tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-116287542024-03-18T17:25:30.451-04:00Fat in IndianaJoehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.comBlogger7908125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-10257694292300850322024-03-18T06:30:00.001-04:002024-03-18T06:30:00.136-04:00It occurs to me<p>I married my wife for her looks. </p><p>Just not the ones she’s been giving me lately.</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-60975771729225971552024-03-17T08:12:00.002-04:002024-03-17T08:12:51.368-04:00You know what you can do with your fake holiday?<p>I am not wearing green. I am not doing any of that fake St. Patrick's crap. I am not eating corned beef. I am not eating soda bread. I sure as heck will not swill Guinness. I refuse to even eat Lucky Charms today. It is a matter of principle. </p><p>St. Patrick came from what is now England for goodness sake. He was likely British of Roman heritage. Learn some history. </p><p>He was a slave. I suppose reparations are in order for everyone of British Roman ancestry. </p><p>If Patrick really ran the snakes out of Ireland that was a good thing. Of course he did not, but I hate snakes so there is that. </p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-15915402832718984862024-03-16T07:29:00.003-04:002024-03-17T07:53:25.950-04:00Money for Nuthin'<p>I haven't forgotten about you. Last week was a busy, busy week at work. Yesterday I started at 5AM and finally shut down my laptop around 4:30 in the afternoon. Under Bernie Sanders insane 32 hour workweek proposal I would have made beaucoup bucks this week. I had full days of work, and a conference call with China every evening. Every single night. I will next week too. The good news is my big quote/bid was finished and submitted on time yesterday. </p><p>Have you read about Commie Bernie Sanders' plan? You can tell the guy has never worked a day in his life outside of the public trough. I suppose I have to explain it yet again. Businesses <i>do not exist to provide jobs. </i>Repeat that phrase until you get it. A business exists to make money. They hire people to help them make money. If a business could get by with no employees it would. A business (at least before government mandates -- <i>spit</i>) only offers benefits like holidays, insurance, etc. so that they can attract good people to come to work for them. They pay the market rate for workers that allows them to get the level of competency they need to get the product out the door. No more (again unless they are forced to by government mandate -- minimum wage). </p><p>Sanders believes a company should pay for forty hours of work for thirty-two hours of actual work. If you work more than eight hours you get time and a half -- for the FULL day. More than twelve hours then you get double time for the whole day. Think inflation sucks currently? Go to Bernie's plan and see what happens.</p><p>Of course idiots with no economic understanding will think this is a great idea. The same people who think a $15 hour minimum wage is terrific but do not understand why a Big Mac meal now costs $18 will love getting paid for not working. </p><p>Heck, I would like to work 32 hours and get paid for 40. I suppose we all would. I am not opposed to money. I like it. I wish I had more of it. I am also not an economic illiterate and understand nothing is free, that a business has to make a profit to survive. Employees must contribute to the bottom line or they are not needed. Unless you work for the government. Then you just take money from my paycheck in order for you to get a paycheck of your own. If you do not like that characterization, then you need to think on the whole money supply situation a little more and maybe leave the room while the grownups talk.</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-34351477902475104922024-03-15T14:13:00.000-04:002024-03-15T14:13:00.498-04:00Next week starts a new season…<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RBxK3CcOQD8" width="320" youtube-src-id="RBxK3CcOQD8"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-34800183499241626332024-03-14T10:18:00.003-04:002024-03-14T10:18:40.822-04:00Knock Knock<p> Who is there?:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/uA2zODu1nJw" width="320" youtube-src-id="uA2zODu1nJw"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-2576512704649733942024-03-13T16:17:00.002-04:002024-03-13T16:17:39.215-04:00You did ask nicely <p> What?</p><p>Sure, I’ll post up some Blind Faith:</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/FJIuzl1jx7w" width="320" youtube-src-id="FJIuzl1jx7w"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-87478970107560810912024-03-12T14:30:00.001-04:002024-03-12T14:30:51.033-04:00Grab a a Kleenex Blogging will take a backseat for the next several days. It is just the way it is. Not only am in a funk creativity-wise, I’m buried at work. <div><br /></div><div>I hate it and you are likely fighting tears of outrage and disappointment. We will both survive.</div><div><br /></div><div>No, I’m not about to drop some Gloria Gaynor on you. </div><div><br /></div><div>I will give the gift of Pure Prairie League though:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Tu8v0aGOONA" width="320" youtube-src-id="Tu8v0aGOONA"></iframe></div><br /><div><br /></div>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-46745523087526797432024-03-11T06:45:00.001-04:002024-03-11T06:45:35.737-04:00Supporting the LGBT Cause<p> I have gone from indifferent to a supporter.