some idiot mouth off about current events and have his facts completely wrong, and I'd bite my tongue and nod my head with a smile, trying to avoid embarrassing the fool and making others around us uncomfortable.
And I watched in horror as my world was slowly being destroyed.
Last year I made the decision I had had enough. I was no longer gonna sit and suffer fools easily. I was gonna start my own one man education process, (and open the door for others to prove me wrong if that was the case). A little over a year has transpired, and you know what?
IT'S BEEN LIBERATING!
I no longer feel dirty. I no longer feel ashamed of myself.
And the factor I never considered when I set out on this quest?
Fools have a tendency to avoid me, so there is much less stress in my life.
Do you like what's happening in your world?
What are you doing about it?
Do folks sit and "talk smack" and assume you agree with them because you're smiling, nodding, and biting your tongue?
How's your blood pressure?
Take my recommendation and see if you don't feel the chains fall away...
Let fools know you're mad as Hell, and you're not gonna take it anymore!
Then stop by and let me know how your quality of life has changed.
Good luck!
More and more, we've begun to have our eyes opened to the fact we're playing a game with Muslims, whose value system is totally different from ours. Lying? To a Muslim, lying is only a sin if it's done to another Muslim.
Heck, it's not a sin even then if it furthers the goal of striving toward the new Caliphate and the 12th Imam. What's MOST interesting to me is surveying who has seen the light, and who has not. Seems to me, the folks who haven't a clue are those who are most rabidly anti-Christian. While trying to seem like they're anti-religion, they know it's perfectly safe to attack benign Christians, and they do it with impunity.
Women? Ha! "Peace loving" women are the worst, and by appeasing women-hating Muslims, are gonna be the death of us!
But will they express horror at the fact that Dearborn Michigan seems to now be ruled by Sharia law?
Surely you jest! Only the trouble-making Christians seem to be pointing out the double standard there.
Some years ago I flew an AStar for a company that volunteered that aircraft for use by powerful city, State, and National politicians who could "scratch the company's back". I'd ferry these pols from one campaign or speaking event to another, and got to watch them "up close and personal".
It was amazing to watch them work a crowd, smiling and shaking hands with one constituent and agreeing that we needed to fix a problem by working to remove "A" and install "B",
then working another part of the room and promising another constituent that he would do everything within his power to insure "B" takes precedence over "A".
Politicians...
Prostitutes.
Bald-faced liars.
About a year ago I realized I was passively doing much the same thing...
Socially I would sit and listen to some idiot mouth off about current events and have his facts completely wrong, and I'd bite my tongue and nod my head with a smile, trying to avoid embarrassing the fool and making others around us uncomfortable.
And I watched in horror as my world was slowly being destroyed.
Last year I made the decision I had had enough. I was no longer gonna sit and suffer fools easily. I was gonna start my own one man education process, (and open the door for others to prove me wrong if that was the case). A little over a year has transpired, and you know what?
IT'S BEEN LIBERATING!
I no longer feel dirty. I no longer feel ashamed of myself.
And the factor I never considered when I set out on this quest?
Fools have a tendency to avoid me, so there is much less stress in my life.
Do you like what's happening in your world?
What are you doing about it?
Do folks sit and "talk smack" and assume you agree with them because you're smiling, nodding, and biting your tongue?
How's your blood pressure?
Take my recommendation and see if you don't feel the chains fall away...
Let fools know you're mad as Hell, and you're not gonna take it anymore!
Then stop by and let me know how your quality of life has changed.
Good luck!
18 September 2010
Engine Configuration, Torque, and Horsepower
You may recall, when I started searching for a motorcycle to put in my garage, I was interested mainly in a bike to use on my commute to and from work. Secondarily, I thought it might be nice if it was big enough and comfortable enough for Sara Jean to hop on and ride along every now and then. Because of an experience I had in the rain several years ago, I made the decision that any bike I buy will either be driven by a belt or a driveshaft. That's not so limiting today as it was a few years ago... most Harleys are belt driven, and most other major manufacturers build at least one shaft-driven bike.
The other consideration in this quest was engine configuration...
For me, bikes with one cylinder vibrate too much for long trips. Some two-cylinder machines vibrate badly, some are smoother. Bikes with three cylinders or more vibrate less, but then you start encountering more complexity and more costs when repairs or preventive maintenance are needed. I started studying different bikes and the options they offered.
My first real motorcycle was a Harley Davidson "Sprint", powered by a single-cylinder 250cc engine. As you can see in the photo at the link, the piston and cylinder were horizontal on this engine. The bike vibrated so badly it fractured the mounting holes on the license plate as I was riding one day. I was lucky that the plate bounced on the pavement a couple times and made a clattering noise so I could go retrieve it. I mounted it upside down with the holes on the bottom of the plate and it fractured and left the bike again, this time making no noise at all. I had to go to the DMV and get a replacement plate, which I mounted on a rubber blanket to resolve the problem.
In High School I rode and loved the Harley Davidson Sportster. At the time, it was sort of the "Sport Bike" in Harley's corral... smaller than their big bikes, but powerful enough to out-accelerate almost everything else on the road.
New Sportsters look like those old bikes but are much improved... they vibrate less, don't leak oil, and you no longer have to risk injury by kicking a lever to bring the engine to life. As you can see in the linked photo, the Sportster has a two-cylinder engine in the form of a "V", with a 45 degree angle between the two cylinders. Old Sportsters vibrated just about as badly as the single-cylinder Sprint. Today's Sportster engines have counterbalancers to negate some of the vibration.
Now I'm gonna rattle on about stuff I only partially understand...
Apparently "felt" vibration in engines is the result of the weight of lots of moving parts rapidly changing direction in the engine. The main vibration you feel is called a "primary vibration". There is also a "secondary vibration" that you can feel. There are tertiary vibrations and so on, but those dwindle to the point of not being discernible. Engine manufacturers worry mainly about primary and secondary vibrations.
Pizza Bike has a two-cylinder V-Twin engine. The V between the cylinders is measured at 90 degrees, so some actually refer to this engine, (and a similar configuration on Ducatis and Aprilias) as "L" twins. These bikes have virtually no primary vibration. There is some secondary vibration that can be felt, but it is MUCH less than the vibration felt on say, a Harley.
The other bike I was considering was the BMW horizontally-opposed twin. Called the "Boxer" engine, vibration is mostly canceled out on this engine because the two pistons move in equal and opposite directions. Here too, there are secondary and other vibrations, but those are minor in nature.
For me it boiled down to this:
I've never owned a BMW or Moto Guzzi. Both bikes have "shaft" final drive systems.
I like the sound of the V-twin over the opposed twin.
My choice was made. Time will tell if my decision was a good one.
But my studies also turned up a fact that I need someone to help me understand.
The following illustrations are horsepower/torque charts, the first is for an Aprilia motorcycle, the second is for a new Corvette. Take a quick look at both:
Now look again at where the torque curve meets the horsepower curve on both charts-
5250 rpm!
Apparently all engines that turn at more than 5250 rpm will have curves that mate up there.
Interesting.
I need someone to explain the "What" and "Why" of that phenomenon, please!
The other consideration in this quest was engine configuration...
For me, bikes with one cylinder vibrate too much for long trips. Some two-cylinder machines vibrate badly, some are smoother. Bikes with three cylinders or more vibrate less, but then you start encountering more complexity and more costs when repairs or preventive maintenance are needed. I started studying different bikes and the options they offered.
My first real motorcycle was a Harley Davidson "Sprint", powered by a single-cylinder 250cc engine. As you can see in the photo at the link, the piston and cylinder were horizontal on this engine. The bike vibrated so badly it fractured the mounting holes on the license plate as I was riding one day. I was lucky that the plate bounced on the pavement a couple times and made a clattering noise so I could go retrieve it. I mounted it upside down with the holes on the bottom of the plate and it fractured and left the bike again, this time making no noise at all. I had to go to the DMV and get a replacement plate, which I mounted on a rubber blanket to resolve the problem.
In High School I rode and loved the Harley Davidson Sportster. At the time, it was sort of the "Sport Bike" in Harley's corral... smaller than their big bikes, but powerful enough to out-accelerate almost everything else on the road.
New Sportsters look like those old bikes but are much improved... they vibrate less, don't leak oil, and you no longer have to risk injury by kicking a lever to bring the engine to life. As you can see in the linked photo, the Sportster has a two-cylinder engine in the form of a "V", with a 45 degree angle between the two cylinders. Old Sportsters vibrated just about as badly as the single-cylinder Sprint. Today's Sportster engines have counterbalancers to negate some of the vibration.
Now I'm gonna rattle on about stuff I only partially understand...
Apparently "felt" vibration in engines is the result of the weight of lots of moving parts rapidly changing direction in the engine. The main vibration you feel is called a "primary vibration". There is also a "secondary vibration" that you can feel. There are tertiary vibrations and so on, but those dwindle to the point of not being discernible. Engine manufacturers worry mainly about primary and secondary vibrations.
