In the spirit of the season

I intend to dress up like a guy who does not wear a Halloween costume tonight when I pass out candy to the three Trick-or-treaters we expect this evening. In other words I will be sporting jeans and T-shirt.

I was born a ramblin’ man

Yesterday’s poor me post got me to thinking about travel. Not so long ago I was doing some calculations. Windshield time is good thinking time. Based on various company car odometers I know I have driven in excess of one million miles. I estimate I am getting close to 800 airplane trips. I wish I had kept exact track back when I started traveling. I know my first business trip via plane was to Albany, NY in the late 1980s.

Somewhere In the archives  there is a list of airports I have flown to, through, and from. I have added a few since, so the number is probably 50 or 60?

I have more nights in a hotel room than a $5 hooker. I’ve been a Hilton diamond member for a decade, and top tier frequent stayer in other chains before that. Let’s say I stayed an average of 30 nights a year, I know that is low, that would be more than 700 nights in a strange bed since 1993. That is a bunch of hotel points!

I used to highlight in my atlas every city I hit on a business trip. The atlas wore out. I have been to 45 states, not all on business, but most. I have been to 14 different countries, at least 10 of those were for business.

I know business people who make my travels seem insignificant. I have a buddy who is a true road warrior. He is gone Monday through Thursday or Friday every single week. I know folks who have taken foreign assignments. I know a few international players who go overseas every month. There are guys who travel the highways every day, but still get home every night. They are definitely traveling men. Those who work in the airline industry or even some in the military laugh at my minuscule record of my excursions. I do think I have been out and about more than your average bear.

 I don’t travel like I used to. I don’t want to fly 120 legs a year. I don’t want to log 70,000 miles a year behind the wheel of a sedan. But I have. It is what makes me, well me. Besides, it has provided a wealth of blog fodder, even if my rambling tales and travelogues are the soporific you need before bed.

Get up there Sal, we’ve passed that lock...

Here we are on a downright cold Sunday morning. It is overcast and still dark at 7:41 AM as I hunt and peck at the little iPad keyboard. If it dries out, I have some outside stuff to do. I need to put the hose away for the winter, dismantle the swing, and clean up debris from the big willow. Nothing hard, nor too time consuming. I should rip up the tomato plants from the garden. Summer lingered well into fall, and we went from the 80s to the 40s in a hurry. Now all of those chores need doing.

Why the urgency, you ask? I’m off to the Far East next weekend. I offer a lower-case “woot” to express my lack of excitement. Back in 2013 when I went to China the trip was way better than I expected. Perhaps that will be true this time as well. If I am honest, it is the trip itself that sucks. Usually, my favorite part of traveling is the “getting there”. Twenty hours-plus on various planes, trains, and automobiles is no fun. I was thinking about it yesterday, it was more than fifteen years ago when I did a lot of international travel (is going to Europe 5-6 times a year a “lot”?). Not that I am ready for a bed in a nursing home, but hard travel at 40 is different than travel at 55. I don’t know how to explain it, but business travel is not vacation travel. You have to adjust to the time ASAP, meetings and work start right away. There is no relaxing ramp-up to get used to your surroundings. Colleagues want to make sure you are entertained, so long days end with late dinners, followed by yet another early morning.

It sounds like I’m gripping, and I am. I also recognize I have been fortunate enough to go all over the world on an expense account. That is indeed, pretty cool. Short of the military, I have travelled more than most people. I have seen stuff most people dream about. I have walked the Great Wall, seen the Louvre, the British Museum. I touched the Rosetta Stone. I have visited cathedrals and castles. I also put in 15-18 hour days for a week at a time and spent more days than I can count away from my wife and kids. International travel most always extends over a weekend. Or two.

 I would leave in an instant for a vacation trip to just about anywhere. Traveling around the globe to work; meh. It is hard to explain to anyone who has never had to do much business travel. In my heart, I know the trip will be fine.

 I just wish I could get the hang of chopsticks.

I came upon a child of God...