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisNyUGpL7XyiHDv2l9ISDVx1Qt4ufPqPIXOUGK9TpR6ZuVkSGVM77r_FzijiQWtmGBwQbij5nRC4hf_ZriAP6pg6q9l17A1ekntmZkXdUnCQZGg3SOSHzGke6K12JlAKp4tpQ-hhJ_5UILZlvi1vq6sI7EtZygC-fOlC8HeeyZuBpxqAztf81/s675/Screenshot%202024-03-09%20at%208.11.49%E2%80%AFPM.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="645" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisNyUGpL7XyiHDv2l9ISDVx1Qt4ufPqPIXOUGK9TpR6ZuVkSGVM77r_FzijiQWtmGBwQbij5nRC4hf_ZriAP6pg6q9l17A1ekntmZkXdUnCQZGg3SOSHzGke6K12JlAKp4tpQ-hhJ_5UILZlvi1vq6sI7EtZygC-fOlC8HeeyZuBpxqAztf81/s320/Screenshot%202024-03-09%20at%208.11.49%E2%80%AFPM.jpeg" width="306" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-15950240707548923932024-03-10T08:19:00.001-04:002024-03-10T08:19:35.062-04:00Pointless<p>Three words: stupid time change. Four words: stupid unnecessary time change. </p><p>How about some classic country music to salve our anger? There is a lesson in this song. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/7UVVS5-9HvA" width="320" youtube-src-id="7UVVS5-9HvA"></iframe></div><br /><p><br /></p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-4424126845537020292024-03-09T07:10:00.003-05:002024-03-09T07:14:32.571-05:00The stuff you see<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqX0S6S7ZgRvYmkvYphrO-wb2OkolfMVyr4ogYBc5suSxwOa6zXeWf5vNv4lD5V2JqLx04cVrd_EWKLn0tLjQkhz8xCYMvvWB5wbT5fscK_jRBGoVe_QTra-h2IIlzqHKlnVkMH0XijtfeZT667vtLz5mlmFGv28qAYGuo3RaExoL2Tp9g2aE/s2048/913378F2-07EB-4FE9-9A10-606CA2A942CA.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqX0S6S7ZgRvYmkvYphrO-wb2OkolfMVyr4ogYBc5suSxwOa6zXeWf5vNv4lD5V2JqLx04cVrd_EWKLn0tLjQkhz8xCYMvvWB5wbT5fscK_jRBGoVe_QTra-h2IIlzqHKlnVkMH0XijtfeZT667vtLz5mlmFGv28qAYGuo3RaExoL2Tp9g2aE/s320/913378F2-07EB-4FE9-9A10-606CA2A942CA.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Sometimes a pictures does not tell a story, it takes words. That picture over on the right is just such a case. It was a hurried snapshot taken from the back seat of a Buick van hurtling down a Chinese highway at seventy-plus mph. <p></p><p>We are driving along and I’m watching the un-scenic scenery whiz by. Suddenly our driver shouts something in Chinese and starts laughing. </p><p>He points at the white SUV in front of us and puts hands together moving them apart and together like an alligator mouth, making an <i>ahnk, ahnk</i> noise. The driver grabbed his phone and took a picture.</p><p>It only took me a second to grab my phone as well. Go ahead, embiggen the picture. That is, indeed, a couple of bags filled with ducks hung from the back of the car. Yes, they are alive. The one on the left had his head poked out watching the same un-scenic scenery I was viewing. </p><p>Hey, if I need to take a couple of ducks into town I’d be reluctant to let them loose inside my car. Duck poop is, well, fowl. Ingenuity is not a unique American trait. </p><p>That was the funniest, best part of my trip.</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-71821528467170364192024-03-08T08:55:00.002-05:002024-03-08T08:55:48.252-05:00Notes From My Field Trip<p> <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYoA1iWJ8UKOAWUd8p33ZnKZXxvIsP16248OQN4Y8YPIVB9kaK3gMFWxKAZMbAari5bDjjGtaUHup8dHeaoATksn8hsveqzNBWxcLfkW7pATQLwwRmXEVTgea7hOejPcZNQ9P63REVeiA0DPaHyedBepAZUVtjKMn660aUP5gQwuDqks_3Q3sK/s2048/00792AEF-A563-4A49-A73C-5FFDC18FF331.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYoA1iWJ8UKOAWUd8p33ZnKZXxvIsP16248OQN4Y8YPIVB9kaK3gMFWxKAZMbAari5bDjjGtaUHup8dHeaoATksn8hsveqzNBWxcLfkW7pATQLwwRmXEVTgea7hOejPcZNQ9P63REVeiA0DPaHyedBepAZUVtjKMn660aUP5gQwuDqks_3Q3sK/w240-h320/00792AEF-A563-4A49-A73C-5FFDC18FF331.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2024 Guangde, China</td></tr></tbody></table>On the surface, China is modern. Their highway system is wide, smooth, efficient. The cars are modern and sport badges you recognize: BMW, Benz, Toyota, GM, Ford., Nissan.</p><p>Construction cranes dot the skyline building high rises everywhere you look. </p><p>Citizens wear fashionable western clothing, often name brands. </p><p>Then you remember often these name brands are knock-offs or made to a different standard than you might buy in Germany or Ohio. </p><p>You forget the wealthy live really, really well, while the poor are really, really poor. If you think there is a wealth gap here, take a gander at the average Chinese factory worker compared to middle management vs the owner class. </p><p>Factory workers spend the day at their desk if they are office workers or at their machine in the factory wearing heavy coats because the factory is not heated. I had to wear my coat the whole time I was there to keep warm. </p><p>China looks like a modern western country on the surface and women have a hole in the floor for bathroom facilities. </p><p>I remember my visit to Beijing back in 2013 or 2014. I stayed in a modern western hotel (Sheraton?) a few blocks from the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square. As we left in our little bus to tour the Great Wall, we passed a government building hosting some ministry or another. The building was gorgeous. The boulevard we were on was wide and one-way. We circled the block to head the opposite direction. The back of the building was a contrast to the facade. Rust streaks ran down the walls from falling gutters. Stonework was crumbling, trash made unsightly piles against the walls. </p><p>That is China, it looks great on he surface but is a crumbling third world country behind the fancy exterior.