I give it a three, it is hard to dance to

So, it is with excitement and trepidation I present:

You can buy it here in paperback or Kindle. I priced it as low as possible. 

Look, I have no illusions. But if you do bother to read it, give me five stars. Then give an honest review. Amazon only cares about the stars. Me too. *

It is done, one item on the bucket list complete, even if it only proves that a person can read ten thousand books and completely lack the skill and ability to write one good one.

So it goes.

*I do care about the actual review. I really don’t want it to suck.

Bitten by Bidenomics

Yikes! Have you priced groceries lately? Wow, one or two little plastic bags runs $20. I often buy the generic brand of whole peeled tomatoes to make salsa. Not so long ago they cost about $0.90. A few weeks ago they were $1.19. Yesterday, they were $1.40! That is for Great Value brand. The good stuff was pushing $2. 

I won’t even discuss the rape at the gas pump. Of course the dementia in-chief just closed off more land to drill for oil., so I am not surprised. The laws of supply and demand work even when would-be commies are in charge. 

Biden is so clueless he is pushing for a UAW 40% raise. He even pretended to walk the picket line for a photo op.* Yes, I know it is so he can get the union vote. But that kind of increase will not lower the CEO pay. It will not come out of auto company profits. It will mean more expensive cars, feeding inflation more. 

And by the way, one of the concerns of the UAW is that EVs take fewer workers to assemble a vehicle so Biden’s policies are hurting who— bing, bing, bing — the Union!

But hey, no one is posting mean tweets. 

*He spent 12 whole minutes walking the picket line

Oh, and again, none of his massive motorcade has the EV he demands we all drive, then he jumps on his jet to fly off to the west coast for a fundraiser. But no worries, climate change is for the little people, we know that.

Without commentary

 

cigars were smoked and beer was consumed on Saturday

It was a good weekend. No, I did not get the lawn cut. No yard work was completed. The house went uncleaned. I did not shampoo the living room carpet. Nor did I paint the walls in the family room and kitchen. These are all projects we pondered for the weekend. Instead, went to hang out with friends on Saturday. This is likely one of the last weekends this year we will get to enjoy their pool. On Sunday the wife and I went up to Atlanta (IN) for a big festival. We walked around. She looked at stuff, I listened to music in my ear buds and watched people. After we came home the wife went shopping while I plopped on he couch and watched a recording of the Colts game. Colts won. Cubs won. It was a good day all around. 

I hope you had a great weekend too. 

On a completely unrelated note, here is a cell phone picture of a landmark from my hometown. Not the tent, the big castle-like building in the distance:

This was a school. It closed one year before I could go there.

If you have ever read the oft-posted account of my first date with my now-wife, that dance was held upstairs in that building.

I have no reason to believe you care about this at all. I haven’t even lived in that town for 35 years.

what Ned Stark said

The trees in the neighborhood were sitting Friday afternoon wrapping up the week. They looked at the day planner and gave a startled exclamation. “Oh, crap!” They said. “It is fall.”

So today, I notice the leaves are starting to turn to yellow and russet and orange hues. The nights are decidedly cool and the days are pleasantly warm. Yes, friends, fall is upon us. 

We may or may not be okay with that notion. Me, I do not mind. I’m a four seasons kind of guy. But consider this. It is about ninety days until Christmas.

Here is some music to cheer you up:

Spiders

A husband and wife are sitting on the couch watching TV.

The wife looks at the husband and he is staring at the ceiling above her head, she looks up and asks,

“What are you staring at?”

“A spider,” he replies.

“I don’t see anything,” she says.

“Oh, it must have fallen on your head,” he said calmly.

The wife jumps up screaming…

The man says,

“While you’re up, can you get me another beer?”

Middle School Blues

I had a morning appointment yesterday to get the oil changed in the company car. As I headed through the neighborhood, the kids of middle-school age were gathered on the corner waiting on the bus. They were typical almost teens, standing nonchalantly, book bags slung on their backs. 

Except one boy. He was standing off to the side, head hanging. He looked like climbing on the bus was the last thing he wanted to do. I could guess, maybe his homework was unfinished, eaten by the dog, as it  were. Perhaps he was tired. Maybe he was the frequent target of bullies. Perchance he failed to study for that history test in first period. I doubt it was any of those scenarios that brought on the air of depression to this young student on the bare edge of young adulthood. 

I’m certain the fact he was waiting at the bus stop with his mother had everything to do with his dejected attitude. 

It is time to let go mom.

If you try sometimes, you get what you need

I could bore you with a weather report that has no bearing unless you reside in central Hoosierdom. I could copy and paste a joke. I might offer select bon mots and pearls of wisdom. I am prepared to launch into a political diatribe filled with invective and reasoned punditry. I should fire up the old laptop and get to work. 

Paycheck wins, your daily entertainment loses.

So it goes here at the old blog. 

Okay, okay, I had spaghetti for dinner, then we went to Target...zzzzzzzzz. 

Yes, my life is that boring.

My wife tells me this frequently.

Just Like Tommy

For the first time since July 2, the vision in my left eye is completely unobstructed. No blood hemorrhages in my retina and the air bubble inserted by the surgeon two weeks ago was finally dissipated when I woke up this morning. That means I no longer have an internal level in my eye, but...good, it was annoying. 

Who knew I cock my head to the left when I am thinking? Probably everyone who knows me, but that is  not relevant. I can see, I can read. No more walking around like Popeye, one eye closed as I navigate the stairs. That, my friends, is worth a prayer of thanksgiving. 

History

 Stolen fromNonOriginalRants

Football doesn’t build character, it reveals character

For the first time since big hair and shoulder pads were the fashion, I attended a college football game yesterday.  The Wabash College Little Giants took on the Butler Bulldogs at Butler University. It was a family affair. My daughter and son-in-law both graduated from Butler University. 

The daughter, SIL, both granddaughters, and my wife wore Bulldog T-shirts, I pulled on my scarlet Wabash shirt and off we went. Wabash lost to  the much bigger school, but it was still a great time. The small college atmosphere is still terrific for watching football. 

