Remember

 

Start your engines

It was a long and not-as-busy-as-expected day at work yesterday. I came home and showered up in time for an overnighter with the grandgirls. We had a pasta dinner then a movie. A good time was had by all. 

Today’s plans are up in the air. I vote for throwing something on on the grill: burgers, chicken, steak, whatever.  I’m willing to make some potato salad or macaroni salad for a summertimey meal. So what if temperatures won’t break out of the sixties? 

I put out my American flag this morning. It sets the sprit for the weekend. 

Speaking of which, here are a couple of sad tunes for this weekend’s featured music:

Let’s jump back to the Civil War one more time, shall we?

Have a great Sunday.

Does this smell spoiled to you?

 I have an early shift today. It’s gonna be busy. 

.....

Look. I don’t know. Like most posts where I go in early on a Saturday this drivel is prerecorded and canned.  I’m not even going to pretend today (yesterday). 

I’m off Sunday and Monday so I’ll put up fresh content those days, OK? 

Here is today’s artists of the weekend: Music from both World Wars:

Nondescript Noodling

So here we are on Friday. I thought I might sit on the patio and sip my coffee as the sun warms the eastern sky behind the big willow. Alas, it is drizzling and the sun is obscured by clouds.  I could go out to the front porch. I could just sit here on the couch. Not strapping on The Boot and plopping on the couch wins. 

I clumped my way through work yesterday. There was a modicum of swelling, no more than on the day before, and very little this morning. My leg is sore from the rubbing of The Boot. I will get used to that in time. I suspect today will be ugly in that regard. Unless there is significant change I won’t whine about The Boot or my foot further.other than to report all is well or not well in four weeks, except to say The Boot sucks (not as bad as a plaster cast though).

My oldest son and middle child is visiting from Colorado. He is best hombre at a wedding. We won’t be around much, but it is good see him. He was home for a quick 48 hours in February when my dad died. Prior to that I think it had been almost a year. I miss him. He has started playing music again. He played me a snippet recording. I liked it better than some of the later stuff he did with his old band. It has more of a pop rock vibe and is far lass heavy. 

Enough nonsense and filler. I just know you are sitting on the edge of your seat in anticipation of this weekend’s musical artist. My first blush was to go with CSN, but since it is Memorial Day weekend, I decided to go with a more military-themed approach. Here are some songs you may not know and might find interesting. Or not. 

Have a great Friday

Do you remember?

Uncle Jim is getting older, and he’s having trouble with his memory.

So he went to his doctor, and he started taking these pills to help his memory.

“Hey Uncle Jim,” I said, “what are those memory pills you’re taking called?”

“Ahhhh…um….hmmm” he took a second,

“Hmmmm…hold on let me think ermmmm…..it’s….daisy? No that’s not it….it’s petunia? No..no, let me remember….”

“Well is it like….Tulip?” I suggested?

“No, no. That’s not it…some type of flower I think”

“Is it rose?” I asked,

“Yes, Rose! That’s it!” He exclaimed. Then he leaned his head towards the doorway….“Hey Rose! What’s the name of those new memory pills?”

Not-so Golden Arches

I have had issues on and off with my right foot for several years. It started when I had a bad ankle sprain and never got it treated. I started walking on the outside of my foot to ease the pain. Coupled with exceedingly high arches, this tendency has caused occasional bouts of pain caused by repeated stress fractures. 

About a month ago my foot started to hurt. Really hurt. I bought some new shoes for work, but the pain only got moderately better. I decided to suck it up. I am a known complainer and noted wimp.  I was sure time would take care of this malady too. Still, to ease my wife’s constant nagging about my limp and swollen hoof, I decided to mention my sore foot during my regular scheduled doctor visit last Friday. He sent me for X-rays. 

I’m now the owner of one of those air cast boots. I have a broken foot. More specifically, a Jones Fracture.  The Medico says if it doesn’t heal I will need surgery. He also said based on my high arches I’ll likely face this problem again. Hooray for me. 