</p><p>The people are kind and funny and hard working. They want what we all want, security and a better life for their children. The people are not their government. </p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-41246581832277015222024-03-07T07:50:00.002-05:002024-03-07T11:31:09.086-05:00burn,baby, burn<p>Today we salute Caresse Crosby, publisher, socialite, and inventor. Was her invention a great thing or the bane of society? That is not for me to say, I have never used it. I have fought to get it unlocked, and have found it frustrating. I leave it to you to decide if she is a hero or not.</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-46310758267643303952024-03-06T06:14:00.004-05:002024-03-06T13:53:54.182-05:00This post is why my content is free<p>Looks at the blinking cursor. Uh...frowns. Do <i>not </i>write about the weather. Does anyone care why I spent the day at various doctors Monday? Not really. Are there any interesting stories from my trip behind the Bamboo Curtain? Nope, I worked pretty much the whole time. No sightseeing at all beyond what I saw from a car window — buildings and highways and manufacturing plants. Pizza for dinner last night, who cares? Politics, I think 37 years of blogging leaves no confusion about where I stand. </p><p>You know what this means, right? Yes music!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/iNg1o8HeiSo" width="320" youtube-src-id="iNg1o8HeiSo"></iframe></div><br /><p>It hate to question the integrity of Dick Clark, but no mics on the singers. The guitar is not plugged in. There is a piano, but no organ. No bass. No drums. I suspect lip syncing is involved.</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-69582467392927693952024-03-05T07:12:00.006-05:002024-03-05T07:12:49.206-05:00Patience<p>I'm still trying to get caught up. Patience please.</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-86592244276923845572024-03-03T09:55:00.001-05:002024-03-03T09:55:16.742-05:00We’ve Got to Quit Meeting Like This<p>I’m considering getting out the smoker and doing some BBQ today. It is going to be an exceptional spring day here in Hoosierdom. We shall see. If I had that new pellet smoker I wanted for Christmas it would be a sure thing; smoked something would be on the dinner table this evening. </p><p>There are four guys on the industrial sales team where I work. My boss went with me to China, so half of the team was in the Dallas airport Friday night. As we cleared customs, my boss checked his messages. He chuckled and told me another of our team just happened to be connecting through Dallas from Mexico that same exact time time. We had a long layover, so wandered over to the B Terminal for an informal 3/4 of the team meeting. </p><p>Travel is strange like that. Once one of my former Boy Scouts from when I was an Assistant Scout Master sat across the aisle from me on a trip to Portland, Oregon. We have run into people my wife knows from Indiana multiple times while on vacation in Florida. I met my buyer and his quality manager from one of my big customers once in the business class lounge at the Shanghai airport. We were on the same flights back to Indy. </p><p>Life is sometimes strange and wonderful.</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-65073497063073782012024-03-02T09:25:00.005-05:002024-03-02T12:04:09.962-05:00Back Home Again, in Indiana<p>I rolled into the driveway just before 2am local time. It was a 31 hour day, with maybe less than an hour’s sleep (doze is probably a better word). Two days like that in six makes your body confused. It was the longest March first I have experienced. </p><p>I woke up at around 6:00 in the morning in Shanghai. Did emails, showered, and ate breakfast. I then goofed off, read, and did work: the paying kind. I met up with my boss for coffee. I worked a little more, going over some data with him.</p><p>We headed to the airport a little after 1:00 pm. It is still March first. We stood in a massive line to check into our flight. Went through Chinese customs. Then security. We ate a light and late lunch and finally boarded the flight to Dallas. It was 6:00 pm on March first. We flew and flew. I watched a movie. Ate. Watched another movie. Tried to sleep without success. I looked for and tried to watch the worst movie ever. I finally dozed a little. At some point we crossed the International date line somewhere near the Alaska / Russia border. That means it is now...March First. We keep on flying. I hate my airline seat. We eat again. I read. I finish one book and started another. Breakfast is served. We arrive at Dallas. It is March first. By the time I clear customs, go back through security (I know it doesn’t make sense). It is near 6:00pm on March f-ing first. </p><p>I’m in the same position, sitting in a airport gate waiting area at six PM on March first on the same day. I know, it’s quickly getting TLDR. I boarded another plane around 8:30. My butt has become allergic to airplane seats. I squirm in discomfort the entire flight. Got to Indy just before midnight on March first. Yes, it was a 30 hour March first. The plane is delayed on the tarmac for about twenty minutes. I rode the bus to the airport economy lot, found my car. I forgot I need to get gas. Said bad words I will not repeat. Ultimately got home around 1:45 am on what now was <i>finally</i> March second. </p><p>I’ve heard so many times: I wish I had your job, that travel seems like fun. You think?