Best Wishes for a great 2021
2020 cannot be gone soon enough. Good Riddance, I say. But not before I wish my internet friend best wishes for the happiest of birthdays 🥳
Thanks for reading and be safe.
If you drink, don’t drive
I plan on stealing a kiss from my girl at midnight for the 42nd year in a row even though I have to be at work at 6:00 AM tomorrow. So it goes.
Happy New Year.
Sigh
Internet troubles abound so I’m typing this on my trusty little phone. That is far from optimum. The things I do half-arsed for you
The year is winding down and good riddance I may or may not have a year end review post for you on the morrow.
I won’t, but I may wish you a happy New Year
I have the very early shift at work so at some point I’ll post. Maybe
In case I don’t, Happy New Year and my heartfelt thanks for reading this almost-daily drivel
A cowboy appeared before St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.
“Have you ever done anything of particular merit?” St. Peter asked.
“Well, I can think of one thing,” the cowboy offered.
“On a trip to the Black Hills out in South Dakota, I came upon a gang of bikers who were threatening a young woman. I directed them to leave her alone, but they wouldn’t listen. So, I approached the largest and most tattooed biker and smacked him in the face, kicked his bike over, ripped out his nose ring, and threw it on the ground. I yelled, “Now, back off or I’ll kick the shit out of all of you!”
St. Peter was impressed, “When did this happen?”
“Couple of minutes ago.”
I hope you all had a wonderful holiday. I did, once again reminding myself it is not about the stuff. We had a great dinner at my daughter's. The Grandgirls had a blast opening and playing with their new toys. My youngest son was there (although his girlfriend was sick at home) and we video chatted with the middle son. It was a great and wonderful day. On Thursday we went up and visited with my dad. I refused to worry or dwell on my problems. It was a great Christmas all around.
It remains cold with temps in the teens and wind chills near zero. A small warm up is expected starting tomorrow. I won't notice. I'll be at work. It has been nice having some days off, but I will be back at it this week. I expect the "returns" cart to be full all day with returned Christmas stuff: used displays and lights, unwanted goods, and equipment purchased by doing-their-best to choose the right gift spouses.
Yeah, I said used lights and displays. People are horrible and amazingly dishonest. It breaks my heart to see what people are capable of. It would never occur to me to buy something, use it, and take it back to the store. I am so naive.
Onc group of people who never fail to live up to my low expectations are the politicians that run our government. The corrupt men and women of both parties once again have decided to load a simple bill to help out the American people with tons of pork, including foreign aid. Nothing like borrowing money to give to someone else. Finally, at the end, the Government purse strings were opened enough to return a grudging pittance to the taxpayers.
I have said often that every elected politician needs to get a required tattoo on the back of their right hand that reads "That is someone else's money" . It would need to be painfully re-done every time they win an election. Oh well, I'm sure once they got into office the corrupt pricks would find a way to avoid it, make money off of it, or dump the responsibility on someone else.
See, there we go veering into politics and ruining the good vibe I had built up.
Have a great Saturday.
When four of Santa’s elves got sick, the trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones, and Santa began to feel the Pre-Christmas pressure.
Then Mrs. Claus told Santa her Mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.
The day is off to a cold start this December Friday..I had the closing shift last night and again today. Then I have the midday shift over the weekend. Whatever.
I'm a bit sore and achy this morning. My old shoulder injury from pitching baseball has returned in recent months. I guess that torn rotator cuff did not heal itself, even if it is a decade later. I should confess the shoulder injury was from pitching hundreds of balls every day to the boy when he was playing lots of baseball or maybe I have injured it again. Who knows? It doesn't matter. Ibuprofen will get me by.
We still have several Christmas presents to get. I have purchased nothing at all for the wife. The granddaughters are done and that is what is most important. It will, by necessity, be a sparse Christmas this year. I am OK with that. It stresses the wife beyond measure. I keep telling her the kids and family don't mind, they know the score. But growing up exceedingly poor has marked her in many ways. She enjoys giving during the holidays, I guess because she never "got". She doesn't want stuff for herself, but she gets immense joy from watching others get gifts.
I have so many favorite Christmas tunes it is a tough choice to find one to post here. I'm running out of days. I know you are waiting impatiently to see what music I will choose. I just know you are.
Have a great Friday.
Every day, a male employee walks up very close to a female co-worker at the coffee machine.
He stops, inhales quite deeply and says that her hair smells nice.
After a week of this, the woman can’t stand it anymore.
She takes her issue to a supervisor in Human Resources and asks to file a sexual harassment grievance against the guy.
The supervisor is puzzled and asks, “What’s threatening about a co-worker telling you your hair smells nice?”
“It’s Roger. The midget.”
We got an inch or two of snow over night. It is the first measurable snow this season and I'm giddy as a school girl. Not really. But it doesn't bother me. I like winter. I cleaned off the drive and sidewalks before the grandgirl arrived. I'll probably have to do it again later.
