Driving in the automobile yesterday, listening to my iPod, one song came on that described my relationship to this old blog:
It is a habit. I am used to it. I am just not sure I have much left to say.
On the other hand, at least two ideas for blog posts occurred to me during my drive from Chicago last night. That is good news for both of you who stop by every day. You will get fresh content in the coming days! I know -- that is certainly cause for champagne and caviar.
Today is my youngest son's 18th birthday. The joyous date has caused a great deal of evil looks and comments directed at me by my wife in the past weeks. You see, whenever the boy is asked what he wants for his birthday he tells her he wants to have a good cigar. I am pretty sure that desire is my fault. I have no doubt he would like a beer too, but that I will not provide until he is of proper age.
At dinner Tuesday the wife asked him what he was going to do on his birthday. He replied he was coming home from school, smoke a good cigar with Dad and then go out with his friends -- probably to the football game.
The look of malevolence directed at me would have scared the demons of Hell. If the image could have been captured on Kodachrome, it could have been used as a poster to scare off Al Qaeda -- Do not mess with The Great Satan:: this is what American mothers look like when perturbed.
I think I will head to the cigar store this afternoon to get a couple of special stogies. The boy and I will celebrate his birthday and I will welcome him to the brotherhood of the leaf in style.*
Are habits genetic?
* yes I know this makes me look like a shitty parent. He is going to go buy one anyway, so he might as well have a good one instead of a Swisher Sweet or such.
September 30, 2011
September 28, 2011
Hospital Hijinks
Last Tuesday the wife was admitted to the hospital. As I got ready to head home for the night I asked her if she needed me to bring her anything the next morning. She listed her comb and toothbrush among other items.
Wednesday morning I arrived bright and early. I gave her her sundries and she combed and brushed etc.
Wednesday night I came home early from the hospital, since she was still groggy and sleeping from her endoscope. I watched some TV and headed to prepare for bed. It is my usual habit to brush my teeth before hitting the sheets. As i reached into the drawer something was odd. The toothpaste was missing! I had taken the tube to the hospital. I reached into my always ready travel bag and grabbed the small tube that lives there. I picked up my toothbrush, spread on the paste and noticed the toothbrush was blue. "So", you might say. We have had a long-standing and inviolate policy that the wife always uses a blue toothbrush and I have a red one. She is also to NEVER squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle, but that is a separate topic. I had taken her the wrong toothbrush.
Lucky for me, we had a new red brush in the drawer. Unlucky for her she spread my mouth germs into hers that morning.
Thursday morning I put her BLUE brush into a baggie and slipped it into my pocket. After arriving at the hospital, I asked her how she was feeling. She told me fine.
"You are not feeling sick today/" I asked. she told me no.
I replied "I bet I can make you feel sick", and held out the blue toothbrush.
She looked at it and said "It is a toothbrush". I just looked at her . After about ten seconds she uttered with a great deal of disgust "Oh, ugh, I used your toothbrush! Yuck" As soon as the nurse let her out of bed she headed to the bathroom and scrubbed the awfulness of my germs from her mouth.
I guess the multiple antibiotics pumped via IV into her blood killed whatever germs I passed to her.
.
Wednesday morning I arrived bright and early. I gave her her sundries and she combed and brushed etc.
Wednesday night I came home early from the hospital, since she was still groggy and sleeping from her endoscope. I watched some TV and headed to prepare for bed. It is my usual habit to brush my teeth before hitting the sheets. As i reached into the drawer something was odd. The toothpaste was missing! I had taken the tube to the hospital. I reached into my always ready travel bag and grabbed the small tube that lives there. I picked up my toothbrush, spread on the paste and noticed the toothbrush was blue. "So", you might say. We have had a long-standing and inviolate policy that the wife always uses a blue toothbrush and I have a red one. She is also to NEVER squeeze the toothpaste tube in the middle, but that is a separate topic. I had taken her the wrong toothbrush.
Lucky for me, we had a new red brush in the drawer. Unlucky for her she spread my mouth germs into hers that morning.
Thursday morning I put her BLUE brush into a baggie and slipped it into my pocket. After arriving at the hospital, I asked her how she was feeling. She told me fine.
"You are not feeling sick today/" I asked. she told me no.
I replied "I bet I can make you feel sick", and held out the blue toothbrush.
She looked at it and said "It is a toothbrush". I just looked at her . After about ten seconds she uttered with a great deal of disgust "Oh, ugh, I used your toothbrush! Yuck" As soon as the nurse let her out of bed she headed to the bathroom and scrubbed the awfulness of my germs from her mouth.
I guess the multiple antibiotics pumped via IV into her blood killed whatever germs I passed to her.
.
September 27, 2011
Have bag, will travel
My briefcase is filled with assorted items. In the front compartment there is a stack of business cards in a slot.My engraved business card holder, a gift from my wife, is also there. A couple of little pocket-sized notebooks emblazoned with the company logo are half filled with notes.. There is a pen and a mechanical pencil. I just remembered the pencil is out of lead. A front zippered pocket holds many and various frequent traveler cards: airlines, hotels, rental cars. My passport lives there too.
The middle pocket has a padded space for my computer and is also is where I store safety glasses and a couple of pairs of earplugs. There is an opened pack of gum in here also. My Kindle lives in this section when I am traveling. The back section has customer folders, a lined tablet, a small leather-bound tablet and pen, phone lists, and a folder containing receipts. There is also a company catalog. There is a couple of part interchange lists. My memory is not what it used to be. A small tube of Advil lives next to the receipts folder, tuck next to the side of the bag.
It is not really a briefcase, but more of a black leather bag with handles and a shoulder strap.I have gone through many "briefcases" over the years. I now of at least three of the traditional hard square type and two bag type. Daily use and travel plays a heavy toll on bags and people. The current trend in business is towards a backpack. I keep eyeing a bag that looks like an over sized computer bag with room for a change of clothes for overnight travel. Schlepping a bag and a roller bag through the airport is tiresome.
My black briefcase and I spend a lot of time together. It is soft and fits just right on my hip and shoulder. It is getting a bit scuffed. We have been traveling partners for more than five years now. One of these days he is going to be replaced.
The middle pocket has a padded space for my computer and is also is where I store safety glasses and a couple of pairs of earplugs. There is an opened pack of gum in here also. My Kindle lives in this section when I am traveling. The back section has customer folders, a lined tablet, a small leather-bound tablet and pen, phone lists, and a folder containing receipts. There is also a company catalog. There is a couple of part interchange lists. My memory is not what it used to be. A small tube of Advil lives next to the receipts folder, tuck next to the side of the bag.
It is not really a briefcase, but more of a black leather bag with handles and a shoulder strap.I have gone through many "briefcases" over the years. I now of at least three of the traditional hard square type and two bag type. Daily use and travel plays a heavy toll on bags and people. The current trend in business is towards a backpack. I keep eyeing a bag that looks like an over sized computer bag with room for a change of clothes for overnight travel. Schlepping a bag and a roller bag through the airport is tiresome.
My black briefcase and I spend a lot of time together. It is soft and fits just right on my hip and shoulder. It is getting a bit scuffed. We have been traveling partners for more than five years now. One of these days he is going to be replaced.
September 26, 2011
Sorry 'Bout That
Sometimes I take poetic license. Occasionally I get carried away. Usually I amuse myself to no end. I might have gotten a bit over the top with yesterday's installment.
It rained yesterday. It rained a lot. Chuck, the TV weather guy, claimed we got more rain yesterday than all of July and August combined. Of course it is a matter of perspective. When I went outside and took a piss on August 2nd, there was more precipitation on the yard than there was in all of July.
I didn't really take a leak outside, but you get my drift. It was a rather dry summer.
There was some interesting football yesterday. The Colts still suck, and the Steelers really are not that good. Rapersburger seems to hold the ball a long time and the Indy secondary is gawd-awful. How is it possible that Pittsburgh receivers can catch the ball and no Colts defenders are even in the TV picture? This happened more than once! The Patriot lost to the feaking Bills.
I made the wife some sugar cookies -- not the slice and bake kind either. I mixed up the dough myself and baked them. It made her a happy girl. BTW, she is feeling much better. I am a decent cook, but baking is not my favorite of kitchen activities. I can do it, but I find the exact measuring and detailed recipes a bit tedious. I cook more by taste a smell and look I prefer the stovetop to the oven. You cannot operate by the seat of your pants when baking.
Work beckons. have a great Monday.
It rained yesterday. It rained a lot. Chuck, the TV weather guy, claimed we got more rain yesterday than all of July and August combined. Of course it is a matter of perspective. When I went outside and took a piss on August 2nd, there was more precipitation on the yard than there was in all of July.
I didn't really take a leak outside, but you get my drift. It was a rather dry summer.
There was some interesting football yesterday. The Colts still suck, and the Steelers really are not that good. Rapersburger seems to hold the ball a long time and the Indy secondary is gawd-awful. How is it possible that Pittsburgh receivers can catch the ball and no Colts defenders are even in the TV picture? This happened more than once! The Patriot lost to the feaking Bills.