I just have one burning question. When did college kids get so young? They were all just kids. 

Wabash just before a touchdown pass

Runs the all-time loser

I have to be honest, I’d like a pension, a thirty percent raise, automatic cost of living raises, and to get paid for forty hours while working thirty. I bet you would too. You would also say I’m unrealistic, unless you are a UAW worker who is already making $75K working the assembly line. The union thinks these demands are perfectly fine. 

So we will see what happens as the UAW strikes the Big Three and if cars and trucks are not available, then consumers will buy from foreign automakers who have stock. In the meantime, for every striking autoworker, six other jobs are effected.  Most of those workers are making nowhere near $75K. 

If the Union is do concerned about the long-term effects of EVs on the number of workers (an electric vehicle has far fewer components and needs fewer workers to assemble), then maybe the UAW should re-think their lockstep Democrat Party allegiances. It is the Democrats mostly pushing this WeAreAllGonnaDieClimateChange crap.

Have a great Saturday. Here is some music for your enjoyment.

In search of civility

The wife was driving the granddaughters home yesterday and stopped at a traffic light to make a left turn. The oldest looked at the car beside her window and read the bumper sticker. 

“Fuck Biden,” she asked. “What does that mean?”

You may or may not agree with the sentiment, but it is not necessary to broadcast the vulgarity where parents are put into a position to have to explain those words to little kids. 

I’m no prude. I’ve used the old eff word more times than I can count. You have read it here many times. It was right there in the joke I posted Wednesday. I do maintain there is a time and a place. It doesn’t need to be on your T-shirt. It does not need to be on your bumper. And it doesn’t need to be dropped in routine conversation when small children are present.

Your mileage may vary.

You are probably wrong.

Work Ethic

Here’s a heartwarming story about the bond formed between a little girl and some construction workers.

This will make you believe that we CAN make a difference when we give a child the gift of your time…

A young family moved into a house next door to a vacant lot.

One day, a construction crew came in and began building a house on the empty lot.

The family’s 5-year-old daughter became interested in all the activity going on next door and spent much of each day observing the workers.

Eventually, the construction crew, all of them gems-in-the-rough, more or less adopted her as a project mascot.

They chatted with her, let her sit with them while they took coffee and lunch breaks, and gave her little jobs to do here and there to make her feel important.

At the end of the first week, the men presented her with a pay envelope which contained 2.00.

The little girl took this home to her mother, who said all the appropriate words of admiration, and suggested that they take the money she received to the bank to start a savings account.

When they talked to the bank teller, she was equally impressed and” asked the little girl how she had earned her very own pay check at such a young age.

The child proudly replied: “I worked last week with the crew building the house next door to us.”

“My goodness gracious,” said the teller, “and will you be working on the house again this week, too?”

The little girl replied, “I will if those assholes at Home Depot ever deliver the fuckin sheet rock…”

Up, Up, and Away

Sunday morning I was watching some worthless crap on TV when I heard a roar and wish outside. It seems the balloon event over at Conner Prairie was kicking off and the balloons were launching from the school behind my house. Here is one flying right over my patio. 

Never forget

 I hope you do not need me to remind you.

Looking under water

It is time for some football! It is a great time of year, the NFL kicks off, baseball is in the homestretch. The heatwave has broken. 

I have plenty to be thankful for this week. My great HVAC man was able to get my AC up and running with a small - a few hundred- cost as opposed to buying a new unit. He is an honest soul. 

On Thursday I had my eye operated on. The doc says it went well. He opened it up, cleaned out the blood, scrapped away some scar tissue, and lasered the bleeders. He is holding it all back in place with an air bubble. For now, I can’t see out of that eye at all, but it will gradually clear up in a week or so. The biggest pain is having to sleep on my side with a plastic guard taped to my face lest I rub the peeper in my sleep. 

No, the biggest pain is no vision on the left side. As a semi-paranoid, it is disconcerting to not know if someone is sneaking up on me. Are they out to get you? Then don’t judge. 

Anyway, I’m doing fine. Have a great Sunday. 

Things that go bump in the night

A little boy wakes up three nights in a row when he hears a thumping sound coming from his parents’ room.

Finally one morning he goes to his mom and says, “Mommy, every night I hear you and daddy making noises and when I look in your bedroom you’re bouncing up and down on him.”

His mom is taken by surprise and says, “Oh, well I’m bouncing on his stomach because he’s fat and that makes him thin again.” And the boy says, “Well, that won’t work!”

His mom says, “Why?!?”

The boy replies, “Because the lady next door comes by after you leave each day and blows him back up!”

Like freshly canned peaches

I am off today to have my left eyeball sliced open yet again. The blood from the torn vessel on July 2 is still blurring my vision. I have never before looked forward to a procedure in my life. Ha! He said “looked.” 

I hope by early next week to have my normal shitty vision returned.

Counting the two cornea transplants (one failed), this will be the third time my left eye has been operated on. Do I count the insertion of the plastic lens for cataracts when the transplant was done? In addition, I have had at least four laser procedures done on that eye to cauterize tiny bleeders. Oh, left eye, you are a pain! 

Right eye = one transplants and a couple of lasers, one to rid scar tissue from the transplant. What a good eye!

I have some audio books and podcasts ready to go, besides, I will still have the use of the right eye. 

Anyway, this is a canned post. I’ll be under the knife by the time you read this. Assume everything went fine. 

I have a not-so-fresh entry penned for Friday already. We shall see where I am on Saturday. Don’t worry if I don’t put up anything, unless I fail to post for a week or so. Then you can assume the worst. So it goes. 

I have no intention of letting the crappy joke canned for tomorrow be my last blogging words. It would be fitting, but a pity.

We need a Rush

My City Was Gone by the Pretenders came on the radio. Like millions, as soon as I heard the opening riff my mind went straight to Rush Limbaugh. Some days I miss the radio host’s bombastic analysis. We need a unifying voice for conservative  politics these days.

In fairness, I miss the Rush from the early years, not what he became in the end. I did not listen to Rush much in the last years. 

