Throwing corn, soaping windows, smashing pumpkins

I'm up late this morning.  Do you have your costume ready? Me, I'm dressing up as a middle aged asshole who does not care about Halloween. I don't really hate Halloween, just the teenagers who don't bother to dress up, or the kids who won't even thank you for giving them a handful of candy. I actually get a kick out of some of the little kids and their cute costumes. You never see the old bed sheet ghost or hobo anymore, booth staples of my youth.

The weather is supposed to be be miserable this evening, so I expect turnout to be low here in the cul-du-sac. The first year we lived here we had just a handful of neighborhood kids who braved the sleet and snow. Last year the wife and I were working at our retail jobs. We shall see if we have a bunch of candy or not enough. At our old shack, we averaged two to three hundred trick or treaters on Halloween. I don't think we will reach that level. In the old city we had extra visitors because the Hispanics all came to our neighborhood from the low income apartment complex. Do not read anything into that sentence; facts have no hidden meanings, SJWers.

Be safe.

Way to go, Stupid Party

The geniuses at the Republican Party just eliminated one of their most powerful arguments against the Democrats in the Presidential race: spending and national debt. Since the Republicans in Congress are complicit in burdening your kids and grandkids with crippling debt, it is hard to argue against tax and spend policy.

  Morons.

Too bad this post does not have a really good title

Last night's tacos are gurgling deep in my guts this morning. They were tasty at supper, not so much with my morning coffee.

Two things about the CNBC debates that surprise me: the Stupid Party let an admitted left-wing channel host a debate and that the moderator did not ask each candidate what kind of tree they would be if they were a tree. Seriously, why CNBC? That station gets slightly more viewers than I get in a given day. All 50 of their viewers are bat-shit crazy leftists mired deep in Blame Bush Derangement Syndrome and convinced that the One Percenters set the World Trade Centers on fire or something. Most of their anchors and analysts could have been hired without qualm by Pravda had they been "journalists" back in Soviet Russia. CNBC  thinks Obama is so perfect that he craps cellophane wrapped cubes. And this is the medium the dumbasses at the Republican National Headquarters thought should hold a GOP debate? That is like holding an Ohio State pep rally in Ann Arbor. After the fact, the morons in charge complain about the moderators? Well duh. No wonder the GOP is called the stupid party. What next, have the Westboro Church host a gay rights debate? Will they suggest the next Overeaters Anonymous meeting be held down at the bakery? Where the idiots in charge brain damaged by intense games of red rover and dodge ball as children?

In other news it is the season of my least favorite holiday. Halloween is a leftist dream. Kids go out and extort free stuff from hard working neighbors. You either provide the hand out or they damage your property. Looting and begging; just the values we need to teach our youth. I hope none of the little bastards show up at my house this year. That way I can have all of the Snickers and Milk Duds we bought. Bwah ha ha!

Oh, and here is some sorta appropriate Friday music:

Have a great Friday.

Satisfaction Guaranteed

I have no idea why anyone bothers to click here any more. There is no argument the content has been "meh" at best. I'm tired of politics and the presidential field is certainly less than inspiring. On the Democrat side we have a serial liar and criminal, a commie, or a guy we never heard of. On the Republican side we have a blow hard, another Bush, a doctor, and a whole passel of unelectables. I'm forced to repeat my mantra regarding those who desire public office: is this really the best we can find?

So, when it comes to content, politics are out for now. Boring monologues like yesterday's offering are just WTF? fodder. I have not heard a good joke in ages. Why should you read this tripe? I'll tell you. Yesterday I was given some interesting pictures dating back to the Spanish-American War.. Photos of the Maine in Havana Harbor. Pictures of the caskets of those who died in the explosion. I have not had a chance to look at them beyond a cursory examination. In the coming weeks I'll scan the images and post them for you to see. I don't think there is anything new here, I suspect they are reprints, but still interesting. They are for me anyway. Your mileage will vary.

It doesn't matter. I wrote five or six years ago that this place had jumped the shark. Blogging is as relevant today as AOL Instant  Messaging or MySpace. The cool kids have moved on to the book of faces and tweets and Instagram.

