boring

Nope, nada, nothing. It is not writer's block, it is more a lack of ambition. I just do not feel like it. There are plenty of topics -- we are upon the anniversary of the sinking of the Indianapolis this past weekend. I started the research, I just do not feel like finishing. Barbara Tuchman once wrote that "research is endlessly seductive, writing is hard work." What you do not know Barbara Tuchman? Look her up. Whilst you are googling, look up Adrian Marks. I knew his son.

Lots going on this week, lots of travel. I will be heading to the Chicago area for a long up and back in the same day on Tuesday. On Wednesday I am off to Texas.

I am also busy here at the homefront. Kiddoes number one and two are off to college in a couple of weeks, so we have stuff to buy, pack and move to their respective living spaces. That is just the beginning.

Work beckons, I have to get ready for my meetings.

1304

I am in a shitty mood. I was yesterday too. I picked a fight with the wife. Then with my oldest son. Then another with the wife, this one a big one. When I went out to the porch to apologize, I started another instead.

Dragonlady said some nice things about me and I smarted off in the comments. I swear you would think I was a female on the rag or something. Need more proof I am a jerk? I purposely put up a post number for a title because I know it upsets one of my mostest very favorite reader/bloggers. I was going to change it, but I want you to know how it is today. I guess you hurt the ones you love.

* insert fifteen minute break*

Reading some other blogs, and I see I am not the only one in this mood. The one who cannot be mentioned by name or linked is too. (Hey, you are either in with the cool crowd or you are not!). Sometimes I think she is my twin sister by another mother.

I drank some OJ and had a couple of little chocolate donuts. Neither did a thing to change my mood or make my shoulder quit hurting.

The original intent of this post was to write about something funny I saw last night. Surfing the channels I saw that the Giants were on TV. The Marlins were finishing an at-bat and the announcer said Bonds was first up. I stopped, I wanted to see Bonds break the record (I want to see the event, historical-wise, not that I want him to break the record). The last commercial out of the break was a PSA about the dangers of steroids. I laughed my ass off. Did ESPN do this on purpose? I can only hope so. Bonds came up and walked. Did anyone else see this?

My boy is at Scout Camp

Dear Mom & Dad,

Our Scoutmaster told us to write to our parents in case you saw the flood
on TV and are worried. We are okay. Only one of our tents and 2 sleeping
bags got washed away. Luckily, none of us got drowned because we were all up on
the mountain looking for Adam when it happened.
Oh yes, please call Adam's mother and tell her he is okay. He can't write
because of the cast. I got to ride in one of the search and rescue jeeps.
It was neat. We never would have found Adam in the dark if it hadn't been for
the lightning. Scoutmaster Keith got mad at Adam for going on a hike alone
without telling anyone. Adam said he did tell him,
but it was during the fire so he probably didn't hear him.
Did you know that if you put gas on a fire, the gas will blow up? Talk about cool!!
The wet wood didn't burn, but one of the tents did and also some of our
clothes. Matthew is going to look weird until his hair grows back.
We will be home on Saturday if Scoutmaster Keith gets the bus fixed. It
wasn't his fault about the wreck. The brakes worked okay when we left.
Scoutmaster Keith said that with a bus that old you have to expect
something to break down; that's probably why he can't get insurance.
We think it's a neat bus. He doesn't care if we get it dirty and if it's
hot, sometimes he lets us ride on the fenders. It gets pretty hot with 45
people in a bus made for 24. He let us take turns riding in the trailer
until the highway patrol man stopped and talked to us.
Scoutmaster Keith is a neat guy. Don't worry, he is good driver. In fact,
he is teaching Jessie how to drive on the mountain roads where there isn't
any cops. All we ever see up there are logging trucks.
This morning all of the guys were diving off the rocks and swimming out to
the rapids. Scoutmaster Keith wouldn't let me because I can't swim, and
Adam was afraid he would sink because of his cast, it's concrete because we
didn't have any plaster, so he let us take the canoe out. It was great.
You can still see some of the trees under the water from the flood.
Scoutmaster Keith isn't crabby like some scoutmasters. He didn't even get
mad about the life jackets. He has to spend a lot of time working on the
bus so we are trying not to cause him any trouble.
Guess what? We have all passed our first aid merit badges. When Andrew
dived into the lake and cut his arm, we got to see how a tourniquet works.
Steven and I threw up, but Scoutmaster Keith said it probably was just
food poisoning from the leftover chicken. He said they got sick that way with
food they ate in prison. I'm so glad he got out and became our scoutmaster.
He said he sure figured out how to get things done better while he was
doing his time. By the way, what is a pedal-file?
I have to go now. We are going to town to mail our letters & buy some more
beer and ammo. Don 't worry about anything. We are fine and tonight it's
my turn to sleep in the Scoutmaster's tent.
Love, Rickey

Friday Funny

A Cicada lies dormant underground for 17 years and then emerges only to say

More on pygmy sex

I love CDs for their size and convenience. I also love the clear sound you can get with just a little maintenance. MP3 players will eventually replace even CDs in the future. But I miss record albums. Especially the cover art. The tiny picture on a CD cover has no soul. Here is one of the greatest album covers of all time:

The music is pretty damn good too. What are some of your favorite album covers?