I do remember the early days. I had started a new job. I was living in a hotel while my family prepared to move. I knew no one, so I grabbed fast food and drove to the park to eat my lunch and listened to the AM radio in my old ‘66 Chevy truck. And then that opening riff started and there was a guy who articulated exactly what I thought. It was great.

I think it is fair to say much of the polarization of today’s politics lie with the success of his show. As Rush pointed out the total bias and hypocrisy of the mainstream media, they dug in and tried to put up a unified front to counterbalance Limbaugh’s immense popularity. 

We need someone to be that guy today. 

It is getting hot in here

It was a great holiday weekend until it wasn’t. We hit a music festival on Saturday, watched the Cubs on Sunday, and the air conditioner quit yesterday. I will call the HVAC guy this morning. I hope it is a part. Not the whole unit. So it goes. 

Poof! It was gone

We were driving back from Cincinnati last evening after watching the Cubs emerge victorious over the Reds when a good post for today came to mind. 

Then I slept and now I have nuthin’. 

Have a great Holiday Monday.

 RIP Jimmy

One of my favorites 

Party On

I hope you have some fun scheduled for the holiday weekend. It appears we will have terrific weather here in god’s favorite State. For those who care, college football kicks off this weekend. I am more interested in the NFL games next week. It is okay, we don’t have to like the same stuff. 

The wife and I are meeting up with some friends to go to a music festival today. It looks like it will be a bit warm for the afternoon and evening part, but it beats overcast and cold. Old Henry Lee is the headliner. We have seen him dozens of times. There is no better entertainer in rock and roll; and that includes Springsteen.

I look forward to a great Saturday. I hope you have one too.

Some great shots of Broadripple back in the eighties in that video.

Apparently Jimmy Buffet has died. That dude entertained me too. RIP

Willy Won’t Go

You know what’s coming. Maybe you will surprised. Maybe you will say “it’s been a long time since I heard that”. Perhaps you will say “WTH is that?”. I don’t know.

I do know it is Friday and this work day cannot get over fast enough. We have a busy weekend in front of us. We are going to a concert Saturday. We are going to see the Cubs/Reds game Sunday. 

In the meantime, I have to say I never particularly liked nor disliked this tune:

You will be glad you read this one

It is a chilly 50F this morning as I hunt and peck letters and words. Today will see a high in the upper seventies before a slow warm up to hot temperatures again next week. 

I am literally counting the days to the long holiday weekend. One, Two. See? Literally. I am ready. 

I still have a bunch of vacation to use before year end. Too bad I don’t have the money to go anywhere. So it goes.

I have a 9:00 AM meeting, I better start preparing. Have a great Thursday.

Get the cops involved

A police car pulled up in front of grandma Bessie’s house, and grandpa got out.

The polite policeman explained that the elderly gentleman said that he was lost in the park and couldn’t find his way home.

“Morris,” said grandma,

“you’ve been going to that park for over 30 years, how come you get lost today?”

Leaning close to grandma, so that the policeman couldn’t hear, grandpa whispered,

“I wasn’t lost. I was just too tired to walk home.”

OMG Panic

I’m a little concerned it will be hot next Wednesday here in the ‘burbs.

Of course it will not be 108. That is nonsense.

If we are at an environmental crossroads, why is no car in the Presidential motorcade an EV?

Monday. In my brain I hear that with a big TV announcer voice and a touch of echo. I have no idea what “Monday ” should get a momentous announcement. It is another workday after a good weekend. 

On Saturday we hung out with some friends. Yesterday I cut the grass, then did pretty much nothing. It was a pretty relaxing couple of days, as it should be. For the voyeur among you, there was no nookie involved so the weekend was not a total victory. So it goes.

Now it is time hook back up to the millstone and grind away. At least the weather will be less hot and humid. And there will be no music videos at the end of the post. We all win!

Dear Mr. Fantasy

I often post a music selection on Saturday simply from laziness. Since I have posted a video every day this week I shall refrain. Or not. We shall see where the muse takes us this morning. 

You do not think there is a plan when I sit in front of the cursor? Ha! You might (or might not) be surprised to find this garbage is pure extemporaneous prose 99% of the time. You get whatever from the top of my head. I have never promised quality. 

I could not do improv, I’m not funny, but I could enter some mythical contest where someone says here is a topic—talk. Would I ramble? Sure. Would I get off topic? Of course. Would I be entertaining? Doubtful. Could I fill up my allotted time with words? You betcha. 

This post is proof. When I was waiting on the Keurig I thought I might tell you of the time I nearly was included on a patent application. It was my one shot at immortality.  But I left the company and poof! It was gone. 

Now evidence of my brilliance lies in this collection of half-baked nonsense. Let’s be honest, this old blog will not survive a millennia as proof of early 21st century thought. I am no modern Tacitus, Catullus, nor Cicero. 

I take great comfort in the knowledge twelve of you stop by on a semi-regular basis and read my nonsense and say “huh?”. 

And yes. Despite claiming otherwise, here is what is bouncing around in my otherwise empty skull this morning. You can never go wrong with Traffic. Have a great Saturday.

Burns the tar on the roof

It is Friday, finally. I must confess I have worked hard this week. There was significant number crunching and presentation preparing all week. Based on my overnight email total I imagine more is in store today. 

It has been warm this week. These things happen in August. When the talking heads say the temperature may reach record levels, that implies it has been this hot previously. The record was never yesterday or last year or last month. It is from around a hundred years ago. So I am not convinced this hot spell has anything at all to do with my refusal to drive a battery car or put up a windmill. Besides, weather records in this part of the country only date back to the 1880s, so how do we know it is the “hottest day ever”? You can believe what you want, just don’t force me to participate. 

Anyway we will round out the summer music with an all-time classic. Does anything evoke summer better?

Gimme More

 

Hot night

I have my monthly on-line sales meeting this morning so blogging takes a back seat. So it goes. 

I do have time for more summertime heat wave themed music. That’s what you want anyway. I said so.

Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty

It is still hot at my house, yours too. I don’t care. I work inside at a desk in an air conditioned room. It sucks for those who toil in factories and outside jobs though. I’ve done that too, in fact not so very long ago. So, I’m thankful for my current gig. 