Today is the oldest granddaughter's 6th birthday. We are going to her house for dinner and present opening this evening. It will be fun. She lost both front teeth in the past week or so. I sent her a video of the song All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth. She thought it was hilarious.
She outsmarted me the other day (I know, it is not hard). We have had a long running "joke". She loves unicorns, like every little girl. I always insist a unicorn is really a raccoon and a raccoon is a unicorn. I don't know why, it is just my thing to tease her about. She gets indignant and we both enjoy the long-running joke.
Over the weekend I programmed the Alexa to respond with a description of a raccoon when it is asked "What does a unicorn look like?". When the granddaughter came over after school Monday I worked unicorns into the conversation. When she started to tell me I was wrong I asked the Alexa the programmed question. The granddaughter stared at the device for a moment, her face a puzzle. She looked at me, frowned. Then she asked Alexa what a raccoon looked like. Of course it answered correctly. "Ha!", she said "You made it say that, Paw". Caught red-handed, all I could do was laugh.
Maybe you had to be there.
A pastor explained to his congregation that the church was in need of some extra money, so he asked them to consider being more than generous. He offered that whoever gave the most would be able to pick three hymns.
After the offering plates were passed about the church, the pastor glanced down and noticed that someone had graciously offered a roll of $100 bills. He was so excited that he immediately shared his joy with his congregation and said he’d like to personally thank the person who placed the money in the plate.
A very quiet, elderly, saintly lady in the back of the church shyly raised her hand. The pastor asked her to come to the front, so she slowly she made her way towards him.
The pastor told her how wonderful it was that she gave so much, and in thanks he asked her to pick out three hymns.
Her eyes brightened as she looked over the congregation. She pointed to the three most handsome men in the church and said, “I’ll take him and him and him.”
Sorry 'bout that. It seems my ancient and decrepit iPad no longer works with blogger. I had to fire up the almost as ancient and decrepit laptop to post anything.
Anything.
I wasn't in the mood to move off the couch and trudge upstairs to blog from the laptop yesterday, so you got bupkiss.
A decidedly cold wind is blowing outside on this mid-December afternoon. I think I will throw together a pot of chili for supper. Yep, It will have macaroni in it. Yes, it will be soupy. This is the Midwest, not Texas. No, it won't have cinnamon. That is for those losers in Cincinnati.
I had the opening shift at work this morning. I sure did not want to crawl out of be d when the alarm went of at 4:20 this morning. No, that is not a typo. The new schedule has me opening the entire week after Christmas, including New Years Eve and New Years Day. Hooray for me. Dont worry, I have plenty of time to whine about that in the coming days.
I hope you are having a good Monday.
The sunrise paints the sky in pinks and pale blues through the bare branches of the trees. It is cold. Not atypical for mid-December. It should warm up nicely this afternoon.
Here we are on a Friday. Don’t worry, I’ll post some Christmas music. I know that’s why you stopped by. Ha!
I thought it might be nice to offer a little content too. That is proving difficult.
For the most part I sit down and just start typing my posts. Most of the time what you get is stream of consciousness. “I know”, you say. It normally takes around ten minutes, tops, to compose an entry. “I can tell”, you say. Quit interrupting. Today, I’ve been at it twenty minutes and this is what we have. I know.
I guess I could opine on politics. My heart isn’t in it. I’m sick of hearing about the Virus 24-7. You don’t want to hear me complain about my Not So Wonderful Life. It won’t do any good anyway.
I guess the point is I have nothing to offer. Not that I ever did, but in the face of my current life it is just to hard to show up at the old blog. It just may be time to put it out of its misery.
We shall see.
In the meantime, listen to the marvelous Judy Garland from the great Meet Me in St. Louis.
“Next year all of our troubles will be out of sight”. Indeed and Amen.
Have a great Friday.
Why do men become smarter during lovemaking?
Because they are plugged into a genius.
Why don’t women blink during lovemaking?
They don’t have enough time.
Why does it take a million sperm to fertize one egg?
Because they don’t stop to ask directions.
Why did God give men larger brains than dogs?
So they don’t hump women’s legs at cocktail parties.
Why did God make men before women?
You always need a rough draft before you make the final copy.
A kindergarten pupil told his teacher he had found a cat this weekend. The teacher asked if he took the cat home and took care of it.
“It was dead,” informed the student.Happy Sunday, blog friends. It is a chilly, but seasonal, day here at the homestead. There is a forecast for snow on the morrow and again later in the week. I don’t mind, it is that time of year. The place is starting to look festive as the wife has been busy decorating every room, nook, and cranny in holiday splendor.
In other news, I don’t have any. The leftists are girding their loins for a January takeover and we will sit back and see what freedom-usurping policies they impose upon us.