</p><p>What? Yes the trip was fine. It was cold and wet, in the thirties and forties. More on that later. </p><p>You don’t want me to go back to boring weather reports do you? Let me save a little blog fodder.</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-9179761828273914372024-03-01T06:19:00.003-05:002024-03-01T06:19:00.136-05:00well that took a dark turn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/IaKgQATdB6I" width="320" youtube-src-id="IaKgQATdB6I"></iframe></div><br />By the time you read this I should be ensconced within a flying tube winging my way eastward across the Pacific. I write <i>should</i> because I really have no idea if I am flying home or not. <div><br /></div><div>No, I’m neither drunk nor on drugs. You may or may not know google is banned in the People’s Republic of China. That means no blogging on the blogger platform without jumping through many VPN hoops. Since I don’t blog on the company computer, this entire post was written, wrapped, and canned before I ever left home. </div><div><br /></div><div>If you are a person who looks for the dark side of any situation, I might have died in a fiery crash on the way over to the Worker’s Paradise. A number of calamities may have struck while transversing the country. I might have been delayed in returning home on schedule. That happened to me the last time I was in China. I was asked to stay an extra five days so I could hand carry samples back. These things happen. </div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe I will post tomorrow. Maybe I won’t. If you read in the paper of a downed airplane on the Indy-Dallas-Shanghai-Dallas-Indy loop, well then....</div><div><br /></div><div>That took a dark turn. I have no concern about flying. I should post on Saturday. Live posts, not the canned crap you have been getting all week. </div><div><br /></div><div>Okay, maybe it will be Sunday before I post again. I will not get home until we’ll past midnight Friday/Saturday. Fighting jet lag and the 12 hour time difference will leave me wiped out Saturday. </div><div><br /></div><div>You might notice I did not post anything about the weather. That’s because I cannot tell you with accuracy what the weather will be a week or more in advance. The weather forecasters cannot either. I </div><div>don’t have the right crystal ball for that. I guess those magic weather balls are all in the hands of leftist climateers. They claim to know about the weather five, ten, or even fifty years in the future. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sorry, if this is my last post I gotta end with a poke at the lefties who are ruining life for freedom loving Americans. 😎</div>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-46129770719802550902024-02-29T07:17:00.001-05:002024-02-29T07:17:00.253-05:00You probably shouldn’t be roaming the interwebz at work anyway<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">One evening a man was at home watching TV and eating peanuts.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">He’d toss them in the air, then catch them in his mouth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">In the middle of catching one, his wife asked a question, and as he turned to answer her, a peanut fell in his ear.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">He tried and tried to dig it out but succeeded in only pushing it in deeper.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">He called his wife for assistance, and after hours of trying they became worried and decided to go to the hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">As they were ready to go out the door, their daughter came home with her date.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">After being informed of the problem, their daughter’s date said he could get the peanut out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The young man told the father to sit down, then shoved two fingers up the father’s nose and told him to blowhard.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">When the father blew, the peanut flew out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The mother and daughter jumped and yelled for joy.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The young man insisted that it was nothing and the daughter brought the young man out to the kitchen for something to eat.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Once he was gone the mother turned to the father.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The mother said,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“That’s wonderful. Isn’t he smart? What do you think he’s going to be when he grows older?!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The father replies<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“From the smell of his fingers, our son-in-law!”