I went to the doctor this morning. He was moderately happy. My blood sugars are still too high, but overall my A1c has dropped down to 7.8. Not where I want it, but reduced 30% from just a month ago. If the wife would keep from making pies and cake and cookies in the evening it would help. I suppose some would argue it is my own fault for eating said bad stuff. That is crazy talk, every bad thing in life is someone else’s fault. She is lording her sugar privilege over me. I need a safe space, preferably one with a comfy recliner, large TV, cold beer, and cigar smoking.

One side effect of the various meds is my weight is good. I weigh less today than I did when I got married. In fact,  I weigh pretty much what I did upon high school graduation way back in 1980. Last week I hit what has to be a 30 year low. My weight is down nearly 60 pounds from when I started this blog. Maybe I need to change the web address?

I have regretted the blog domain Fat in Indiana since about a year into this exercise in navel gazing. What a stupid name. Unfortunately, I have never been able to think up something really clever, and starting over is just too much effort. Besides, there is 137 years of genius captured in the archives of this blog.

I finished the Ken Burns Vietnam documentary last weekend. It started fairly even-handed, but took a decided anti-war turn in the final few episodes. Nixon evokes a powerful hate among the leftist types. I was somewhat disappointed to find that a majority of the vets interviewed throughout the series ended up as anti-war protesters. They were part of the bunch who chucked their medals over the Capital fence and rooted for John Kerry in his “I saw war crimes” testimony before Congress. I suppose their later political position does not color their impression and war experience, but I cannot help feeling there must be some bias there and I question the whole series based on that.

Oh, well, I’m sure no one at PBS cares what I think. Why would they?

Have a great day.

About the blog

I’m still here. Breathing and thinking;  everything a sentient human ought to do. Except writing stuff here. That, I’m not doing. Well, except I am. The fact you are reading this is proof. I haven’t, -written, that is - for a few days.  Confused? Me too. 

There was a layer of frost on the pumpkins this morning. There was frost on the grass as well. I suspect that cold snap will kick-start the trees into fall mode. The leaves on most of my trees are decidedly green.  

I could fill the next couple of paragraphs with complaints. You are not interested. Rest easy, I won’t go down that path. 

I haven’t watched any baseball, but I wish I would have last night. It sounds like a contest for the ages. Oh, well. I won’t lose sleep over it. 

The granddaughter is spending the night. That is good. 

Look, I have just served up ample proof my life is boring, I have nothing to say, and my apathy level as regards the old blog is pretty high. You have shown a remarkable disdain for repeats. 

What do you want for nothing?

All the right moves

I pulled my T-shirt down over my sweaty back and surveyed the lawn. The grass was cut in nice straight strips. The trimming had been done around the numerous flower beds, ornamental bushes, trees and the house and patio. And this was in the prehistoric days before weed eaters and electric trimmers. I had trimmed the entire yard with those old scissor-type trimmers. Grandma asked me if I wanted to come in for a game of cribbage, but I told her I had to get home and clean up. I had a date. She said I could have a Coke, so I went down to the basement where she kept the soft drinks. It took just two long drinks to drain the little six ounce bottle.

Why does Coke taste so much better in little bottles?

When I came back upstairs Grandma handed me a bunch of cut daisies.

Some money would be nice.

She said they were for my date. I told her kids did not do that stuff anymore, but she said the girl would love it.

The girl met me at the door and gave me a wooden look when I held out the flowers. I told her they were for her and they smelled good. She stuck her face into the bouquet then handed them to her mother to put into water. We left for the movies.

Time to execute, initiate the set up. 

As we walked through the parking lot I stretched first my right arm then my left over my head. I repeated the motion in the ticket line. I explained I had been 'landscaping' all day and my arms were stiff. 

Oh yeah 

We took our seats for the movie and I held her hand during the previews. 

Take it slow HB. 

A few minutes into the movie I stretched the arms again, this time I slipped my left arm around her shoulder. 

Oh yes, you are smooth. Now the tricky part, take it slow and she will never know what is going on

She leaned against me. She turned to me and smiled. I gave her my best 'make her melt look'.