I made the wife some sugar cookies -- not the slice and bake kind either. I mixed up the dough myself and baked them. It made her a happy girl. BTW, she is feeling much better. I am a decent cook, but baking is not my favorite of kitchen activities. I can do it, but I find the exact measuring and detailed recipes a bit tedious. I cook more by taste a smell and look I prefer the stovetop to the oven. You cannot operate by the seat of your pants when baking.
Work beckons. have a great Monday.
September 25, 2011
National CCW -- Six Arguments in Favor
I sometimes compose the wit and wisdom of this piece o'crap site while doing other activities. I am very good at multitasking. I had a long political post writing itself in my cranium while I was mowing the yard yesterday.
Picture a bunch of monkeys sitting at cheap desks deep in my cranium pounding away at old Underwood typewriters. There is probably a bunch of whiteout in use. Not all of it is sniffed. A couple of the typewriting primates are smoking cigars. Another is drinking beer. One is just hitting keys at random. One little spastic rhesus monkey is in charge of research, but he can never seem to keep focus on the task at hand. One old monkey wearing a Cubs hat seems to function as a pseudo-editor. His ADHD keeps him distracted. That is how my posts are written.
So, back to the post my monkeys and I were working on yesterday. I have scrapped it in my mind along with the treatise on the French Foreign Legion, a long dissertation on the Cold War and a discussion of the Julio-Claudian women. I decided I did not want to spend a Sunday morning ranting about liberal dipshits like Al Sharpton or Morgan Freeman. Their hypocrisy and idiocy is apparent for all to see -- if you choose.
This decision is not too popular. The monkeys are screaming and throwing shit balls around my corpus callosum in a fit of rage right now. They want me to really expose old Morgan Freeman for the ignorant motherfucker he truly is. I am not going there. The Great Apes are in a rage. They yell that instead of wasting their talents on political rants while I pushed the mower, they could have been composing intricate sexual fantasies involving nurses costumes and thigh-high fishnet stockings with garter belts. The tufted capuchin is shrieking about how we should have focused on the mowing yesterday instead of progressive idiocy and I might not have cut down that orange chrysanthemum..
Things are turning ugly.
Oh my god, one of the spider monkeys has just smashed a whiskey bottle on the edge of my parietal lobe! He is waving it around dangerously. He's "gonna cut my white ass" if I don't expose The Obama for the Trotskyite he is. One of the chimps just turned over his desk. He is throwing his neatly typed pages into the air. A fight has broken out near the Lateral Sulcus. The editor monkey is just sitting there, smoking an H Upmann Chairman's Reserve and laughing at the chaos.. He suggests I read some other blogs until things calm down.
I need some more coffee first.
Picture a bunch of monkeys sitting at cheap desks deep in my cranium pounding away at old Underwood typewriters. There is probably a bunch of whiteout in use. Not all of it is sniffed. A couple of the typewriting primates are smoking cigars. Another is drinking beer. One is just hitting keys at random. One little spastic rhesus monkey is in charge of research, but he can never seem to keep focus on the task at hand. One old monkey wearing a Cubs hat seems to function as a pseudo-editor. His ADHD keeps him distracted. That is how my posts are written.
So, back to the post my monkeys and I were working on yesterday. I have scrapped it in my mind along with the treatise on the French Foreign Legion, a long dissertation on the Cold War and a discussion of the Julio-Claudian women. I decided I did not want to spend a Sunday morning ranting about liberal dipshits like Al Sharpton or Morgan Freeman. Their hypocrisy and idiocy is apparent for all to see -- if you choose.
This decision is not too popular. The monkeys are screaming and throwing shit balls around my corpus callosum in a fit of rage right now. They want me to really expose old Morgan Freeman for the ignorant motherfucker he truly is. I am not going there. The Great Apes are in a rage. They yell that instead of wasting their talents on political rants while I pushed the mower, they could have been composing intricate sexual fantasies involving nurses costumes and thigh-high fishnet stockings with garter belts. The tufted capuchin is shrieking about how we should have focused on the mowing yesterday instead of progressive idiocy and I might not have cut down that orange chrysanthemum..
Things are turning ugly.
Oh my god, one of the spider monkeys has just smashed a whiskey bottle on the edge of my parietal lobe! He is waving it around dangerously. He's "gonna cut my white ass" if I don't expose The Obama for the Trotskyite he is. One of the chimps just turned over his desk. He is throwing his neatly typed pages into the air. A fight has broken out near the Lateral Sulcus. The editor monkey is just sitting there, smoking an H Upmann Chairman's Reserve and laughing at the chaos.. He suggests I read some other blogs until things calm down.
I need some more coffee first.
September 24, 2011
Saturday In the Park
Wew!, What a week. Things went to hell Tuesday and never slowed down.But the weekend is here, so three cheers for Saturday.
I was deep into a trip to the northern extremes of the Hoosier state, just south of Warsaw, Tuesday afternoon when my cell phone rang. It was my daughter. She asked if anyone had called me. I thought it a strange question.
She informed me my wife had been taken by ambulance to the local hospital. She had no further details. I spun the wheel at the next county road interchange and reversed course down Indiana Highway 15. A long two plus hours later, I was back where I started early that afternoon. I pulled into the hospital parking lot and began the process of tracking down my fair spouse. Her ongoing gastrointestinal issues had reached a critical juncture. Pain, nausea and bleeding had finally put her in the hospital. Her hemoglobin was a measly 7.1 ( a healthy woman is 12-14). She was admitted for further treatment.
Later that night the hemoglobin fell to 5.6 so blood transfusions were ordered. She had scopes and antibiotics and other hospital-type care until Friday evening when the medicos reluctantly sent her home. She has to have more scopes and stuff in the future. I am glad she is home, but not as happy as she is to be here.
Her care was excellent, but I will say I found the hospital to be a bit depressing -- it is full of sick people.
But my girl is home and doing fine. Life is good.
Be safe and enjoy your weekend.
I was deep into a trip to the northern extremes of the Hoosier state, just south of Warsaw, Tuesday afternoon when my cell phone rang. It was my daughter. She asked if anyone had called me. I thought it a strange question.
She informed me my wife had been taken by ambulance to the local hospital. She had no further details. I spun the wheel at the next county road interchange and reversed course down Indiana Highway 15. A long two plus hours later, I was back where I started early that afternoon. I pulled into the hospital parking lot and began the process of tracking down my fair spouse. Her ongoing gastrointestinal issues had reached a critical juncture. Pain, nausea and bleeding had finally put her in the hospital. Her hemoglobin was a measly 7.1 ( a healthy woman is 12-14). She was admitted for further treatment.
Later that night the hemoglobin fell to 5.6 so blood transfusions were ordered. She had scopes and antibiotics and other hospital-type care until Friday evening when the medicos reluctantly sent her home. She has to have more scopes and stuff in the future. I am glad she is home, but not as happy as she is to be here.
Her care was excellent, but I will say I found the hospital to be a bit depressing -- it is full of sick people.
But my girl is home and doing fine. Life is good.
Be safe and enjoy your weekend.
September 21, 2011
Wayback Wednesday: Local Music Edition
if you were a teen or young adult in the late 1970's there was some great music being made. In those days even the small towns had a band or two. These bands played in the local bars and played high school and college dances. There were some great musicians and song writers out there.
If you were in Central Indiana you probably heard this gem played live. It remains one of the most beautiful songs ever written:
These guys played at about half of my College and Fraternity dances. I have seen them countless times. If you were cool and listened to WNAP you know this song:
Here is one from some boys from my home town. It got some limited local airplay: Bodacious was the first band I ever saw in "concert". They played at a number of my high school dances too.
In any discussion of local bands from yesterday. how can we leave out Henry Lee?
And finally here is one by my favorite contemporary local band:
If you were in Central Indiana you probably heard this gem played live. It remains one of the most beautiful songs ever written:
These guys played at about half of my College and Fraternity dances. I have seen them countless times. If you were cool and listened to WNAP you know this song:
Here is one from some boys from my home town. It got some limited local airplay: Bodacious was the first band I ever saw in "concert". They played at a number of my high school dances too.
In any discussion of local bands from yesterday. how can we leave out Henry Lee?
And finally here is one by my favorite contemporary local band:
September 20, 2011
Poked and prodded
I went to the doctor this morning. The medico was pleased. My blood pressure, cholesterol,and sugars are all OK. My weight was good, but I have gained three pounds since my last visit. The doc did not mention it, so that must be fine too. It is not fine with me, more exercise and better eating is on tap. I did get a flu shot. They did not even offer me a sucker.
September 19, 2011
President Obama's Policy
As a handy-dandy aid to my readers, here is a Cliff Notes/Sperk Notes version of President Obama's Deficit Plan -- before he has even released it:
Tax. Spend.
That description will also work for his Jobs Plan. In fact, he is the stereotypical Democrat.