The calming influence of rain

My old buddy insomnia stopped by again tonight. He thought it would be a good idea to do a little blogging. Always an instigator, he got me started but provided absolutely no inspiration. So here we sit, watching the little cursor blink and wink at us.  I'm pretty sure the cursor and insomnia are involved in a conspiracy to make me look even more foolish than usual.

A worn out Patricia has been dumping rain on us since yesterday. The blog room is on the second floor here at the homestead. It is the corner bedroom that faces the front of the house and the roof over the porch is right outside the window. I cannot see the wet shingles here in the dark of night, but I can hear the rain gurgling in the downspout. Watch out itsy-bitsy spider!

I have always liked being up in the early predawn hours. It makes a productive workday a bit difficult. By early afternoon I will want a nap. As a teen, I spent many late, late nights watching old movies or reading. Twenty-five years ago as a supervisor on third shift I usually took my "lunch break" around 4;30, then I took a turn around the production floor before starting the paperwork and preparing for the 7:00 am shift change.

How many times have I wandered around a darkened house or sat by a window listening to the sounds of silence while my wife and kids breathed gently in their sleep? On nights like this I live the Simon and Garfunkel hit. That song speaks to the insomniac.

I love listening to the crickets and tree frogs sing their lover's plea into night air or watch the snow fall gently in the soft light reflected from distant streetlights. Or, like tonight, I revel in the sound of raindrops tapping at the windows.

A pair of yawns pops my jaw. It is a signal to my unwelcome house guest to leave. Insomnia does not visit like he did in the distant past. I'm glad. Some old friends are better forgotten. Nostalgia aside, I have seen enough old movies. I know the creaks and sighs of the sleeping house well enough. I'm ready to go back to bed and the steady gentle snores of my sleeping wife. I need one more hour of sleep.

When you can print your own money...

Why bother to have a debt ceiling or a long term budget when Congress takes every opportunity to trash it?

I wish I could just blow my budget on a whim.

Fuck 'em all, including the defense hawks. They lose all credibility when they refuse to cut a fighter that will not outperform a 30 year-old platform.

silly and stupid

Your touchdown dance or sack dance is stupid. It is really ridiculous when you are down twenty-five or thirty points. Hand the ball to the ref and get back to the game.

Easy to make Milk Dud muffins, with pictures

I need a longer cord for my iPad charger. I am listing to the right typing this because my cord is just a tad too short. There are options other than sitting crammed into the arm of the recliner. I could let the device charge a while then post my drivel. I could fire up the laptop and compose a worthy effort. I could just skip an entry altogether this morning.

I spent nearly all of last week in Loo-a-vul. The weather was fine. I was sure glad to be home, though. Leaving on Sunday made the trip seem longer. It is hard to Be happy in a hotel for four nights when I could have been home in a short drive of a couple of hours.

I mowed the lawn yesterday afternoon. If the rain holds off I'm going to pull the tomato plants today. Last weekend's frost did its work. Beyond that, I don't think I have any plans for the weekend. I suspect our resident social director has something in mind. She is always ready to do something after I've been gone 4 or 5 days.

The DOJ, in a complete surprise*, concluded the deliberate targeting of conservative organizations by the IRS was merely poor management. I guess we are to pay no attention to the corrupt bureaucrats behind that curtain. I wonder if the press will be so complacent when a future regime targets liberal groups like Black Lives Matter or NOW? I can only watch in horror as the last three presidents have moved us towards a banana republic. Sometimes I think it was better when the whole bureaucracy was cleaned and restocked with each administration through the patronage system. At least then we knew the government was corrupt, there was no pretense.

The sun is finally trying to burn away the gloom of night. The sky is a light gray from my window. The trees are heading into full color. I hope you have a great Saturday. I think I'm going to slap in an old Dean and Jerry DVD .

Oh yeah, I've never heard of Milk Dud muffins, but I bet they would be delicious.

* did the sarcasm font work?

Why not?

This cartoon is not politically correct in the "everything is offensive" days when a watermelon in a fruit basket is racist and a statue of Thomas Jefferson represents a "nonverbal code" of intolerance and is offensive to blacks and women.

That does not make my man Speedy less entertaining.