Life gets better and better around here. The Ortho Doc wants me off my feet for four weeks. My bills and bank account want me to work more hours. Health or electricity, food, and water. Choices indeed. There is no doubt the average of seven to ten miles I travel on hard concrete during a shift at the Big Box has contributed to this situation. I am just not sure how to fix the problem. I think my last hope is in lottery tickets I don’t buy.

The stupid is strong in this one

I read an article the other day discussing the origins of Nashville hot chicken. Along the way, the author wondered if it was appropriate for white people to enjoy the dish and wasn’t that cultural appropriation? 

It...is...just...food.

Are we only going to let ethnic Italians eat pasta, or Chinese lo mein? Can a Latino enjoy a taco, but the rest of need go without on Tuesdays? If so, then the next time an African-American wants some mashed potatoes with Sunday dinner they better throw those Russets in the trash, because that food came from the land of pale skin. Hamburgers, frankfurters? Spit them out — that is whitey food. German at that. 

See how blindingly dumb this “woke” stuff is? 

For people who fought so long and so hard to end segregation, many sure are trying hard to bring that evilness back. 

Nowhere Special. I always wanted to go there.

The title of the post comes from the ending of one of the funniest movies ever, and one that would never be made today. 

It also has nothing to do with today’s post.

I have a question for all of you supporters of the “poor oppressed Palestinians” out there. Had the terrorists in Gaza not sent thousands of rockets into Israel, would there have been bombings or attacks from the IDF? I’ll make this easy question even easier, feel free to use Wikipedia if you like, name one time when Israel started hostilities or invaded territory without provocation, Sadam Hussein style. 

I read an editorial in USAToday yesterday from a student living in Gaza, lamenting for paragraphs about her fear Israelis would bomb her apartment and kill her. I know, get Hamas to stop launching rocket attacks from civilian apartments, schools and hospitals. How about taking to the streets to stop your own government’s war? If Hamas didn’t attack, Israel wouldn’t respond. Duh.

Why the Jews in this country continue to vote overwhelmingly Democrat remains one of life’s great political mysteries. 

He's been workin' and slavin' his life away,

 Stupid birds. We can’t have anything nice. Case in point: the wife hung this yellow wreath on the door.

Nice and summery, right?

Then a filthy bird moves in:

Moratorium or not, that nest has been evicted. 

You didn’t come here for real estate discussions. You came for the music.

I said you came for the music.

We continue with selections from The Animals.

The theme for my current job:

Have a great Sunday. I’ll be working.

Don’t misunderstand me

I could bore you with the mundane details of life. I could lament that I woke up at the early hours of morning. I could discuss the gorgeous weather expected today. I could complain. I’m good at that. I could rant about politics. I will do none of that. I will just present a couple more selections by The Animals, this weeks featured artists.

How about a two-fer?

So are pipelines bad for the environment or not?

 Let’s see if I have this right; pipelines that create jobs in the US, help secure our energy independence, and offer safe reliable crude transport are very bad and must be shut down. Pipelines that help Russia are good. Got it, Joe*.  

And think, we were told for the past four years that Trump was in the back pocket of the Russkies. Funny, Trump opposed the Russian pipeline. Biden says “sure, go ahead”. One thing always remains true, hypocrisy remains the foremost plank in the Democrat platform. Ted Cruz may be correct. Just what does Russia have on Biden?

Where does the pouty Scandinavian teenager stand on this issue? She seems to be driving our climate policy rather than adults.

I’m off to the doctor this morning for my semi-regular diabetes check up. I expect my numbers to be acceptable. We shall see. 

Now on to the real reason you stopped by: the choice of weekend music. I know you anticipate this all week. By Thursday evening you are probably breathing heavy and doing a version of the pee pee dance, unable to sleep like before your first visit to Disneyland. 

Here we go:

You can never go wrong with the Animals, even if their biggest hits were covers.

The House of the Rising Sun has an interesting history.

Enjoy your Friday.

There was this lawyer...