Enough on that. I’m in a great mood and don’t want to spoil a good cup of coffee with politics.
How about some Christmas music to kick off the Season?
Well too bad, as long as I have the keys to this place I get to choose the content.
Enjoy. Or not. Here is Bing’s version:
It is with interest to read various opinion pieces discussing how to rid the GOP of “Trumpism”. There is nothing to stir the loathing of a career politician or the ruling class’ angst like a populist. The proverbial old boys club hates an outsider. Despite their endless and meaningless platitudes about democracy, there exists, and has always existed, a mindset that some people know better than you and ought to rule.
Nothing scares the ruling class like the notion of the masses truly voting. Look at the Gracci in Ancient Rome. The Historians of the Empire certainly gave a sense they thought the Brothers were to blame or screwing up things, and certainly by the time history really came into stride with the Victorians that was the underlying theme. One could make the argument Caesar was assassinated as much for his popularity among the Plebian class as for his usurpation of power. To mix metaphors, Caesar was taking the rice bowl from the bureaucrats and They didn’t like it one bit.
If the Never-Trumpers had any balls, they would have staged their own Ides of March . Wait, they tried with the whole Russia, Russia, Russia thing. I suppose a literal stabbing in the back was just too icky and messy.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, scared the Western World like the French Revolution. Not so much the tossing of the Bourbons, they owed money to everyone and they were never going to repay, but in that the peasants were taking charge and lopping aristocratic heads with regularity. Now that was a problem. Likewise the the Russians a hundred years ago.
Don’t feel so smug. We haven’t treated our American populists much better. Andrew JAckson has fallen a bit out of favor and the Populist of all Populists, William Jennings Bryan, is treated with more than a little condescending disdain in our own modern histories. More recently, look at how both political parties feel about Ross Perot.
The aristocrat-types hate a populist. The very construction of our government is by design built to limit the ability of populism to steer the course of politics. Sure, there is a wink and a nod to letting the People have their say, but the passions that elect the House are limited by the two year term juxtaposed by the six year term of the supposedly more deliberative nature of the Senate. That’s why originally Senators were elected by the States, not the general populace and why the President is chosen through the electoral college, not the popular vote.
If you want Exhibit A on why populism is a bad idea, look at what has happened to Federalism since the Seventeenth Amendment was passed . One of the first acts of a wholly popular-elected Senate was to outlaw alcohol. Cripes.
It will be interesting to see what happens to the Trump era in history. I say that metaphorically, since sober history won’t be written until long after I’m dead. Of course history is written by the victors, and the aristocracy hates Trump with a burning passion, so I suspect Orange Man Bad will be vilified like most populists in history.
Let me take a moment to offer my thanks for your support, prayers, and especially for reading this blog. You have no idea what it means to know you stop by to see what I have to say. I don’t know why, but I am thrilled you do.
I want to give thanks to Him, who has blessed me in more ways than I can count and infinitely more than I deserve.
Now go and eat some food and get off the internet.
Monday. It’s a short week for some of you. Since my life is retail Hell, I’ll be on duty and feigning cheerfulness all weekend starting Friday. Hooray for me, hooray for you. I was slated for a short closing shift this evening and then off until Friday. I have been asked to open Wednesday — likely setting Black Friday stuff, and possibly on Tuesday as well. I’ll do it, I need the money.
This is a hard and sad week for the family. My grandson’s birthday is Wednesday. It is probably good that I work. A busy body makes for a quiet mind. Thanksgiving dinner will be at my daughter’s this year. I think she finds the cooking therapeutic. Still, a shadow of sadness will dull the festivities. At least I don’t cry every time I visit him these days.
The wife and I put the ornaments on the big tree last night. I’m not sure if we are going to put up the other one. I’m not in charge of decorating. The outside is mostly done except for hanging the wreath on the door.
There you have it, the boringness that is this blog.
Worth every penny you paid to read it, eh wot?
Milk Duds and coffee, the breakfast of hopeless romantics like me. No, chewy chocolate covered caramels are likely not on my approved diet, but I’ve been a good boy for the most part. I’ve walked just over thirty miles this week. My weight is down to within the ideal BMI charts.
I did a brief test of the Christmas lights after dark and a section of the big wreath over the garage is out - from 3 o’clock to 5 o’clock. I picked up a cheap box of replacement lights at work yesterday evening. Yes, I paid for them.
In other news, I have nothing. The local football team plays the late game. I’m off work. I expect those factors mean the wife will expect me to do something rather than sit on the couch and watch movies or read another Travis McGee adventure. I’m also reasonably certain naked wrestling is not what she will have in mind as an alternative activity. It is raining so I won’t have to rake the remaining leaves.
Do you want some music to round out your Sunday? Why not? This is the last regular tune before I start subjecting you to Christmas music next week. Let’s find a good one. This is one of my favorites by Led Zeppelin:
Have a great Sunday.