Look, I think most of us have been fake internet friends long enough I can honestly tell you I’m just not up to blogging today. I did not sleep well and I have a headache. How about I post some music and call it a day. Is that copacetic?

Heat Wave

Let’s get this out of the way. It is hot. It will be all week. It probably will be at your house too. It is August, not global warming we are all gonna die climate change..

Sheesh, we got whacked with a full dose of Bidenomics this weekend. First both cars needed gas at almost four bucks a gallon, then we went to the grocery. Food prices are crazy. 

A csn of store brand whole peeled tomatoes used to be around 80 cents. Yesterday, it was $1.20. Of course when the government touts inflation numbers they don’t tell you fuel and groceries are excluded. Lying bastards.

Oh well have s great Monday and keep cool.

Gonna Swallow My Tears

 I guess I’m in an eighties mood these days

7700

This will be my 7,700th published post. That is a lot of words, jokes, and nonsense. I never said it was quality. I have written over 7800 posts, not everything is published. 7806 does have that nice even ring. We will stick to 7700.

A huge thanks to everyone who has ever bothered to stop by and read, comment, or just scoff and move on. 

We shall celebrate with a music selection. I wish I could claim this tune is meaningful in some way. That it reflects the occasion, that it represents the blog in some fashion. It doesn’t. I decided I was going to put up this song several days ago and it was only when I started the post that I discovered it was post 7700. Sometimes, Dr. Freud, a cigar is just a cigar.

Starts out weak and never recovers

I swear my neighbor’s air conditioner is powered by the jet engine from an old F-14 Tomcat. It roars when it runs.  I’m not sure why you would care about that, I don’t really, it was more a comment than anything. At least I didn’t start the post with a weather report. So take that. 

The Cubs had a nice cone from behind victory last night over the evil White Sox. I think we might try and catch one of the games in the Reds-Cubs series in Cincinnati over Labor Day weekend in a few weeks. It is a great place to watch baseball and much cheaper than trying to get tix for Wrigley. If we go, I’ll be the one in Cubs gear. 

We will probably go Sunday. We have plans to go to a concert with friends on Saturday. Yes, old people do still like to rock. There is a double header on Friday we were looking at, but since my daughter or SIL are going to have to take off the following Thursday while the wife takes me to the hospital, I don’t want to have them use up vacation to watch the girls while we go to a baseball game. 

Labor Day week will be short. Monday is a holiday. I will work Tuesday and Wednesday. On Thursday I get my left eye cut open and Friday to recover. Yeah, probably Saturday and Sunday too. Hopefully, I’ll be back at work by Monday. Fingers crossed!

In other news, it is my hope to have my stupid book done and published by Labor Day. I’m doing final edits now. Or not, we shall see. I will say this, the effort proves that reading ten thousand books does not mean I can write one. But so it goes. 

Everybody Get Footloose

I think it is no secret to anyone who has read here for any length of time I am pretty conservative. That said, some things go too far.

Lately, the local library has found itself involved in some bad publicity and I am not talking just local, but on the national stage. The zealots on the library board passed a resolution that no book that contains violence, sex, curse words, or racism could be housed in the Young Adult section.  Currently the library has spent hundreds of hours in overtime and removed thousands of books from the teen section. Of course, there has been malicious compliance. But the library staff is following the letter of the law, so to speak. I am not sure I blame them. I would not want to get fired because I missed the word "damn" in The Outsiders.

Here is the thing, the whole exercise is ridiculous. Little Jennifer is not going to get the vapors if she accidentally reads about sex, or a curse word. That wasn't true in 1923 and is not true today. Overwrought Karens at the library board need not be concerned little Johnny is going to read a book about teenagers with terminal cancer having intercourse and becoming a raging ball of hormones who only thinks about sex every thirteen seconds.  He already is. 

I grew up in the sixties and seventies, arguably a time far less enlightened than today. Besides, we are talking teens here. By the time I was thirteen I doubt there was a curse word I had not heard and probably said, even if I did not hear it at home.  I also had a pretty good idea what was what when it came to S-E-X. Your milage may vary, but I am willing to bet the same was true for you. Today, any kid with a smart phone or computer can merely type the word Dicks and forget to add the "Sporting Goods" part or enter another word for cat and find more pictures than they can look at in a day on Google. Accessing any number of porn sites is as easy. Sure, I swear I am 18...

Here is a little-known fact. The librarian does not sit and read every book that comes into the library and determine where it should be shelved. The author, the publisher, and the Library of Congress provide that information.  The cataloger has the info on a computer and the designated category is provided based on the ISBN. Non-fiction is assigned a Dewey Decimal number, Fiction a category.  Young Adult books come already classified. 

Determining what your kids read and watch is the role of the parent, not some public or semi-public official. Those who propose they should expose your six-year-old to sex and gender are just as evil as those who would determine what your teen should not read. It is hard enough to get kids to pick up a book, why make it more difficult?

Reactionary nuts wanted to ban dancing and burn books in the eighties classic Footloose. I thought we had moved beyond that kind of nonsense here in the suburbs long, long ago. 

All about nothin’

Rain is pounding the front windows and overflowing the gutters this morning. It is a good thing I cut the lawn yesterday. 

We had a quiet weekend, not doing much of note. We ventured out for some Mexican Saturday evening. 

I threw some chicken breasts on he grill last evening and brushed them near the end with some BBQ sauce. I had put on a nice rub prior to grilling. I grilled up some corn on the cob in the husk snd made a pan of mac and cheese. I sliced up a couple of fresh garden tomatoes to round out our Sunday feast. 

In all it was a good, albeit uneventful, weekend. 

I'm your knight in shining armor

 How about a classic from the Chicken Man?

Saturday Cartoons

 

Insane Judge

The DC judge in charge of the special prosecutor has ruled that Trump is a flight risk. That is insane. He is a former president and perhaps one of the most recognizable people in the world. He is surrounded 24/7 by Secret Service agents. He is running for president. Where would he go?