Pizza Bike has a two-cylinder V-Twin engine. The V between the cylinders is measured at 90 degrees, so some actually refer to this engine, (and a similar configuration on Ducatis and Aprilias) as "L" twins. These bikes have virtually no primary vibration. There is some secondary vibration that can be felt, but it is MUCH less than the vibration felt on say, a Harley.
The other bike I was considering was the BMW horizontally-opposed twin. Called the "Boxer" engine, vibration is mostly canceled out on this engine because the two pistons move in equal and opposite directions. Here too, there are secondary and other vibrations, but those are minor in nature.
For me it boiled down to this:
I've never owned a BMW or Moto Guzzi. Both bikes have "shaft" final drive systems.
I like the sound of the V-twin over the opposed twin.
My choice was made. Time will tell if my decision was a good one.
But my studies also turned up a fact that I need someone to help me understand.
The following illustrations are horsepower/torque charts, the first is for an Aprilia motorcycle, the second is for a new Corvette. Take a quick look at both:
Now look again at where the torque curve meets the horsepower curve on both charts-
5250 rpm!
Apparently all engines that turn at more than 5250 rpm will have curves that mate up there.
Interesting.
I need someone to explain the "What" and "Why" of that phenomenon, please!
17 September 2010
Freckles
"Freckles are skin damage" he said.
"Nah, they're too cute to be skin damage", said I.
"Ever date a gal with freckles?" he asked.
"Sure", I responded.
"She have freckles on her butt?"
Freckles are skin damage.
(But I still love 'em.)
"Nah, they're too cute to be skin damage", said I.
"Ever date a gal with freckles?" he asked.
"Sure", I responded.
"She have freckles on her butt?"
Freckles are skin damage.
(But I still love 'em.)
16 September 2010
Precious Metals- Keep Your Options Open
The person in that picture is holding $1200 of gold in the center of his/her palm.
Obviously, anyone going out on a limb trying to predict the future is exactly that...
Out on a limb.
So take anything you read here under consideration and do your own research.
A year ago I took a considerable position in silver, and I took physical possession of the purchase. I went back and looked at my last precious metals report, which I posted on 15 January, and found this:
Gold was $1131.00 per ounce.
Silver closed that day at $18.42 per ounce.
The close on both metals today was:
Gold- $1274.00
Silver- $20.76
That means my position in silver is now worth almost 25% more than my purchase price one year ago.
And I truly believe this ride is just beginning.
Be prepared.
15 September 2010
By Popular Demand, Pizza Bike !
Things have changed dramatically since I quit riding 30 years ago-
A 1,000 cc. bike was considered a "large" bike then.
Now bikes half again that size are commonplace.
Blogfriend Tim Frazier has a Triumph displacing 2,300 cc's!
But Pizza Bike is actually bigger than I thought I wanted.
As with cars, bigger engines get poorer gas mileage.
I'm still hoping driven responsibly, Pizza Bike will get 50 mpg.
Regularly outings, (and more picture taking), will start in two weeks. I'll keep you posted on performance figures.
ABSQ !
In the Army we used to have a saying that we'd shout, (only half-seriously)...
"Do SOMETHING, even if it's wrong!"
The point bein', if you set off on a path that's wrong you can study results and realize it pretty quickly, then set a new course to improve the situation.
In our National elections for years now it seems we've had a choice between BAD, and HORRIBLE.
Al Gore?!!!
John ($^*~_$#@) KERRY?!!!!!!
How is it those two lying sacks of fecal material end up at the head of a ticket?
This morning I'm listening to Karl Rove lamenting Christine O'Donnell's win in Delaware as a terrible thing because he thinks that seat now will certainly be won by Democrats. I think Karl Rove is, in many ways, brilliant.
But I also think he's wrong in this case.
Republicans...
Conservatives...
Independents...
I can hear them all shouting...
"Do SOMETHING, even if it's wrong!"
It's time for REAL Hope and Change.
(Oh, and ABSQ? "Anything but the status quo!")
"Do SOMETHING, even if it's wrong!"
The point bein', if you set off on a path that's wrong you can study results and realize it pretty quickly, then set a new course to improve the situation.
In our National elections for years now it seems we've had a choice between BAD, and HORRIBLE.
Al Gore?!!!
John ($^*~_$#@) KERRY?!!!!!!
How is it those two lying sacks of fecal material end up at the head of a ticket?
This morning I'm listening to Karl Rove lamenting Christine O'Donnell's win in Delaware as a terrible thing because he thinks that seat now will certainly be won by Democrats. I think Karl Rove is, in many ways, brilliant.
But I also think he's wrong in this case.
Republicans...
Conservatives...
Independents...
I can hear them all shouting...
"Do SOMETHING, even if it's wrong!"
It's time for REAL Hope and Change.
(Oh, and ABSQ? "Anything but the status quo!")
Gear!
Where to begin here?
I've actually seen folks out riding like those in the photo above. And I've also loaded victims of both motorcycle and car accidents who have found themselves sliding down the road at speeds MUCH faster than you can run. It's painful just lookin' at those wounds.
Gimme a chance to do a practical exercise with the gal in that picture...
Nevermind the idiot at the controls of the bike. He's improperly dressed too, but if he falls he has no one to blame but himself. He's also responsible for her well-being and he's failed miserably, hasn't he?
I'd like to talk to her and give her a piece of coarse sandpaper.
You wouldn't take a piece of heavy grit sandpaper and scrub your thigh with it for several seconds, would you? But the effect of falling off that bike onto the pavement will be several orders of magnitude worse than that. Falling off the bike at speed can scrub off flesh all the way to the bone...
And then bone begins to be ground off too.
Yes, I've seen it many, many times.
That's the chance those two are taking.
So yesterday we started preparing for our Fall "Pizza Bike" rides and went shopping for gear.
We heard of a store that has quality merchandise for discount prices and stopped there first. There we found a nice leather jacket with removable lining for Sara Jean. We also found a set of cute "Harley Davidson" branded lace-up boots at a surprising price. We bought matching reinforced leather gloves with zippered backs.
As we were making our way to the cash register one of the workers from the store who had seen our motorcycle gear said, "It's probably not a good time to go out right now."
"Why?"
"Because some lady just ran a red light in front of the store and clobbered a guy on a bike. His leg was up around his head."
Thanks for the warning.
Sure enough, driving out of the store we saw a Harley Davidson dresser alongside the road in the dying cockroach position. The ambulance with the critically injured dude was already on the way to the hospital and another ambulance was still attending to the gal that ran the light and struck him.
We drove on to the Harley shop where we bought two helmets, a full-face for me and an open face for SJ, and a flat shield to fit hers. SJ also found another pair of boots there... ($149.88!!)
"They're just SO cute!". (Of course they are!)
Her response gave me two thoughts:
1. I've created a monster.
2. At least she wasn't so put off by the horribly mangled Harley that she won't get on behind me.
I know, once again I'm rehashing here...
I can mitigate, but not completely eliminate the risk of riding. Riding like you're invisible is part of it. And protecting important body parts just makes good sense, doesn't it?
...Helmets to soften the blow to the skull.
...Protective jackets, gloves, heavy trousers, and boots to insure the first thing making contact with the industrial-grade sandpaper is not our flesh.
We've literally got it covered and are ready to go when I've got license in hand.
The gal (and guy) in the picture above?
(... Shakes head in amazement.)
I may meet 'em during my next shift.
You could easily read about 'em some day.
More information as I publish:
My company flew the guy involved in the accident I mentioned above.
He apparently wasn't wearing a helmet.
UPDATED UPDATE:
He died.
14 September 2010
An Anecdote Is The Antidote
Cheese food?
CHEESE FOOD?! What the H-E- double hockey sticks is that?
"Past-U-rized processed cheese food"!
If y'all have been on the internet as long as I have, you probably got the email some time ago 'bout how Kentucky Fried Chicken had found a way to birth chickens that, for all intents, looked like mis-shapened footballs...
All breasts, thighs, and drumsticks... and nothin' much else.
I think "cheese food" was probly born in the same labratory, just across the hall.
What IS cheese food?
YOU can't even tell me, can ya?!!
But I bet you're eatin' it!
Go open your ice box right now and pull out that stuff you're makin' greased-cheese sammiches with thinkin' it was "American Cheese", and take a look at what it says on the label.
Go on now! I'll wait 'til you get back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*********************************************
See!
It ain't what you thought, is it?!
You're eatin' somethin' you don't even know what it is!
Cheese food!
Well I refuse to eat something I can't begin to identify, and it's one of the reasons I have to go to Sam's Club...
Sam's big box is one of the few places I can find REAL American Cheese!
I buy a big ol' block of American Cheese 'bout the size of a loaf of bread... that sucker must weigh 12 pounds or so. We break it up into smaller portions and freeze most of it. But that way I know we're not eatin' something that some guy lookin' like Henry Waxman conjured up in a test tube, out in City of Industry, California!