Half speed

I am chugging along at half speed this morning. The wife and I took the youngest to see a midnight showing of the Simpsons Movie. It got laughs from the opening and never let up. It was as funny as some of the shows back in the Conan O'Brien days. My only complaint the movie was only a little over an hour long. In all, one of the funniest movies I have seen in a while.

The Bamboo Garden

I am back in the office early. My customer visit was cancelled by the customer. After driving a big two plus hour circle through east-central Indiana I went had my hair cut instead. I ate lunch at this Chinese place. Do you find the sign as hilarious as I do? I guess it is better than "Our waitresses are flirty, the floor is dirty".

I was going to rant about the cost of higher education and student loans, but unless you have kids in college you do not care. If you have kids in college you do not need to hear my rant -- you know the score.

The Simpsons Movie hits theaters tomorrow. I am pumped.

I know it is Thursday, but lets all try to get laid tonight!

Heighooo

If you are not reading JamesOldGuy on a regular basis you are sure missing out. He says what he thinks and he is usually right. Here he is on Hillary Clinton:

She has no self pride her only thought is to be president , she would suck a donkeys dick in Time Square if she thought it would get her votes.

He cracks me up.

It is gloomy and rainy today, but I woke in a great mood. Payday will do that for you.

Bush planned 9/11

If you believe the US Government planned, initiated and carried out the attacks on September eleventh,then I have a message for you.

You are a fucking moron. You should not be allowed to breed. You should be immediately sterilized. You are a menace to decent society. You should be examined by competent psychiatric professionals to determine if you are a danger to yourself or others.

If you believe the US Government assassinated JFK, if you believe the US Government knew in advance and allowed the attacks on Peal Harbor to happen, then you are no less ignorant of history, of facts, of common sense.

Governments, including ours, have a history of lies and deceit. Power corrupts. But to blame our Government for the acts of murderous religious fanatics is the reaction of an individual that is either suffering from ostrich syndrome, an islamofascist himself, or a deluded nutcase that hates the United States so deeply that you border on traitorous behavior. To believe BUSHCHENEYHALIBURTON committed the 9/11 attacks and are currently planning another such attack in an effort to overthrow the Constitution of the USA in a mad power grab is nuts. If you believe this bull -- well I think you are insane.

My life in Jeopardy

I am up at 5:00 am, hanging out with my buddy insomnia. We spend a lot of time together these days. I guess it is time to finish the post I wrote yesterday, my own little game of Jeopardy. You have the answer, now the questions:

1. What are the odds Greyroostercock survives the beating he is about to get from Big Dick?

2. How are things going for Osama Bin Laden?

3. How are things going for Osama Hussein Obama?

4. How is HB sleeping these days?

5. How are the negotiations going with big customer?

Update

Not very good. But thanks for asking.

Todays simple life lesson.

Lets try a little home experiment. Watch your local weatherman every day for a week. You can also watch the Weather Channel. Track how accurate they are. Now ask yourself this question:

If the trained, educated meteorologists are incapable of predicting the weather twenty-four hours in advance, how can they tell us what will happen in fifty years?

Then ignore the hype and bullshit surrounding Global Warming. I know this is not an original thought, but it cannot be repeated enough.

Done with Harry Potter

I finished it. One of the best books I have read -- ever. Lots of action.

I am not a smart man

Math was never my strong suit, but I have a question for my local readers. With property taxes spinning out of control due to the new reassessment measures (30-100% higher in every county) why are local governments strapped for cash and looking for other ways to raise funds? Indy has seen property taxes double and more, but still raised the local income tax by 60%. I do not get it. Please help me understand.

Now leave me alone

There will be limited posting today. Why? Here is a multiple choice test for you:

HB will not be posting today because


A) Work, Work, Work
B) He is in the middle (page 446) of a certain just-released book
C) He has nothing vital to impart
D) All of the above

Step Into the Twilight Zone

I was over at my buddies house last night, he of the knee surgery in the post below. Since then he has had four more surgeries on his right knee. He is going next month to have his knee replaced. We drank a few beers and he asked if I remembered the time we took him out and got him wasted before he had surgery the first time. I just laughed. It is weird how the mind works. On Friday, out of the blue I had a starling clear memory of that distant evening. I tried to write about it, I just wish I had the literary skill to spin the story better. The next day he tells me he is going to have additional surgery and brings up the same memory. He said he and his wife were talking about finally having the knee replaced on Friday morning as he was leaving for work. do do dooo do

Sometimes there are weird coincidences in this universe.