Tax. Spend. That policy sums up the President's policies. When that does not work propose even more of the same. Repeat. Throw in a few blame the Republicans/Bush/anyone/anything possible. Tax. Spend. Repeat.
Can we stand four more years of this?
UPDATE. Now we have heard from The Obama:. Tax the 'Rich" That is his plan.
The Downgrade-in-Chief keeps talking about people paying their "fair share" of taxes.
Will one of you Democrat/Liberal/Progressive types define for me "fair"?
Please?
Tax. Spend.
That description will also work for his Jobs Plan. In fact, he is the stereotypical Democrat.
Tax. Spend. That policy sums up the President's policies. When that does not work propose even more of the same. Repeat. Throw in a few blame the Republicans/Bush/anyone/anything possible. Tax. Spend. Repeat.
Can we stand four more years of this?
UPDATE. Now we have heard from The Obama:. Tax the 'Rich" That is his plan.
The Downgrade-in-Chief keeps talking about people paying their "fair share" of taxes.
Will one of you Democrat/Liberal/Progressive types define for me "fair"?
Please?
Perfect Breaded Pork Tenderloin
Here we are, dear readers, facing a dreary Monday. I hope you had a good weekend. If yours was anything like mine, it was entirely too short. It seems like the weekend is only 2/5 as long as the work week.
Let's see, the yard is mowed, the weeds eradicated, the bushes are trimmed. The Cubs suck, but we will soon be done with their portion of the MLB season. The Colts suck, but their season is barely underway. I feel like I am living in 1993 again. As one pundit opined last week, is it possible Manning could be considered the MVP when not even talking a snap? For the most part, this is the same team that flirted with a perfect season in 2009/10, minus one important player. Ponder that.
It rained most of the night and the sky is filled with dark pregnant clouds this morning. We need the rain, but the whole atmosphere seems completely fall-like.
I used up what passes for good writing (the bar is set purposely low) last week, so just insert your own pithy closing here.
Let's see, the yard is mowed, the weeds eradicated, the bushes are trimmed. The Cubs suck, but we will soon be done with their portion of the MLB season. The Colts suck, but their season is barely underway. I feel like I am living in 1993 again. As one pundit opined last week, is it possible Manning could be considered the MVP when not even talking a snap? For the most part, this is the same team that flirted with a perfect season in 2009/10, minus one important player. Ponder that.
It rained most of the night and the sky is filled with dark pregnant clouds this morning. We need the rain, but the whole atmosphere seems completely fall-like.
I used up what passes for good writing (the bar is set purposely low) last week, so just insert your own pithy closing here.
September 18, 2011
The secret to perfect corn meal mush
Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!
My iPod is playing semi-quietly in the background as I peruse the interwebz this morning. So far I have been instructed by Blue Oyster Cult to not fear the reaper and Pink Floyd has played Echoes. The Floyd song is not as well know as some others, but weighs in at over 15 minutes. I highly recommend it, it is far superior to most of the crap from The wall album. Currently one of the finest songs ever written is on -- Marshall Tucker's Can't You See. here, take a listen as see if you do not agree:
We will find out today just how bad the Indianapolis Colts are. I do not think they are very good, but one week does not a season make. Unless the O-line can do a better job and the defense learns to stop the other team, it will be a long season. Manning is among the greatest quarterbacks to ever play, but it was the defense that gave up 34 points in one half last week.
Have a great Sunday.
My iPod is playing semi-quietly in the background as I peruse the interwebz this morning. So far I have been instructed by Blue Oyster Cult to not fear the reaper and Pink Floyd has played Echoes. The Floyd song is not as well know as some others, but weighs in at over 15 minutes. I highly recommend it, it is far superior to most of the crap from The wall album. Currently one of the finest songs ever written is on -- Marshall Tucker's Can't You See. here, take a listen as see if you do not agree:
We will find out today just how bad the Indianapolis Colts are. I do not think they are very good, but one week does not a season make. Unless the O-line can do a better job and the defense learns to stop the other team, it will be a long season. Manning is among the greatest quarterbacks to ever play, but it was the defense that gave up 34 points in one half last week.
Have a great Sunday.
September 17, 2011
Am I boring you?
I am up and at it early this morning. I woke a little before five in the a.m. for no real reason I can imagine. I have not been sleeping well this week, so I was not surprised.
Life is good here at the old homestead. I have to mow the yard later today. I think I will set the blades down a notch and maybe I will only have to get in one or two more cuttings before fall stops the growing season.
There you have it, a boring post filled with boring nothings. I hope you have a great weekend.
Life is good here at the old homestead. I have to mow the yard later today. I think I will set the blades down a notch and maybe I will only have to get in one or two more cuttings before fall stops the growing season.
There you have it, a boring post filled with boring nothings. I hope you have a great weekend.
September 16, 2011
Why the Tea Party and Conservatism will lose
It is over. We have lost the war to return to a limited Government.
Do not get me wrong, full-on socialism has not yet engulfed our beachhead, but the waves of collective nanny state big government are inching forward in an inexorable tide.
We will win more elections. Maybe even the next one. There are some young conservatives on the Supreme Court. There will be some reforms and some roll backs, The States will hold out for a while.
But there is no denying we are in the midst of the Conservative equivalent of the Battle of the Bulge. In 1944 Hitler gambled on one last great offensive to to beat back the British and Americans. He faced steady pressure from the Soviets in the East and he hoped to defeat the Western Allies in a big battle to allow him to find a peace in the West and concentrate on defeating the real enemy -- the USSR. Even Hitler knew socialism was the real danger! In reality, the War was lost, but the mighty Huns put up a big fight to stave off the inevitable.
That is where we are today in America in our fight against Socialism. Newsweek claimed after The Obama victory we were all Socialists now and sadly, they were right. The victory is in sight. It will just take another decade or so to tally the final victory.
Yesterday I read in my local paper a story that confirms my dire analysis. A regional foodbank is combining with the schools to provide meals for "hungry" children on the weekends. Kids that qualify for "free" lunch will get a pack containing food for six meals when they leave school on Friday afternoon. This means we, the taxpayers, are providing 16 of 21 meals a week. In return we are teaching a whole generation of young parents -- and more importantly -- the children, that the Government is there to provide your every need.
How do you teach a young girl or boy to work hard and to be self-reliant when the counter message screams loud and clear -- do nothing and others will provide? They go home and see a family life where welfare checks and food stamps are the norm. They live in homes where the Mom or Dad does not work. Many do not even try. These kids are the future. Today's elementary school children are tomorrow's voters. Most people do not like to give up the freebies. We have lost the war for the heart and minds of future generations.
Less you think this is just over-reaction to an isolated incident, consider in my wife's kindergarten classroom. All but four kids get breakfast served at school. Dumping some milk into a bowl of dry cereal is too much for their parents to handle of a morning. The schools, through the Feds (thus from your taxes and my taxes) even provides lunch in the summer! There is a health clinic in the middle school providing "free" healthcare to any student on free or reduced lunch. How can any student not think the role of Government is to provide their needs? When free food and medicine is provided, can housing be far behind?
More Americans than ever are on food stamps. We the taxpayer are paying for meals for these "hungry" youngsters already. We give enough to feed the family in foodstamps, with no deductions for the breakfast and lunch provided by the schools. Now we are covering the weekend eats. Will there be a corresponding reduction in food stamp payments? I think we all know the answer.
The tales of food stamp abuse are legion. I am sure there is not one of us who has not stood in line at the grocery to buy our hamburger and generic foodstuffs while the couple in front bought steak with food stamps. Anecdote is not data, but it happens enough to make it reality.
I begrudge no human a meal. The notion of starving and hungry kids makes me almost weep in frustration. In the local school system nearly 50% of the students are on free or reduced lunch. In a survey taken at registration, more than 80% indicated they have internet access at home. I would further bet most of those families have cable and cell phones. This county boasts some of the highest smoking rates in the state and nation. Yet, I am asked to pay for food for these same families. I am surely missing something? Do we now live in a society where cell phones and internet are deemed necessities?
We are done, finished. The Roman Emperors learned the way to stay in power was to give the populace free bread and circuses. The modern left hates religion and Christians ion particular. Can the spectacle of the Colosseum be far in the future?
Do not get me wrong, full-on socialism has not yet engulfed our beachhead, but the waves of collective nanny state big government are inching forward in an inexorable tide.
We will win more elections. Maybe even the next one. There are some young conservatives on the Supreme Court. There will be some reforms and some roll backs, The States will hold out for a while.
But there is no denying we are in the midst of the Conservative equivalent of the Battle of the Bulge. In 1944 Hitler gambled on one last great offensive to to beat back the British and Americans. He faced steady pressure from the Soviets in the East and he hoped to defeat the Western Allies in a big battle to allow him to find a peace in the West and concentrate on defeating the real enemy -- the USSR. Even Hitler knew socialism was the real danger! In reality, the War was lost, but the mighty Huns put up a big fight to stave off the inevitable.