We buy our milk at Sam's too. I bought six gallons of "Fat Free" milk yesterday and saved a buck on each gallon... paid for the 45 minute drive to Sam's with that purchase alone! One gallon went into the fridgidaire, and the others went into the freezer next to what was left of that big 'ol block of real cheese.
Of course we bought mass quantities of other things too... cereal, sugar, laundry soap.
And when ya finish checkin' out ya have to take your receipt to a person standing at the exit and show it to 'em to make sure you're not stealin' any cheese or anything.
Yesterday that checker-person was a young male, appeared to be about 18 or so, and if I had wanted to steal cheese he wouldn't have been able to stop me...
He was about the size of cousin Ziggy, ya know... little bitty guy.
When I walked up to 'im I smiled and said, "I want your job!"
He got a kinda confused look on his face and said, "Why?"
"Well, you get to meet and greet everyone comin' through the store, don't you? And we sorta have to have your permission to leave. You're a Bigshot!"
He shrugged and said, "Well, it's really not a great job."
I said, "Well, at your position, you COULD have fun...
You could point underneath the cart and shout real loud WHAT'S THIS?!!, like there's contraband under there or somethin', and scare the poo out of customers!"
He allowed as how he might upset his managers if he did that, and he needs to keep this job.
Stupid managers. They take the fun out of everything.
And they're also the type wantin' us to eat some nebulous football-shaped "chicken thing" and something called "processed cheese food".
They need to understand that a good joke or interesting story is what makes the world go 'round!
The whole world is just fallin' apart, ain't it?
CHEESE FOOD?! What the H-E- double hockey sticks is that?
"Past-U-rized processed cheese food"!
If y'all have been on the internet as long as I have, you probably got the email some time ago 'bout how Kentucky Fried Chicken had found a way to birth chickens that, for all intents, looked like mis-shapened footballs...
All breasts, thighs, and drumsticks... and nothin' much else.
I think "cheese food" was probly born in the same labratory, just across the hall.
What IS cheese food?
YOU can't even tell me, can ya?!!
But I bet you're eatin' it!
Go open your ice box right now and pull out that stuff you're makin' greased-cheese sammiches with thinkin' it was "American Cheese", and take a look at what it says on the label.
Go on now! I'll wait 'til you get back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
*********************************************
See!
It ain't what you thought, is it?!
You're eatin' somethin' you don't even know what it is!
Cheese food!
Well I refuse to eat something I can't begin to identify, and it's one of the reasons I have to go to Sam's Club...
Sam's big box is one of the few places I can find REAL American Cheese!
I buy a big ol' block of American Cheese 'bout the size of a loaf of bread... that sucker must weigh 12 pounds or so. We break it up into smaller portions and freeze most of it. But that way I know we're not eatin' something that some guy lookin' like Henry Waxman conjured up in a test tube, out in City of Industry, California!
We buy our milk at Sam's too. I bought six gallons of "Fat Free" milk yesterday and saved a buck on each gallon... paid for the 45 minute drive to Sam's with that purchase alone! One gallon went into the fridgidaire, and the others went into the freezer next to what was left of that big 'ol block of real cheese.
Of course we bought mass quantities of other things too... cereal, sugar, laundry soap.
And when ya finish checkin' out ya have to take your receipt to a person standing at the exit and show it to 'em to make sure you're not stealin' any cheese or anything.
Yesterday that checker-person was a young male, appeared to be about 18 or so, and if I had wanted to steal cheese he wouldn't have been able to stop me...
He was about the size of cousin Ziggy, ya know... little bitty guy.
When I walked up to 'im I smiled and said, "I want your job!"
He got a kinda confused look on his face and said, "Why?"
"Well, you get to meet and greet everyone comin' through the store, don't you? And we sorta have to have your permission to leave. You're a Bigshot!"
He shrugged and said, "Well, it's really not a great job."
I said, "Well, at your position, you COULD have fun...
You could point underneath the cart and shout real loud WHAT'S THIS?!!, like there's contraband under there or somethin', and scare the poo out of customers!"
He allowed as how he might upset his managers if he did that, and he needs to keep this job.
Stupid managers. They take the fun out of everything.
And they're also the type wantin' us to eat some nebulous football-shaped "chicken thing" and something called "processed cheese food".
They need to understand that a good joke or interesting story is what makes the world go 'round!
The whole world is just fallin' apart, ain't it?
13 September 2010
Temptation- I Was A Bad Boy.
The Lord made this day...
Rejoice in it!
Yesterday was one of those days.
Eighty degrees. No wind at all. Not a cloud in the sky.
Perfect.
There's this gorgeous motorcycle parked in the garage.
Sara Jean hasn't had the chance to find out if she likes riding on the thing.
It would be a perfect day for a "test" spin.
But remember? I have no motorcycle driver's license.
Pizza Bike is calling...
"C'mon! I haven't been on the road in weeks... lemme stretch my legs!"
"But I haven't ridden any distance in almost 30 years."
"Well, let's keep that from being 30 years and a day!"
To Sara Jean-
"Wanta go for a little ride?"
Without hesitation-
"Yes!"
We started off almost idling around our neighborhood, reaching all of 25 mph or so, and stopped to fill the tank with gas.
Filled to the brim, the pump indicated $9.28.
That's what I'm talkin' about!
"Let's go visit Chuck and Janet" she says.
That means getting out on the highway. Pizza Bike purred its approval.
The sun was warm, but the angle of the sun and the hint of coolness in the air indicated Autumn is knocking on the door. It REALLY was a perfect day!
Back in the corral, the tripmeter indicated we had traveled 84 miles.
And the fact we had broken the rules only contributed to the smiles on our faces.
The MSF course leading to my motorcycle operator's license is scheduled in two weeks.
Think we can resist the temptation to break the rules again?!!
Rejoice in it!
Yesterday was one of those days.
Eighty degrees. No wind at all. Not a cloud in the sky.
Perfect.
There's this gorgeous motorcycle parked in the garage.
Sara Jean hasn't had the chance to find out if she likes riding on the thing.
It would be a perfect day for a "test" spin.
But remember? I have no motorcycle driver's license.
Pizza Bike is calling...
"C'mon! I haven't been on the road in weeks... lemme stretch my legs!"
"But I haven't ridden any distance in almost 30 years."
"Well, let's keep that from being 30 years and a day!"
To Sara Jean-
"Wanta go for a little ride?"
Without hesitation-
"Yes!"
We started off almost idling around our neighborhood, reaching all of 25 mph or so, and stopped to fill the tank with gas.
Filled to the brim, the pump indicated $9.28.
That's what I'm talkin' about!
"Let's go visit Chuck and Janet" she says.
That means getting out on the highway. Pizza Bike purred its approval.
The sun was warm, but the angle of the sun and the hint of coolness in the air indicated Autumn is knocking on the door. It REALLY was a perfect day!
Back in the corral, the tripmeter indicated we had traveled 84 miles.
And the fact we had broken the rules only contributed to the smiles on our faces.
The MSF course leading to my motorcycle operator's license is scheduled in two weeks.
Think we can resist the temptation to break the rules again?!!
Finding Nemo
No, not that Nemo!
I was unaware of the incident until I read a comment to a post at OpFor about a living hero who will soon be awarded the Medal of Honor.
Nemo's story is extraordinary, and reason for me to issue my second "tissue may come in handy" alert of the week!
I was unaware of the incident until I read a comment to a post at OpFor about a living hero who will soon be awarded the Medal of Honor.
Nemo's story is extraordinary, and reason for me to issue my second "tissue may come in handy" alert of the week!
12 September 2010
I Needed An Uplifting-
And I found it at Andrea's place:
UPDATED:
Judging others not by the color of their skin, but by the quality of their character.
Wouldn't that be nice? It seems to me our present leadership has realized the power in keeping us divided... by political party, race, and class.
I don't watch the daily show because I resent the fact that too many "ignorant" people get ALL the news they view from Jon Stewart, David Letterman, or Steven Colbert, and they'll remain ignorant so long as that's the case.
But I think this clip is illustrative, both in how far we've come, how far we've regressed, and how far we yet have to go.
UPDATED:
Judging others not by the color of their skin, but by the quality of their character.
Wouldn't that be nice? It seems to me our present leadership has realized the power in keeping us divided... by political party, race, and class.
I don't watch the daily show because I resent the fact that too many "ignorant" people get ALL the news they view from Jon Stewart, David Letterman, or Steven Colbert, and they'll remain ignorant so long as that's the case.
But I think this clip is illustrative, both in how far we've come, how far we've regressed, and how far we yet have to go.
11 September 2010
9/11. The Unthinkable, Plus Nine Years.
I'll never forget. Neither should you.
And I just don't think I can do any better than my post of three years ago.
And I just don't think I can do any better than my post of three years ago.
10 September 2010
"The Norton Project"
I sent a link for this video to friends, then realized I was neglecting some pretty important friends
by not posting it here...
So I posted it here for YOU !