One Night in Frankfort

The air is punctuated by the deep rumble of engines and glass pack mufflers. The shouts and whistles of the kids mix with an occasional car horn and racing engine. Some of the cars are parked, most are cruising at idle speed around Mac's Hamburger Stand. The cars are of many varieties, many are muscle cars jacked up in the back to accommodate the wide tires. Some are family vehicles or the old junkers the kids could afford. Being a rural town, there are a lot of pickup trucks. The music plays a cacophonous soundtrack, radios and eight tracks turned at various volumes -- loud and really loud. Nearly all are playing rock and roll. One of the stoners has a unique turntable mounted in an old marine compass in his van.

We cruise down the highway and turn into Mac's parking lot. Jeff's Camaro growls under the hood with power. We are not looking for a race, but we are trying to score some booze. As we slowing drive around the restaurant I scan the cars and crowd for someone who can score. Maybe they are old enough, maybe they have a contact. We briefly consider driving to Illinois, it is early enough to make the two hour drive each way, but we know we do not have the money to buy gas and beer. Besides, when we get back it will be too late to party it up before we have to go home. Jeff is not crazy enough to leave cases of beer in his trunk. I do not see anyone as we turn back onto the strip.

We join the line of cars traveling slowly down the highway. We make the turns through town and around the square. We head back east towards Mac's. Our vehicle is part of the summer conga line of automobiles cruising the strip through town. A girl in a halter top leans against the bridge. I whistle and call to her. She flips me off. The sequence is repeated by various cars and teen aged boys in our wake. She is there to be seen. We try and think of a source for beer. I wonder if my brother has any? We have not seen him cruising yet this evening. It is still early. I suggest we buy some cigars. As we pull into the grocery I spot Bill's Torino. As usual he has washed and waxed it to a brilliant shine. Jeff goes into the store to get some smokes, I head over to Bill's car. It is actually vibrating with the power of the speakers blasting the Rolling Stones. He turns it down as I ask if has any beer. After some teasing and giving me a hard time he says he will get us a case of Little Kings or Strohs. I give him a ten spot. He just made a couple bucks profit since those are the cheapest beers around. He says it will cost us six of the beers. I whine, but he knows I will give in. He is going to drink all night for free when he buys beer for the rest of us. It is only fair, he has the five o'clock shadow and fake ID. We agree to meet in an hour or so. He is on the way to pick up my brother.

We rejoin the line of cars and after some time park up on the square next to a cobalt blue Cougar. The driver asks if we want to get high. We consider it, but neither of us has much money left after paying for the beer. It is still a week until payday for us both. I was not much for grass anyway. We drive to the park looking for girls. We find a couple of other buddies, they ask if we have some beer and we tell them we have some on the way. They are going to pick up some as well. We park Jeff's car and get in with them. We get our beer and Brian drives to a seedy part of town. He goes into a house. We discuss the rumor that a guy walked through an upstairs window of the place while high on angel dust. Troy tells us he is going to the hospital for surgery in the morning. Ah, we are celebrating! Bill bought us Little Kings Ale, Brian drops a case of the same in the backseat of his big Buick.

Flying down country roads we throw the empties at mailboxes. Cigar smoke rolls out the windows and music washes over us. The smell of corn and farm mingles with our laughter. We head out to Michigantown hoping for a fight or at least a disagreement. The tiny burg is dead. We head back toward town and Mac's. We sit on the car and drink our beer from paper cups. We trade some of our beer for a pint of rum. We head inside to buy some cokes for mix.

Stars whirl through the night sky and the cars rumble through the parking lot. The music blares as the evening heats up. We discuss going to Lafayette, but we know we will sit and cruise and drink right here at home. Some girls stop and flirt, they are not interested in us as much as the rumor we have some booze. We continue to ply Troy with liquor, joking about our goal to see that he will not need anesthesia for his operation -- he will be feeling no pain!

After a bit we pile back in the car and cruise some more. As usual, Brian is low on gas. We all throw in a couple of bucks. We drink, we laugh and the the night rumbles on. The cars honk and music blares through the shouts and waves as cars pass heading the opposite direction on the strip. Four young boys, just on the edge of manhood, get gloriously drunk on beer, on rum, on summer, on the joy of being alive.