I slowly let my hand drop down and brush her breast. When there was no response, I repeated. 

Yes, yes, yes, she does not even know what I am doing! 

I let my hand rest on her booby. I began to gently massage. 

Go, go, go, yes!

I felt her breathe deep. I squeezed gently. I kissed the back of her neck. She began to breathe a little deeper. I rubbed against the nipple, I think it was getting hard. She began to breathe rapidly. She was almost panting.

Holy cow, she was getting hot

She whispered something, she was out of breath. "What?" I said.

"Stop" she moaned a little louder. I pretended not to hear. 

No no no no no

She brushed away my arm and hissed "Quit, let go". 

"I thought you were getting excited" I whispered into her ear.

"No, I am allergic to flowers, I can't breathe -- I need my inhaler."

A repeat from May 2007. Still a classic.

Rinse and repeat

Outside it is the same as yesterday — cold, gloomy. It is perfectly seasonable. It is not raining, though. Perfect weather for a pot of chili or soup. Also for sentence fragments and punctuation errors.

I have to confess, as much as I like baseball, I have no interest in this year’s World Series.

I have no interest in the politics of the day, either.

We covered the weather. We hit on sports. We touched on politics. What else is there? I am reading an account of the Alamo by Walter Lord.  I’m barely into it. I enjoyed his account of the Battle of Midway, I read it as a teen, and his writing of history is remarkably readable.

That’s it for today, I’m off to work.

Yawn

It is a rainy, dreary Monday here at the old homestead. Cool to downright cold temperatures are expected throughout the week. The recent spate of warm weather coupled with a bit of rain has my tomato plants confused. A bunch of blooms have formed that will never bear fruit once it drops below 30 next weekend. I have a couple of dozen green tomatoes that are ripening slowly in the weaker fall sunshine. I will try to pick them and either fry them up (my wife doesn’t like them fixed that way) or let them ripen in the window.

It was an uneventful weekend. We babysat Friday evening. Saturday we visited some friends and played euchre. Sunday I mowed the yard and watched some very bad football.  I am sure you are bored just reading about it.

I did paint the mailbox post to the approved neighborhood color. It has been the wrong color for at least the four years we have lived here. I got a note from the HOA last spring and ignored it. My neighbor said he had some paint left over if I wanted it. So making things right cost me about 15 minutes of my time and the water to wash out the brush. I am now right with the the autocrats.

Hmmm

More thoughts on my previous post:

Instead of focusing on who said what to whom, the media should be asking what were US service men doing in Niger anyway?

Head shaking sadness

Dead soldiers deserve more than to be mere pawns in a he said/she said political war.

Happy dance

Friday! This has been one very long week. I will be ecstatic come five o'clock, but I am giddy as a fly on a dog turd this morning.

Yeah, I know the Cubbies lost. Down at one point 3-0 in the series with the Dodgers, it was inevitable. I stated at the start of the playoffs I did not think Chicago could get past LA. You can't win it all every year. I didn't think it would be that ugly though.

I finally got the money my old employer has owed me since February. It is not a lot of cash, about a normal bi-weekly paycheck, but welcome as a drink of cool water in the desert. Too bad it is earmarked for bills. The tiny bit extra? Well, the wife dropped her phone yesterday and cracked the screen into a spiderweb of destruction. Sigh.

I did get a $10 credit from Amazon for the e-book price fixing settlement. Free books!

I'm off to work, enjoy your Friday.

Dear NFL

You are the National Football League, not the National Reform the Criminal Justice System League. Not the Equal Pay League. Not the Hands Up Don't Shoot League. I guess you just don't get it. We want you to provide needlessly violent sporting events for our entertainment. If I want politics, I will tune into the Sunday Talking Heads political shows that air on TV before your Sunday games.

If that means no more pink shoes and sweat bands during your cancer awareness weeks, I can live with that. I think we are all aware cancer sucks anyway. If the athletes that play your game want to do community activism, good for them. They can do it on other days of the week. I don't participate in my pet causes at work, and the players shouldn't either.

