Some years ago I wrote about moving the nation's capitol from Washington D.C. to a central U.S. location.
It makes sense to me for a couple reasons:
-Geographically, it makes NO sense to have our center of government so close to the edge of the country. A missile fired from say, a submarine, could literally land on Congress' head in seconds.
-How many of us here in "Flyover Country" feel our elected reps have NO idea how we struggle to deal with their poor decision making?
Would their attitude be affected if our government's heart was moved to somewhere like Omaha, Nebraska, where legislators would be surrounded by corn and wheat fields?
I can't imagine it wouldn't.
Will it happen?
(Are you kidding?)
Should it happen? Would our country be a better place if it DID happen?
The fact I'm posting this shows how I feel about how our "representatives" are representing us.
I'm hoping for change.
30 October 2016
27 October 2016
21 October 2016
Rigged?
This is not NEW news:
It's generally accepted that the 1960 presidential election was thrown to Kennedy by Mayor Daley of Chicago.
Elections since, (the Franken election in MN comes to mind), have been situations where the democrats simply kept finding new votes to count until they won.
But I have a story to relate that may surprise some:
Sara Jean had a brother with Down's Syndrome.
"Pat" lived in a facility designed to care for 16 children/adults needing special care.
The closeness of the 2000 Bush/Gore vote numbers, (less than 600 in Florida?), caused me to wonder-
Did Pat and his 15 disabled housemates vote?
So I called the facility and asked.
"Oh yes, they all vote!" was the enthusiastic answer.
"But Pat has the mind of a 3 year-old. How does he have the ability to discern who he wants to vote for?"
"They all watch the news on TV."
"Really? So he goes into the polling booth alone and votes?"
"Oh no, there is a staff member that asks how they want to vote and assists them."
Sigh.
This is a State-supported facility. Do you think any of those 16 "kids" voted for a conservative candidate?
And what is REALLY scary to me is to imagine the numbers of mentally challenged adults across the nation being "assisted" by State-supported employees in the polling booth.
Bush won in Florida by a paper thin margin in spite of this fact.
I wonder...
At what point do folks like me get tired of being trampled beneath this "rigged" bureaucracy?
We used to have journalists to expose this sort of wrong.
Now?
We have our own version of Pravda.
It's generally accepted that the 1960 presidential election was thrown to Kennedy by Mayor Daley of Chicago.
Elections since, (the Franken election in MN comes to mind), have been situations where the democrats simply kept finding new votes to count until they won.
But I have a story to relate that may surprise some:
Sara Jean had a brother with Down's Syndrome.
"Pat" lived in a facility designed to care for 16 children/adults needing special care.
The closeness of the 2000 Bush/Gore vote numbers, (less than 600 in Florida?), caused me to wonder-
Did Pat and his 15 disabled housemates vote?
So I called the facility and asked.
"Oh yes, they all vote!" was the enthusiastic answer.
"But Pat has the mind of a 3 year-old. How does he have the ability to discern who he wants to vote for?"
"They all watch the news on TV."
"Really? So he goes into the polling booth alone and votes?"
"Oh no, there is a staff member that asks how they want to vote and assists them."
Sigh.
This is a State-supported facility. Do you think any of those 16 "kids" voted for a conservative candidate?
And what is REALLY scary to me is to imagine the numbers of mentally challenged adults across the nation being "assisted" by State-supported employees in the polling booth.
Bush won in Florida by a paper thin margin in spite of this fact.
I wonder...
At what point do folks like me get tired of being trampled beneath this "rigged" bureaucracy?
We used to have journalists to expose this sort of wrong.
Now?
We have our own version of Pravda.
16 October 2016
Destin, 2016
So here we are, a few feet from where I wrote the initial post for "Pitchpull" in 2005.
It's been a month since I've posted here.
Hard to explain what's going on in my heart...
I've come to the realization that the country I was willing to die for no longer exists...
How is it such a large portion of my countrymen are willing to vote for an admitted socialist?
I... we, have to move on.
But for me, this is like learning an alternative way to breathe.
Destin Florida is one of the more beautiful places on the face of the earth.
Near last-minute changes find us planning on spending our Winter here again.
(It's hard, but someone has to do it.)
Back home now, at least four people we know and love are dealing with critical health issues.
Survivor guilt... it's hard to be here enjoying an adult beverage on the balcony overlooking the Gulf while we know others are praying, frantically hoping for a miracle.
We want to be here, but we simultaneously want to be home comforting those we love.
Instant communication is wonderful, until it isn't.
Think I'm confused and conflicted?
You're right.
We have a spare bedroom.
We've offered it often.
In three years it's been used three times, one week each.
Let us know you're interested. I need the chance to vent...
Therapy.
We'll leave the light on for ya.
.
It's been a month since I've posted here.
Hard to explain what's going on in my heart...
I've come to the realization that the country I was willing to die for no longer exists...