(Sixteen minutes, 18 seconds in length. A tissue might come in handy.)
Saw it at Doug Klassen's blog.
by not posting it here...
So I posted it here for YOU !
(Sixteen minutes, 18 seconds in length. A tissue might come in handy.)
Saw it at Doug Klassen's blog.
The Norton Project from Jamtron on Vimeo.
09 September 2010
On Tolerance-
The truth that some refuse to acknowledge:
"They came first for the Communists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.
Then they came for me
and by that time no one was left to speak up."
Martin Niemoller
"They came first for the Communists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.
Then they came for me
and by that time no one was left to speak up."
Martin Niemoller
08 September 2010
UAW Vs. UAW
When General Motors became Government Motors, I asked here-
"What will happen when the UAW owner of Government Motors has to a negotiate a contract with it's (UAW) union membership?"
That question has now become reality in my home town.
H/T Instapundit.
"What will happen when the UAW owner of Government Motors has to a negotiate a contract with it's (UAW) union membership?"
That question has now become reality in my home town.
H/T Instapundit.
"Pizza Bike"
Several of you have inquired, so it's time for a Moto Guzzi update. What with personal chats, Facebook status updates, personal emails, blogging, and comments at the blogs of others, I can't remember what I've said to whom.
So some of this will be rehash... too bad for those of you who bore easily.
I've promised pictures. I'll take some and post them as soon as I have the spare time and a fair-weather day to take 'em. Tonight I'm at work on my last night of eight in a row. I'll be off work tomorrow, then back at work Thursday night to cover a shift for one of our guys that has mandatory training that day. Then I'm off Friday, only to be back at work Saturday morning to cover another pilot's vacation. That's how my life has unfolded these last few months...
I've not had a chance to enjoy summer at all, and I resent that 'cause it's my favorite season.
But until I take and post actual pictures, my bike looks almost exactly like the one pictured above except the Moto Guzzi logo on the side of the fairing is a more brilliant and visible red. My bike is a '93 model, but there apparently wasn't much change in the Guzzi SPIII from '91 to '93.
It's been a long time since I've ridden. I sold my 1100cc Yamaha back in 1984 and haven't ridden at all, other than to take short test-rides on machines owned by friends. In the 25 years I did ride I never had any formal motorcycle training. I learned via word of mouth, watching others get hurt, or through the school of hard knocks. Through sheer luck, I never had a serious incident. An old ARMY buddy I used to ride with confided that he schedules himself for some sort of advanced training every two years, mostly to un-learn the bad habits he's picked up. I think that's smart, and know in those 25 years of riding I picked up lots of habits that could hurt me and anyone riding along. Right after I bought the bike I made reservations to attend the Motorcycle Safety Foundation Course. Filling out the form for the course I had to indicate alternative dates I could attend. When I checked the course schedule online, the indication was that the upcoming class was still open. I selected that date first, then selected the next date I could attend... a month away. A week before the date of the course I hoped to attend I got a note from the MSF folks...
The course was full on the date I wanted and I was locked into my alternate date. Oh well.
I went to the DMV and got the bike titled, got new tags for it and bolted them on. So now it sits in the garage mocking me... a thoroughbred with its nose in the air, ready to go whenever I'm capable. The last two weeks have been nearly perfect for riding. It's been tempting to go out and throw a leg over it and just go, but I haven't had time to buy helmets yet and I refuse to ride helmet-less. I'm trickle charging the battery because there's an electric clock on the instrument panel slowly discharging the battery.
The 2-1/2 day course is now 15 days away and cannot come soon enough. My plan is to have new helmets waiting to be used after I complete the course so we can let "Pizza Bike" stretch its legs immediately after I put the motorcycle driver's license in my wallet.
I've been surfing the internet to absorb anything Moto Guzzi related I can find. The brand's followers are an interesting bunch, freely agreeing the bike is not perfect, but extolling the machine's pluses and insisting it's a great all around bike. There's no shortage of forums with folks willing to share information about the bike's character, and most members of those forums would ride NOTHING other than a Moto Guzzi in spite of some obvious shortcomings,
(a dearth of dealers across this land being the biggest one).
Motorcycles, like automobiles, are compromises...
Like Cadillacs, Corvettes, and Jeeps...
Some are sporty and ungodly(!) fast but not comfortable for rides whether the distance is long or short. Some exhibit a visual and aural "attitude" and are comfortable cruising, but may fall short on comfort for riding really long distances. Some are set up to be ridden all day while protecting their riders from the elements, come what may. Most are faster than most of the cars with which they share the road.
My online reading has been an education. I found out that the double zz's in "Guzzi" are pronounced the same way as "pizza"...
Goot-zee.
So I've decided to call it the "Pizza Bike".
I'll let ya know later if I think it's "Supreme".
07 September 2010
Oh, These Long Weekends!
Disclaimer, at TWD's prodding:
"This is a true story, but the names have been changed to protect the innocent... "
I wasn't even fully in the door...
It's Saturday night and a long weekend, so the natives have TWO days to be restless!
My Nurse says to me, "As soon as you can get your pre-flight stuff done, we have a flight."
I hate this, 'cause no matter how hard you try there are pressures here to hurry, and preflight duties need real attention to detail...
But someone needs the helicopter and the care we can provide. I force myself to be diligent while I do things as quickly as possible.
For the first time in weeks I raise the collective and come to a hover while the sun is still above the horizon. We fly eighteen minutes and land at the little hospital where dispatch says our patient, a 62 year old woman awaits us. I make a mental note of the fact that she's a year younger than me.
I catch up with my crew in the ICU.
Our patient is morbidly obese...
A diabetic...
A smoker...
While in this hospital she has fallen out of bed and they cannot get the bleeding from her badly traumatized nose under control.
She's barely conscious.
On top of all that, her heartbeat is doing funky things now and then.
Our 34 minute flight back into BigTown is uneventful and she is admitted into the ICU at the Level One Trauma Center. When I retrieve them my crew wonders over the intercom what the bigger hospital will be able to do to improve this woman's life. The sun slips beneath the horizon before we make our way back to our home base.
We're on the ground exactly 12 minutes before the phone rings once again...
"Weather check for a flight to *******boro."
"We can do it."
"Then your flight is a go for a 40-ish year old male burn victim."
Our patient has "ETOH" on board... (he's under the influence of alcohol).
Good and bad...
He's burned because he was acting like a fool, jumping over a very large fire. On landing his feet slipped from beneath him and he sat down in the middle of the hot coals. He's badly burned over about 30% of his backside, including his
(say it like Forrest Gump now!)... but-tocks.
When we load him aboard the helicopter he's still under the influence of adult beverages and also has a little "medicine for pain" on board, so he's in LALA land during the flight. When the sun comes up in the morning the scenario will be different. Over the intercom on the way to the Burn Center my Flight Nurse laughs out loud...
"You won't believe this!"
"What?"
"His name is Jack, and his middle initial is B"!
"Well, he wasn't all that 'nimble', was he?"
(Laughter all around.)
It's this dark humor that provides the relief valve for those of us that see this kind of suffering, (and MUCH worse), all too often. Without it we'd quickly succumb to depression.
It's been raining off and on all day.
We get back to our base just before the temperature drops enough to turn the residual moisture into fog.
By the time we're finished with our paperwork, just after midnight, safe flying is an impossibility. We head to our individual beds and "Earn Money Sleeping".
"This is a true story, but the names have been changed to protect the innocent... "
I wasn't even fully in the door...
It's Saturday night and a long weekend, so the natives have TWO days to be restless!
My Nurse says to me, "As soon as you can get your pre-flight stuff done, we have a flight."
I hate this, 'cause no matter how hard you try there are pressures here to hurry, and preflight duties need real attention to detail...
But someone needs the helicopter and the care we can provide. I force myself to be diligent while I do things as quickly as possible.
For the first time in weeks I raise the collective and come to a hover while the sun is still above the horizon. We fly eighteen minutes and land at the little hospital where dispatch says our patient, a 62 year old woman awaits us. I make a mental note of the fact that she's a year younger than me.
I catch up with my crew in the ICU.
Our patient is morbidly obese...
A diabetic...
A smoker...
While in this hospital she has fallen out of bed and they cannot get the bleeding from her badly traumatized nose under control.
She's barely conscious.
On top of all that, her heartbeat is doing funky things now and then.
Our 34 minute flight back into BigTown is uneventful and she is admitted into the ICU at the Level One Trauma Center. When I retrieve them my crew wonders over the intercom what the bigger hospital will be able to do to improve this woman's life. The sun slips beneath the horizon before we make our way back to our home base.
We're on the ground exactly 12 minutes before the phone rings once again...
"Weather check for a flight to *******boro."
"We can do it."
"Then your flight is a go for a 40-ish year old male burn victim."
Our patient has "ETOH" on board... (he's under the influence of alcohol).
Good and bad...