That is where we are today in America in our fight against Socialism. Newsweek claimed after The Obama victory we were all Socialists now and sadly, they were right. The victory is in sight. It will just take another decade or so to tally the final victory.
Yesterday I read in my local paper a story that confirms my dire analysis. A regional foodbank is combining with the schools to provide meals for "hungry" children on the weekends. Kids that qualify for "free" lunch will get a pack containing food for six meals when they leave school on Friday afternoon. This means we, the taxpayers, are providing 16 of 21 meals a week. In return we are teaching a whole generation of young parents -- and more importantly -- the children, that the Government is there to provide your every need.
How do you teach a young girl or boy to work hard and to be self-reliant when the counter message screams loud and clear -- do nothing and others will provide? They go home and see a family life where welfare checks and food stamps are the norm. They live in homes where the Mom or Dad does not work. Many do not even try. These kids are the future. Today's elementary school children are tomorrow's voters. Most people do not like to give up the freebies. We have lost the war for the heart and minds of future generations.
Less you think this is just over-reaction to an isolated incident, consider in my wife's kindergarten classroom. All but four kids get breakfast served at school. Dumping some milk into a bowl of dry cereal is too much for their parents to handle of a morning. The schools, through the Feds (thus from your taxes and my taxes) even provides lunch in the summer! There is a health clinic in the middle school providing "free" healthcare to any student on free or reduced lunch. How can any student not think the role of Government is to provide their needs? When free food and medicine is provided, can housing be far behind?
More Americans than ever are on food stamps. We the taxpayer are paying for meals for these "hungry" youngsters already. We give enough to feed the family in foodstamps, with no deductions for the breakfast and lunch provided by the schools. Now we are covering the weekend eats. Will there be a corresponding reduction in food stamp payments? I think we all know the answer.
The tales of food stamp abuse are legion. I am sure there is not one of us who has not stood in line at the grocery to buy our hamburger and generic foodstuffs while the couple in front bought steak with food stamps. Anecdote is not data, but it happens enough to make it reality.
I begrudge no human a meal. The notion of starving and hungry kids makes me almost weep in frustration. In the local school system nearly 50% of the students are on free or reduced lunch. In a survey taken at registration, more than 80% indicated they have internet access at home. I would further bet most of those families have cable and cell phones. This county boasts some of the highest smoking rates in the state and nation. Yet, I am asked to pay for food for these same families. I am surely missing something? Do we now live in a society where cell phones and internet are deemed necessities?
We are done, finished. The Roman Emperors learned the way to stay in power was to give the populace free bread and circuses. The modern left hates religion and Christians ion particular. Can the spectacle of the Colosseum be far in the future?
September 14, 2011
We are now starting into Birthday season around here. Today marks my Daughter's twenty-fifth lap around the sun. Here is she is in younger days:
This is from one of her many dance recitals. She did not routinely strut around in sparkly clothes and makeup at a young age. Boy, that seems like only yesterday. She has changed somewhat since this picture was taken. But she is still my little girl.
This is from one of her many dance recitals. She did not routinely strut around in sparkly clothes and makeup at a young age. Boy, that seems like only yesterday. She has changed somewhat since this picture was taken. But she is still my little girl.
September 13, 2011
Reading for fun and profit
I know for certain most of you sit around thinking about me. I get it. Your first action after turning on your modern computing device and connecting to the interwebz is to click the link connecting you to this source of wisdom, humor, and guide to living the perfect life.*
As such, I am sure most of you wonder what I have been reading, but are too shy to ask. I am more than aware my awesomeness invokes a sense of unworthiness and timidity in my gentle readers. You might see yourself akin to the humble supplicants Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man and Lion before Oz. But I am no man behind the curtain, you do not need to bow before the Great and Powerful Wizard that is theHoosierboy Average Joe. Ask away, good readers! We are friends here. I will require of you no deeds of heroism. I do not hide behind flash and flame.
It has been a while since I last reported my daily reading habits. I have completed 54 books since I received my Kindle last Christmas. Here is the list of books and authors since I last reported in June:
The Graduate by Charles Webb
Midnight Cowboy James Lee Herlihy
Fighting the Flying Circus Eddie Rickenbacker
Hilda the Wicked Witch Paul Kater
Hilda - Snow White Revisited Paul Kater
Eyewall HW "Buzz" Bernard
Cadillac's Comin' Mike Dennis
Social Blunders Tim Sandlin
Carte Blanche Jeffery Deaver
Don't Mean Nuthin' Ron Lealos
The Love You Crave John Locke
No Merci Ron Lealos
Einstein' Refrigerator Steve Silverman
The Virginian Owen Wister
I am currently in the midst of the Legends of King Aurthur by Sir James Knowles. It is tough sledding, but once i get used to the rhythm of the language I enjoy it more. It is one of those books easy to put down and hard to pick up, if you know what I mean. I have more than 90 other tomes waiting in queue to be read, so I do not have to suffer through books I do not want to read.
What are you reading?
* Or maybe not
As such, I am sure most of you wonder what I have been reading, but are too shy to ask. I am more than aware my awesomeness invokes a sense of unworthiness and timidity in my gentle readers. You might see yourself akin to the humble supplicants Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man and Lion before Oz. But I am no man behind the curtain, you do not need to bow before the Great and Powerful Wizard that is the
It has been a while since I last reported my daily reading habits. I have completed 54 books since I received my Kindle last Christmas. Here is the list of books and authors since I last reported in June:
The Graduate by Charles Webb
Midnight Cowboy James Lee Herlihy
Fighting the Flying Circus Eddie Rickenbacker
Hilda the Wicked Witch Paul Kater
Hilda - Snow White Revisited Paul Kater
Eyewall HW "Buzz" Bernard
Cadillac's Comin' Mike Dennis
Social Blunders Tim Sandlin
Carte Blanche Jeffery Deaver
Don't Mean Nuthin' Ron Lealos
The Love You Crave John Locke
No Merci Ron Lealos
Einstein' Refrigerator Steve Silverman
The Virginian Owen Wister
I am currently in the midst of the Legends of King Aurthur by Sir James Knowles. It is tough sledding, but once i get used to the rhythm of the language I enjoy it more. It is one of those books easy to put down and hard to pick up, if you know what I mean. I have more than 90 other tomes waiting in queue to be read, so I do not have to suffer through books I do not want to read.
What are you reading?
* Or maybe not
Random Ramblings
I took a customer to dinner last evening and on the way home I saw a farmer harvesting corn. I thought it pretty early in the season, but I am no farmer. I never even played one on TV. Most of the corn and soy beans in the area are still sporting a bit of green.
I went for a walk after I got home. Too bad I lack the vocabulary and skill to describe the beauty of the moon as I walked eastward down School Street. It rose full and giant and tinted with an orange hue so beautiful it made me smile. I did not think to snap a picture with my trusty iPhone! This morning Chuck the weather guy said this is the harvest moon, so I suppose the farmer in question knows his business.
A friend of mine bought a series of university lectures on various subjects. He loaned me the disks and I have been listening to them while I walk the neighborhood. I have completed courses on the Civil War and WWII. I am in the middle of a long course on American History. The past few lectures have been on the 1890s and the birth of the Progressive Era. One of my favorite courses in College was on America in the 1890s, and I am enjoying the lectures immensely. Each lecture covers about 30 minutes, so I usually get in a couple every day. The wife says she would fall asleep walking if she had to listen to history lectures. I just chalk such comments up as example 1,037 of things we do not have in common.
I scheduled a couple of college visits for the youngest this morning. I cannot believe he is a senior in high school. Long time readers remember him as a youth playing little league and pee wee football. Where have the years gone?
I went for a walk after I got home. Too bad I lack the vocabulary and skill to describe the beauty of the moon as I walked eastward down School Street. It rose full and giant and tinted with an orange hue so beautiful it made me smile. I did not think to snap a picture with my trusty iPhone! This morning Chuck the weather guy said this is the harvest moon, so I suppose the farmer in question knows his business.
A friend of mine bought a series of university lectures on various subjects. He loaned me the disks and I have been listening to them while I walk the neighborhood. I have completed courses on the Civil War and WWII. I am in the middle of a long course on American History. The past few lectures have been on the 1890s and the birth of the Progressive Era. One of my favorite courses in College was on America in the 1890s, and I am enjoying the lectures immensely. Each lecture covers about 30 minutes, so I usually get in a couple every day. The wife says she would fall asleep walking if she had to listen to history lectures. I just chalk such comments up as example 1,037 of things we do not have in common.
I scheduled a couple of college visits for the youngest this morning. I cannot believe he is a senior in high school. Long time readers remember him as a youth playing little league and pee wee football. Where have the years gone?
September 12, 2011
Remembering September 12
I have not done a 9/11 post for several years. The reasons ar varied and I am not always sure I understand them myself. I was bothered yesterday. Krugman in his sickening NY Times article ( no, it will not be ,inked here) was right, the the anniversary was subdued.