How is it such a large portion of my countrymen are willing to vote for an admitted socialist?
I... we, have to move on.
But for me, this is like learning an alternative way to breathe.
Destin Florida is one of the more beautiful places on the face of the earth.
Near last-minute changes find us planning on spending our Winter here again.
(It's hard, but someone has to do it.)
Back home now, at least four people we know and love are dealing with critical health issues.
Survivor guilt... it's hard to be here enjoying an adult beverage on the balcony overlooking the Gulf while we know others are praying, frantically hoping for a miracle.
We want to be here, but we simultaneously want to be home comforting those we love.
Instant communication is wonderful, until it isn't.
Think I'm confused and conflicted?
You're right.
We have a spare bedroom.
We've offered it often.
In three years it's been used three times, one week each.
Let us know you're interested. I need the chance to vent...
Therapy.
We'll leave the light on for ya.
.
14 September 2016
The Joy of Online Banking-
Painless.
Like waking up in your own bed finding someone came during the night, sedated you, and removed your appendix.
After approving the transaction, your bills are paid automatically.
What could be easier?
Except it's TOO easy.
We finally began to pay attention to those bills we pay online.
Our phone bill for two cell phones was running us $105 per month.
We saw a "Tracfone" advertised on QVC and realized maybe there was an alternative.
We bought the phone and I paid a visit to our local phone store to transfer ONE of the phone numbers to the Tracphone account. It was amazing how helpful our local provider was, helping to keep the account of the second phone by lowering its cost!
We've reduced our total monthly cost by at least $50 per month.
I started thinking-
What other bill is paid similarly? The answer?
Our Satellite TV bill.
You know "The Rest of The Story"...
That cost now reduced from $120/month to $85/month.
That's now $85/month we'll have in our pockets to use as we see fit.
How 'bout you...
Maybe you need to take a closer look at your online "outgo"?
Like waking up in your own bed finding someone came during the night, sedated you, and removed your appendix.
After approving the transaction, your bills are paid automatically.
What could be easier?
Except it's TOO easy.
We finally began to pay attention to those bills we pay online.
Our phone bill for two cell phones was running us $105 per month.
We saw a "Tracfone" advertised on QVC and realized maybe there was an alternative.
We bought the phone and I paid a visit to our local phone store to transfer ONE of the phone numbers to the Tracphone account. It was amazing how helpful our local provider was, helping to keep the account of the second phone by lowering its cost!
We've reduced our total monthly cost by at least $50 per month.
I started thinking-
What other bill is paid similarly? The answer?
Our Satellite TV bill.
You know "The Rest of The Story"...
That cost now reduced from $120/month to $85/month.
That's now $85/month we'll have in our pockets to use as we see fit.
How 'bout you...
Maybe you need to take a closer look at your online "outgo"?
02 September 2016
"Call the glass doctor, he'll fix your panes."
What is it about "The West", and windshields?
I first noticed it while going through primary flight training at Ft. Wolters, TX back in '68...
Windshields belonging to most of the locals were pitted, noticeably.
I assumed it was due to driving through blowing sand at 70 mph... seemed to me having a grain-of-sand-sized "rock" hitting the windshield at that speed would leave its mark, right?
When I bought my Dodge Ram Diesel truck and had it shipped here from Palm Desert, CA, one of the first things I noticed was the similarly pitted windshield.
The pitting was an irritation, but only presented a problem to vision when driving into strong, direct sunlight.
The windscreen also had a small starburst crack in it... not in my main focus area, so I made a mental note that at some point when time and location permitted I'd have that sucker replaced.
Last summer I did just that. The cost was just under $300.
Three months later, at night, on Interstate 65 just South of Birmingham, AL we heard it... BAM!
"That had to have cracked that new windshield" I said to my beautiful copilot/navigator.
Sure enough, upon inspection I found a silver-dollar sized starburst crack in the lower right hand corner of the glass... 'way out of my field of view.
Screw it. I can wait until something else happens.
And then it rained. And rained. And rained.
When I went out to drive off in the truck I could literally have raised Goldfish in the passenger-side footwell.
I've been parking the truck under cover as much as possible since.
Today the windshield repair folks will arrive at Noon to once again replace the damaged screen.
The price is about the same as it was last summer.
Please... can we keep this one undamaged and leak-free for more than a few months?
I first noticed it while going through primary flight training at Ft. Wolters, TX back in '68...
Windshields belonging to most of the locals were pitted, noticeably.
I assumed it was due to driving through blowing sand at 70 mph... seemed to me having a grain-of-sand-sized "rock" hitting the windshield at that speed would leave its mark, right?
When I bought my Dodge Ram Diesel truck and had it shipped here from Palm Desert, CA, one of the first things I noticed was the similarly pitted windshield.
The pitting was an irritation, but only presented a problem to vision when driving into strong, direct sunlight.