He's burned because he was acting like a fool, jumping over a very large fire. On landing his feet slipped from beneath him and he sat down in the middle of the hot coals. He's badly burned over about 30% of his backside, including his
(say it like Forrest Gump now!)... but-tocks.
When we load him aboard the helicopter he's still under the influence of adult beverages and also has a little "medicine for pain" on board, so he's in LALA land during the flight. When the sun comes up in the morning the scenario will be different. Over the intercom on the way to the Burn Center my Flight Nurse laughs out loud...
"You won't believe this!"
"What?"
"His name is Jack, and his middle initial is B"!
"Well, he wasn't all that 'nimble', was he?"
(Laughter all around.)
It's this dark humor that provides the relief valve for those of us that see this kind of suffering, (and MUCH worse), all too often. Without it we'd quickly succumb to depression.
It's been raining off and on all day.
We get back to our base just before the temperature drops enough to turn the residual moisture into fog.
By the time we're finished with our paperwork, just after midnight, safe flying is an impossibility. We head to our individual beds and "Earn Money Sleeping".
06 September 2010
He Who Hesitates
We went to war because we were frightened Iraq MIGHT have a Nuclear Weapons program.
We KNOW Iran is processing weapons grade nuclear material.
...tick, tick, tick.
Where he Hell is our leadership?
05 September 2010
Scary Stuff:
"Jennifer Rodi, a National Transportation Safety Board investigator, said the aircraft tail was found to the southwest of the main crash site and the main rotor was found to the north, but stated it was too soon to draw conclusions on the cause of the accident."
More here.
More here.
Missed Him By THAT MUCH !
I've just bought the motorcycle with the intent to save a little money on gas on my commute to work. I've transported plenty of motorcyclists to Trauma Centers, so I'm quite aware of the dangers of colliding with deer after darkness falls and I won't be riding my bike cross-country at night unless there are no large critters to run into.
But on my way to work today, at about 1830 hours with the sun still relatively high above the horizon, a situation similar to the one pictured above happened right in front of my car...
I jammed on the brakes and missed him by no more than 10 feet. He ran from an area where I've seen lots of deer before, but only after sunset.
When I bought the Guzzi I thought I had figured out how to mitigate that danger.
Now my confidence is shaken.
Added before posting:
In the Midwest it's deer. Elsewhere, other wildlife is just as dangerous.
04 September 2010
02 September 2010
The Life Of An EMS Crew
It's 0242 hours and I've just dozed off in the recliner. The phone rings-
"Can you respond to a primary in +++ +++?"
(A primary is a flight where we fly directly to the accident scene.)
My crew is upstairs asleep.
The helicopter is in the hangar because we've had thunderstorms/low clouds/bad visibilities in the area.
"Hold on, I'll move to the other phone and check weather."
I put my dispatcher on hold and sit down in front of the weather computer. A quick check shows the T-storms have moved out of the area. Our local airport is reporting winds calm, 7 miles viz, sky clear, temperature 22, dew point 20, and all other area reporting stations are better than that. I grab the phone-
"We're in the hangar but yeah, we can do it."
"Then your flight is a go. It's a bad motor vehicle accident. I can't tell you anymore than that... things sounded chaotic when they called. How much time should I add to your response time?"
"Five minutes."
I hang up, then push the "intercom" button.
"We have a primary go in +++ +++ for a motor vehicle accident. Let's push her out."
I turn on the hangar lights and by the time I've pushed the rolling hangar doors open my crew is sleepily coming down the stairs. I start the tug and start slowly pushing the aircraft toward the pad, watching each of the 4-$40,000+ rotor blades to make sure I don't run them into anything.
The phone rings again...
Not a good sign when you've been told to "GO!"
(Stop the tug and put it in "Park". Walk to, and pick up the phone-)
"They want you on standby now. Both patients have coded."
(They're doing CPR on both patients at the scene.)
I return to the tug and finish pushing the aircraft to the pad.
We drop the helicopter off its ground-handling wheels and I back the tug and the helicopter moving equipment back into the hangar, then shut the hangar doors.
We're ready to go if needed.
Phone again...
"You're canceled. They've called 'em on the scene."
To the inquiring faces looking at me I say "D.R.T.", (Dead right there.)
Now we're all wide-awake at 0255 hours, and I'm forced to remember-
We're not paid for the actual "doing" of this job...
We're paid for knowing how to do it WHEN and IF we're called.
When I've pushed "Publish"on this Post I'll go back to the recliner.
My crew is already upstairs and horizontal, waiting for the phone to ring again.
"Can you respond to a primary in +++ +++?"
(A primary is a flight where we fly directly to the accident scene.)
My crew is upstairs asleep.
The helicopter is in the hangar because we've had thunderstorms/low clouds/bad visibilities in the area.
"Hold on, I'll move to the other phone and check weather."
I put my dispatcher on hold and sit down in front of the weather computer. A quick check shows the T-storms have moved out of the area. Our local airport is reporting winds calm, 7 miles viz, sky clear, temperature 22, dew point 20, and all other area reporting stations are better than that. I grab the phone-
"We're in the hangar but yeah, we can do it."
"Then your flight is a go. It's a bad motor vehicle accident. I can't tell you anymore than that... things sounded chaotic when they called. How much time should I add to your response time?"
"Five minutes."
I hang up, then push the "intercom" button.
"We have a primary go in +++ +++ for a motor vehicle accident. Let's push her out."
I turn on the hangar lights and by the time I've pushed the rolling hangar doors open my crew is sleepily coming down the stairs. I start the tug and start slowly pushing the aircraft toward the pad, watching each of the 4-$40,000+ rotor blades to make sure I don't run them into anything.
The phone rings again...
Not a good sign when you've been told to "GO!"
(Stop the tug and put it in "Park". Walk to, and pick up the phone-)
"They want you on standby now. Both patients have coded."
(They're doing CPR on both patients at the scene.)
I return to the tug and finish pushing the aircraft to the pad.
We drop the helicopter off its ground-handling wheels and I back the tug and the helicopter moving equipment back into the hangar, then shut the hangar doors.
We're ready to go if needed.
Phone again...
"You're canceled. They've called 'em on the scene."
To the inquiring faces looking at me I say "D.R.T.", (Dead right there.)
Now we're all wide-awake at 0255 hours, and I'm forced to remember-
We're not paid for the actual "doing" of this job...
We're paid for knowing how to do it WHEN and IF we're called.
When I've pushed "Publish"on this Post I'll go back to the recliner.
My crew is already upstairs and horizontal, waiting for the phone to ring again.
01 September 2010
A Greybeard Recommendation-
11 September is just around the corner.
If you find you agree with my politics most of the time, I think you'll find the 22 minutes spent watching this video worth your time.
If you find you agree with my politics most of the time, I think you'll find the 22 minutes spent watching this video worth your time.
31 August 2010
30 August 2010
29 August 2010
A Poll I'd Like To See:
Liberals are incredulous at the stupidity of those polled...
Apparently almost 25 percent of the citizenry now think Bozama is a Muslim.
Here's what I'd like pollsters to do-
Go to Kenya and ask Muslims there if THEY THINK Bozama is Muslim.
What do you think the percentages would be there?
Ha.
Apparently almost 25 percent of the citizenry now think Bozama is a Muslim.
Here's what I'd like pollsters to do-
Go to Kenya and ask Muslims there if THEY THINK Bozama is Muslim.
What do you think the percentages would be there?
Ha.
27 August 2010
The "News"?
Lindsey Lohan is out of jail!
I heard it on the "News". I bet you did too.
Oh, friend Terry sent me an email...
David Dolby died earlier this month.
"Who?" you ask?
Yeah, that's the problem.
Lindsey Lohan is a mess... a drag on society and an example of how NOT to live life.
David Dolby was a hero...
His life, AND his death should have received more attention than it did.
Thank you for protecting me and mine, Sgt. Dolby.
I heard it on the "News". I bet you did too.
Oh, friend Terry sent me an email...
David Dolby died earlier this month.
"Who?" you ask?
Yeah, that's the problem.
Lindsey Lohan is a mess... a drag on society and an example of how NOT to live life.
David Dolby was a hero...
His life, AND his death should have received more attention than it did.
Thank you for protecting me and mine, Sgt. Dolby.
26 August 2010
Those Peaceful Lefties!
"My way or the highway!"
If you don't come around to our way of thinking we "Progressives" might get angry.
That means we may-
Beat you up, even if you're a "person of color" in a wheelchair!
Firebomb the Boss's office, then blame it on those idiot "Tea Partiers".
Stab a Cabbie after affirming he's a Muslim, then blame it on those "hate-filled" righties.
They are getting desperate.
Be prepared folks. I truly think this will get much worse before it gets better.
If you don't come around to our way of thinking we "Progressives" might get angry.
That means we may-
Beat you up, even if you're a "person of color" in a wheelchair!
Firebomb the Boss's office, then blame it on those idiot "Tea Partiers".
Stab a Cabbie after affirming he's a Muslim, then blame it on those "hate-filled" righties.