I hate you Chicago Cubs

Well, I suppose I still love you, but I don't like you very much right now.

The face beneath the mask

I caught the new Star Wars trailer last night. My son sent a link this morning. He is jazzed. I'm jazzed.

I'm not being a team player this morning. I spent Sunday night with my work colleagues. I was with them all day and until 10:00 last night. This morning I ducked out the side door of the hotel and grabbed a donut and some coffee from the Dunkin Donuts across the street instead of joining the gang for breakfast. I can only be charming so long. I will be with them all afternoon and through another late dinner tonight. Rinse and repeat tomorrow. I think they can get by without my presence at breakfast. I know, as the FNG I should jump in with a smile, but in the normal course of a work week I spend significant hours alone. All of this people time is wearing me down.

A lot of salesmen I know are loners. You might think they are garrulous by nature, but the long hours of travel requires an innate ability to spend time with yourself. As much as I complain about the endless miles passed in the car and the nights spent in a succession of mundane hotel rooms, this alone time lets me recharge the "good Joe" that makes me very good at my job.

I have to shower and "suit up". I'm on again in about two hours...

happy Monday

Has anyone noticed the price of meat lately?

That is what happens when you burn your food and feed for fuel instead of drilling for oil, or piping it down from Canada.

Repairing the potholes in memory lane

When the kids were little we had a video camera. It was one of the first Sony Handicams and it recorded on 8mm tape. Sometime in the late 1990s I spent hours editing these tapes into just one VHS tape for My wife for Christmas, or Mother's Day or her birthday. I cannot remember, but I made the tape, Okay? Anyway, the camera died years time ago, but the original tapes remain. Recently the VHS greatest hits tape resurfaced. I will now digress.

My wife is a pack rat, but is in remission. When we moved to this not so top secret location she threw away, gave away and sold a huge amount of stuff. I took the opportunity to rid us of things I felt we no longer needed that she had previously insisted we keep. One of the items I decided was unworthy of going to the new home was our no longer used VHS player. With the exception of the Disney titles, we had rid ourselves of our large VHS collection and replaced the movies with DVDs and Blueray discs. So, to summarize, we have these home movies of the kids, but we cannot play them. When I was at the oldest boy's house a few weeks ago he mentioned he still had his VHS player. He let me borrow it.

Back to yesterday. After running the head cleaner tape through a half dozen times I was able to make the old VHS greatest hits tape play. I intended to just watch a few minutes, but the sight of my children transported back in time more than twenty years mesmerized me. I called in the wife and we watched the whole thing. While the tape focused primarily on the kids, there were glimpses of my long-dead grandpa, mother-in-law and grandma. I laughed, I cried, I was reminded of stuff I had long forgotten. I saw my youngest the day he was born, saw him crawl and walk. I saw my two oldest grow up again right before my eyes.

We have to get all of those tapes copied over to disc or digital.

A collection of words

I suppose when  future you reads the archives of this blog you will come to the conclusion I am obsessed with weather. Discussion of the temperature and the existence of precipitation are often the opening salvo on a given day. Future you will be wrong assuming I am overly concerned with the daily climate. I do not really care beyond the need for a jacket or raincoat. I like it warm, cold or anywhere in between. Weather is an easy entryway into a conversation. So is sports. That said, it is cold this morning. Like in the 30s cold. I may have to break down and turn on the furnace. The inside temperature has dropped to a chilly 62.

I am late getting to the old blog this morning. I woke about five coughing. I thought I was over that. I finally moved into the recliner. After a while I drifted off, sleeping until almost nine. I cannot tell you the last time I slept so late in the morning.

We finally got the garage done yesterday. It looks great: clean, organized and uncluttered. I can even get my car in now, right next to the wife's Escape. How cool is that? Whether my fat rear can get in and out of the car door is a separate, and as yet, untried proposition.

I made salmon patties and fried potatoes for supper last night and a faint lingering odor of fishy grease still permeates the house. The wife lit a candle last night to freshen things up, but I can still detect a faint smell. I suppose the air is not moving much without the air conditioner or furnace running.

I don't think we have anything of interest on tap today, at least until this evening. Go Cubs.