The windscreen also had a small starburst crack in it... not in my main focus area, so I made a mental note that at some point when time and location permitted I'd have that sucker replaced.
Last summer I did just that. The cost was just under $300.
Three months later, at night, on Interstate 65 just South of Birmingham, AL we heard it... BAM!
"That had to have cracked that new windshield" I said to my beautiful copilot/navigator.
Sure enough, upon inspection I found a silver-dollar sized starburst crack in the lower right hand corner of the glass... 'way out of my field of view.
Screw it. I can wait until something else happens.
And then it rained. And rained. And rained.
When I went out to drive off in the truck I could literally have raised Goldfish in the passenger-side footwell.
I've been parking the truck under cover as much as possible since.
Today the windshield repair folks will arrive at Noon to once again replace the damaged screen.
The price is about the same as it was last summer.
Please... can we keep this one undamaged and leak-free for more than a few months?
01 September 2016
For Men, It's The Second Thing To Fail:
Yeah, I'm officially an old man.
We've now attended this show TWICE in person.
I thought I had posted it here, but when I did a search I found... nada.
When you are in San Antonio, this light show is a MUST.
It tells the story of San Antonio and Texas, from the time fish turned into Bison, to present day. :)
Enjoy here. Enjoy MORE in person!
We've now attended this show TWICE in person.
I thought I had posted it here, but when I did a search I found... nada.
When you are in San Antonio, this light show is a MUST.
It tells the story of San Antonio and Texas, from the time fish turned into Bison, to present day. :)
Enjoy here. Enjoy MORE in person!
31 August 2016
ADVENTURE! August 2016
"UH-OH!", the Amtrak Conductor exclaimed as she tried to scan our tickets.
(Is there EVER a time that "UH-OH" is a good thing?)
"There's a problem", she says.
"These tickets are for last night's train."
"UH-OH" said the old helicopter pilot.
"Go right now and tell the ticket agent your problem. Maybe there's an open sleeper on this train."
Heart racing, I ran to the ticket counter. We needed to be in San Antonio for a military reunion.
How did I screw this thing up this badly?
She spent ten minutes coordinating on the phone, then said "You owe me a transaction fee of $12.40. Hurry and catch your train!"
Whew!
We boarded at 7 P.M., then went immediately to the dining car.
Sara Jean ate one of the best steaks she ever put in her mouth. I ate a grilled chicken breast that was mighty tasty.
Meals are included in the fare for those in "sleeper cars", and are wonderful.
The train pulled out of the station headed South.
Sleeping on the train is fitful. The car rocks side-to-side, sometimes almost violently.
Amtrak does not own the rails... varying freight carriers do. In some places the track is great. In others, Amtrak has to slow almost to a walking pace to pass safely.
We woke at 6 A.M. and prepared to go eat our "free" breakfast. While eating that meal we stopped to disembark/embark passengers at Marshall, TX. That process complete we left that station, only to stop about a mile down the track.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are stopped because the considerable rain they have experienced in this area has washed out the track in front of us. We are now waiting on construction crews to rebuild the track. We'll be here at least an hour."
And the train backed into the Marshall station to allow smokers to get out and do their thing.
FOUR HOURS later, we slowly crossed the area where the track had washed out, accelerated, and continued our journey toward San Antonio.
At Dallas we once again heard the Conductor's voice:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the rain in this area has flooded the terminal controlling our dispatch computers. Traffic separation is now being controlled manually."
That meant slowing or stopping to allow freight traffic to pass.
We arrived in San Antonio after 1 A.M., almost five hours later than scheduled.
We had guaranteed our room, so we literally fell into bed and slept like the exhausted adventurers we were.
The reunion?
We were in San Antonio!
It went GREAT!
(Is there EVER a time that "UH-OH" is a good thing?)
"There's a problem", she says.
"These tickets are for last night's train."
"UH-OH" said the old helicopter pilot.
"Go right now and tell the ticket agent your problem. Maybe there's an open sleeper on this train."
Heart racing, I ran to the ticket counter. We needed to be in San Antonio for a military reunion.
How did I screw this thing up this badly?
She spent ten minutes coordinating on the phone, then said "You owe me a transaction fee of $12.40. Hurry and catch your train!"
Whew!
We boarded at 7 P.M., then went immediately to the dining car.
Sara Jean ate one of the best steaks she ever put in her mouth. I ate a grilled chicken breast that was mighty tasty.
Meals are included in the fare for those in "sleeper cars", and are wonderful.
The train pulled out of the station headed South.
Sleeping on the train is fitful. The car rocks side-to-side, sometimes almost violently.
Amtrak does not own the rails... varying freight carriers do. In some places the track is great. In others, Amtrak has to slow almost to a walking pace to pass safely.