I am not sure what I want. In typical male fashion, I am more than certain I cannot accurately, or remotely articulate my feelings. I do not want to listen to a recital of the victim's names. I want the names of the evil Islamic Terrorists recited. I want the names of those murderers reviled with the likes of McVey, Hitler, Stalin, Mao and Pol Pot. 9/11 should live as a Day of Infamy equal to December 7. I want America to remember, to know who did this. I do not want to see a peaceful waterfall and reflecting pool as the reminder of that awful day, I want the images of the towers burning, the helpless Americans jumping from the burning building in a hopeless attempt to escape the flames. I want American to remember the cheering, the joy in Palestine over the senseless slaughter of innocents condemned for having temerity to believe in a different God, to live in a different culture.
Every time a court in Dearborn, Michigan tries to enforce Sharia Law, I want the people of this country to remember the fate of the men and women of 9/11 and rise up crying "Hell, no!". We have equal justice under the laws of the Constitution for every one.
When the multiculturalists try to tell us all cultures are equal, I want John and Jane Citizen to know that idea is nuts. A culture that advocates women as second class citizens, advocates female circumcision, takes joy in killing others because they believe different from the tenets laid down by a pedophile sheepherder deserves no legitimacy as long as the basic foundations of human freedom are excluded. I can not consider the killing fields of Pol Pot or the Gulags of Stalin an equal cultural decision, and I refuse to give credence to terrorists and butchers of mankind in the name of religion.
I refuse to listen to the apologists as they decry Western Civilisation for past crimes. Yes, evil was done in the name of the Christian God. Yes, we were slavers, the treatment of the Jews over the ages is deplorable. But it was this same Western Culture that overcame their Dark Ages culture, that brought us the Enlightenment, threw off the yoke of slavery, granted equal rights to women and people of color. Is it perfect? Of course not, but in modern democratic societies we no longer wield the torture of the Inquisition, suffer honor killings of our wives and daughters and sell of our female relatives like cattle. We do not behead the infidel, we do not terrorize mankind for thinking different thoughts. To make excuses is mere rationalization. No standard of living, no religious belief, no history of oppression can ever justify the actions of September 11, 2001.
I don't want to spend my 9/11 thinking of the slaughtered as victims of a terrible, unnamed accident. The men and women who breathed their last that September morning were each and every one murdered. I am still angry and I am not ready to let it go. I am not interested in monuments to peace or a couple of rusty pieces of metal stuck in the ground in Indianapolis, Memphis or Omaha. When I was in New York last winter, the hole in the skyline brought up not sadness, but anger.
The death of a Hoosier soldier in Afghanistan this weekend should hammer the point. The dying from 9/11 is not yet over. There may be some who deplore the War on Terror. They may say we are not at war on anything. Well, I have news for you -- Terror is still at war with us, and the perpetrators are all members of one single religious faith. Not all Muslims are terrorists, that I know and believe. But every terrorist in today's world is a damned Muslim. That is fact.
Yes, I feel today the same white hot anger I felt on September 12, 2001. That is what I choose to remember.
I am not sure what I want. In typical male fashion, I am more than certain I cannot accurately, or remotely articulate my feelings. I do not want to listen to a recital of the victim's names. I want the names of the evil Islamic Terrorists recited. I want the names of those murderers reviled with the likes of McVey, Hitler, Stalin, Mao and Pol Pot. 9/11 should live as a Day of Infamy equal to December 7. I want America to remember, to know who did this. I do not want to see a peaceful waterfall and reflecting pool as the reminder of that awful day, I want the images of the towers burning, the helpless Americans jumping from the burning building in a hopeless attempt to escape the flames. I want American to remember the cheering, the joy in Palestine over the senseless slaughter of innocents condemned for having temerity to believe in a different God, to live in a different culture.
Every time a court in Dearborn, Michigan tries to enforce Sharia Law, I want the people of this country to remember the fate of the men and women of 9/11 and rise up crying "Hell, no!". We have equal justice under the laws of the Constitution for every one.
When the multiculturalists try to tell us all cultures are equal, I want John and Jane Citizen to know that idea is nuts. A culture that advocates women as second class citizens, advocates female circumcision, takes joy in killing others because they believe different from the tenets laid down by a pedophile sheepherder deserves no legitimacy as long as the basic foundations of human freedom are excluded. I can not consider the killing fields of Pol Pot or the Gulags of Stalin an equal cultural decision, and I refuse to give credence to terrorists and butchers of mankind in the name of religion.
I refuse to listen to the apologists as they decry Western Civilisation for past crimes. Yes, evil was done in the name of the Christian God. Yes, we were slavers, the treatment of the Jews over the ages is deplorable. But it was this same Western Culture that overcame their Dark Ages culture, that brought us the Enlightenment, threw off the yoke of slavery, granted equal rights to women and people of color. Is it perfect? Of course not, but in modern democratic societies we no longer wield the torture of the Inquisition, suffer honor killings of our wives and daughters and sell of our female relatives like cattle. We do not behead the infidel, we do not terrorize mankind for thinking different thoughts. To make excuses is mere rationalization. No standard of living, no religious belief, no history of oppression can ever justify the actions of September 11, 2001.
I don't want to spend my 9/11 thinking of the slaughtered as victims of a terrible, unnamed accident. The men and women who breathed their last that September morning were each and every one murdered. I am still angry and I am not ready to let it go. I am not interested in monuments to peace or a couple of rusty pieces of metal stuck in the ground in Indianapolis, Memphis or Omaha. When I was in New York last winter, the hole in the skyline brought up not sadness, but anger.
The death of a Hoosier soldier in Afghanistan this weekend should hammer the point. The dying from 9/11 is not yet over. There may be some who deplore the War on Terror. They may say we are not at war on anything. Well, I have news for you -- Terror is still at war with us, and the perpetrators are all members of one single religious faith. Not all Muslims are terrorists, that I know and believe. But every terrorist in today's world is a damned Muslim. That is fact.
Yes, I feel today the same white hot anger I felt on September 12, 2001. That is what I choose to remember.
September 11, 2011
September 11
If you need a to be reminded of the significance of this day, then you will find nothing here. Not today or any day.
Reflect as you see fit.
Reflect as you see fit.
September 10, 2011
Bumps and depressions and ridges, oh my.
Once upon a time, for about three months, blogging was way cool. In those halcyon days before Facebook and Twitter, we would be drawn like moths to a light to witness firsthand the tragedy of life bared full on the pages of the Internet in the blogs of The Acidman and Bane. Big Dick entertained us with his Fatty Friday and the DuToits educated us. The cool kids told us tales of blog meets and we lived vicariously through the posted stories and tales of blogging buddies throughout the world.
Some of us lesser men and women looked around and told ourselves we could do that too, most with limited success. As many blogs dried and died as were launched, it seemed. Because we listened to Rob Smith when he told each of us to post every day. no matter what, we were often abandoned by the Muses, left staring at the evil cursor as it blinked its mocking beacon of failure on the computer screen.
Most bloggers resorted to the standby post. When all else failed, there was always a meme floating around. The me me was a survey, a list of questions that helped us learn our personality. Which character were we in a Charlotte Bronte novel -- the meme would tell us. Which sporting event best matched our personality -- the meme knows. Are you conservative, liberal, a shrub or tree, what breed of dog suits your personality, what fish would you like to be? Are you a handgun or a rifle, a shoe or boot, a yeast or jelly donut? The meme told us what we were dying to know.
Alas, the me me fad died one winter night in 2007. At least I hope so. But now I am lost. I need constant reassuring. Who am I? What do I believe? What are my strengths and weaknesses? I could spend a lot of money and time going to a trained professional analyst. I could spend Friday afternoons with my shrink. But that could take years and untold treasure to determine. I need an interwebz shortcut.
I have hit upon another plan. While washing my hair it occurred to me I have a bunch of ridges and bumps on my skull. In olden days each of these bumps and depressions told the astute practitioner of phrenology all he needed to know about my personality. While modern science has debunked the usefulness of cranium measurement and study, I am mollified by the knowledge that some scientists think AlGore knows something about weather. Supposed smart people gave The Obama a Nobel Prize.
So I call upon you, remnants of the Blog World. Go to your library, find hidden in the musty stacks the tomes regarding phrenology and the study of the human brain. Educate yourselves, post a map of your cranium for all to see. Expose for the world the scope of your benevolent organ, your combativeness, your ideality.
Skateboards and hula hoops made a comeback. Miniskirts and beards have come and gone from the fashion scene. It is time to revitalize the pseudosciences. I vote for phrenology.
Are you with me? Plus, I am a little concerned this ridge along the top of my skull means I was born to a life of chronic masturbation, or useless blogging. I have to know.
Some of us lesser men and women looked around and told ourselves we could do that too, most with limited success. As many blogs dried and died as were launched, it seemed. Because we listened to Rob Smith when he told each of us to post every day. no matter what, we were often abandoned by the Muses, left staring at the evil cursor as it blinked its mocking beacon of failure on the computer screen.