 Farmer Brown decided his injuries from the accident were serious enough to take the trucking company (responsible for the accident) to court.

In court, the trucking company’s fancy lawyer was questioning Farmer Brown.
“Didn’t you say, at the scene of the accident, ‘I’m fine’?” asked the lawyer.
Farmer Brown responded, “Well I’ll tell you what happened. I had just loaded my favorite mule Bessie into the…”
“I didn’t ask for any details,” the lawyer interrupted, “just answer the question. Did you not say, at the scene of the accident, ‘I’m fine’!”
Farmer Brown said, “Well I had just gotten Bessie into the trailer and I was driving down the road…”
The lawyer interrupted again and said, “Judge, I am trying to establish the fact that, at the scene of the accident, this man told the Highway Patrolman on the scene that he was just fine. Now several weeks after the accident he is trying to sue my client. I believe he is a fraud. Please tell him to simply answer the question.”
By this time the Judge was fairly interested in Farmer Brown’s answer and said to the lawyer, “I’d like to hear what he has to say about his favorite mule Bessie.”
Brown thanked the Judge and proceeded, “Well as I was saying, I had just loaded Bessie, my favorite mule, into the trailer and was driving her down the highway when this huge semi-truck and trailer ran the stop sign and smacked my truck right in the side.”
He continued, “I was thrown into one ditch and Bessie was thrown into the other. I was hurting real bad and didn’t want to move. However, I could hear ole Bessie moaning and groaning. I knew she was in terrible shape just by her groans.”
“Shortly after the accident a highway patrolman came on the scene.
He could hear Bessie moaning and groaning so he went over to her.
After he looked at her, he took out his gun and shot her between the eyes.
Then the patrolman came across the road with his gun in his hand and looked at me.”
Finally, farmer Brown came to the end of the story.
“The patrolman looked at me and said, ‘Your mule was in such bad shape I had to shoot her. How are YOU feeling’?”

Elections do have consequences

President * gives money to Iran and the Palestinians and surprise, rockets start landing in Israel. 

President * says we are no longer going to deport illegals, and that the borders are just imaginary lines on a map and surprise, we have a crisis at the border.

President * says we are going to limit drilling and fracking for oil and surprise, gas prices skyrocket.

We have elected the Urkel of Presidents, “Did I do that?”.

But at least he doesn’t tweet mean things.

I cannot wait until I am king of the world

A post certain to anger more than one of my readers, but one wherein I’m absolutely right.

There is no legitimate reason to take your dog to Lowe’s or Home Depot.

The why? comes even more into question when your dog growls and barks and tries to fight the other dogs brought by other narcissistic look-at-me-I-have a dog owners.

That moves straight to WTF territory when you bring your dog and push it around in a shopping cart. 

If this is you, just stop. 

Spend my dollar

 I worked until midnight last night. I have to be back at ten this morning. Don’t expect my usual witty repartee, my I insightful analysis, my cutting jibes, my usual entertaining entry this morning. *

But I will toss up another selection for semi-oldies country weekend here at the old blog. Enjoy some Alabama:

I have an old blog post somewhere in the seven thousand that discusses the band Alabama, Gatlinburg, and my honeymoon. I’m too lazy to look it up and it really is not worth searching for anyway.** I’m not even sure why I mention it, to be honest. 

Anyway have a great Sunday. 

* true confession time. I wrote this Saturday morning.

** I looked it up anyway. No wonder I can remember the post. I just wrote it in September of last year. But no, it is not worth going back and revisiting if you did not read it at the time.

I showed up in boots

Worked late last night, slept in a little late this morning as a result. I had thought I might get a little yard work done this morning before work, but it is a bit on the chilly side at the moment. Besides, I don’t really want to. I have a three to midnight shift looming and spending the next 15 hours or so on my feet has little appeal. I think I’ll goof off and sip my coffee for a bit then reconsider my options. 

Isn’t it time the rabbits in Washington cleared out the razor wire and fencing? It is not becoming. We are not a nation of cowards, even if our ruling elite are. 