We woke at 6 A.M. and prepared to go eat our "free" breakfast. While eating that meal we stopped to disembark/embark passengers at Marshall, TX. That process complete we left that station, only to stop about a mile down the track.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are stopped because the considerable rain they have experienced in this area has washed out the track in front of us. We are now waiting on construction crews to rebuild the track. We'll be here at least an hour."
And the train backed into the Marshall station to allow smokers to get out and do their thing.
FOUR HOURS later, we slowly crossed the area where the track had washed out, accelerated, and continued our journey toward San Antonio.
At Dallas we once again heard the Conductor's voice:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the rain in this area has flooded the terminal controlling our dispatch computers. Traffic separation is now being controlled manually."
That meant slowing or stopping to allow freight traffic to pass.
We arrived in San Antonio after 1 A.M., almost five hours later than scheduled.
We had guaranteed our room, so we literally fell into bed and slept like the exhausted adventurers we were.
The reunion?
We were in San Antonio!
It went GREAT!
05 August 2016
Poor Poor Pitiful Me
We all have 'em...
Some of us are fortunate enough to not be married to 'em...
Joe Bftsplk.
Joe is a forgotten soul now... a cartoon character from the old "Lil' Abner" strip that ran on the funny pages of our old newspaper. Nothing good ever happened to Joe. Everywhere he walked, that dark cloud followed and made sure he didn't have a sunny day.
One of the pilots I used to work with reminded me of Joe.
He had married an attractive gal several years his junior. He used most of his savings to buy a restaurant, hoping it would not only be a financial success, but keep his pretty young wife busy (and out of trouble).
You may be ahead of me here... if you have a pretty, young wife, you may not want to leave her alone with a bunch of customers and fellow workers paying lots of attention to her.
He realized his mistake pretty quickly, but with all his savings committed, what could he do?
He'd come in to work, and for half an hour I had to put on my second hat... "therapist".
He moaned about his marriage. He worried his young wife was having an affair with the 20-yr old busboy. He complained about the restaurant, the possible loss of his savings, and contractors not doing prompt repairs.
The situation finally got so bad I said, "Partner, I'll make ya a deal. Tomorrow I'll bring my .357 to work and we can do one of two things-
You put it to your head and blow your brains out, or I'll put it to mine." He'd smile a sad smile and nod his head.
They were divorced within a year, and he lost his job shortly thereafter.
People like this suck your energy.
They're not happy until they have chaos in their lives.
They want you to be "happy" like them too, so they share the turbulence in their lives with you.
It may be my biggest failing as a Christian... as soon as I realize I've found one of these energy-suckers, I separate myself. Sometimes that means avoiding people that are VERY close in your life. That makes it hard, but not impossible to "avoid the drain".
Do you know one of these tapeworms?
How do you handle them?
Some of us are fortunate enough to not be married to 'em...
Joe Bftsplk.
Joe is a forgotten soul now... a cartoon character from the old "Lil' Abner" strip that ran on the funny pages of our old newspaper. Nothing good ever happened to Joe. Everywhere he walked, that dark cloud followed and made sure he didn't have a sunny day.
One of the pilots I used to work with reminded me of Joe.
He had married an attractive gal several years his junior. He used most of his savings to buy a restaurant, hoping it would not only be a financial success, but keep his pretty young wife busy (and out of trouble).
You may be ahead of me here... if you have a pretty, young wife, you may not want to leave her alone with a bunch of customers and fellow workers paying lots of attention to her.
He realized his mistake pretty quickly, but with all his savings committed, what could he do?
He'd come in to work, and for half an hour I had to put on my second hat... "therapist".
He moaned about his marriage. He worried his young wife was having an affair with the 20-yr old busboy. He complained about the restaurant, the possible loss of his savings, and contractors not doing prompt repairs.
The situation finally got so bad I said, "Partner, I'll make ya a deal. Tomorrow I'll bring my .357 to work and we can do one of two things-
You put it to your head and blow your brains out, or I'll put it to mine." He'd smile a sad smile and nod his head.
They were divorced within a year, and he lost his job shortly thereafter.
People like this suck your energy.
They're not happy until they have chaos in their lives.
They want you to be "happy" like them too, so they share the turbulence in their lives with you.
It may be my biggest failing as a Christian... as soon as I realize I've found one of these energy-suckers, I separate myself. Sometimes that means avoiding people that are VERY close in your life. That makes it hard, but not impossible to "avoid the drain".
Do you know one of these tapeworms?
How do you handle them?
17 July 2016
Dark Skies On The Horizon
I've shared this with you before.
Now that traffic here has lessened, I realize I'm sharing it now mostly with like-minded souls.
When you are fearful your family may be in danger, will you go to work or stay home to protect them?
Cops.
Other first responders... Emt's, Paramedics, Firemen, folks who fly helicopters to accident scenes.
Folks who work at our utilities... water, electricity, etc..
What will THEY do?
I think I know the answer to that question.