Most bloggers resorted to the standby post. When all else failed, there was always a meme floating around. The me me was a survey, a list of questions that helped us learn our personality. Which character were we in a Charlotte Bronte novel -- the meme would tell us. Which sporting event best matched our personality -- the meme knows. Are you conservative, liberal, a shrub or tree, what breed of dog suits your personality, what fish would you like to be? Are you a handgun or a rifle, a shoe or boot, a yeast or jelly donut? The meme told us what we were dying to know.
Alas, the me me fad died one winter night in 2007. At least I hope so. But now I am lost. I need constant reassuring. Who am I? What do I believe? What are my strengths and weaknesses? I could spend a lot of money and time going to a trained professional analyst. I could spend Friday afternoons with my shrink. But that could take years and untold treasure to determine. I need an interwebz shortcut.
I have hit upon another plan. While washing my hair it occurred to me I have a bunch of ridges and bumps on my skull. In olden days each of these bumps and depressions told the astute practitioner of phrenology all he needed to know about my personality. While modern science has debunked the usefulness of cranium measurement and study, I am mollified by the knowledge that some scientists think AlGore knows something about weather. Supposed smart people gave The Obama a Nobel Prize.
So I call upon you, remnants of the Blog World. Go to your library, find hidden in the musty stacks the tomes regarding phrenology and the study of the human brain. Educate yourselves, post a map of your cranium for all to see. Expose for the world the scope of your benevolent organ, your combativeness, your ideality.
Skateboards and hula hoops made a comeback. Miniskirts and beards have come and gone from the fashion scene. It is time to revitalize the pseudosciences. I vote for phrenology.
Are you with me? Plus, I am a little concerned this ridge along the top of my skull means I was born to a life of chronic masturbation, or useless blogging. I have to know.
September 9, 2011
I'll be damned
Even the AP thinks the "it don't cost nuthin'" jobs plan does not pass the smell test.
It is all about the gravy
Friday is upon us. It looks like I have beat the wolves from the door yet again.
I fried up some chicken last night. I served the old yard birds with some mashed spuds, biscuits and green beans. I made my usual batch of fine gravy. I am a decent cook, but my gravy is top notch. White and silky and rich and so good on the potatoes and torn up biscuits. Why yes, Dr. Peters, in the unlikely event you have stumbled upon this post, I far exceeded my carb intake for the meal (potatoes, biscuits gravy are all carbs, and carbs are sugars, and sugars are highly regulated for us diabetics). But damn, the meal was good.
I half-watched The Obama last night while cleaning up the supper mess. There was a little less blaming going on than I expected. I am not sure, but I think the Defaulter-in-Chief wants Congress to pass his legislation. Since he did not give specifics, I guess we will have to wait and see the details at some point in the future. For the record, ideas are not a plan, speeches are not legislation. You see, Mr. President, in real life, plans include details. In Community Organizer World it may work to say "Hey lets go down to city hall and protest". In business and life one needs a plan with details.
Could someone tell me what construction jobs we missed with the $800 billion stimulus passed a couple of years ago? And why The Obama thinks massive Government spending will work this time? Also, the top 53% of wage earners pay 100% of the Federal Income Tax. Just what is their fair share? Should these mysterious "rich" give up everything? Does The Obama understand the very "wealthiest Americans" he wants to soak ARE the small business owners? You know, the guys he claims are the ones who will create jobs.
Sorry, but a $4,000 tax credit will not encourage any business to hire anyone. The cost of adding a bloke to the payroll likely eats up that tax break. If there is no work, then how do you expect the employer to pay the new employee -- from the owner's checkbook? Oh wait, that extra cash just got confiscated by the IRS in Obama's new higher taxes! In addition, the employer will be forced to offer healthcare benefits under ObamaCare, so you have to add in that added cost of hiring a new employee. $4,000 sure does not go far, does it? Chock this nutty idea as further evidence of The Presidents total lack of understanding regarding business and economics. Life as a student and Community Organizer does not prepare one to run a Taco Bell, forget running a Nation. The intern at our corporate office will have more real life business experience than The Obama at the end of this semester. Chew on that. Maybe a little homemade gravy will help?
BTW, if all of these "savings" are out there to help pay for theis version of Porkulus II, why didn't The Obama trot them out in the budget negotiations a few months ago and put those pesky, rascist, hate-filled, terrorist Tea Party folks in their place?
There was a good football game on last night. I did not really care who won, other than I have a historic loathing of the Packers dating from my youth. I have a hard time rooting for the Saints after they beat the Colts in Superbowl XLIV. Plus, every time the Saints play we are subject to more Katrina stories. Blah, Blah poor New Orleans. I am sick of it.
Disasters strike all of the time. Mother Nature is a vengeful bitch. It sucks. Ask the people of Florida about Hurricanes. Ask coastal North Carlina about double hurricanes just weeks apart in the mid 1990's. Talk to the flood victims of the Dakotas and Iowa. Ponder the ice storm in Kentucky and Illinois a few years ago, the floods in Vermont last week. How about Joplin and the massive tornado that destroyed so many lives earlier this year? People's lives are screwed by weather. Everywhere but New Orleans cleans up, pulls up their big boy pants and moves forward. New Orleans just stands there and cries a plaintive "help me", like some mutant fly in a evil spider web.
Now look, you have gone and made me rant on a cloudy Friday. I hope you are all happy. Go eat some cake. Me, I have a conference call to attend.
I fried up some chicken last night. I served the old yard birds with some mashed spuds, biscuits and green beans. I made my usual batch of fine gravy. I am a decent cook, but my gravy is top notch. White and silky and rich and so good on the potatoes and torn up biscuits. Why yes, Dr. Peters, in the unlikely event you have stumbled upon this post, I far exceeded my carb intake for the meal (potatoes, biscuits gravy are all carbs, and carbs are sugars, and sugars are highly regulated for us diabetics). But damn, the meal was good.
I half-watched The Obama last night while cleaning up the supper mess. There was a little less blaming going on than I expected. I am not sure, but I think the Defaulter-in-Chief wants Congress to pass his legislation. Since he did not give specifics, I guess we will have to wait and see the details at some point in the future. For the record, ideas are not a plan, speeches are not legislation. You see, Mr. President, in real life, plans include details. In Community Organizer World it may work to say "Hey lets go down to city hall and protest". In business and life one needs a plan with details.
Could someone tell me what construction jobs we missed with the $800 billion stimulus passed a couple of years ago? And why The Obama thinks massive Government spending will work this time? Also, the top 53% of wage earners pay 100% of the Federal Income Tax. Just what is their fair share? Should these mysterious "rich" give up everything? Does The Obama understand the very "wealthiest Americans" he wants to soak ARE the small business owners? You know, the guys he claims are the ones who will create jobs.
Sorry, but a $4,000 tax credit will not encourage any business to hire anyone. The cost of adding a bloke to the payroll likely eats up that tax break. If there is no work, then how do you expect the employer to pay the new employee -- from the owner's checkbook? Oh wait, that extra cash just got confiscated by the IRS in Obama's new higher taxes! In addition, the employer will be forced to offer healthcare benefits under ObamaCare, so you have to add in that added cost of hiring a new employee. $4,000 sure does not go far, does it? Chock this nutty idea as further evidence of The Presidents total lack of understanding regarding business and economics. Life as a student and Community Organizer does not prepare one to run a Taco Bell, forget running a Nation. The intern at our corporate office will have more real life business experience than The Obama at the end of this semester. Chew on that. Maybe a little homemade gravy will help?
BTW, if all of these "savings" are out there to help pay for theis version of Porkulus II, why didn't The Obama trot them out in the budget negotiations a few months ago and put those pesky, rascist, hate-filled, terrorist Tea Party folks in their place?
There was a good football game on last night. I did not really care who won, other than I have a historic loathing of the Packers dating from my youth. I have a hard time rooting for the Saints after they beat the Colts in Superbowl XLIV. Plus, every time the Saints play we are subject to more Katrina stories. Blah, Blah poor New Orleans. I am sick of it.
Disasters strike all of the time. Mother Nature is a vengeful bitch. It sucks. Ask the people of Florida about Hurricanes. Ask coastal North Carlina about double hurricanes just weeks apart in the mid 1990's. Talk to the flood victims of the Dakotas and Iowa. Ponder the ice storm in Kentucky and Illinois a few years ago, the floods in Vermont last week. How about Joplin and the massive tornado that destroyed so many lives earlier this year? People's lives are screwed by weather. Everywhere but New Orleans cleans up, pulls up their big boy pants and moves forward. New Orleans just stands there and cries a plaintive "help me", like some mutant fly in a evil spider web.
Now look, you have gone and made me rant on a cloudy Friday. I hope you are all happy. Go eat some cake. Me, I have a conference call to attend.
September 8, 2011
Who fact checks the "fact checkers"?
The AP has taken great pains to "fact check" the Republicans in last night's debate.