Perhaps, on second thoughts, he could jet off to Epstein Island. The government can’t seem to find anyone who went there. 

Off to see the wizard

You may remember back at the onset of July I had a bleeder issue in my eye that necessitated a needle in the eyeball. No? You can look it up, I’m too lazy. 

Things are not better. It is like I am looking through a brown veil in my left eye. I’m off this morning to get some laser cauterizing done on my retina. Whoot. 

The ones before were small affairs. I think this one is gonna suck. 

I’ve been wrong before*. Perhaps I am this time.

What a world we live in where people have the skill for such delicate surgery. 

*Do not tell my wife I admitted ever being wrong. 

Edit:  no laser today.  Gonna need surgery. 😟

Hey Grandpa…

Last night I dug out the mandolin slicer and cut up a few spuds. I sprayed some foil with cooking spray snd layered the foil with sliced potatoes, cubes of Colby cheese, onion, and more potatoes. Some salt and red pepper flakes provided seasoning. I wrapped up the foil pack and tossed it on the grill for about an hour. 

Since I had the slicer out I cut up a little cucumber and put it in a bowl with onion, vinegar, salt and ice water. I sliced up a couple of fresh garden tomatoes on the cutting board. 

When the potatoes were almost done I threw some hamburger patties on the grill and heated a can of baked beans. 

We had a supper fit for a king last night. 

The depth of the White River at Noontime

It is Monday. The weekend is past. I wish I had tales of fun and adventure to relate. I wish I had a list of my many activities to make you envious. I don’t. In fact, I’m not sure what we did to occupy the time. There was certainly no sex, drugs, or rock & roll. 

I guess I mowed the lawn Saturday morning. There was that. I helped clean house a little on Sunday. 

I know; yawn. Indeed, it was that kind of weekend. 

I hope yours was more exciting. 

Too bad, so sad

I got a text inviting me to a barbecue today.  Sounds great. I love a barbecue. 

Too bad I don’t know the person who texted me and it appears they are in Nevada so I guess I’m out of luck. 

Okey Dokey

Another Eighties Saturday, you say?

Sure, why not?

Slouching Towards Banana Republic

I had a big rant in my head, ready to type up about the Biden corruption and the crickets from the so-called press, but why bother?

It looks to be a fine hot summer day. I have a conference call this morning and tons of emails to sort through. Blah, blah. You don’t care about that minutiae any more than politics. 

I know what you came for today. It is Friday.

He Has Spoken

 For the love of all that is good and right, just stop walking around talking on speaker phone. No one wants or needs to hear your conversation. 

Most ridiculous are the jerks who have the phone on speaker then hold the little speakers up to their ear to hear better. WTH?

The rude obnoxious cousin is the buttwipe who insists on watching videos on speaker in public.

Just stop.

Hot Days Cool Nights

This is certainly the first live band I ever saw. Of course the seventies were a different time; there was a live band at every bar and at most school dances. DJs were confined to discos, and there weren’t any of those in my little hick town. 

Anyway this is a good song and adequately describes the current weather pattern.

You will always have Tara

I love history (especially the Civil War), literature, and old movies. It may come as a surprise that I watched Gone With the Wind for the first time ever yesterday. I know that sounds crazy. I may be one of the last people of the Boomer age to say that. 

GWTW remains, if adjusted for inflation, the best selling movie ever. The original novel remains one of the best selling English language novels ever. I will confess I also have not read the book. 

I will say that the character of Scarlet could just be the biggest bitch ever in film. Rhett gave a damn far too long. 

I got the requisite lecture on racism before the film aired on TCM (on the Max streaming service). In this case there is a significant amount of racism in the film, but to portray that society in that time any differently would be wrong. 

I will say, tongue in cheek, Prissy deserved to get slapped for her voice alone. 

I’m surprised it isn’t a cheese jingle

How. about some eighties today?

Enjoy your Sunday 

I call her on the telephone, she says be there by eight

I fried up some breaded pork tenderloin  — a Hoosier staple — for supper last night. I also baked up some homemade mac & cheese. I don’t enjoy my own cooking much, but it was a pretty good meal on a hot Thursday evening. I would show you but blogger won’t cooperate. After dinner I settled on the couch and watched the Cubs trounce the Cardinals. Ho hum, ho hum.

It is Friday, I have a regularly scheduled conference call this morning with big customer number two. 

I’m not sure what the wife has planned for the weekend. I have some yard work need to do. 

How about we wrap this up with a little music? Have a great Friday.

Just a thought

Maybe the USWNT should focus a little more on soccer and a little less on politics…

An Open Scandal

Wikipedia 

 Artist George Romney’s favorite model was Emma Hart (née Amy Lyon). She started posing as a teen and was a sensation. Emma was a known mistress and consort for the rich and famous of British society until at aged 26 when she married Sir William Hamilton, British envoy to the Kingdom of Naples. 

In Naples Emma became a friend and confidant of the Queen, the sister of Marie Antoinette. She also met there the love of her life, Lord Horatio Nelson, who would become Britain’s greatest naval hero. 

Nelson and Lady Hamilton carried on an open affair, eventually moving into a London house together and having a child out of wedlock. 

After Nelson’s death at Trafalgar in 1805 Lady Hamilton was left poor and destitute. Without the status of her husband (he died in 1804 and left her very little in his will) and Nelson’s heirs ignored her. Lady Hamilton fell to heavy drinking and died penniless in Calais, France in 1815.

There is no doubt she was a ravishing beauty in her prime.  Lady Hamilton was portrayed by Vivian Leigh in the 1941 film That Hamilton Woman. 

sheep

It sure seems the Democrats in charge are determined to make USA a Third World Country. The California climate czar opined last week that it may be necessary for Californians to just accept that blackouts are a way of life if that meant implementing renewable energy sources. Ponder that. 

At the same time, experts are warning we do not have enough power in the grid, yet leftists are insisting we move to outlaw everything from gas stoves to pizza ovens. More demand equals less electricity. Just wait until we are forced into driving electric cars that all need charged. 

Now the Biden Administration is proposing new rules that will limit gas generators. No generator on the market currently will meet the stringent new emissions standards. 