This guy knows what happens.
He saw this scenario unfold in his country.
And he's warning us about what is about to happen.
Be prepared.
Or be a victim.
Your choice.
Choose wisely.
Now that traffic here has lessened, I realize I'm sharing it now mostly with like-minded souls.
When you are fearful your family may be in danger, will you go to work or stay home to protect them?
Cops.
Other first responders... Emt's, Paramedics, Firemen, folks who fly helicopters to accident scenes.
Folks who work at our utilities... water, electricity, etc..
What will THEY do?
I think I know the answer to that question.
This guy knows what happens.
He saw this scenario unfold in his country.
And he's warning us about what is about to happen.
Be prepared.
Or be a victim.
Your choice.
Choose wisely.
16 July 2016
We Picked 'Em Up and Took 'Em to Shelter!
I flew various iterations of this machine from 1968 to 1988, accruing just over 3000 hours airborne beneath that rotor during that time.
Do ya think I LOVE this bird?
15 July 2016
Winston Churchill for President!
Show me a man like Winston and I'll vote for him.
But he knew he WAS NOT ELIGIBLE.
From his speech to a joint session of Congress in December of 1941:
"By the way, I cannot help reflecting that if my father had been American and my mother British instead of the other way around, I might have got here on my own."
What happened to that "Natural Born Citizen" clause between 1941 and 2008?
Hysteria happened, that's what.
But he knew he WAS NOT ELIGIBLE.
From his speech to a joint session of Congress in December of 1941:
"By the way, I cannot help reflecting that if my father had been American and my mother British instead of the other way around, I might have got here on my own."
What happened to that "Natural Born Citizen" clause between 1941 and 2008?
Hysteria happened, that's what.
13 July 2016
About "Pitchpull":
When I decided to take the plunge and start writing here 11+ years ago, the world was such a different place.
I was a different person.
If you are even a now-and-again follower, go back and look at my post-election post about Obama in November of '08. There you'll see my concern, and hope, that he'd be a transformative leader.
My concerns have been verified.
Hope and Change... well, that was just a campaign slogan.
When Obama was re-elected in '12, Sara Jean and I both felt as if we had had a death in the family. Isn't that amazing?
We were looking at signs we felt were obvious... that the things our Fathers had fought so hard for were being tossed aside. Our country was being "fundamentally transformed" in a way that would tear the economic and moral fabric of the nation.
I coined the phrase, "The GIMMEE GENERATION".
In about 60 years we've gone from "The Greatest Generation" to "The Gimmee Generation". .
And that "Gimmee" generation feels the "gimmees" are not enough.
Gimmee MORE.
We have no leadership.
The nation is falling apart, and Obama is so oblivious he feels the need to divide us even further. Even at a memorial service for fallen heroes he feels the need to divide us.
I'm sick at heart.
My Mother used to say, "I'm glad I'm old".
And by that she meant she was glad she had lived most of her life in "Saner" times.
When I started writing this blog in April of '05 I felt my words might help others to live a better life. Now?
I have to ask the question: "Who the hell is listening?"
I was a different person.
If you are even a now-and-again follower, go back and look at my post-election post about Obama in November of '08. There you'll see my concern, and hope, that he'd be a transformative leader.
My concerns have been verified.
Hope and Change... well, that was just a campaign slogan.
When Obama was re-elected in '12, Sara Jean and I both felt as if we had had a death in the family. Isn't that amazing?
We were looking at signs we felt were obvious... that the things our Fathers had fought so hard for were being tossed aside. Our country was being "fundamentally transformed" in a way that would tear the economic and moral fabric of the nation.
I coined the phrase, "The GIMMEE GENERATION".
In about 60 years we've gone from "The Greatest Generation" to "The Gimmee Generation". .
And that "Gimmee" generation feels the "gimmees" are not enough.
Gimmee MORE.
We have no leadership.
The nation is falling apart, and Obama is so oblivious he feels the need to divide us even further. Even at a memorial service for fallen heroes he feels the need to divide us.
I'm sick at heart.
My Mother used to say, "I'm glad I'm old".
And by that she meant she was glad she had lived most of her life in "Saner" times.
When I started writing this blog in April of '05 I felt my words might help others to live a better life. Now?
I have to ask the question: "Who the hell is listening?"
11 July 2016
Bulldog
Ask me "Who was the most important leader in World War Two?"
I'll answer emphatically: WINSTON.
Yes, there certainly were other heroes: Eisenhower, MacArthur, Patton, FDR...
All of them worth our study. But I'd argue that without Churchill, the others would have failed.
In fact, we might not even know some of their names.
Winston was the glue that held Britain together until December of 1941 when the U.S. finally got its nose bloodied and realized there was a world problem that needed our attention.
He was half-American, born to an American Mother.
He constantly had a lit cigar somewhere close.
He drank nearly from the time he woke until he went to bed.