Yesterday was a gorgeous November day here at the homestead with temperatures reaching nearly 60. I took advantage of the day off and finished the Christmas decorating outside. Lights are up, wreaths are hung, the little tree and wooden snowman are on the porch opposite my old sled. Of course none of the decorations will be lit prior to Friday. I have standards.
This is what the place looked like last year. It looks the same this year. The wife decided she wants a string of lights around the garage door, so I may add that this week. If you look closely those upstairs windows at the left hand side of the picture, clouded in shadow, you will notice my office where all of my blogging genius originates. I’m sure future historians would like to memorialize the location as a museum to my greatness.
After I did the decorating, I headed out back to rake some of the leaves in the backyard. The three Bradford pears have finally dumped their leaves, so the detritus is about a half foot thick. I got about 1/4 of the backyard done. Now it has started raining, and it is expected to continue for the next week, so I don’t know when I’ll finish.
So it goes. Enjoy your Saturday. I made other plans.
One would think that since Biden has a law degree, spent his whole life in Washington, and ostensibly will be POTUS, he wold understand Consttutiooal Law just a smidgeon. It was reported on the National news yesterday he and his team are so frustrated with Trump’s refusal to concede that Biden is considering going to court.
For what? There is no law that indicates Trump must work on a transition. He is POTUS until January 20, like it or not. None of his powers are reduced. He does not need to concede legally. Just ask Stacy Abrams.
More to the point, the election for President has not even occurred. Many States have not finished the counting, they have not certified the results. The Electors do not meet to vote for President until December 14th.
If I know that (and I didn’t sleep n a Holiday Inn Express last night), wouldn’t we expect Biden to understand?
I’m alive.
Nothing to report. I’ve had the very early shift again the past few days. Now, lucky you, it is a rare evening post.
Not that I have anything to say. I just hate the idea of not posting. Damn you Acidman for instilling those blogging habits. Of course the Acidman has been dead for a very long time and likely would have migrated to Facebook and twitter anyway like most of he old bloggers. I suspect many of you have no clue who the Acidman was. I’m still here though: 6,900+ posts into this thing. More than a million visitors over 15 years.
Thanks for reading. I mean that.
A man and his wife are dining at a table in a plush restaurant, and the husband keeps staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sits alone at a nearby table.
The wife asks, “Do you know her?”
“Yes,” sighs the husband, “she’s my ex-girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up seven years ago, and I hear she hasn’t been sober since.”
“My God!” says the wife. “Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?”
A steady cold rain falls on the homestead grounds this morning. The outside temps are seasonal as I sip coffee and hunt and peck one-fingered on the iPad keyboard. I have to shower and shave and pack a light luncheon in preparation of the early, but not as early as other days, opening shift at the big box this morning.
The wife suggested it is time to think about dragging the Christmas decorations from the attic. I think it is early, but she wants a head start on her massive redecorating she does every year. A few houses in the neighborhood are already lit up. One house fired up their lights the day after a Halloween. Of course that is the same house that burns Christmas lights until April...
I don’t know what the wife has in mind, but I am hankering for some fried chicken for supper. Some mashed spuds and white chicken gravy really sound good.
I had a political commentary half written in my head, but I will torgo it at this point other than to say there are reasons for Trump not to concede the election and reasons why the Democrats and media (redundancy alert) are pushing for it so hard. What would you say if you learned Biden underperformed Hillary in every Blue city except Detroit, Philadelphia, Milwaukee, and Atlanta? The four places with questionable voting in four battleground states. All places with extraordinary turnout and near unanimous votes for Sleepy Joe. Something to think about.
How about some music to brighten your day?
A newlywed couple gets a special present for their nuptials: a brand new sports car. As they leave the wedding reception, they are so excited they drive faster than they ever had before.
“I’ll make you a deal,” said the groom with a smile. “If I do 200mph, you take off your dress. Deal?” he asked.
“Yes!” said his adventurous wife.
As he approached 200mph, she begins to peel off her dress.
With him unable to keep his eyes on the road, the car soon skidded on some gravel and flipped over. The bride, now stark naked, was fine, but he was jammed beneath the steering wheel.
“Go and get help!” he cried.
“But I can’t. I’m naked and my clothes are gone!”
“Take my shoe and cover yourself,” he said.
Holding the shoe over her private area, the bride ran down the road and found a service station. Still holding the shoe between her legs, she pleaded to the service station proprietor: “Please help me! My husband’s stuck!”
The proprietor looked at the shoe and said: “There’s nothing I can do… he’s in too far.”
I’ve discussed before how history leads me down rabbit holes. Here is another example.
A good friend of mine was going through his mother’s stuff after she died a month or so ago and ran across an envelope written from a hospital in Nashville in 1865. He wanted to know why his relative was in Nashville, and asked to help figure out what unit he served. We knew he was from Boone County, IN.