Just like the stupid anchor on ESPN who advocated a boycott of NFL sponsors, you are destroying the source of your income. The NFL cannot live on ticket sales. Focus on football, it is your core mission. Anything else is a waste of time, money, and energy.

Stuff I think about

Why is it the only people in America without an ubiquitous cell phone poised to capture every moment in pictures and video are the people who regularly have encounters with space aliens and Big Foot-like creatures?

Going to bed angry and disappointed

I know you don't care about baseball. That is OK.

The Cubs are down 3-0. There is no way they can come back from that deficit.

No matter how bad the bullpen or the Skipper's head scratching decisions, if the Cubs cannot score runs they will not win.

The idea we could see a Dodgers/Yankees World Series leaves me wanting to puke. I would even root for the Cardinals over the Dodgers, and I would root for just about anyone playing the Yankees.

Words to live by

Thomas Payne’s once wrote:

“You will do me the justice to remember, that I have always strenuously supported the Right of every Man to his own opinion, however different that opinion might be to mine. He who denies to another this right, makes a slave of himself to his present opinion, because he precludes himself the right of changing it.”

That pretty much sums it up.

A whole post devoted to stuff you do not care about

Almost all of my children came to dinner last night. My middle one is living in Colorado, so dropping by for some lasagna was not really an option. Other than his vacant chair (figuratively), we had a great time. It was nice to all be together, reminiscent of the great summer crowded house adventure *.

It seems none of my favorite sports teams can manage to play in the second half of a game. The Cubs have choked away opportunity after the fifth inning in the past two games. The Cots presented us with another horrible second half performance, par for the season so far. I'm not sure getting the star QB back will change anything. Tennessee managed to score on every possession but one, that one a lucky pick six by a Colts linebacker. Other than that errant play, the Titans scored on every other possession. I'm not sure if you created a hybrid Manning-Montana-Brady quarterback clone he could overcome a defense that gives up 30+ points a game, mostly in the late 3rd and 4th quarters. Sheesh.

I said at the beginning of he season the Colts would win five games. I am not sure that was correct. They have won two. I don't think there is anyone else on the schedule they can defeat. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

  Go forth and prosper on this beautiful fall Tuesday.




*check the archives, but you really outta be reading every day

Conclusions

Here we are on a chilly fall Monday. Naming the weekend unremarkable is an understatement. I mowed the lawn Saturday. Yesterday was wet and gloomy. I think it is clear that my choice in shirts has nothing to do with the performance of my sporting team. Who knew?

Looking in the mirror yesterday while shaving I came to another conclusion; at 35 I looked 25. At 55 I look 65. Stuff always averages out in life. And yes, I was still getting carded at the beer store when I was in my mid-thirties. I always looked young in my youth. I paid kid prices at the movies until I got caught. The same clerk sold me a "child" ticket on Friday and remembered me when I wanted to see an "R" movie on Saturday. I was old enough for the adult movie, but my days of cheap kiddie tickets were over. I bought a senior ticket the last time we went to the cinema, even though it said you had to be 60. I'm not into Senior discounts, except the movie theater is so darn expensive.

Enough empty rambling. Have a good Monday.

Dear California

I thought you were going to take your ball and go home in a fit of secession fever? You don't want the evil US of A telling you what to do on immigration and stuff. The very notion the rest of us ignorant flyover country rubes ignored your wishes and elected the Trumpster was just too much.

Now you want Trump to send you money and help because you managed to fall asleep while smoking and set the place on fire?  Isn't it strange how those icky red staters are willing to help? A whole bunch of nasty Republicans control the money spigot.

Keep in mind Uncle Sam will not be sending any "sorry about your big fire" baskets of goodies after you secede.

The Chicago Cubs are Trying to Kill Me

Come on, other than last year's Game 7 has there been a crazier elimination game? I have no idea who will pitch Saturday, but the Cubs pulled out a miracle. It looked for a while like neither team wanted to win. It's like the pitchers from both teams said " we carried you this far, now let someone else do it". We saw It all, balls hurled to the backstop like a Little League game. Catchers throwing the ball into right field -- again shades of 9 year-old baseball. Walks, hit batters, dropped fly balls.  It was ugly and exciting and nearly killed me.