I hope you have a great Saturday.

If I throw water on her will she melt away or propagate like a gremlin?

Mom always told me that if I have nothing to say I should keep my mouth shut. She did not really tell me that. I think it was some garbage about if I can't say something nice I should keep my mouth shut, but all I heard was blah, blah, blah.

I say mean things occasionally. I write mean things frequently. I think them constantly. For instance every time I see Hillary Clinton I think of Miss Almira Gulch.

I bet some of you do too, even if you are a Democrat. Don't worry, you do not have to admit it to anyone but yourself.

It is Thursday and I'm already irritated about next week

I've been home all week. No travels for me. No powdered eggs in the hotel lobby. No dining alone. No ass time in the car. No crossing and recrossing of the Mississippi River. I have been preparing for the sales meeting and trade show extravaganza next week. I'm just about ready. I have also been helping the wife clean and organize the garage. We got some new shelving a few weeks ago and are trying to get some things trashed, repacked, stored, or up to the attic.

As I said we have a big trade show and a sales meeting next week. I have to arrive Sunday. I already know I'm going to be a bit peeved. I hate trade shows. Time crawls to 1/4 speed when you are standing at a booth in a convention center. The Colts play on Sunday night this week. They will get slaughtered, of that I have no doubt. I predict the Patriots will win 63-7.  But still, I'd like to watch. At the same time the Cubbies will be battling the evil other team, yet to be determined. That I really, really want to see. Instead I will be eating dinner with colleagues I barely know, and really do not want to hang with.  Ditto missing all or parts of the baseball games on Tuesday and Wednesday.  I know what you are saying; it is just a ball game. You are wrong. I have been waiting for this a long, long time. Since I'll be stuck in a hotel room, I can't even record it and watch it later. Boo f-ing hoo for me.

Look, if I have to be honest, my first love is my family. Then comes the Chicago Cubs. Then you, of course. That is the way it is. Missing the Cubs play in a rare post season appearance because of a stupid trade show pisses me off. I can't blow off company dinners for a baseball game and that pisses me off even more.

Auntie Jen, I love you

I woke up a little after five ayem this morning. I don't know why. Maybe I was cold. After the ball game last night I started to think there was actually some good in this world. Then I read This story. Sadly, this is nor a fake news article from The Onion. It does reaffirm why I decided I could never be a lawyer though. Most attorneys are money grubbing assholes. Not you, Mr. Attorney looking to sue for defamation of character, but lots of your colleagues fit that label.

Through the comments on the news site that ran the article I found a short documentary about the old lady who sued McDonald's after she spilled coffee in her crotch. Yes, she was burned badly. My opinion did not change. The verdict was horse crap. The old lady claimed in an interview that "it was not about the money" and all she wanted was for the fast food chain to lower the temperature of the coffee they served. If that was true, then that is what she would have demanded in her lawsuit.

Anyway, suing an eight year-old orphan because he was too exuberant in hugging you is just pretty much the definition of a real witch. One commenter was right; in this case the "A" in aunt should be replaced with a "C".

Maybe

Cub win  Cubs win.

For the first time in the 53 years I have ridden this Earth I actually think it might happen... 1908 was a very long time ago.

I do beIeve.  I do believe.

no excuses, just fact

No time to blog. I have to get my work done so I can knock off early. The Cubs-Cards go at it late this afternoon and I intend to be perched on the couch watching every pitch. I love you, but I love the Cubs more.

edit:  Listen to the radio calls for all six home runs in last night's game:

Cubs win

as time goes by

The weekend slipped by quickly. It seems like it was Friday and now It is Monday. I'm trying think of what I did for two days. We went to dinner with some friends Saturday night. I did just a little yard work Saturday morning: I pulled flowers and picked up sticks. Mostly I napped, read, and watched TV, I guess. The heck if I know where the weekend went.

In any case, we find ourselves at the start of yet another Monday. I'm off the road this week. We have a big sales meeting next week and I've got numbers to crunch, crystal balls to consult, PowerPoint slides to create. If you drive past the house and see smoke seeping out the window of the back corner bedroom I use as my office, do not worry, it will just be my brain burning up.