The greenies are going to force us into rolling blackouts, then prevent you from providing your own power. 

I suspect that the politicians will keep their own power on. That’s the way it works with those f-ing  Commies. 

This is what you voted for. But hey, there are no more mean tweets. 

The Garbage Man Cometh

It is trash day and I can hear the hydraulic whine and diesel roar of the approaching truck. I have two bins curbside this morning, one with garbage, one with yard waste, primarily large cut up branches from the big willow in the backyard. Some are three or four inches in diameter that I cut into lengths to fit in the bin. 

I have no idea why you would care about any of this. 

What is in a name?

It is time for another pathetic post at this one minute time waster. I will forego the normal opening weather report. Unless you live here in Central Nativeamericanstan you will not care. If you do live here, you already know the forecast. 

Speaking of the Hoosier state, why are we allowing it to be called an offensive name? While we are busy changing the name of anything remotely offensive to anyone, why isn’t there a hue and cry to change the name of Indiana? It means land of Indians. While there is a significant number of residents from the Subcontinent in the state, I think the nomenclature stems from the aboriginal denizens. Something must be done. 

To more properly honor the Native Americans we should rename the state after one of the local tribes. It seems “Delaware” is taken. “Miami” would draw confusion with the city in Florida. “Kickapoo” is out, that name would generate too many juvenile jokes. We could call the area Shawnee, but in today’s environment, only those who used to be slaves are allowed to be honored. 

We could name the state “Walker” after CJ Walker, one of the first black female millionaires. We could call the State “Leviana” after Levi Coffin, one of the great conductors on the Underground Railroad, only he was a white guy. How about “Bird”, after one of the greatest basketball players ever? Never mind, Larry was as pale-skinned as Snow White. Well, the cartoon version of Snow White anyway. 

what he said

Dang

Since I was a young boy I have loved Jujubes candy. I dig me some Red Vines. I will always eat a box of Dots, but the tiny little Jujube was always my favorite. 

Even as an adult, my mom would buy me a box or two whenever she found some. She liked them too. In fact, besides cinnamon or gummy bears, Jujubes is the only candy I remember seeing my mom eat. 

I remember a time I met an engineer for a customer visit and he spied that bright green box of Jujubes in my car. “What are you, eight?” He asked. I laughed unapologetically. I like what I like. 

I have been unable in recent months to find Jujubes at my usual sources like Walmart or CVS. I figured it was a function of post pandemic shortage.

On July 4th we were visiting friends in my hometown and stopped by the little grocery there to pick up some diet grape Faygo*. There, in a bin, were a few boxes of Jujubes. My wife scooped three of them up. I protested, but she said I could ration them slowly to maintain my blood sugar. She knows how I love my Jujubes.

A little research explains why I have been unable to find Jujubes in my area. It seems they have been discontinued by the manufacturer. 

I wish I had rationed out my boxes a little more. 

* another brand getting more difficult to find. 

Hey grandpa, what’s for dinner?

 Last night’s supper: fried chicken, mashed spuds, gravy, fresh ‘maters from daughter’s garden, green bean casserole. 

I slapped some gravy all over that chicken breast after I took the picture. 

I’m not the world’s best cook, but I have my fried chicken and homemade gravy techniques down. Of course, neither is too hard to make. For the mashed potatoes, it is all about the butter, baby.

Live and Learn

I usually get my coffee pods from Walmart. The store brands are cheap and frankly, I like them. Sure, I like Maxwell House, but not twice as much which is pretty close to the price difference. 

A few weeks ago we were at the store and one of the big name brands, Folgers, was on sale. It was cheaper than the Walmart brand, or close anyway. I bought a box. Now I remember I don’t like Folgers. It is a matter of taste. Now I have about a month of crappy (to me) coffee to drink. 

When Gummy Grizzly Bears Attack

Wind and rain and a hail all swept down on the homestead yesterday evening around dinner time. It was a fast moving front and was gone in an hour or two, leaving behind cooler air and high humidity. I suspect you had weather at your house too. None of this is interesting. 

I do find it interesting that my readership has returned to normal levels with the turning of the calendar page to July. For the month of June my daily hits were anywhere from five to ten times normal. Instead of 15 hits on a good day, I was getting 150, give or take a zero or two as it suits the narrative. This trend continued throughout the month. There was no increase in comments, each individual post got the same average visits, but the blog hits each day were astronomical, at least for for me. It was probably average for you. I assume the bots were looking for something, the blogger algorithms were wracked, or some combinations of both. I don’t care, I am happy when anyone stops by, real or robot. The old ego likes getting fed. 

How about I exercise a bit of prose that popped into my head Friday while driving down the highway. It is always good to trot words and phrases around the arena before taking them off the leash. 

Iceberg clouds drifted haphazardly across an Arctic blue sky.

Yeah, I don’t know what it means either, but I like how it sounds. 

Kids and their cars

When I was a young man muscle cars were the rage. Nowadays, inspired by the nearly countless iterations of the Fast and Furious movie franchise, it is hot little Japanese branded cars the youth like to modify and race. 

Last evening I saw a perfect example. I was driving in the northern ‘burbs so I could not snap a picture. There was the little black Toyota, an aftermarket spoiler on the trunk, white flames painted on the quarter panel behind the front wheels, loud stereo thump, thump, thumping with amplified base. 

It was a Prius. 

Yes, all 98 horsepower inspiring fear and awe in the street racing community. 

The sad thing, as I thought about it later, was this optimistic young Paul Walker wannabe couldn’t even sit at a stoplight and race his engine — you know; batteries. 

I really, really wish I was making this up for entertainment purposes. 

Look it up yourself

For outright sex appeal and drop-dead beauty you cannot beat late fifties or early sixties vintage Liz Taylor. Check her out in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Cleopatra, or Suddenly, Last Summer. 

Oft-admired Marylin Monroe is a hometown slattern in comparison. 

German Press Agency/Corbis

something to think about

If that mysterious baggie in the White House Situation Room contained anthrax rather than cocaine, do you think the Secret Service would tell us they have no idea how it got there or who brought it? 