They are getting desperate.
Be prepared folks. I truly think this will get much worse before it gets better.
Coming/Going
My relief came in right on time yesterday morning. I had called and roused Sara Jean 45 minutes earlier and she showed up 15 minutes after normal shift change time. I got my stuff out of the aircraft, briefed the oncoming pilot, and pointed the Penske truck toward its stable with SJ and the furkids following along behind. Turning the truck in went without a hitch. Ninety minutes later we were back home, and the bed was calling.
But I did it to myself again...
To help stay alert I had ingested a quart thermos of coffee on the drive into BigTown.
Part of it came out an hour after going to bed.
Another portion came out an hour after that.
I realized I had failed to take the phone off the hook when it woke me about an hour after that.
I gave up trying to sleep.
Time to catch up with some of the stuff recorded on TIVO.
Sara Jean came home from work...
It's "Dog Wash" time!
For me, it's easiest to just climb into the tub with both dogs and let the soap/shampoo fly.
Yogi first...
Anal gland squeeze, then a liberal application of baby shampoo (to protect the eyes) on the head and ears, followed by an equally liberal scrubbing with Zest soap over the rest of his body. A good rinse completes the task...
"Mom, he's ready!"
SJ collects Yogi and takes him upstairs for his blow-dry while I repeat the procedure with Lucy.
While Lucy is being dried, I soap the "wet dog" smell off my own body.
Big Bubba calls to let us know he's boarding his airplane... right on time.
He calls again when they stopover in Phoenix.
Two hours before his arrival time we get back on the road to BigTown, and the wear and tear of the cumulative driving to get the bike, return the truck, etc., begins to be REALLY old!
Ten minutes from the airport I look up to see a Southwest 737 fly right over us and point to it...
"That could be your son's airplane right there."
Three minutes later SJ's phone rings...
"I'm on the ground."
Knowing he still has to collect his bags I stop off and buy a bag of White Castle cheeseburgers. As we are driving up the "Arrivals" ramp he calls to say he's outside waiting on us. Perfect timing. Thirty seconds later we load BB and Desi and while he scarfs the belly bombers, I point the car toward home.
We pull into our drive at exactly midnight. I have to cover Mike for his day-shift so the night is gonna be mighty short. I hit the sack and this time I actually sleep soundly.
At 0545 this morning the alarm reminded me why I hate working day shifts.
The Moto Guzzi is in the garage. (And NO Old Man, BB won't be driving it! He can't even drive a stick-shift car.)
Big Bubba is back in his old surroundings.
Right after I push the "Publish Post" button I'm gonna try to catch a power nap here at work.
Things will return to normal and the visiting will begin when I get home tonight.
All is well.
But I did it to myself again...
To help stay alert I had ingested a quart thermos of coffee on the drive into BigTown.
Part of it came out an hour after going to bed.
Another portion came out an hour after that.
I realized I had failed to take the phone off the hook when it woke me about an hour after that.
I gave up trying to sleep.
Time to catch up with some of the stuff recorded on TIVO.
Sara Jean came home from work...
It's "Dog Wash" time!
For me, it's easiest to just climb into the tub with both dogs and let the soap/shampoo fly.
Yogi first...
Anal gland squeeze, then a liberal application of baby shampoo (to protect the eyes) on the head and ears, followed by an equally liberal scrubbing with Zest soap over the rest of his body. A good rinse completes the task...
"Mom, he's ready!"
SJ collects Yogi and takes him upstairs for his blow-dry while I repeat the procedure with Lucy.
While Lucy is being dried, I soap the "wet dog" smell off my own body.
Big Bubba calls to let us know he's boarding his airplane... right on time.
He calls again when they stopover in Phoenix.
Two hours before his arrival time we get back on the road to BigTown, and the wear and tear of the cumulative driving to get the bike, return the truck, etc., begins to be REALLY old!
Ten minutes from the airport I look up to see a Southwest 737 fly right over us and point to it...
"That could be your son's airplane right there."
Three minutes later SJ's phone rings...
"I'm on the ground."
Knowing he still has to collect his bags I stop off and buy a bag of White Castle cheeseburgers. As we are driving up the "Arrivals" ramp he calls to say he's outside waiting on us. Perfect timing. Thirty seconds later we load BB and Desi and while he scarfs the belly bombers, I point the car toward home.
We pull into our drive at exactly midnight. I have to cover Mike for his day-shift so the night is gonna be mighty short. I hit the sack and this time I actually sleep soundly.
At 0545 this morning the alarm reminded me why I hate working day shifts.
The Moto Guzzi is in the garage. (And NO Old Man, BB won't be driving it! He can't even drive a stick-shift car.)
Big Bubba is back in his old surroundings.
Right after I push the "Publish Post" button I'm gonna try to catch a power nap here at work.
Things will return to normal and the visiting will begin when I get home tonight.
All is well.
25 August 2010
It's A Red Letter Day
Big Bubba will be home from L.A. later today!
I'm about to drive to BigTown to return the Penske truck. Accomplishing that, I'll return home for a little rest after my shift last night. Big Bubba's plane lands at 2230 hours, so we'll be headed right back into BigTown tonight to pick he and Desi up. Doubling back on myself, making two 90 minute trips in one day is an irritation I'll gladly suffer, 'cause he hasn't been home in more than a year.
We all need the family time.
I'm about to drive to BigTown to return the Penske truck. Accomplishing that, I'll return home for a little rest after my shift last night. Big Bubba's plane lands at 2230 hours, so we'll be headed right back into BigTown tonight to pick he and Desi up. Doubling back on myself, making two 90 minute trips in one day is an irritation I'll gladly suffer, 'cause he hasn't been home in more than a year.
We all need the family time.
24 August 2010
And We're Driving... And We're Driving...
Well, the trip started off shakily...
But I'm getting ahead of myself already.
I took advantage of my friendship with "TwoDogs".
I reserved the Penske truck for pickup in Indianapolis, THEN called to ask if he might consider driving his hindquarters off all day Saturday to help me pick up the Moto Guzzi. It's terrible, taking someone for granted like that, but I know that he knows I would do the same for him, and I sorta knew the answer to my question before I even asked.
He didn't disappoint me.
Sara Jean and I drove to Indianapolis Friday night and arrived just prior to Sunset. That gave us a couple hours to visit before hitting the sack. We were facing a 7 hour drive to Girard, Pennsylvania... just outside Erie, and wanted to get on the road as early as possible on Saturday in hopes we could make it back late Saturday night. We walked in the door at Penske Truck Rental shortly after they unlocked it.
They had no record of my rental.
"No worries", they said, "We have an extra truck."
But it was a 16-footer, not the 12-footer I was promised.
"We'll give you the 16-footer for the price of the 12-footer. They get about the same gas mileage anyway. What are you gonna use the truck for?"
"I'm moving a motorcycle."
"You need the 16-footer anyway. It has a ramp. The 12-footer doesn't have one."
God works in mysterious ways.
We were on the road Eastbound at 0930 hours.
Twodogs took the first shift. He's a former over-the-road truck driver and noticing how natural and smooth he was behind the wheel made me hope I wouldn't embarrass myself. Two hours or so later we stopped for fuel and I got behind the wheel. I was amazed at how car-like the truck was. With the exception of the fact that it took up most of the lane, it was comfortable to drive, drove easily at 70 m.p.h., and didn't make our kidneys ache. We left the radio off and chatted about news... old and new.
At Dayton Ohio it started to rain. It rained past Cleveland. It rained off and on most of the way to Girard. But other drivers behaved themselves and the Ohio roads were in absolutely GREAT shape. At 4 P.M. Carmen the Garmin lead us right to the sellers front door.
Paul and I had emailed one another and had two or three phone calls to firm up plans. He had everything ready to go... the bike, title, extra parts, and he even helped us push it up the ramp, (thank GOD for the ramp!), and secure it.
TwoDogs and I ooh'ed and aah'ed over the eight or so other bikes Paul owned...
Several Guzzis of various sizes and a couple Boxer BMW's.
On his lift was a Guzzi engine he was rebuilding so we got a chance to look the beast over with nothing to obstruct the view. The 90-degree V is a work of art. I find myself wishing I lived closer to this man... he could teach me a great deal.
I hand Paul the check, we wave goodbye and get on our way at 5 P.M.. It's raining again so we change our minds about driving the short distance to take a look at Lake Erie...
We'd only be able to see a few miles offshore anyway, and one big body of water looks pretty much like all the others doesn't it?
Two fuel stops and several downpours later we pull into TwoDog's driveway at almost exactly midnight, having driven 792 miles.
Do the math... 792 miles divided by 13.5 hours equals an average 58.6 miles per hour, including fuel stops, a food stop, a couple construction slowdowns, and potty breaks.
Leaving Indy the next day I was in the truck solo with Sara Jean and the furkids following behind. The rain from the day before was long gone... we had near-perfect weather all the way home and arrived just as the sun was setting.