Now I'm struggling to get to work. Getting to bed after 1:00 in the aye em does not make for a productive day at work. Thank goodness it is Friday.

How about that post yesterday? It had it all, just like the good old days: pictures, links, the works. Don't get used to it. I'm back hunting and pecking on my crappy, outdated iPad once more this morning. Enjoy your Friday and if you see me slumped at my desk, please wake me up when it is quitting time.

Speaking of quitting time, wouldn't it be cool to slide down a brontosaurus at the end of the day like Fred Flintstone?

Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Cynical...

I am an Eagle Scout, a Firecrafter, OA, the works. I was a Boy Scout until I was 18, holding every leadership position possible in the organization. After college I started out helping a local troop as a merit badge counselor. That role quickly morphed into Assistant Scoutmaster. The boys loved a young twenty-something leader that was a bridge between the "dads" and themselves. I was closer in age to the boys and could relate with them better in a lot of ways.

After a couple of years I was approached by the professional Scouting types about becoming one of them. I interviewed at a couple of councils, was offered a couple of jobs. The only problem is I figured it out by the second offer. The Boys Scouts of America didn't really care about the boys, "scouting" was ancillary. They were interested in numbers; sign up more boys, raise more money. The program was a means to an end, not the driver of the organization. I said no thanks.

Suddenly, the move of Boy Scouts in the seventies to a more urban-centric program made sense. The camping, hiking, knot-tying culture of Baden Powell depicted in traditional  scouting (See the Disney flick "Follow Me Boys") appealed to rural boys. The population centers were in the cities, places without fields and campgrounds. The sixties were hard on the Boy Scouts, they needed more members. Thus the change to more urban-themed programs. To get my hiking merit badge I had to do a "city hike" ? I had to march up and down every street in my little town to get in the requisite miles.

I am not astonished the Boy Scouts of America is inviting girls into the ranks. My only surprise is that it didn't happen earlier. They let women become scoutmasters decades ago. The constant pressure from the LGBT community and cut-off from corporate funding and access to public accommodations resulted in changing the rules a few years ago. This new announcement was just another step to remain viable in the modern age where camping, cooking, and hiking in the woods has less appeal to modern teenagers. Why march around when you can play a cool video game?  Heck, neither of my sons joined the Boy Scouts, only one was even a Cub Scout.

To be honest, nerdy perpetually horny 16 year-old me would have loved a couple of chicks in the tent next to me at summer camp. "Let's go for a hike in the woods, Baby". I was taught four ways to start a fire without matches, maybe now they will teach coed scouts three ways to have sex in the woods without getting preggers. Identifying poison ivy is probably still a valuable skill, though.

Up on the North Side

The Cubbies were rained out yesterday. They resume their battle with the Nationals late this afternoon. I'm off on a little jaunt to visit a local customer this morning and I scheduled myself for a sales training webinar this afternoon. I do not anticipate either event will interfere with me getting my baseball fix. Yes, I intend to knock off work a little early. Don't tell my boss.

I am so happy to see my favorite team competitive and winning. Just a few years ago I remember watching and listening to the Cubs losing as a regular course 90 and 100 games in a season. Now they win that many!

I can't help myself, I fully expect the worst in every playoff game. Every inning is torture as I anticipate the big breakdown. I drop into despair with every dropped ball, every bloop single by the other team. My wife gets sick of reassuring me all will be fine. A lifetime of disappointment will do that to you. When it comes to the Chicago Cubs one unimaginable wonderful season cannot erase a lifetime of "wait until next year".

Will they repeat as Champs this year? Probably not. Back-to-back World Series is hard and rare. Yet, I know I am a pessimist when it comes to my favorite sports team. Win one more against the Nationals and then we will see how the Northsiders do against the evil Dodgers.