Me neither.

Crash Course in High Speed Aviation

I knocked off work a little after five yesterday evening. I moseyed downstairs and was sitting on the couch ignoring the explosion of dolls and doll clothes littering the living room floor that hurricane granddaughters had left in their wake.

Suddenly, I heard a loud thump on the front door. As I walked into the entryway I noticed a large smear of bird poo on the transom window. I opened the door and lying on the porch was a robin. He had bounced a good two feet. He was young, his chest spots just starting to turn orange. Apparently, he had careened head-on right into the window at full speed like an avian James Dean. 

I don’t know if the bird defecated on the window in an aw crap I’m gonna crash moment or if the  impact knocked the shit out of him. In any case there was a lot of goo on the window. 

I left him lying there in the very small chance little Rockin’ Robin was merely stunned. Alas, Robin Redbreast was dead when I went to clean up the stiff after supper. The flies and ants were already at work when I dropped him in a plastic WalMart bag. Nature is relentless. 

i need to cut the grass anyway

I will open by claiming I won’t divulge the contents. There. 

I had the weirdest dreams last night. I usually cannot remember whatever I dream, but these dreams are still fairly clear in my mind this morning. As I said, I’m not going to describe the contents, there is nothing more boring than someone else’s dreams. It was nothing nefarious, nothing pornographic, nothing interesting. Trust me. I only comment because I rarely dream and even more rarely remember the dream at all. 

We are considering a short weekend road trip, the wife doesn’t have the girls Friday and we thought we might do something. It appears most of the drivable part of the country is going to have rain. At least anywhere we might want to go.We thought about getting Cubs tickets, but I’m not going to pay the ridiculous Wrigley gate cost only to watch the infield tarp collect rain water. Add in the cost of a hotel and it seems like a busted weekend. 

We considered the Florida panhandle or Lake Michigan beaches but face the same rain issue. As an added disincentive, we won’t have a ton of extra cash to spend once we get wherever we will not end up going. So I will work Friday and we will spend a boring weekend at home. Where it will rain. I will save precious hotel points and we wont spend money we shouldn’t. A lose/win proposition.

The Truth Hurts

Stolen from here.

 

At the movies

Two older gentlemen, Fred and Sam, went to see a movie.

Merely minutes into the movie, Sam heard Fred rustling around.

It appeared that he was reaching under all of the seats.

“What on earth are you doing, Fred?” asked Sam.

Fred indignantly responded,

“I had a caramel in my mouth and it dropped out. I’m trying to find it!”

Annoyed, Sam told him not to worry about it — they could get him another caramel later since that one was ruined by now.

“But I’ve got to,” said Fred, exasperated.

“My teeth are in it!”

Cathartes aura

When I went to bed last night I had a great idea for today’s post. It was flip and pity and...lost in my dreams. So it goes. Yet again your subscription price was wasted. Perhaps in need to institute a “True Scouts in Action” type feature where loyal readers write in their Hoosierboy-like adventures to fill content. 

Should I be concerned? There is a vulture sitting in my big willow staring at my back door this morning. I first saw him yesterday. I turned the corner out of the cul-de-sac and he was right there in the street eating what was left of what I think was a bunny. The turkey buzzard reluctantly hopped over the curb and out of my way, but gave me a look of disdain as I drove past. Now, he is perched n my backyard and staring at my patio door. Does he know something I don’t? The raven might say “never more”, this guy seems to be telling me “bring it on, meat”. 

I think this is going to be a weird Sunday. 

don’t peek

In a metaphor stolen from some story I read once upon a time, the thunder sounds like god is bowling overhead as rain falls on the parched grass. I do not want rain, but we need it. Last night I decided I would venture to the farmer’s market this morning to find some ‘maters. Not in the pouring rain. 

Last evening I was passing through the channels, looking for something to watch and stumbled upon Jurassic Park; the first one. The movie was somewhere in the middle. The wife looked up from her iPad, watched a little, and said “I can’t believe we let the kids watch this movie”. 

Indeed, when our kids were small, we bought the move as soon as it came out on VHS. They had to be less than 10 when we let them watch it. We absurdly ordered them to “close their eyes” in the scary parts like when the guy gets chomped in the outhouse.  We were terrible parents. 

We drew the line at nudity or drug use in movies. But clearly violence was okay. What were we thinking? 

The curtains flew and then he appeared

I love mid-week holidays, especially when I take Monday off. Here we are Friday already. The weather is fine. I believe the wife is taking the grandgirls swimming today. I will have to work. As far as I know, we have nothing planned for the weekend. 

My new neighbor just started mowing his lawn. It is 7:15 am. He does this nearly every week. Personally, I find this a jerk move. It is far too early to bring that kind of noise. I might be wrong. 

I clearly am struggling for content today. Let’s have some music instead? Have a great day!

My first copy of this album was on 8-track. Later I got the vinyl.

Can’t you see?

I may have mentioned in passing that for the past year or so I have seen a retina specialist about small leaking blood vessels in my retinas. Thanks diabetes! He has lasered those bleeders to cauterize them closed. For the most part, things are under control. In fact, I was to go back in a couple of weeks for a routine checkup. 

Note the “was” in that past sentence. Saturday a couple of small floaters exploded into black lines across the vision in my left eye. These lines were then accompanied by a big black spot in the lower left corner. For comparison, if a floater is a pencil dot, this spot was a Sharpie. By evening my vision was cloudy and brown like mud. 

Since I’m no doctor, despite spending many nights over the years in a Holiday Inn Express, I could not know if my cornea transplant had failed or it was a retina issue. By Sunday my vision in my left eye was like looking through smoke or maybe a spider web. I called my regular eye doctor Monday to have her determine which specialist I needed to see. The verdict was transplants fine (good), but massive hemorrhages in the back of the eye. I could get in to the specialist on Wednesday. You know why the delay — Fireworks Day. 

This post is going on too long. In summation, my vitreous gel separated right where one of those last little bleeders was located, tearing open the blood vessel. The doc took a needle and poked it in my eye to stop the bleeding with magic medicine. My vision should clear in X number of days. Then, after things clear up a bit I go back next month for more fucking laser treatments. 