This morning I gently rode the bike down the ramp, gave it a good once-over, snapped the lockable Givi bags into place, (note... that link is to a Honda with the bags, borrowed from the 'net), and rode the bike... sans tags and motorcycle driver's license... three miles to determine if this was a tremendous mistake. There is more mechanical noise from the big twin than I was accustomed to with my last bike, an in-line four cylinder 1100cc Yamaha, but I think the noise of the engine working is something I'll learn to enjoy. The exhaust note is nothing short of muted music. I think I'm gonna love the thing.
I'm back to work tonight for two nights and will be off Wednesday morning. I'll try to take a few pictures to share with you soon.
19 August 2010
Weather and Wires
Here's my understanding of what happened:
It was a little after midnight when the flight request came in. The pilot checked weather and accepted the flight at 0035 hours.
At 0041 the aircraft lifted and informed dispatch that they were airborne with three aboard.
At 0043 they called called again, saying they were aborting the flight due to weather and returning to base.
The dispatcher assumed the aircraft had landed safely.
At 0610 hours the oncoming day-shift pilot arrived to find the helipad empty. He called dispatch to inquire as to the whereabouts of the helicopter and crew.
It's hard to imagine the tension and emotion all must have felt at that point.
The wreckage of the helicopter was found at 0820 hours. All aboard were killed instantly when the helicopter collided with the water of the Choctawhatchee Bay.
We stay often in Destin, less than 30 minutes drive from the base where this helicopter took off that night. I'm familiar with how quickly the weather can change there.
But it can change quickly almost anywhere. I have on more than one occasion landed the helicopter at our base and walked in to complete my paperwork, only to find the helicopter almost completely shrouded in fog when I return 30 minutes later to put the logbook back in its appointed slot.
I'm more and more cautious as I grow older. As I type this post our local airport is reporting 10 miles visibility, sky clear, calm winds, temperature 24, dewpoint 22. Two airports within 30 miles are reporting 6 miles visibility with calm winds and temperature/dewpoints within 2 degrees centigrade. I expect our visibility will be headed South soon, and if I'm called to fly a patient I'll probably turn the flight down...
I don't want to kill 4 trying to help 1.
All three aboard the fatal flight above were killed instantly and a prompt search for them would have made no difference in the outcome, so I was somewhat surprised to find there was disciplinary action taken against the dispatchers for their actions. They'll no doubt feel guilty for the rest of their lives, and that's too bad.
There is one thing that kills more people in helicopters than any other:
Colliding with wires.
Helicopters lend themselves to foolishness. It's fun to get "down in the bushes" and zip along at high speed... you can better sense how fast you're going when you're down low. But the environment is "dirty" down there...
Wires, support cables, unlit towers and poles, and even kid's kite strings have brought helicopters braving low altitudes to their demise.
And of course those obstacles are worse when you add darkness or weather-reduced visibility to the equation.
"There are old pilots and bold pilots, but NO old, bold pilots" is a saying aviators hear over and over during their careers.
A potentially fatal accident very early in my career convinced me that saying is true.
That accident and that realization helped me to get to this point... where I'll turn flights down when the wind is calm and temperatures and dewpoints come together and the trend is for reduced visibilities.
When I look in the mirror I see gray hair and lots of wrinkles.
If you fly and want to have lots of great stories to tell when you are wrinkled and gray, you need to heed my warning about weather and wires!
It was a little after midnight when the flight request came in. The pilot checked weather and accepted the flight at 0035 hours.
At 0041 the aircraft lifted and informed dispatch that they were airborne with three aboard.
At 0043 they called called again, saying they were aborting the flight due to weather and returning to base.
The dispatcher assumed the aircraft had landed safely.
At 0610 hours the oncoming day-shift pilot arrived to find the helipad empty. He called dispatch to inquire as to the whereabouts of the helicopter and crew.
It's hard to imagine the tension and emotion all must have felt at that point.
The wreckage of the helicopter was found at 0820 hours. All aboard were killed instantly when the helicopter collided with the water of the Choctawhatchee Bay.
We stay often in Destin, less than 30 minutes drive from the base where this helicopter took off that night. I'm familiar with how quickly the weather can change there.
But it can change quickly almost anywhere. I have on more than one occasion landed the helicopter at our base and walked in to complete my paperwork, only to find the helicopter almost completely shrouded in fog when I return 30 minutes later to put the logbook back in its appointed slot.
I'm more and more cautious as I grow older. As I type this post our local airport is reporting 10 miles visibility, sky clear, calm winds, temperature 24, dewpoint 22. Two airports within 30 miles are reporting 6 miles visibility with calm winds and temperature/dewpoints within 2 degrees centigrade. I expect our visibility will be headed South soon, and if I'm called to fly a patient I'll probably turn the flight down...
I don't want to kill 4 trying to help 1.
All three aboard the fatal flight above were killed instantly and a prompt search for them would have made no difference in the outcome, so I was somewhat surprised to find there was disciplinary action taken against the dispatchers for their actions. They'll no doubt feel guilty for the rest of their lives, and that's too bad.
There is one thing that kills more people in helicopters than any other:
Colliding with wires.
Helicopters lend themselves to foolishness. It's fun to get "down in the bushes" and zip along at high speed... you can better sense how fast you're going when you're down low. But the environment is "dirty" down there...
Wires, support cables, unlit towers and poles, and even kid's kite strings have brought helicopters braving low altitudes to their demise.
And of course those obstacles are worse when you add darkness or weather-reduced visibility to the equation.
"There are old pilots and bold pilots, but NO old, bold pilots" is a saying aviators hear over and over during their careers.
A potentially fatal accident very early in my career convinced me that saying is true.
That accident and that realization helped me to get to this point... where I'll turn flights down when the wind is calm and temperatures and dewpoints come together and the trend is for reduced visibilities.
When I look in the mirror I see gray hair and lots of wrinkles.
If you fly and want to have lots of great stories to tell when you are wrinkled and gray, you need to heed my warning about weather and wires!
18 August 2010
Understanding Truck Rentals
I have to drive to Northwestern Pennsylvania... soon.
That's where my Moto Guzzi presently resides. The guy that sold me the bike has to leave for Beijing, China on the 29th of August and will be gone for months, so he obviously would like to have the sale consumated before then. That's a problem for me...
My schedule and required training absolutely fill the next few weeks. But the guys I work with have come through for me... they'll cover my shifts Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, giving me the time to go retrieve the bike.
But that presents another problem:
Conveying it home.
Last year I bought a rusty, ratty, '89 Chevy Silverado pickup truck. It has oodles of miles on it, but its 350 engine runs great and I bought it to haul stuff like manure and motorcycles when necessary...
But I never considered I might need it to cross country almost 1500 miles.
I think it has a 4:11 rear end in it. When the speedometer indicates 70 mph and the engine is humming along like we're goin' REALLY fast, Carmen the Garmin indicates we're only doin' 55.
So the truck uses a considerable amount of gas while doin' it's job. A trip of 1500 miles in it would not only concern me with questions of "will it make it?", but it'll cost a fortune in fuel too.
Add to that the fact that it has no air conditioning and you can see how I really don't want to drive this thing to PA.
So I stopped by to chat with my local Penske Truck Rental guy, a guy I like a lot and have rented from three times previously. As he has in the past, he "cheated" a little for me and gave me a break on the mileage fee, but it was still gonna cost me over $500 to rent a truck for two days and go 1500 miles. I told him about my old truck and that it looked as if I had an "adventure" driving it to Pennsylvania in my future, and he made a suggestion:
"If the trip is not local, Penske allows for UNLIMITED mileage!"
What?
How does that make any sense at all?
So I called some friends in Indianapolis to see if they'd be up for visitors, then called Penske's 800 number. Here's the surprising outcome:
I can rent a 12-foot truck in Indianapolis Saturday morning, drive it for four days, then return it here at home, UNLIMITED MILES, for $244.64! (10% military discount included).
Can someone explain to me why renting the truck locally (for two days) would cost TWICE what returning it (after using it four days) one-way will cost? What's the business sense in that?
It's a crazy world.
That's where my Moto Guzzi presently resides. The guy that sold me the bike has to leave for Beijing, China on the 29th of August and will be gone for months, so he obviously would like to have the sale consumated before then. That's a problem for me...
My schedule and required training absolutely fill the next few weeks. But the guys I work with have come through for me... they'll cover my shifts Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, giving me the time to go retrieve the bike.
But that presents another problem:
Conveying it home.
Last year I bought a rusty, ratty, '89 Chevy Silverado pickup truck. It has oodles of miles on it, but its 350 engine runs great and I bought it to haul stuff like manure and motorcycles when necessary...
But I never considered I might need it to cross country almost 1500 miles.
I think it has a 4:11 rear end in it. When the speedometer indicates 70 mph and the engine is humming along like we're goin' REALLY fast, Carmen the Garmin indicates we're only doin' 55.