He had multiple strokes and a few heart attacks... (he had one heart attack during the war while at the White House conferring with FDR. That attack was kept secret, even from Churchill AND wife Clementine so as not to concern the rest of the world).
He still lived to be 90.
I've been watching movies and documentaries about his life on "Netflix" and "Amazon", and I'm constantly reminded about the old saw, "Those who don't know history are doomed to suffer repeating it."
Churchill was amazing.
His MANY quotations are entertaining and worth our time. Even his flaws made him interesting.
The world WOULD NOT be the same today had he not lived.
I heartily recommend you get to know him better.
07 July 2016
Why Do We Have A Second Amendment?
"When government fears the people, there is liberty. When the people fear the government, there is tyranny."
Thomas Jefferson
Whattya think...
Does our government now fear the people?
Thomas Jefferson
Whattya think...
Does our government now fear the people?
04 July 2016
Brake, Don't Break
A year ago...
(Or was it two?) WOW, I'm gettin' old!
I was riding alongside someone I care about... a relatively new rider.
This new rider was astride a Harley-Davidson motorcycle with more displacement than I had between my legs until I was well into my sixties. Still, with my "two-wheel" experience and personal knowledge of the myriad ways you can hurt yourself, I watched "H-D rider's" technique and was surprised to see NO use of the front brake.
At our first stop I mentioned it...
"Don't you realize that's where most of your stopping power is?"
I was the only non-Harley rider in the group. Other riders of that brand seemed to be offended by the fact I had made the suggestion.
So I asked another question:
"When you do a brake job on your car, which brakes are most likely to need maintenance, and WHY?"
Cumulative Harley riders didn't know.
So I told 'em.
They still seemed unconvinced.
I dropped the subject... maybe it is dangerous to use the front brake on a Harley-Davidson motorcycle?
I'd be delighted if more people were introduced to motorcycling.
To this end, I constantly recommend the "Motorcycle Safety Foundation's" introductory course.
(Even if you don't ride you should take the course... it's a GREAT education about bikes and what makes them tick.)
But there's a reason many people think motorcycles are extremely dangerous.
One of the reasons they think that is because bikers are exposed to idiots in cars and trucks.
Another reason is that many riders haven't been properly educated about how their machines work.
As an ex-EMS helicopter pilot I can tell you LOTS of stories!
Here's my (old biker) advice...
If you operate a technical machine... motorcycle, airplane, helicopter, etc...
NEVER quit learning about it.
A good education may help you avoid your local Emergency Room.
Don't BREAK.
(Or was it two?) WOW, I'm gettin' old!
I was riding alongside someone I care about... a relatively new rider.
This new rider was astride a Harley-Davidson motorcycle with more displacement than I had between my legs until I was well into my sixties. Still, with my "two-wheel" experience and personal knowledge of the myriad ways you can hurt yourself, I watched "H-D rider's" technique and was surprised to see NO use of the front brake.
At our first stop I mentioned it...
"Don't you realize that's where most of your stopping power is?"
I was the only non-Harley rider in the group. Other riders of that brand seemed to be offended by the fact I had made the suggestion.
So I asked another question:
"When you do a brake job on your car, which brakes are most likely to need maintenance, and WHY?"
Cumulative Harley riders didn't know.
So I told 'em.
They still seemed unconvinced.
I dropped the subject... maybe it is dangerous to use the front brake on a Harley-Davidson motorcycle?
I'd be delighted if more people were introduced to motorcycling.
To this end, I constantly recommend the "Motorcycle Safety Foundation's" introductory course.
(Even if you don't ride you should take the course... it's a GREAT education about bikes and what makes them tick.)
But there's a reason many people think motorcycles are extremely dangerous.
One of the reasons they think that is because bikers are exposed to idiots in cars and trucks.
Another reason is that many riders haven't been properly educated about how their machines work.
As an ex-EMS helicopter pilot I can tell you LOTS of stories!
Here's my (old biker) advice...
If you operate a technical machine... motorcycle, airplane, helicopter, etc...
NEVER quit learning about it.
A good education may help you avoid your local Emergency Room.
Don't BREAK.
26 June 2016
Home
Home...
Familiar.
Normal.
Everything in its place and a place for everything.
Nice.
Boring.
New location...
Different view.
Different surroundings.
Different people.
Exotic? Yeah, maybe a little.
"Where's my stuff?"
Stay a few days.
Neat.
Learn.
Enjoy.
Back home.
Normal.
Everything in its place and a place for everything.
Familiar.
COMFORTABLE.
WONDERFUL.
Better than anything else.
Travel is more than a good thing.
It focuses your thoughts on how you've made your HOME a home.
It reinforces why/how home IS home.
Travel is necessary and wonderful.
We're glad we went
We're SO glad to be home.
Familiar.
Normal.
Everything in its place and a place for everything.
Nice.