I started with a battle order of regiments in the Nashville Campaign. And advised him to look up the ancestor’s pension records. I knew that many men from Boone County served in the 10th Indiana, but they mustered out in ‘64 and if they reinlisted were moved to the 58th Indiana that served in Sherman’s March, not the Nashville Campaign.
I looked up Boone County regiments and lo and behold found pension records from 1890 and 1894! And there it was, his great great grandfather. Two pages later was my great great grandfather.
Bates, William E. Pvt. Co. H 7th Cav. Iowa. Civil War. Present address: Reeses Mills, IN. 4 children under age 16. Gunshot wound in right arm at Cow Creek, Kansas.
My relative listed his residence as Reeses Mill. Wait, what? Where the heck is/was Reeses Mill, Indiana? I’m sure it was a place not a location because others in the pension roll listed it as their address too. I found a family tree of one Joseph Reese who was listed as postmaster of...Reeses Mill. But that was in the 1830’s. I know the Bates family farm was near Mechanicsburg, so the Mill was probably along Sugar Creek. My Grandmother was born on that farm...
Hold on, did that say gunshot at Cow Creek, Kansas? I don’t remember a gunshot wound. And what happened at Cow Creek?
No not that skirmish.
Fighting Indians along Cow Creek. Ah there it is, a history of the Seventh Iowa Cavalry....
There I find this:
Bates, William E. Age 18. Residence Cleopatra, Mo., nativity Ohio. Enlisted May 12, 1863. Mustered June 19, 1863. Promoted Eighth Corporal March 10, 1864; Sixth Corporal Aug. 23, 1864. Transferred to Company H. Seventh Cavalry Reorganized.
Cleopatra, MO? How in the heck did he end up in Indiana if he lived in the west at the start of the war...
See, I have historical ADD.
The cool thing is my friend’s great great grandfather and mine probably lived less than 10 miles apart in the late 1800s. They might have known each other. How wonderful is that?
Covid cases are soaring everywhere. During the run-up to the election we got a constant pounding from the media that alluded to a failure on the part of Trump as the reason. Buried, if mentioned at all, was that cases were on the rise globally. That didn’t fit the narrative. Even the dumbest of Democrats wouldn’t believe Orange Man Bad was causing people to be sick in France or Bulgaria, or wherever.
Now that the media — not the electoral college or state governments — have declared Biden the victor, we are seeing fewer stories blaming Trump for the Covid increases domestically.
Why is that? It sets the stage for the Big Excuse come early next year. The media will explain that no President can cause nor heal a virus. We just have to ride it out and wait on a vaccine. And taking a page out of the Obama playbook, Biden will just blame it all on Trump if it does come up. He will wait to do that because he has no different answers, despite his claims to the contrary. It worked for Obama on the economy.
Oh, remember when the media scoffed at the President’s claim a vaccine would be ready in November?
Hey, don’t worry. Joe has a plan to cure the pandemic without destroying the economy. He just won’t tell us yet, because I guess credit is more important than saving lives the next three months. He did say if we all wear masks this would go away.
In my community, 99% of people are wearing masks, and the Wuhan Flu ain’t going away. Of course if the same people who tell us to skip Thanksgiving and stay out of restaurants and close the schools would quit lauding riots and protests where hundreds are gathering without masks, maybe the situation would improve? I’m looking at you Indianapolis.
Today marks yet another September-like day with temperatures in the upper seventies. Like I have over the past four days, I raked the leaves in the front yard. It is a waste of time since the neighbors on either side don’t rake theirs at all so they blow into my yard. So it goes.
The warm weather is supposed to move out with a cold front later tonight, followed by more seasonal weather. I’m ok with that too. It doesn’t matter if I’m not, does it?
Sorry, this just cracks me up:
I guess they didn’t follow their own rules.
Little Johnny attended a horse auction with his father.
He watched as his father moved from horse to horse, running his hands up and down the horse’s legs, rump, and chest.
After a few minutes, Johnny asked, “Dad, why are you doing that?”
His father replied, “Because when I’m buying horses, I have to make sure that they are healthy and in good shape before I buy.
Johnny, looking worried, said,“Dad, I think the UPS guy wants to buy Mom.”
The wife and I have always had this agreement. Should Esther Williams circa 1937 or Catherine Zeta-Jones, or Elizabeth Montgomery circa 1967 show up at the house exclaiming their need and desire to be with me, the wife will give her hearty consent. Likewise she can have a George Clooney or Thomas Rhett or whomever strikes her fancy these days.
Sorry Catherine Zeta-Jones, but you are out, off the list. Esther, go jump n a lake. Samantha, make yourself disappear. You have all been replaced with my current Hallmark girlfriend:
Lacey Chabert has taken over the number one slot among fantasy celebrity girlfriends.