They have to win today first.  Arrieta takes the bump. We know he will have one bad inning. He always does. The question is how much damage is done before he gets his location back. Will it be a few base runners, a lone homer? Will it be a big five or six run inning? We shall see. I know my emotions will bounce from happy to sad like ping pong ball.

They way it should be

Reasonable people can disagree. You can have a dialogue. We each present our position. There is no name calling. There are not insults and epithets tossed like hand grenades.

I knew my take on the Pence walkout would not be popular. That is OK. I gave my reasons. Most of you disagreed. We had a good discussion. That is how it should work. There was no mention of "tea baggers", no one was called a fascist.

Look, I disagree 100% with the kneelers. Anyone who does not think the movement is a protest against America did not listen to Kaepernick the day after he started this nonsense.

The NFL has let this tarnish their brand. Those who are angry at Cowboys owner Jerry Jones have it wrong. There is no free speech at work. When you are getting paid by the man, you follow his rules. You are on his time. You don't get to stage a sit-in at work, neither do athletes. Unless the owners let them. It is their company. They make the rules.

Anyway, thank you for he polite discussion. You gave me plenty to think about.

If you disagreed with me, you are wrong. 😎

But that is OK.

This position will not go over well

VP Pence's walked out of the Indianapolis Colts game after members of the 49ers knelt during the National Anthem. His actions were pure politics, obviously pre-planned and a waste of taxpayer monies. It was, in plain words, horse crap.

Of course players were going to kneel, the Veep knew it when he came to the game. San Francisco is the team where the protests started. Pence came to make a grandstanding political point. Nothing more. The fans of the Colts paid the price in extra security to get into the game and ultimately for the pane trip and security through taxes. You did too.

I'm no fan of the kneelers. I think they should choose a different venue to make their point. But I'm also not in favor of Pence's publicity stunt. My first take of the event was smug self satisfaction. Then I wondered what I would say if Obama or another lefty wasted my tax money like this? I would bitch and rant.

Pence injected politics into football. What he did was no different than what the kneelers are doing. I'm tired of it. Politics is intruding into every facet of life, is it too much to ask for three hours of entertainment free of political commentary and protest?

Yes, yes, I hear you. If the kneelers have a right to their free speech so do President Trump and Vice President Pence. They do. I just don't want them wasting a bunch of taxpayer money flying their family and crew across the country to make a political point. Pence upstaged a tribute to the Colts greatest player; Peyton Manning's  jersey was retired at halftime, and that upstaging is sad in itself. It demonstrates a level of egotism and assholery not previously exhibited by the VP.

I swear I'm convinced every elected official should get "it is not your money" branded on their forearm as a condition of taking office.

In the year 2055

A statue of Peyton Manning was placed outside the Colts stadium in Indianapolis yesterday. If ever there was an athlete that deserved to be honored in his city, number 18 is that guy, and not only for his feats on the gridiron.

I wonder if future us will look back years from now and see something else in that chunk of bronze? By then football will be banned as a brutal, nasty sport loved and viewed by craven right-wingers and Southeners. A sport just removed from gladiatorial contests of ancient Rome, a sport where men bashed their heads to the point of brain damage, where limbs and backs were broken, where injuries left the participants nearly crippled in old age. The statue will harken to a time civilized society would want to forget. The statue will remind many of the suffering of their grandfathers, the glorification of violence. Will future us see the statue as a representation of the corrupt NFL owners who blackmailed the public to finance their coloseums and practice facilities? Will that statue of old number 18 represent the fabulous wealth some players got at the expense of the balance of the roster? Will it be a symbol of the enormous amount of money colleges made from athletes who got little in comparison in return for their pain and sacrifice on the playing fields? Will future us wonder why a predominance of the rosters of this dangerous activity were minorities?

Will there be a movement to rip this statue down, to put it in a museum where "context" can be applied? Will it just be tossed into a park full of old broken statues like the one on Moscow that is littered with pieces of old Lenins and Stalins? Will we be ashamed of that statue of old number 18? Will there be clashes of old clingers in their faded football jerseys fighting modern soccer fans and their enlightened scoreless games, where fans and participants leave with self-esteem intact and bellies full of prepared slices of organic oranges? "Save the statue!". "Tear it down!".