Boring.
New location...
Different view.
Different surroundings.
Different people.
Exotic? Yeah, maybe a little.
"Where's my stuff?"
Stay a few days.
Neat.
Learn.
Enjoy.
Back home.
Normal.
Everything in its place and a place for everything.
Familiar.
COMFORTABLE.
WONDERFUL.
Better than anything else.
Travel is more than a good thing.
It focuses your thoughts on how you've made your HOME a home.
It reinforces why/how home IS home.
Travel is necessary and wonderful.
We're glad we went
We're SO glad to be home.
19 June 2016
Happy Father's Day
My Father died 13 years ago of lung cancer.
He was a smoker.
I nagged him to stop.
He resented my nagging.
He was also one of those "Macho" guys with a wall around him to keep others at a certain distance.
Sara Jean and I worked on that for years, and by the end of his life had moved that wall considerably.
My sister always claimed the two of us had been raised by completely different parents...
Almost six years my junior, she was right.
From my viewpoint she was always "Daddy's girl" and was a consistent source of friction between me and Dad.
In the worst argument we ever had, when I was sixteen, Dad and I were face-to-face and he drew back and made a fist.
Almost a grown man by this time I cautioned him...
"Dad, I'm not sure you want to do that. You may whup me now, but soon you won't be able to!"
He relaxed his fist. We talked.
And the resolution to the problem was to put a lock on my bedroom door to keep my room from being trashed.
From this narrative you can discern that my Dad and I DID NOT have a perfect relationship.
But I loved him. He loved me. There was never any question of that.
Our relationship grew closer as we both aged.
I was always proud of him...
He could do most anything he set his mind to... expertly.
I know he was proud of my accomplishments. As a matter of fact, I often wonder if my success at some of the things he had always dreamed of was part of the friction between us.
After all the nagging about smoking, I was angry about his lung cancer diagnosis.
Truly, I'm not sure he could have avoided lung CA... he had smoked SO many years.
Watching him weaken and slowly fade, my sister and I coordinated our efforts to care for Dad, (and by doing so, take much of the burden off Mom's shoulders).
We all worked as a team.
How many young boys don't have a male figure in their lives, providing support, and at least showing that men, just by "bringing home the bacon", show a willingness to bear a responsibility to their families?
My Dad wasn't perfect. But even through his mistakes I learned things I used to make my relationship with my own son better.
Dad, I'm thankful that during those last weeks of your life you knew we were there to make your exit from this life as comfortable as possible.
I'm grateful that you were able to let us know you appreciated our efforts.
I think of you every day. I miss being able to share stuff about our mutual interests in flying, nature, and mechanics.
And I will ALWAYS be thankful our last years were not like those we shared together under one roof.
God be with you 'til we meet again.
He was a smoker.
I nagged him to stop.
He resented my nagging.
He was also one of those "Macho" guys with a wall around him to keep others at a certain distance.
Sara Jean and I worked on that for years, and by the end of his life had moved that wall considerably.
My sister always claimed the two of us had been raised by completely different parents...
Almost six years my junior, she was right.
From my viewpoint she was always "Daddy's girl" and was a consistent source of friction between me and Dad.
In the worst argument we ever had, when I was sixteen, Dad and I were face-to-face and he drew back and made a fist.
Almost a grown man by this time I cautioned him...
"Dad, I'm not sure you want to do that. You may whup me now, but soon you won't be able to!"
He relaxed his fist. We talked.
And the resolution to the problem was to put a lock on my bedroom door to keep my room from being trashed.
From this narrative you can discern that my Dad and I DID NOT have a perfect relationship.
But I loved him. He loved me. There was never any question of that.
Our relationship grew closer as we both aged.
I was always proud of him...
He could do most anything he set his mind to... expertly.
I know he was proud of my accomplishments. As a matter of fact, I often wonder if my success at some of the things he had always dreamed of was part of the friction between us.
After all the nagging about smoking, I was angry about his lung cancer diagnosis.
Truly, I'm not sure he could have avoided lung CA... he had smoked SO many years.
Watching him weaken and slowly fade, my sister and I coordinated our efforts to care for Dad, (and by doing so, take much of the burden off Mom's shoulders).
We all worked as a team.
How many young boys don't have a male figure in their lives, providing support, and at least showing that men, just by "bringing home the bacon", show a willingness to bear a responsibility to their families?
My Dad wasn't perfect. But even through his mistakes I learned things I used to make my relationship with my own son better.
Dad, I'm thankful that during those last weeks of your life you knew we were there to make your exit from this life as comfortable as possible.
I'm grateful that you were able to let us know you appreciated our efforts.
I think of you every day. I miss being able to share stuff about our mutual interests in flying, nature, and mechanics.
And I will ALWAYS be thankful our last years were not like those we shared together under one roof.
God be with you 'til we meet again.
15 June 2016
The Koran
I want an education.