Running a close second is Autumn Reeser because why not?
It appears we will have a Sleepy Joe Presidency.
I think the vote was more a repudiation of Trump than an embrace of the Democratic platform as evidenced by the gains in the house and in State-level governments. The Senate will hinge on the Georgia run-offs and that will clearly give credence to my theory. Or not.
The good news is we can expect an end to the Wuhan flu as soon as Biden takes office. He has a plan to defat it, he told us so, and exit polls indicate the Corona is the largest issue in voting. Be careful of what you wish for.
Here’s what we can look forward to:
I see the lefties are protesting and rioting again this evening. Supposedly to make sure every vote is counted. It seems to me that is exactly what is happening. Some votes have been counted last least two or three times to get the “right” results.
One thing is for sure, 100% of Americans think 50% of Americans are crazy.
After work I drove on past the house a half mile or so to my polling place. There weren’t many cars in the church lot. There was no sign of Proud Boys or Antifa looking to make trouble. No protests. No riots. I moseyed in and there was exactly one person voting. No line at all. Poll workers outnumbered voters by about five to one. I jumped behind the machine, did my civic duty and was out of there in less than five minutes including showing my ID and digitally signing in.
Thanks to everyone who voted early making my trip to the polls smooth, quick, and easy.
Unfortunately, the lack of an hours-long wait to vote left plenty of time to rake leaves.
It's important to pay good attention to the election signs in the front yards. Last time I voted for a real estate agent.
I’ve retreated to my office with the space heater running. I figure I can get moderately warm in that confined space. The rest of the house is a chilly 52F. I’m looking out the window anxiously awaiting the arrival of the HVAC man. The wife went to the grandgirls to babysit there today. The current inside temperatures are too cold for the girls, especially the 18 month old who refuses to leave on her socks.
Last night was the coldest night of fall so far. The good news is temperatures are expected to moderate this week, reaching back with to the seventies by the weekend. No matter, we have to have a furnace.
In other news, it seems that in addition to new brakes and tires, the wife’s our car needs a transmission overhaul/replacement. The repair costs are quickly escalating past the value of a 2012 model car with 119,000+ miles.
Life happens. There is no point in crying about it. I maintain an only slightly wavering faith that things work out like they should.
Blogging will be sporadic the balance of the week. You will not get your accustomed morning post unless I put one in the can for future publishing. I have the very early shift (5:30AM) every Day Tuesday through Friday. I might post in the afternoon or not. Check back ten or twelve times a day to be sure.
If you remain unsure how to vote I’m afraid nothing I write will sway you.
The wife summed it up for me. She said she isn’t voting for Trump. She is voting for the Republicans because the leftist tilt of the Democrats is just too much. Plus, she thinks Harris is a real bitch. And my wife rarely swears.
The wife and I were on the couch last night watching a Hallmark Christmas movie.
There were these most unlikeable characters. They were blue blood, snobby, “your off the rack dress looks nice on you, dear”, crumpets and caviar, “the maid did a wonderful job decorating the tree this year” types.
The wife adjusted her blanket and stretched her feet towards the space heater and said “I could never stand to be rich and be around stuck-up people like that”.
I looked at her and replied “There’s no f-ing danger of that, Charlotte”.
And that is why we have been married more than 36 years.
A woman named Jill stood up at her church’s Testimony Meeting one Sunday morning, took the microphone from one of the church ushers, and bared her soul to the enrapt congregation:
“I want to tell you about the awful accident that my husband, Jim, has suffered this past month. He was riding his Harley, lost control, ran off the highway and hit a tree. He was rushed to the hospital, and could have died, but thank the Lord, all he suffered was a broken scrotum.”
The congregation gasped in horror. The men in the congregation were obviously uneasy and writhed in their seats.
“Jim has been in terrible pain all month since the accident. He has trouble breathing. He has trouble swallowing his food. He can hardly lift anything, he’s in so much pain, and he has missed work because of it. He can’t lift our children up to hold them and give them the personal love that they need. Worst of all, we can no longer cuddle and have intimate relations. He is in constant pain, a pain so terrible that our love life has all but slipped away into oblivion. I would like to ask you all in the congregation to pray for Jim, and pray for us, that his broken scrotum will soon heal and be as good as new.
A dull murmur erupted within the congregation as the full impact of this terrible accident sank in, and the men in the congregation were visibly shaken up with the thought that, “There but for the grace of God go I.”
Then, as the murmuring settled down, a lone figure stood up in midst of the congregation, worked his way up to the pulpit, obviously in pain, adjusted the microphone to his liking, then leaned over and said to the congregation:
“My name is Jim, and I have only one word for my wife, Jill. That word is: sternum.”
Here we are, early on a Friday. Very early. I woke around 4:30 and stared at the ceiling until I got up around five.