</span></p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-3513017011262575482024-02-28T07:36:00.001-05:002024-02-28T07:36:00.129-05:00Everywhere I look<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_YC3sTbAPcU" width="320" youtube-src-id="_YC3sTbAPcU"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p>And boys</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-76956832808825925412024-02-27T07:39:00.001-05:002024-02-27T07:39:00.139-05:00They were fast as lightning<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bmfudW7rbG0" width="320" youtube-src-id="bmfudW7rbG0"></iframe></div><br /> <p></p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-35277887129815071102024-02-26T07:34:00.001-05:002024-02-26T07:34:00.134-05:00Hinting Around<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/y6FPT6gTTqQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="y6FPT6gTTqQ"></iframe></div><br /><p></p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-11919824583289639742024-02-25T07:41:00.001-05:002024-02-25T07:41:00.139-05:00She helped me with my suitcase<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_UoneXjfBC0" width="320" youtube-src-id="_UoneXjfBC0"></iframe></div><br /><p></p><p>Some beautiful music for a Sunday morning.</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-65288923080503008562024-02-24T07:38:00.001-05:002024-02-24T07:38:53.616-05:00A process of maturation <p>It doesn’t happen often. I deleted a long screed right before publishing. It was the kind of rant that was commonplace in these pages in the past. Those kind of posts engendered lots of comments. In some cases they were popular. It may be what draws you here still, looking for a political or cultural opinion. Forty-seven years of blogging here is proof positive I am often willing to throw my thoughts out there and live with the ramifications. Sometimes, I have learned, it is not worth it. Could I be finally growing up when I’m just weeks short of my...let me do the math...62 birthday? </p><p>Or have I become a coward? </p><p>Let me summarize the post like this: if everything is racist, nothing is. I will leave it at that. </p><p>For the record, this is a fresh post, not prewritten days or weeks ago. As proof, there is a dusting of snow outside. I couldn’t know that in advance, could I? Keep that in mind this week. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0f48fpoSEPU" width="320" youtube-src-id="0f48fpoSEPU"></iframe></div><br /><p>Am I the only one who who finds it disturbing Frank is singing a love song with his daughter? </p><p>Happy Saturday.</p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-90359695023204690622024-02-23T06:56:00.006-05:002024-02-23T07:12:53.249-05:00Contacting Customer ServiceHappy Friday, blogateers. I have been buried in work, the paying kind, so my efforts here have been somewhat sparse. Send me a self-addressed envelope and I will return the unused portion of this week’s subscription fee. I’m all about customer service. <div><br /></div><div>Sure, we block pretty much every unknown number here at our one hundred percent American call center, but your call is important. Sorry, due to the high volume of calls your wait time may be longer than usual. Please leave a message and I will return your call at my earliest convenience.The best way to contact me is to send an email that does not get caught in my spam filter. It is probably best not to use that silly hot mail email address I remember to check about once every two months to reach me. Try this number instead: 867-5309. Ask for Jenny.</div>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11628754.post-53398386755159609092024-02-21T10:59:00.003-05:002024-02-21T10:59:50.395-05:00Been there...<p> <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">An elderly couple were sitting outdoors at a cafe when they noticed an old man who seemed to be having trouble crossing the street with an ungainly shuffle.</span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The man said to his wife, “He surely has bad arthritis to walk like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">His wife replied, “No, that’s definitely old time rheumatism.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">They couldn’t agree so the man decided to ask the old man.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">He walked over to him and said,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“Excuse me, sir, but my wife and I saw you having difficulty crossing the street and I told her that you have arthritis but she insisted that you have rheumatism.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Which one of us was wrong?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The old man said, “The three of us were wrong.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“Three of us were wrong? How so?” asked the man.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">To which the old man replied,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleTallBody; font-size: 17px; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #363636; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">“You were wrong when you said I had arthritis, your wife was wrong when she said I had rheumatism, and I was wrong when I thought I just had to pass gas.”</span></p>Joehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17269114655802698386noreply@blogger.com3