Can we assume we will see a similar "fact check" of The Obama's claims in tonight's big speech?
Yes, I was laughing when I wrote this post, why do you ask?
Can we assume we will see a similar "fact check" of The Obama's claims in tonight's big speech?
Yes, I was laughing when I wrote this post, why do you ask?
In one of those moods
I have a major case of the blahs this morning. Perhaps it is the weather, the steel gray skies and chilly temps are a steady reminder that fall and winter are not just around the corner, but are trying like hell to parallel park out front. Thank goodness they are too far from the curb. Crap, now they just hit summer's front bumper. Maybe fall and winter might have to drive around the block and look for a different spot. I hope...
I am off to have some work done on the car today: routine maintenance stuff. I can think of many better things to do with my time, but it has to be done.
The boy spilled a glass of milk this morning. Why doesn't anyone in this family ever just spill water? Milk is the worst, it is sticky and smelly and nasty to clean. And I just washed towels yesterday (while I was supposed to be participating in an online sales meeting -- Yes it was that boring). I remember one time I dropped a jar of peanut butter and it shattered. How do you clean up a mess of smooth Jif filled with shards of glass? You cannot sweep it. You cannot mop it. You cannot wipe it up. You cannot pick up the glass and then wipe/mop/sweep. I guess spilled milk is better. One thing is certain -- I am not going to cry over it.
I don't want you to cry over it either -- not even you, Argentina.
I am off to have some work done on the car today: routine maintenance stuff. I can think of many better things to do with my time, but it has to be done.
The boy spilled a glass of milk this morning. Why doesn't anyone in this family ever just spill water? Milk is the worst, it is sticky and smelly and nasty to clean. And I just washed towels yesterday (while I was supposed to be participating in an online sales meeting -- Yes it was that boring). I remember one time I dropped a jar of peanut butter and it shattered. How do you clean up a mess of smooth Jif filled with shards of glass? You cannot sweep it. You cannot mop it. You cannot wipe it up. You cannot pick up the glass and then wipe/mop/sweep. I guess spilled milk is better. One thing is certain -- I am not going to cry over it.
I don't want you to cry over it either -- not even you, Argentina.
September 7, 2011
Secret White House Papers
Hoosierland Intelligence Agency operatives have managed to steal The Obama's crib notes for his big jobs speech tomorrow. These are his notes in case the Teleprompter and the teleprompter backup goes down.
Here are the bullet points:
Here are the bullet points:
Good evening FellowThere you have it.TravellersAmericans
Bush's fault.
Things worse than we knew.
GOP fault.
Grand Compromise.
Greedy rich Americans fault (corporate jets / millionaires and billionaires not paying fair share)
Bankers fault
Tax credits for those who do not pay taxes.
Rich people do not pay their fair share.
GOP fault
Stimulus (Construction job bank/schools/infrastructure).
Green jobs.
Green Energy (mention GOP wants dirty air, water, unsafe food)
ObamaCare will save the day
Spend / tax/ spend
Tsunami/Arab Spring/Earthquake/Hurricane/fault.
Blame the GOP. .
Spread the wealth
Bush's Fault
Tea Party hate at fault
Goodnight.
September 6, 2011
I am confused
I continue to be amazed at the escalating war on the "Tea Party". How in the world is it racist to ask the Government to live within its means? How is it racist to want to keep my own hard-earned money? Why is it wrong to advocate for lower taxes, smaller Government and less regulation?
In what world does anyone claim that I "owe" my fellow man part of my wages? If I do not want to supportsecond third fourth generation of families on welfare, does that make me racist? How is believing in a smaller, less intrusive Government wrong?
I seriously invite any liberal, any Democrat, to show me the error of my ways. I am serious. I promise polite, debate.
I read comments to a despicable editorial in the Indy Star over the weekend (I refuse to link that hate-filled garbage) claiming that defending oneself against charges of racism was proof of racism! Was Clinton wanting a return to Jim Crow when he signed the Welfare Reform Acts? After all, he was our first "black President". If members of Congress formed a caucus exclusively for whites would that be racist? When members of Congress formed a caucus exclusively for blacks, it is not? Is Allen West a racist?
Show me the error of my ways.
Thanks PRS for turning me on to Sunny.
In what world does anyone claim that I "owe" my fellow man part of my wages? If I do not want to support
I seriously invite any liberal, any Democrat, to show me the error of my ways. I am serious. I promise polite, debate.
I read comments to a despicable editorial in the Indy Star over the weekend (I refuse to link that hate-filled garbage) claiming that defending oneself against charges of racism was proof of racism! Was Clinton wanting a return to Jim Crow when he signed the Welfare Reform Acts? After all, he was our first "black President". If members of Congress formed a caucus exclusively for whites would that be racist? When members of Congress formed a caucus exclusively for blacks, it is not? Is Allen West a racist?
Show me the error of my ways.
Thanks PRS for turning me on to Sunny.
Wadda ya want fer nothin'?
Wow, here we are, Tuesday already. I have a bunch of phone time scheduled this week. A call-in meeting later this morning, an on-line sales meeting for Wednesday, and a customer conference call is slated for Friday. My monthly report for August is done, my expenses for the past several months -- well I hope to get caught up this week.
The MLB baseball season is winding down. It has been another disappointing, but not surprising, season for my Cubbies. The College football season is underway and the NFL gets started this week.
Politics will heat back up as Congress returns from vacation and The Obama continues his re-election campaign. The Republican field is still to be defined.
The new TV season will be underway in a few weeks.
My point? Well, I really have nothing to offer on this Tuesday, but it looks like there is to be plenty of blog fodder in the coming weeks. Hang in there, faithful readers. I will do my best to keep you entertained. At the very least I guarantee you will get your money's worth. Hey, like Elwood says, "Wadda ya want fer nothin'?:
The MLB baseball season is winding down. It has been another disappointing, but not surprising, season for my Cubbies. The College football season is underway and the NFL gets started this week.
Politics will heat back up as Congress returns from vacation and The Obama continues his re-election campaign. The Republican field is still to be defined.
The new TV season will be underway in a few weeks.
My point? Well, I really have nothing to offer on this Tuesday, but it looks like there is to be plenty of blog fodder in the coming weeks. Hang in there, faithful readers. I will do my best to keep you entertained. At the very least I guarantee you will get your money's worth. Hey, like Elwood says, "Wadda ya want fer nothin'?:
September 5, 2011
September 4, 2011
What is that weird kid doing now?
I suspect my parents often just shook their heads in wonder. The neighbors looked out the big picture windows and muttered about the weird kid over at the Hoosierboy home. Looking back through the mist of time I am pretty sure I was a weird kid. Frequent commenter Otter, who happens to be my brother, will likely attest to this fact.
The picnic table at the end of the patio often became my poop deck. I stood on the table and sailed the seas, a pirate, an admiral, Captain Blood. Standing on the table, I directed heavy cannon fire across the yard at enemy ships plunging in the waves. I shook my tiny fist at the neighbor's house and brandished my sword in imaginary scuffles on slick, bloody decks. The sword was not a couple of pieces of garden stakes my Dad nailed together for me and half- sharpened to a rounded point, but a heavy cutlass, a fencing foil, my personal instrument of skill and death.
I tipped the benches in and climbed under the table to make a pillbox to mow down the evil Japs. It was my log cabin as I lived the life of Jim Bridger and the Mountain Men. The privacy fence was my stockade as I battled Indians and the British with my toy flintlock.
My red stingray bike was a horse, croquet mallets were battle axes. Jarts were elaborate hand grenades and softball bats served as war clubs. I walked around the block carrying my toy guns.
I jumped off the roof of our modest ranch-style house as a Green Beret, Superman, or just for the hell of it. When I went to drop school, it was no feat to learn to collapse and roll upon landing, I learned how when I was nine through trial and error. I can still hear old Mr. Berry, who lived behind us: "What are you doing jumping off the roof, Joe? Don't you know you could break your leg? Knock it off or I will tell your Mom". Ha, Mom already told me to stop! That is why I was now jumping off the top step of the eight foot step ladder instead.
I remember the awesome summer of 1972, the neighborhood held our own Olympics. Neighbor girls cut and colored paper medals of gold, silver and bronze, while the multitudes that lived in the area competed in running, wrestling and gymnastic competitions on the old swing set out back. The fun ended when a bunch of crazed Arabs assaulted the real Olympic Games in Munich, killing 11 Israeli athletes and coaches. Serious, sad, and confusing stuff for a ten year old.
I am sure, if you were to track down the many neighbors that surrounded our house in that subdivision, their lasting image of me was as a small skinny kid with wavy dark hair and perpetual snotty nose. I was the strange kid who sat on the front stoop and read, who sat at the picnic table and read. I was the kid who put up the hammock and read. I was the weird kid standing on the wooden table gesturing and shouting at foes and adventures only I could see. The kid who hid behind trees and in the grass, pretending to be Geronimo, whom I had read could hide in plain sight by just lying still.