We have worked out things and a new furnace will be installed next week. Woot and yay! Since it is an uncomfortable fifty-nine in here right now, any warmth is a welcome prospect. It is interesting to discover in the absence of heat, just where the drafty places are in the house. Clearly, someday when things are better, we need new windows and doors.
A worry for a far distant future.
Halloween comes tomorrow. I expect turnout to be low here at the old homestead. Not just because of the weareallgonnadie virus. Trick or a treaters never show up at the cul-de-sac. I suppose we have had thirty or forty kids show up bag in hand total over the past seven years. Once Halloween is past us we move right into Thanksgiving and Christmas. I’m good with that. Christmas is my favorite time of the year. Christmas trees and decorations have been out for a month at work. Hallmark has kicked off the Christmas movie marathon. It is cold. Now I just need a new job by Christmas.
Since it is somewhat of a tradition, what say we have a little music on this autumn Friday? I was going to put up some New a Wave punk. How about something more in tune with the season? Have a great Friday.
Bob, aged 92, and Mary, aged 89, were excited about their decision to get married. While out for a stroll to discuss the wedding, they passed a drug store. Bob suggested they go in.
Bob asked to speak to the pharmacist. He explained they’re about to get married, and asked, “Do you sell heart medication?”
“Of course we do,” the pharmacist replied.
“Medicine for rheumatism?”
“Definitely,” he said.
“How about Viagra?”
“Of course.”
“Medicine for memory problems, arthritis, jaundice?”
“Yes, the works.”
“What about vitamins, sleeping pills, Geritol, antacids?”
“Absolutely.”
“Do you sell wheelchairs and walkers?”
“All speeds and sizes.”
“Good,” Bob said to the pharmacist. “We’d like to register for our wedding gifts here, please.”
There is nothing like negativity and outright fear mongering in a political ad. Todd Rokita is running for Attorney General of Indiana. The Democrat’s are running spots telling voters Rokita will take away their insurance and coverage for pre-existing conditions. The problem is that the Attorney General doesn’t make law. He cannot take away any insurance from anyone. He hasn’t the power. Only the legislature can create law. The whole spot is an outright lie, praying on people’s fears and lack of civic knowledge.
Whether you like hm or not, the entire campaign is a misleading lie and despicable. I won’t vote for his opponent for the outright disingenuous advertisements.
With the rise of self-driving vehicles, it's only a matter of time before we get a country song where a guy's truck leaves him too.
Look, I don’t know what a holla back girl even is. I do know that I put in a full day at the big box retail joint and then spent the evening eating pizza, playing cards, and laughing with our good friends. That makes for a good Saturday.
Sunday? I have no idea what is in store beyond once again working. I’m slated for a short five hour shift today so I’ll be home early. I suggested to the wife I could make a big pan of lasagna and invite all of the available kids over for dinner. She seemed non-committal. Of course the oldest boy lives in another state and couldn’t obviously come.
Of course it is fitting that the one Sunday I’m off early the local sports ball team is off. So it goes.
More disturbing is that the rancid MLB commissioner has stated he wants all of the odious covid rules initiated for this season to become permanent. I hate, hate, hate the Little League-like putting a runner on second to start extra innings rule, and I despise the designated hitter. Now he says he wants to outlaw defensive shifts. WTH? Maybe modern players should take the advice of Little Willie Keeler and “hit it where they ain’t”. That strategy was good enough to put Keeler in the Hall of Fame.
In other news, I’ve received enough election junk mail to last a lifetime. And I cannot imagine the money both women have spent trying to get elected to Congress for my district. Frankly, I hope both lose. They seem unpleasant persons all-around. But then who but a power hungry jerk wants to be a politician anyway? Those same people who want to tell you what to do. I can’t imagine the boot-licking they have to do to raise enough money to get through an election. No wonder every politician from every party comes across as a swarmy, insincere, spineless toad.
I need to grab some breakfast before I go do my time. I have leftover biscuits and gravy from supper Friday night. Maybe I’ll heat that up. Enjoy your Sunday, amigos.
VP Mike Pence made a big show of showing up to vote early in Indianapolis yesterday.
The problem is he doesn’t live in Indiana. He owns no property in Indiana. His listed address is the governor’s mansion, which he clearly does not occupy.
He is thus not a resident of Indiana and his vote is null and void.
I got a flu shot yesterday. My shoulder is a little sore.
Yesterday was gorgeous. Temps pushed into the low eighties. I raked some leaves, and sat on the patio and enjoyed a cigar before firing up the grill to cook some thin ribeyes to make sandwiches for supper. It is still relatively warm today. I may try to mow one more time, should the rain hold off this morning.
My wife, who is pretty much non-political, points out just how biased the media has become. After the debate last night the local station did a “fact check” of candidates claims. They examined something aTrump said and declared it “mostly false”. A statement by Biden was declared to b “half true”. The connotation is obvious. The wife just shook her head and said “They don’t even try to be evenhanded anymore, do they?”.