I ain’t blind. Not yet.

Fortune Teller

In a dark and hazy room, peering into a crystal ball, the Mystic delivered grave news:

“There’s no easy way to tell you this, so I’ll just be blunt. Prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a violent and horrible death this year.”

Visibly shaken, the wife stared at the woman’s lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her hands.

She took a few deep breaths to compose herself – and to stop her mind racing.

She simply had to know.

She met the Fortune Teller’s gaze, steadied her voice and asked:

“Will I be acquitted?”

On this day...kinda

 

Easy Potato Salad

I’m on vacation today. That means from this blog too. Listen to some music instead of reading my nonsense.

Observations on the human condition

Anecdote is not data, I understand. 

The oldest granddaughter (8) participates in a summer swim league. The suburban neighborhood pools compete against each other. Yes, it is a thing. The teams around here are from 4-14 years old. Boys compete against boys, girls against girls in each age class (7/8, 9/10, etc.). The season consists of dual meets, pool team vs. pool team. 

Thursday was the big final meet, all of the teams competed in a big invitational-type tournament. There were hundreds of kids competing in the high school pool. Here is the thing, in every single age class, in every different stroke, the boys’ average times, and especially winning times, was faster than the girls’. I will leave it to you to draw your own conclusions about trans athletes and sports. *

One final observation. The teams are coached by high school kids for the most part. At the end of the tournament there was a coaches’ race. In this one, the race was not segmented by gender nor age. The male coaches won every single race. a couple of the female coaches from granddaughter’s team are varsity swimmers on the Carmel High School girl’s swim team. They lost to the boys as well. 

So what, you say? The Carmel girls swim team is No ordinary program. You read that right, if you clicked the link, thirty-seven straight years. Reagan was President the last time someone else won. Ponder that. They still lost to the teenaged boys. 

Tell me again that gender is a construct. 

*yes, some of the girls beat some of the boys’ times that is not what I wrote.

The Answer is Blowin’ in the Wind

Thursday evening a storm front raced through bringing 70+ mph winds in straight line fashion. Trash cans blew, shingles flew, and branches and trees fell. Somehow, the dying big willow survived without any large branches falling. It was my maple in the front yard that took a beating. The whole middle section and top broke and crashed down. The mess was too big for me to deal with, so we had to hire a guy to cut down the broken branches and haul away the detritus yesterday.

Those of you incensed over the SCOTUS affirmative action decision should read Justice Thomas’ decision. Those of you pushing the reparations agenda better pay attention, that issue is the flip side of the same coin and will run afoul of the Constitution in the same manner. If you thought the Sons of Liberty were angry over a three cent per pound tax in the Boston Tea Party, wait until you try and force me to pay people who were never slaves my hard earned money when my ancestors did not own slaves and fought to great hazard of their life to end slavery. 

While I am on the Court, the decision on student loans was right also. Sure I would like my parent loans wiped away. I want my kids debts erased. It shouldn’t be at the expense of the rest of America. If the government wants to help borrowers, lower the interest rate, get rid of the capitalization of interest on the government loans. That is what is killing people financially. 

The big neighborhood fireworks shindig is slated for tonight. We will see if the weather cooperates.

Happy Saturday.

God only knows what I'd be without you

 On this date thirty-nine years ago the most beautiful woman in the world decided I was adequate enough to actually marry me. 

I am a lucky man.

Do you remember?

 There were these two elderly people living in a Florida mobile home park.

He was a widower and she was a widow.

They had known one another for a number of years.

Now, one evening there was a community supper in the big activity centre.

These two were at the same table, across from one another.

As the meal went on, he made a few admiring glances at her and finally gathered up his courage to ask her,

“Will you marry me?”

After a dramatic pause and precisely six seconds of ‘careful consideration,’ she answered.

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

The meal ended and with a few more pleasant exchanges and they went to their respective places.

Next morning, he was troubled. “Did she say ‘yes’ or did she say ‘no’?”

He couldn’t remember.

Try as he would, he just could not recall. Not even a faint memory.

With trepidation, he went to the telephone and called her.

First, he explained to her that he didn’t remember as well as he used to.

Then he reviewed the lovely evening past.

As he gained a little more courage, he then inquired of her,

“When I asked if you would marry me, did you say ‘Yes’ or did you say ‘No’?”

He was delighted to hear her say,

“Why, I said, ‘Yes, yes I will’ and I meant it with all my heart.”

Then she continued,

“And I am so glad that you called because I couldn’t remember who had asked me.”

 

Smoke on the water, in the trees, obscuring the sun

From my windshield 

Yesterday was hazy all day as Canadian smoke clouded the atmosphere. Glancing out the office window, today looks to be more of the same. Yet the climateers  are trying to say wood-fired pizza ovens and gas stoves are one of the biggest threats to the environment. Is it a requirement one give up all common sense to join the climate change/global warming/we are all gonna die cult?

 

Day in Court

An atheist became incensed over Christmas holiday preparations.

He filed a lawsuit about the constant celebrations given to Christians and Jews while atheists had no holiday to celebrate.

The case was brought before a judge.

After listening to the long, passionate presentation by the atheist’s lawyer, the judge banged his gavel and declared, “Case dismissed!”

The lawyer immediately stood and objected to the ruling.

“Your honor, how can you possibly dismiss this case? The Christians have Christmas, Easter, and many other observances. Jews have Passover, Yom Kippur, and Hanukkah. Yet, my client and all other atheists have no such holiday!”

The judge leaned forward in his chair and simply said, “Obviously, your client is too confused to know about, much less celebrate his own atheist holiday!”

The lawyer pompously said, “Your honor, we are unaware of any such holiday for atheists. Just when might that holiday be?”

The judge replied, “Well, it comes every year on exactly the same date. Psalm 14:1 states, ‘The fool says in his heart, there is no God.’

Thus, if your client says there is no God then, according to the Bible, he is a fool.

April Fool’s Day is his holiday. Now, get out of my courtroom!”