Oh, and I was also the kid who was smoking cigars out in the shed at eight years old and sneaking an occasional beer from the garage 'fridge. That was me who was streaking -- in 1970's fashion -- around the block on warm summer nights when my parents thought I was peacefully sleeping in the tent beside the house.
It is always the quiet ones you have to watch.
The picnic table at the end of the patio often became my poop deck. I stood on the table and sailed the seas, a pirate, an admiral, Captain Blood. Standing on the table, I directed heavy cannon fire across the yard at enemy ships plunging in the waves. I shook my tiny fist at the neighbor's house and brandished my sword in imaginary scuffles on slick, bloody decks. The sword was not a couple of pieces of garden stakes my Dad nailed together for me and half- sharpened to a rounded point, but a heavy cutlass, a fencing foil, my personal instrument of skill and death.
I tipped the benches in and climbed under the table to make a pillbox to mow down the evil Japs. It was my log cabin as I lived the life of Jim Bridger and the Mountain Men. The privacy fence was my stockade as I battled Indians and the British with my toy flintlock.
My red stingray bike was a horse, croquet mallets were battle axes. Jarts were elaborate hand grenades and softball bats served as war clubs. I walked around the block carrying my toy guns.
I jumped off the roof of our modest ranch-style house as a Green Beret, Superman, or just for the hell of it. When I went to drop school, it was no feat to learn to collapse and roll upon landing, I learned how when I was nine through trial and error. I can still hear old Mr. Berry, who lived behind us: "What are you doing jumping off the roof, Joe? Don't you know you could break your leg? Knock it off or I will tell your Mom". Ha, Mom already told me to stop! That is why I was now jumping off the top step of the eight foot step ladder instead.
I remember the awesome summer of 1972, the neighborhood held our own Olympics. Neighbor girls cut and colored paper medals of gold, silver and bronze, while the multitudes that lived in the area competed in running, wrestling and gymnastic competitions on the old swing set out back. The fun ended when a bunch of crazed Arabs assaulted the real Olympic Games in Munich, killing 11 Israeli athletes and coaches. Serious, sad, and confusing stuff for a ten year old.
I am sure, if you were to track down the many neighbors that surrounded our house in that subdivision, their lasting image of me was as a small skinny kid with wavy dark hair and perpetual snotty nose. I was the strange kid who sat on the front stoop and read, who sat at the picnic table and read. I was the kid who put up the hammock and read. I was the weird kid standing on the wooden table gesturing and shouting at foes and adventures only I could see. The kid who hid behind trees and in the grass, pretending to be Geronimo, whom I had read could hide in plain sight by just lying still.
Oh, and I was also the kid who was smoking cigars out in the shed at eight years old and sneaking an occasional beer from the garage 'fridge. That was me who was streaking -- in 1970's fashion -- around the block on warm summer nights when my parents thought I was peacefully sleeping in the tent beside the house.
It is always the quiet ones you have to watch.
September 3, 2011
Stuff you may not know -- so what? edition
John Hanson was the first President of the US. Look it up. Here, I will do the leg work for you. The pop music star brothers of the same last name of the 1990's may or may not be related. MMMBop, Bop.
The last time the Island of Britain was successfully invaded was in 1066 at the Battle of Hastings. After the war, Bill the Bully changed his name to William the Conqueror.
It is estimated that more than 1/10th of the entire population of the Soviet Union perished in WWII. We are talking military and civilian casualties.amounting to more than 23 million. If we add up the estimated military and civilian deaths in Germany, Italy, Austria, Poland, France Japan, Australia, the UK, and the USA, the total does not even reach 20 million. Ponder that for a moment. Now consider this, one rarely thinks about China in the Second World War. The fighting between Japan and China was especially brutal. It is estimated China lost 10 million in the war. see this
The name "Wendy" was made up by J.M. Barrie for the book Peter Pan.
Lord Admiral Horatio Nelson was incurably seasick.
At one point this morning I had totaled 180,081 visitors to this piece o' crap blog. I like number patterns.
My Great Grandmother was named Josephine. My only aunt was named Patricia Jo. My name is Joe. My daughter's middle name is Jo. Cue the soundtrack from Fiddler on the Roof -- Tradition!
Instead of this worthless crap, read a good blog post on this Labor Day weekend:
The last time the Island of Britain was successfully invaded was in 1066 at the Battle of Hastings. After the war, Bill the Bully changed his name to William the Conqueror.
It is estimated that more than 1/10th of the entire population of the Soviet Union perished in WWII. We are talking military and civilian casualties.amounting to more than 23 million. If we add up the estimated military and civilian deaths in Germany, Italy, Austria, Poland, France Japan, Australia, the UK, and the USA, the total does not even reach 20 million. Ponder that for a moment. Now consider this, one rarely thinks about China in the Second World War. The fighting between Japan and China was especially brutal. It is estimated China lost 10 million in the war. see this
The name "Wendy" was made up by J.M. Barrie for the book Peter Pan.
Lord Admiral Horatio Nelson was incurably seasick.
At one point this morning I had totaled 180,081 visitors to this piece o' crap blog. I like number patterns.
My Great Grandmother was named Josephine. My only aunt was named Patricia Jo. My name is Joe. My daughter's middle name is Jo. Cue the soundtrack from Fiddler on the Roof -- Tradition!
Instead of this worthless crap, read a good blog post on this Labor Day weekend:
September 2, 2011
Whether to Golf or Work -- a handy guide
Maybe, just maybe, The Obama should have devoted his attention to the economy and blessed us with his great jobs plan last month instead of going on another vacation. Then we would have had a jobs growth greater than ZERO in August.
Perhaps the President could have spent some time on the economy in lieu of playing 70 or 80 rounds of golf this year.
Maybe.
Perhaps the President could have spent some time on the economy in lieu of playing 70 or 80 rounds of golf this year.
Maybe.
Sie Mich Zum Flughafen
I had the strangest dream this morning. It was entirely in German. I could speak it (slowly yet perfectly) and understand every syllable spoken to me. In real life, my German consists of please, thank you, beer, airport, and counting to seven. I also know a few curse words. I cannot understand anything said to me. But in my dream I sure could. Is it possible there is hidden knowledge deep in my genes from my German ancestors? Drei Bier, bitte. Perhaps the whole thing stems from visiting the land of the Cheeseheads this week. I had a great dinner of knackwurst and bratwurst and kraut one night.
It looks like we are going to see some serious heat again today, with the temperatures expected to hit 100. I know folks in Texas and Arizona are just laughing.
Based on a phone message I got last night, it looks like I am going into the long weekend on a downer. I suspect I am about to lose a chunk of business from a major customer. I will know later today. If this happens I will be able to take some small comfort in the knowledge the decision was not based on anything I did or could have done. It is just business, but pride does come into play and it is my job to grow business, not let it slip away on my watch like a deserter out the back door of the barracks.
It looks like we are going to see some serious heat again today, with the temperatures expected to hit 100. I know folks in Texas and Arizona are just laughing.
Based on a phone message I got last night, it looks like I am going into the long weekend on a downer. I suspect I am about to lose a chunk of business from a major customer. I will know later today. If this happens I will be able to take some small comfort in the knowledge the decision was not based on anything I did or could have done. It is just business, but pride does come into play and it is my job to grow business, not let it slip away on my watch like a deserter out the back door of the barracks.
Dear Republican Party
The first order of business Tuesday, when you return to work, should be to introduce a bill extending the payroll tax cuts.
If tax cuts spur the economy (they do) then you should move forward.
Take the wind out of The Obama's sail. Do not let him bundle a good idea with a plethora of bad policies like more stimulus.
Make The Obama veto a tax cut or let him agree tax cuts are good for the economy and job growth. The American people get a win, the Republican Party gets a win.
Or you could just sit around and react. That has worked so well in the past.
If tax cuts spur the economy (they do) then you should move forward.
Take the wind out of The Obama's sail. Do not let him bundle a good idea with a plethora of bad policies like more stimulus.
Make The Obama veto a tax cut or let him agree tax cuts are good for the economy and job growth. The American people get a win, the Republican Party gets a win.
Or you could just sit around and react. That has worked so well in the past.
September 1, 2011
Dear Andre Carson
Is it true that some of the liberal Democrats who are members of the Congressional Black Caucus just want to rape white women?
While some may not actually want to rape every white woman, your policies of increasing Governmental control of our daily lives and unsustainable debt amount to rape. I stand by my position.
What? Why would that offend you?
BTW, I think I heard some unnamed members of the Congressional Black Caucus shouting "Cracker" while walking on the Congressional grounds last year after the Obamacare vote.
While some may not actually want to rape every white woman, your policies of increasing Governmental control of our daily lives and unsustainable debt amount to rape. I stand by my position.
What? Why would that offend you?
BTW, I think I heard some unnamed members of the Congressional Black Caucus shouting "Cracker" while walking on the Congressional grounds last year after the Obamacare vote.
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