As near as I can tell, Biden is trotting out huge old Democrat playbook. Here is pretty much his platform:
Why not? At least it is a righteous tune.
Sunny! Warm! A great day! Lots of exclamation points!
I may even rake some leaves today, providing they are not too wet. Or not. I shall let whim dictate my activities today.
Speaking of doing things on a whim, I have decided to grow a beard. I am sure I’ll stick with it until the beard gets to that itchy, scratchy stage about three days from now. Perhaps I’ll just let it go. I last had a beard back in college, so it will be interesting. That time I went full Amish — beard, no ‘stache. This time I’ll go for the whole thing. Unfortunately, some three decades plus since I last had facial hair, I’m afraid the beard will be white, not dark and curly.
There is a debate tonight. So I’ve heard. If you’re not sure which way to vote, then you should watch. If I want to watch stupid arguments I will turn in to Love it or List It.
I cooked up some beef and noodles for supper last night. Since that is my favorite meal, I was a happy boy. After dinner it started in raining. It rained hard. We had thunder and lightning. It was a regular April thunderstorm in October that continued throughout the night. I always sleep well when I’m a little cold and when it is raining. Last night was both together, so I slept deeply and long. I sure didn’t want to get up when the wife’s alarm beeped me awake this morning.
I’m covering the midday shift at the big box today. I’m back to the opening shift again for the weekend and all next week. I’m telling you now, you won’t be getting your morning dose here at the old blog next week. Brace yourself and prepare for withdrawals, unless I find the wherewithal to can a post or two. You will be OK. Take a spin down memory lane in the archives if you need to. They are located over on the right, unless I change the template in the future. Then future you might find the archives on the left. But future you knew that because you are reading this post from the archives, which means you’ve already found them...
My head hurts.
Good morning comrades.
I’m just practicing for when the Commies Democrats take charge.
It is chilly here at the homestead. The furnace fairy still hasn’t made an appearance to put heat into our household.
I feel inspired.
*The wife loves day lilys
It’s cold and damp today. Outside too.
This is sure going up late, my internet has been down for a bit.
So it goes.
I heard a few raindrops splattering on the skylight while performing my morning abolutions. It is chilly again this morning, but not as cold as yesterday. I have the day off and my tired and sore body is thankful. The rain and cold will likely put the kibosh on leaf raking, yard maintenance or garage cleaning. I’m thankful for that too.
I have had the opening shift at the big box all week. I don’t mind the opening shift at work. The early start means an early afternoon quitting time, but that shift involves a lot of downstocking and lifting. The regular morning guy was on vacation last week, so I was the lucky fill-in. I’m also on the opening roster a bunch in the next few weeks, including next Saturday. And that is after closing on Friday night. There is nothing like knowing you will have to be back at work a mere eight hours after you clocked out. I pray a real, decent paying job comes along soon so I can get out of retail before the holiday crush — and the bank decides they need my house and car worse than I do. All of which keeps me up at night, thus the early shift is no burden. I was awake anyway.
You didn’t come here to read my complaints. I sure hope not anyway.
My first cup of coffee is about gone and I’ve mostly run out of words. I suppose I will refill my cup and go see what words of wisdom are written on your blog this morning.
Have a great Sunday.
I saw a BLM protester speaking on the news. She said “I just want to be heard”.
My first thought was “Isn’t that all we have heard for the past five months?”.
I guess I’ll just have to plead guilty when I’m called before the hate crime commission once Kahhhmela gets rid of old Basement Joe.
It is a chilly 31F here at the homestead this morning. I have the day off after several opening shifts down at the big box retailer. The future schedule includes many more of those early mornings. I’m not sure what is up with that.
I didn’t watch either town hall last night, so there will be no commentary from me on that.
I’m a bit worried, the surrounding Blue States have imposed a quarantine on Indiana because we are extra virousy, I guess. I have an interview next week with a potential real job. The interviewer is coming from out of state. I hope he doesn’t cancel because he will have to quarantine for two weeks when he goes home.
So how does one State bar citizens from another from freely engaging in interstate commerce? Can a truck driver who stops in Terre Haute not deliver in Marshall? Can the folks from Da Region not go to work in Cook County?
This is what the executive orders and powers spawned by the pandemic has wrought. A little power corrupts into a lot of assumed power and your Freedom is eroded away. There may be good reasons, but Liberty should always be paramount in any government decision. As the saying goes, Hell is paved with good intentions.
That’s it, I have dangerously encroached upon my No Politics Friday policy. See how easy it is to overstep?
Stop it, Joe
How about some Friday music to lighten the mod? Let’s mellow out a bit. Enjoy you day.
I know you don’t read links. Do your self a favor and read Fuzzy’s well thought out piece on the notion of Court packing. READ IT HERE.
I think he is on to something.