A dang dove is perched on the top of the fireplace, hooting and cooing and it is echoing down the flue. I hate doves. But that they flew from the ark and drowned. Sure the passenger pigeon went extinct, but their stupider cousin the mourning dove remains to annoy me on a sunny spring morning.

Pioneers recorded seeing huge flocks of passenger pigeons in the hinterlands of America. Experts estimate there were three to five billion passenger pigeons at one time. History says they were hunted to death, I say it was the noise of the giant flocks, to say nothing of the resultant guano that made it necessary to cull the birds to extinction. Do I feel bad about it? Not really. I can’t miss something I never new. 

Now that we have covered a variety of minutiae, it is time for today’s musical selection. Who doesn’t love shouting out the chorus of this gigantic hit? 

Hangovers hurt more than they used to

Here we are on a sunny Friday. I’m taking a few minutes to scribble an electronic post before the little granddaughter arrives. 

I have a tough weekend ahead of me; closing tonight and Saturday, and the mid shift Sunday. The good news I may have some opportunities to get new work in the coming weeks. It won’t be a better job,  but at least I won’t have to work every weekend. It won’t be soul-sucking retail.

Time for what you have really clicked here to see — what music will be featured this weekend. I planned all week to go with some classic rock, but just now decided to go in a different direction: eighties country.

Let’s start it off with some Boccephus:

And why not the counterpoint:

I played the heck out of this LP back in the day.

PS I saw Hank in concert back in the mid-eighties, up at the Holidome in Merrillville, IN. One of the worst concerts I ever attended. 

On you we (that’s French)

So there I was, combing through the archives, looking for none of your business. With each post I read I became increasingly embarrassed. Yes, I really was. 

No, not embarrassed for what I wrote then, rather for the pathetic shell this waste of letters and words has become. I’m sorry, faithful readers. Not to break my arm patting my back, but I once wrote some decent stuff. 

Oh, make no mistake, there was the usual garbage. The weather, the bad jokes, the “filler” posts. I certainly wrote a LOT more about politics in those days. 

I guess, neither I nor you can complain much. After all I charge exactly the same subscription fee to read here, and my salary for writing such drivel remains unchanged. 

I once swore I would never post a YouTube video here because it was lazy blogging. Snort.

I guess we can live with things as they are. As long as I fix the cigarette lighter.

The big wrap-up edition

Happy Monday, Blog world. Yesterday was strange weather-wise. We had heavy rain and thunder showers. That in itself is not so weird for mid-May. The notion that the furnace was running simultaneously is a bit out of the ordinary. Temperatures were just a notch above freezing (literally) again this morning. I carried the big planter of flowers I bought my wife for Mother’s Day into the garage to protect it from possible frost last night. Global warming, indeed.

Speaking of Mother’s Day, the wife was invited to a big Mother’s Day buffet with our daughter’s family and the invitation was graciously extended to me too, even though I am not a mother. Just a thought — I guess since my wife is a mom and we have participated in naked wrestling in the past,  you could argue I’m a real motherf... — anyway, the girls were sweet and the food was good and I ate myself silly. 

I spent the remainder of the day napping and watching movies. I suppose you could say I had a good Mother’s Day. 

I wish a

happy Mother’s Day to all of you moms out there.

I miss you mom.

Don’t Play With Me

Happy Saturday. I want to offer a quick reminder that Mother’s Day is tomorrow, so get your cards and flowers for the mothers in your life. Sure, it’s a Hallmark holiday, but it is for your mom, your wife, your daughter, the most important women in your life. Suck it up. They deserve it. 

On to this weekend’s musical artist — the erstwhile Rolling Stones. Mick and the boys formed in 1962 (a very good year for things to be born by all accounts). Contrary to myth, they were not bitter rivals of the Beatles, but friendLy fellow musicians. 