So the truck uses a considerable amount of gas while doin' it's job. A trip of 1500 miles in it would not only concern me with questions of "will it make it?", but it'll cost a fortune in fuel too.
Add to that the fact that it has no air conditioning and you can see how I really don't want to drive this thing to PA.
So I stopped by to chat with my local Penske Truck Rental guy, a guy I like a lot and have rented from three times previously. As he has in the past, he "cheated" a little for me and gave me a break on the mileage fee, but it was still gonna cost me over $500 to rent a truck for two days and go 1500 miles. I told him about my old truck and that it looked as if I had an "adventure" driving it to Pennsylvania in my future, and he made a suggestion:
"If the trip is not local, Penske allows for UNLIMITED mileage!"
What?
How does that make any sense at all?
So I called some friends in Indianapolis to see if they'd be up for visitors, then called Penske's 800 number. Here's the surprising outcome:
I can rent a 12-foot truck in Indianapolis Saturday morning, drive it for four days, then return it here at home, UNLIMITED MILES, for $244.64! (10% military discount included).
Can someone explain to me why renting the truck locally (for two days) would cost TWICE what returning it (after using it four days) one-way will cost? What's the business sense in that?
It's a crazy world.
17 August 2010
Early Morning Thoughts, 17 August
My days and nights are mixed up.
Phil and I covered Mike's vacation last week as he went to Sturgis. Phil got first dibs on the schedule, and for some reason he wanted to work one night, take the next off. then work the following night. That meant I had to work a night, take the next off, work the next, take the next off, and work another. I no longer can shrug off lack of sleep the way I once did. Working a night shift means I have to sleep much of the next day to recharge my batteries. That then leaves me wide-awake the next evening, driving Sara Jean crazy with my late-night TV watching or my tap-tapping as I leave extraordinarily intelligent comments on the blogs of others. So here I sit, in bed, laptop on lap, pecking out a post at O-dark-thirty. I'm trying desperately not to wake my sleeping beauty, 'cause she's not pleasant when she's awakened early. (I hope you realize the danger I'm exposed to here, trying to get information out to you!)
I'm headed into Bigtown later to fly a farmer I've known for years over his crops. He wants to take a look at drainage to get an idea of where his efforts are worthwhile and where he's wasting his time. He also wants to look at some real estate for a possible future purchase. Plat maps will be involved and photos will be taken.
Then I'll be headed back to my EMS base for our monthly pilot meeting. All four base pilots get together at these things to be brought up to speed on policy changes, safety matters, and sometimes, issues that have been raised by fellow employees. It's about the only time all four of us get together. Our lead pilot generally pops a pizza in the oven and we chat while dining. Three of the four of us are retired ARMY. The "odd duck" is our Britisher, who has experience flying in exotic areas and at altitudes the others of us can only dream of, so we grudgingly have accepted him into our fold, even though we frequently have to ask him to "Say that again, this time in AMERICAN!"...
A wonderful, interesting, life-filled bunch of guys.
One of the things we'll discuss today is an unforeseen problem for me...
I need time off to go get my Moto Guzzi.
It's in Pennsylvania, and I'm estimating it'll take 10 hours to drive there. So I'll need at least two days off to get it. Maybe three. The guy I'm buying it from is another interesting case...
He travels the world building plants that manufacture a very special product. He leaves for a MAJOR world capitol half-way around the world on 29 August, so I have to get the bike prior to that date. With my upcoming schedule sooner is better than later, so I'm thinkin' I'll be headed to Northern PA this weekend in a rented truck with a check in my hand. I'm excited, but it's one of those complications in my life that I'll be glad to have behind me.
So that's my Tuesday. It's not ferociously hot today, so flying will be pleasant.
I may be needing a little nap later to insure I'm not checking the inside of my eyelids on my way from Bigtown to the Base Pilot's meeting.
Watch this space... If you see a post after this one, you'll know I stayed awake and survived.
Phil and I covered Mike's vacation last week as he went to Sturgis. Phil got first dibs on the schedule, and for some reason he wanted to work one night, take the next off. then work the following night. That meant I had to work a night, take the next off, work the next, take the next off, and work another. I no longer can shrug off lack of sleep the way I once did. Working a night shift means I have to sleep much of the next day to recharge my batteries. That then leaves me wide-awake the next evening, driving Sara Jean crazy with my late-night TV watching or my tap-tapping as I leave extraordinarily intelligent comments on the blogs of others. So here I sit, in bed, laptop on lap, pecking out a post at O-dark-thirty. I'm trying desperately not to wake my sleeping beauty, 'cause she's not pleasant when she's awakened early. (I hope you realize the danger I'm exposed to here, trying to get information out to you!)
I'm headed into Bigtown later to fly a farmer I've known for years over his crops. He wants to take a look at drainage to get an idea of where his efforts are worthwhile and where he's wasting his time. He also wants to look at some real estate for a possible future purchase. Plat maps will be involved and photos will be taken.
Then I'll be headed back to my EMS base for our monthly pilot meeting. All four base pilots get together at these things to be brought up to speed on policy changes, safety matters, and sometimes, issues that have been raised by fellow employees. It's about the only time all four of us get together. Our lead pilot generally pops a pizza in the oven and we chat while dining. Three of the four of us are retired ARMY. The "odd duck" is our Britisher, who has experience flying in exotic areas and at altitudes the others of us can only dream of, so we grudgingly have accepted him into our fold, even though we frequently have to ask him to "Say that again, this time in AMERICAN!"...
A wonderful, interesting, life-filled bunch of guys.
One of the things we'll discuss today is an unforeseen problem for me...
I need time off to go get my Moto Guzzi.
It's in Pennsylvania, and I'm estimating it'll take 10 hours to drive there. So I'll need at least two days off to get it. Maybe three. The guy I'm buying it from is another interesting case...
He travels the world building plants that manufacture a very special product. He leaves for a MAJOR world capitol half-way around the world on 29 August, so I have to get the bike prior to that date. With my upcoming schedule sooner is better than later, so I'm thinkin' I'll be headed to Northern PA this weekend in a rented truck with a check in my hand. I'm excited, but it's one of those complications in my life that I'll be glad to have behind me.
So that's my Tuesday. It's not ferociously hot today, so flying will be pleasant.
I may be needing a little nap later to insure I'm not checking the inside of my eyelids on my way from Bigtown to the Base Pilot's meeting.
Watch this space... If you see a post after this one, you'll know I stayed awake and survived.
14 August 2010
Fear, and Anger
What in the world is going on in my country?
Things are out of control and our leadership is making things worse.
The term "Coup D'etat" actually came up in a forum I was participating in a few nights ago.
I've used the term "tinderbox" to describe what I'm seeing and feeling, and that seems even more appropriate now...
What happens when the majority of the populace realizes they're being ignored and starts thinking about available options?
The coming election is SO critical...
I pray it goes without a hitch and we get the country back on the path to sanity, because the anger I'm feeling frightens me.
Things are out of control and our leadership is making things worse.
The term "Coup D'etat" actually came up in a forum I was participating in a few nights ago.
I've used the term "tinderbox" to describe what I'm seeing and feeling, and that seems even more appropriate now...
What happens when the majority of the populace realizes they're being ignored and starts thinking about available options?
The coming election is SO critical...
I pray it goes without a hitch and we get the country back on the path to sanity, because the anger I'm feeling frightens me.
13 August 2010
Taqqiyah
Are you familiar with the term "Taqqiyah"?
If not, it'd be to your advantage to get familiar with it quickly...
'Cause things around us are sure happening quickly!
Be prepared, or be a victim.
If not, it'd be to your advantage to get familiar with it quickly...
'Cause things around us are sure happening quickly!
Be prepared, or be a victim.
12 August 2010
Bought It!
...The sexy Italian!
A relative who is also a lurker here emailed, (paraphrasing):
"You! Of all people! ARE YOU CRAZY?"
And the answer is, "Yes, a little, I suppose."
While I was in Viet Nam I had a friend who was an engineering Grad from M.I.T..
When I asked him why he joined the ARMY and went to flight school he replied,
"I wanted to be here, with the guys."
At the time I was incredulous...
Why would anyone WANT to fly a large, slow-moving target in a live-fire exercise?
The passage of time has cleared my head some, so I understand now. I'm proud of my service and glad for the experiences I had with "the guys". Over beers, after a mission, we often talked about how "alive" we felt doing that job.
Draft dodgers and those who couldn't pass the physical were back home doin' the routine stuff while we were "living".
My line of work exposes me to folks getting hurt or dying from all sorts of strange things. Motorcycle accidents happen to be one of 'em.
Bein' around horses or other large animals is another, as is a lot of farmwork.
My point is, you have a decision to make-
You can be cautious and grow old, then look back at your life through cataract-dulled eyes and say, "Boy, I wish I had (fill in your dangerous experience here)."
Or you can get out while you're healthy and actually live, then smile when you and your "old" friends talk about your shared memories over beers.
Me?
Heck, I fly helicopters.
Motorcycles are like rockin' chairs.
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