Love me do

I have an incredible craving for a gin and tonic. I do not know why. Normally I am a beer drinker, but a G&T sure sounds good. Yes I know it is 8 am.

I have been reading a biography of the Beatles. It is by a bloke named Bob Spitz. At more than 800 pages it is a big read, but so far very entertaining and well researched. This is the second Beatles book I have read this month. I tend to get obsessive about a subject and study it until my interest is satiated. In the past I have delved into the Boer Wars, The Civil War, The Zulu Wars, The revolutionary War and WWI and WWII. I read every book I could find on the US Indianapolis. Now I am stuck, I guess, on the Beatles. What is interesting is I have never been a huge Beatles fan. I think my CD collection consists of the Number 1 album. In the days I owned vinyl, a worn copy of Meet the Beatles stood gathering dust, passed to me by some unknown source.

I am at the part where the boys are in Hamburg, learning their chops. The are living the high life in the St. Paulie District (for those of you who like foreign beer do you know a St. Paulie Girl is a hooker?). The book talks about the Red Light district and the Reeperbahn. This area was/is a free wheeling entertainment and sex district since the middle ages. The part of town where sailors came to 'relieve the pressures' from months at sea. I have been to this area of Hamburg twice. I wrote about one such visit here. I remember yelling at Hans-Jurgen to "mach schnell mother fucker" as he stood by the car taking a piss as we stood freezing in the rain after a long night of drinking. The bars and strip clubs blasted electronic techno funk instead of rock and roll. I would have liked to visit in 1960, what a sight it must have been, as rock and roll began to grow up.

Skyrockets in Sight

Several ideas for posts have been rattling around in my skull like gravel in an old coffee can. Have you seen the Harry Potter movies or read the books? Dumbledore uses his wand to pull memories and thoughts from his brain. They look like milky spiderwebs. I need to be able to do that. Maybe I should forgo posting until I have my coffee. I do not doubt some medication would help as well.

Baseball is over for the year. We were knocked out in the semifinals of the SE State tournament by the same team that knocked out in the finals last year and the year before and the year before. Go read last year's post and the one from 2005. This year we came in third, all the previous we were second. The boy did not play much, the coach took out his animosity to me on my son -- a petty and small man indeed. That is what happens when you stand up to a bully -- he takes it out on those unable to defend themselves. Maybe I will tell you the story sometime. In the end, in a must win game, the coach swallowed his pride and put his best team on the field and suddenly there is the little one starting in his accustomed outfield spot, playing every minute of the game. Too bad the coach's son played like crap. He gave up six runs as pitcher in the final inning as we lost 8-2. You do the math. My kid scored one of our two runs.

As I look back over the mind farts I have wafted onto the blog page so far I detect a tone out of character in recent days here at Fat in Indiana. Time to inject a little more negativity. This is also a test to see if you have read this far, since I know none of you have any interest in my mundane life.

There are movies you hit while channel surfing you must stop and watch. There are songs you will always listen to on the radio. For those of us of a certain age it might be Stairway to Heaven, Freebird, or Turn the Page. But are there songs and artist you hate so much you will turn them off at the very first note? I will turn off the radio at the any hint of Afternoon Delight, but in all fairness, I would likely not listen to any station that would play such trash. I am talking about bands that would be included on the play list of your favorite station.

There are several artists I particularly hate. In fairness, if I listen to most of their work, I do not dislike any particular song, but something about the music turns me off. Foremost of those on that list would be Aerosmith. Stephen Tyler irritates the hell out of me. We were driving down the street the other day when an Aerosnith song came on. The boy reached up and punched a different station button. I asked why he did that and he said " 'Cause you hate Aerosmith and I wanted to save you the effort of changing the station." I also hate nearly any song by ZZ Top or Tom Petty. The king bee of my list of hated musicians has to be Steve Miller. I cannot think of a single song of his, going back to Quicksilver Messenger that I can stand for more than a nanosecond. How about you?

Just a post before I go

Legend has it that Graham Nash penned the tune "Just a song before I go" in about an hour at the end of a recording session. Well I will give you a post in the fifteen minutes before I hit the road to do my selling thing. I am in the midst of negotiations with one of my larger customers -- a multimillion dollar account. Several times in the last few months I think we are done, ready to sign the papers and a new wrinkle delays the deal. I hope we get it all resolved today. I am done negotiating after this meeting. I have one very small carrot left in my bag, and then we have given all we can.

My mood is no better than last week. Thunder is rumbling in the distance and the sky is dark. It looks like I face a wet drive. The visitors lot is far off at this customer, so I will have to use the umbrella and wet clothes for my meeting. Happy happy smile smile.

Kick a dog for me today, will ya?