Anyway, here is a lesser know tune by the Stones, and another of my favorites. This song was the B side of the hit The Last Time:

And I surprisingly also like this song from Goats Head Soup, and in my experience you either love it or hate it:

Charley Watts looks bored to death in this video.I think he might be one of Angies haters.

Have a great Saturday . Me? I have other plans. I’m working three to midnight. Yay for me.

What’s the matter with you, boy?

Yeah, yeah. Too bad. How about another joke? There is nothing objectionable in this one that gets me labeled as a Neanderthal. 

Charles, a new retiree-greeter at Wal-Mart, just couldn’t seem to get to work on time.
Every day he was 5, 10, 15 minutes late.
But he was a good worker, really tidy, clean-shaven, sharp-minded and a real credit to the company and obviously demonstrating their “Older Person Friendly” policies.
One day the boss called him into the office for a talk.
“Charles, I have to tell you, I like your work ethic, you do a bang-up job when you finally get here, but your being late so often is quite bothersome.”
“Yes sir, I know, and I am working on it.”
“Well good, you are a team player. That’s what I like to hear.”
“Yes sir, I understand your concern and I’ll try harder.”
Seeming puzzled, the manager went on to comment, “It’s odd though you’re coming in late. I know you’re retired from the Armed Forces. What did they say to you there if you showed up in the morning so late and so often?”
The old man looked down at the floor, then smiled.
He chuckled quietly, then said with a grin, “They usually saluted and said:
“Good morning General, can I get your coffee sir?”

It is a Rolling Stones weekend! I know you are excited beyond words.

Here is my favorite Stones song:

I used to sing this to my kids when I shuffled around in the middle of the night trying to get them back to sleep. I can’t hit the high notes any more.

Aggravating

 Maw is outside hangin up the laundry, when she hears Paw in the kitchen.

Maw walks in and says, “Paw, get out there and fix that there outhouse.”
Paw says, “All right, Maw.”
Paw walks out to the outhouse, looks at it, and says, “Maw, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with this here outhouse!”
Maw says, “Yes, there is. Put your head down in the hole.”
Paw says “I ain’t puttin my head in that there hole!”
Maw says, “Well you’re gonna have to if’n you’re gonna fix the problem!”
Paw puts his head down in the hole (just a little bit mind ya) and he hollers, “Maw, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with this here outhouse!”
Maw hollers, “Now pull your head out of the hole.” Paw goes to lift up his head and he says, “Oww! OWW! Maw! MAW, my beard’s stuck in the cracks in the seat!”
Maw says, “Aggravatin’, ain’t it?”

Winning by accident

Frank was in my brother’s kindergarten class. He was in third grade with me. My brother was two grades ahead of me. Frank was idolized because he legally drove to school in Jr. High, but that is not germane to this story.

Back in third grade I was a runt. Frank was the opposite, a fifth grader in age, he was big even among his eleven year-old peers. Frank came back from Christmas break determined that I was responsible for anything that irked him at any given moment. He was irritated often. Nearly every day he promised I was going to get it after school. Apparently, he failed to grasp the notion that I rode the school bus, while he walked home, and that meant a promised meeting was pretty much impossible. 

Finally, Frank decided the fear of punishment was not enough to deter him from delivering the ass-beating I deserved for whatever I did to make him angry and swore I would get what was coming that day at recess. 

I hustled out to the playground. I knew Frank was a lot taller than me, so I climbed a pile of plowed snow beside the chain link fence around the school perimeter to help equalize the height difference. A crowd gathered as Frank approached. 

Frank wasn’t one of those guys who talked and boasted and threatened before a fight. He was a man of action. He came straight for me. I shifted position to prepare to run out of the way.  I tripped over an untied shoestring. I fell straight at Frank and we both tumbled to the ground, my elbow striking him square in the nose. Blood exploded over his face. As I scrambled to get up, my hand pushed him in the throat. He gagged and curled into a ball. Why not, I kicked him while he was down. A couple of times.

Then I ran. 

Frank’s friends helped him up, shielding him from the teacher monitoring the playground. He later said he fell on the ice to explain the bloody nose. 