Will future us be able to view history through a cloud of modern bias? Probably not. Don't worry, though. By the time that stadium is fifteen or twenty years old the owners of the Colts franchise will demand a new facility and the statue will be chucked right along with he perfectly good building it stands beside.

Bad attitude blogging

It is a crappy day. You don't want details. Let's just agree that it sucks for a Friday and leave it at that.

Mom always told me if I cannot say anything nice then I should not say anything at all.

Anything at all.*

Baseball playoff games that I actually care about start this evening. That is a good thing, so all is not lost.

I ran to the store at lunch. Walking back to my car I passed a woman in the parking lot talking on her phone under a large plaid umbrella.   It was not raining.

I don't feel too bad about this post, you actually got the content of two posts yesterday combined into one omnibus of genius and insightful commentary. You did, I don't care what you say.

I'm not going to post Friday music. You will get over it, if you even notice.

Enjoy your Friday


* there are so many negatives in the sentiment I am unsure if I wrote something smart-assed or not.  I intended to.

Is there a translator app for pig Latin?

Did you know Custer won the Medal of Honor? You know, the Custer who died at the Little Big Horn, who fought as a young man in the civil war? The Custer in the 7th Cavalry? Indeed, he won the nation's highest award for valor. Not the Custer you are thinking of, not George Armstrong Custer, but his little brother Tom. Honest, look it up. I would not lie about stuff like this.

Edit: in fact, he was the first to earn the Medal of Honor twice. 

The Senate is moving closer to speeding the process to get driverless cars to the market. Can I get a show of hands? Who wants a self-driving car? Isn't a vehicle where you are along for a ride just a bus? You know this is going to backfire. The auto manufacturers think this will open a whole new market and increase sales. Über and others envision a fleet of cars hovering around just waiting to drive you where you need to go, eliminating the family vehicle. The cost of paying for a ride will be cheaper than owning a car as you dispense with insurance, fuel, and paying for a depreciating chunk of steel and plastic sitting unused for hours at a time in your driveway and parking lots. If you insist on driving, dangerous human you, who makes bad decisions, will pay outrageous insurance rates. GM will scream wait, we did not intend for this to happen, but it will be too late. Unfortunately, I doubt I will be dead before all of this happens, so I can bore my granddaughter with tales of how I used to drive myself to school, in the snow, uphill.

I do not possess the vocabulary to adequately express my loathing of the idea of self-driving cars.

Snarking down the Highway

It is raining. I'm pretty sure no one predicted that. Maybe they did. I was in Chicagostan Monday and Tuesday so I might have missed it. I got home late in the evening and went to bed a couple of hours later, before the weather report came on the late night news.

I wish I had some interesting tales of travel to relate. It was an uneventful drive, a standard room in a cookie cutter hotel, an unremarkable burger for supper, a day of meetings at the corporate office and drive home. Ho hum. Ho hum. I did see a woman at the truck stop when I stopped to pay my coffee rental that was testing the stretch limits of her yoga pants. The only stretching she did in those britches was to reach for some more ice cream and Oreos. I could almost hear the nylon and rayon blend fibers screaming in pain like a heretic on the rack in Inquisition-era Spain. The flesh jiggling and bouncing in her rear end resembled a couple of raccoons fighting in a burlap bag.

I just read where a city in Georgia offered to change the name of their burg to "Amazon" if the retail giant agrees to move their headquarters there. I hope, if that comes to pass, the name change will have more relevance 50 years in the future than the morbid gambit Mauch Chunk, PA made when they offered cash and a city name change to the widow of Jim Thorpe if she allowed his remains to be buried in the town cemetery. How's that tourist attraction working out these days? "Kids, would you rather go to Disney World or Jim Thorpe?". Yeah.

Look it up, I wouldn't lead you astray.

I have to get to work. Enjoy your hump day.

About last night

Every day I'm reminded that man is an animal, the top predator, and one that kills just to kill. There is evil in this world.