I'm even considering trying to start a conversation with an official at our local Muslim place of worship.
I want to know what the Koran says.
I'm told the Koran, like the Bible, has contradictions.
Contradictions in the Bible are resolved by Christ's appearance on earth.
The New Testament establishes new rules-
Love the Lord.
Love others as you love the Lord.
What does the Koran say?
This is where I need expert input.
I'm told followers of Islam are told to do one of three things with "infidels"...(that's you and me).
1. Tax them.
2. Enslave them.
3. Kill them, and the preferred method of execution is beheading.
How much of this is true?
Today, from many friends I used to consider intelligent, I'm hearing "religion is the problem".
True Christians ARE NOT the problem.
Please...
Someone who knows more about the "Religion of Peace"...
Tell me the truth, and cite where I can get an education on the subject.
I'm even considering trying to start a conversation with an official at our local Muslim place of worship.
I want to know what the Koran says.
I'm told the Koran, like the Bible, has contradictions.
Contradictions in the Bible are resolved by Christ's appearance on earth.
The New Testament establishes new rules-
Love the Lord.
Love others as you love the Lord.
What does the Koran say?
This is where I need expert input.
I'm told followers of Islam are told to do one of three things with "infidels"...(that's you and me).
1. Tax them.
2. Enslave them.
3. Kill them, and the preferred method of execution is beheading.
How much of this is true?
Today, from many friends I used to consider intelligent, I'm hearing "religion is the problem".
True Christians ARE NOT the problem.
Please...
Someone who knows more about the "Religion of Peace"...
Tell me the truth, and cite where I can get an education on the subject.
02 June 2016
I HAVE To Kill You.
As is so often the case, I can't even remember the discussion that led us to get into the subject in the first place. But I was talking with a guy I THOUGHT I knew well...
He was my neighbor growing up. We went to the same grade school, same Jr. High, same High School. We were drafted into the Army within months of one another. He's a Viet Nam Veteran.
He's a Christian who practices his faith by doing wonderful works. I admire that in him, tremendously.
But, on this day, the bottom fell out. We were discussing the sorry state of our Nation. Somewhere in the discussion his shoulders slumped and his expression changed.
"I'm just one guy... what can I do?" he asked.
And I realized I no longer really knew this man I had "known" for sixty years.
I also realized my desperate need to find others who feel as I do and surround my family with them.
History is a hard teacher.
George Santayana is credited with the quote about those that don't know it being forced to repeat it.
And the rest of us have to suffer as we watch our world crumble while folks on "Watters' World" continue to vote.
I'm paying attention to Europe. Because with the "I'm just one guy, what can I do?" attitude, that's where we're headed. And that's interesting to me because of a guy named Neville Chamberlain.
If you don't recognize the name, do the research and learn some history.
I shout at the TV a LOT lately.
Our nation, founded on Christian principles, is at war with an enemy and we don't even want to admit it.
My Holy Book tells me to love everyone, including my foe.
Their Holy Book tells them they must do one of three things with people that do not believe as they do:
-Tax them.
-Enslave them.
-Or KILL them, with beheading being a preferable method of dispatch.
"Not all Muslims are bad people" I often hear folks on TV say.
And then I scream at the box... "The 'good Muslims' aren't paying attention to their Holy Book!"
But... I'm just one guy.
What can I do?
He was my neighbor growing up. We went to the same grade school, same Jr. High, same High School. We were drafted into the Army within months of one another. He's a Viet Nam Veteran.
He's a Christian who practices his faith by doing wonderful works. I admire that in him, tremendously.
But, on this day, the bottom fell out. We were discussing the sorry state of our Nation. Somewhere in the discussion his shoulders slumped and his expression changed.
"I'm just one guy... what can I do?" he asked.
And I realized I no longer really knew this man I had "known" for sixty years.
I also realized my desperate need to find others who feel as I do and surround my family with them.
History is a hard teacher.
George Santayana is credited with the quote about those that don't know it being forced to repeat it.
And the rest of us have to suffer as we watch our world crumble while folks on "Watters' World" continue to vote.
I'm paying attention to Europe. Because with the "I'm just one guy, what can I do?" attitude, that's where we're headed. And that's interesting to me because of a guy named Neville Chamberlain.
If you don't recognize the name, do the research and learn some history.
I shout at the TV a LOT lately.
Our nation, founded on Christian principles, is at war with an enemy and we don't even want to admit it.
My Holy Book tells me to love everyone, including my foe.
Their Holy Book tells them they must do one of three things with people that do not believe as they do:
-Tax them.
-Enslave them.
-Or KILL them, with beheading being a preferable method of dispatch.
"Not all Muslims are bad people" I often hear folks on TV say.
And then I scream at the box... "The 'good Muslims' aren't paying attention to their Holy Book!"
But... I'm just one guy.
What can I do?
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