I figured I was in for it the next day.

Instead, Frank became my biggest supporter. He thought I purposely fought him. And won. Everyone did. I had a newfound reputation and playground respect. 

Mom was always yelling at me to tie my shoes. 

She was wrong. Loose shoestrings saved my life. 

Dear Mr. Fantasy

I live in a fantasy world, one where I firmly believe the old adage that a government governs best when it governs least. I long for a politician that vows to go to Washington and vote “no” on any new law, regulation, or act until an old act or law covering the same subject is repealed. I want a representative like Davy Crockett, who once argued against paying a pension to a war widow, not because she didn’t deserve it, but because he could find no compelling reason to take money from taxpayers to give to another citizen. 

Too many politicians at every level seem to forget that the funds in that budget came straight and directly from the labors of another. The government has no money but that they have taken in taxes. It is not their money. It is my money and your money (and our great great grandchildren’s money). 

I don’t understand how you get a tax “refund” when you don’t pay taxes.

I do not understand how one person should pay a higher percentage of his income in taxes than another. 10, 20, or 25% is the same tax burden no matter if your income is $25,000 or $250,000. I also believe every one should pay taxes. We all need a little skin in the game. 

I don’t understand why it is an issue to show ID to vote. You have to show one to get unemployment, other benefits, or even get a COVID shot.

I do not believe it is the role of the government to compel us to buy anything, be it an insurance policy or an electric car. That does not mean I am against safety standards or clean air or water. But yes, I have issues with seat belt laws (I never start my car without mine on) or CAFE standards. If I want to buy a car that gets five miles to a gallon, it is my money to waste on gas. 

I believe we should judge a person on the content of his character, not the color of his skin. Period. That works both ways. There is no reason to have hate crime laws. A crime is a crime. Intent is not relevant.

Everyone should have equal opportunity. That doesn’t mean equal results. Some people are smarter than others. Some are better athletes. We all can’t be winners, be it the soccer field, or in life. 

No one is guaranteed a right not to be offended. If people say or do stuff I find offensive I remove them from my life. Sometimes a joke is a joke. If you don’t find it funny, move on.

I believe the market will solve most problems. The law of supply and demand is immutable. To reference a post from a few days ago, if there is a demand for electric cars, the market will provide those vehicles. Not the government. 

If these ideas make me a knuckle dragging Neanderthal, so be it.

I write this knowing these positions will be evidence at my coming show trial.

Edit: Every day I read Rotten Chestnuts and think that is exactly what I wish my blog was like. The linked post is even tangentially related to this mediocre post.

Lord Knows, I Can’t Change

 It looks to be a nice day. I won’t know, I have to work. But you didn’t come here for a weather report. I suspect you are here for the music.*

Here you go, today’s entries for Southern rock weekend:

And I think we have to go with the king daddy from Skynyrd:

That’s not my favorite from the band, but you can’t deny greatness.

Maybe it is not a funny story., but back when I made mixed tapes (who didn’t if you are of a certain age), I always cut the first line from Free Bird from the live album and inserted it about midway through the mix tape. You know, where Ronnie asks “What song do you wanna hear?”. I always found it amusing.

*that is why you stopped by, right? 

Partying with Peppa Pig

We stepped into the dollar store after supper to grab a few things. I get lunch snacks there, spice drops (my newest addiction), and a new ball for the littlest grandgirl. I. Willing to spend a buck for many things I wouldn’t otherwise buy. One thing I don’t think I would buy at the dollar store is pregnancy tests. Yes, they had pregnancy tests. Like most stuff there it probably came from China.  A country that breeds like rabbits is not my source for discovering if my girl is about to be my baby momma. Of course those kind of worries are decades in my past. 

Today we celebrate the youngest granddaughter’s birthday. Her actual birthday is the 4th, but family and friends will be partying like two year olds today. What can be bad about bounce houses and birthday cake?

Oh, despair not, it is still southern rock weekend here.

Have a great Saturday.