On the far side of the cul-de-sac the top of the neighbor's maple looks like it was dipped in gold, while the bottom 4/5 looks as verdant as summer. I noticed a twinge of color on my sugar maple out back. Fall is upon us. I have a feeling we are in store for a long cold winter.

A Modest Proposal

There were two more high publicity shootings on college campuses (campii?) yesterday. Were they copycats or publicized with heightened awareness? Clearly something should be done. There is an element of society, primarily those of the progressive bent, who think banning guns altogether is the answer. That proposal is politically impossible. It is also impossible in reality. A confiscation movement could likely trigger a civil war. Even if the government could find a way to peacefully disarm the citizenry, the old canard that states "when guns are outlawed, only outlaws will have guns"  will be manifestly true. It is an inarguable fact that those cities with the highest murder rate and gun violence are among those places with strictest gun laws. Those severe laws have done nothing to reduce crime, but rather exacerbated it. Strict gun laws and confiscation would only punish those who are already law abiding gun owners.

What to do? I say anyone who commits a felony using a firearm gets a mandatory death sentence. I'm not talking those fifteen or twenty year on death row sentences while the taxpayers fight endless appeal systems either. We should set up special fast-track courts who hear quick appeals. Was he found guilty? Check. Did he have a gun. Check and mate. If you are a previously convicted felon caught in possession of a gun, you get the death penalty. That whole process should take about a week. Are you John Doe, is there proof you were sporting a gat? So long and give my regards to Beelzebub. Harsh? I bet the gun crime rate drops.

We shall see what bothers a typical bleeding heart liberal more, the death penalty or the notion a citizen can exercise his God-given Second Amendment right.

Thursday's Child

Thursday recap, let's see, I got up, checked emails, surfed the interwebz for ten or fifteen minutes. I shaved and showered. I packed my suitcase. I got in the car and drove. Stopped and bought a sausage and egg McMuffin since you all let me down Sunday. Drove. Filled the car with gas. Drove. I listened to the radio, then an audiobook, then music from my iPhone then the radio again. Drove. Arrived home just before Thursday Night Football kickoff. Hurriedly unpacked (I can pack and unpack in about five minutes: I have lots of practice). Watched the football game. Shared some popcorn with the wife during the game since I failed to eat supper on the road.  Slept in the recliner upstairs because I am still hacking up my lungs.

Drove past Malcolm X's childhood home in Omaha Wednesday. I did not stop. I was never able to find General George Crook's house. I probably wouldn't have stopped there either, had I found it.

Scarlet Memories

He sat on the terrace behind the hotel. The sun was warm and the breeze had a hint of fall. The man was sipping coffee and reading a book. At the top of every page he would lift his head and scan the area. The river slid by silently a few yards away. Its current seemed laconic, yet was probably stronger than it looked at a glance. He was perched on an iron chair at a dirty patio table. Cigarette butts lay scattered under the table. They were not his. A large cloud cast its shadow and the man put the book on the table and glanced right and left. Something caught his eye and he squinted, peering into the distance. A large blue heron lifted from the wooded opposite bank. The river was perhaps sixty or seventy-five yards wide at this point.. He watched as the bird flew upstream then stole another look around and turned back to the book.

A thin elderly woman in tight jeans and high heels came around the corner of the hotel walking a fluffy white dog along the asphalt walkway. Her long wispy white hair was tussled by the light breeze.Neither she nor the dog paid him any attention as he followed them with his eyes over the brim of the pages. A small black beetle landed on his shirt and he flicked it away. He took a sip of the lukewarm coffee. He reached into his left front pocket and pulled out a phone. A quick look at the screen and he replaced it in the pocket of his jeans.

He laid the book on the table and watched the river. Here, squeezed between Iowa and Nebraska, the Missouri River flowed mostly southward. It turned east to loop and separate the two Kansas Cities then snaked across The Show Me State to mate with the Mississippi in an orgy of Great Plains runoff and Northwoods mud. Just a little further downstream the river was T-boned by the turbulent and reckless Ohio River. All three waters then joined in a winding, jostling hurry south to the warm Gulf of Mexico. The man reflected on this as he stared at the placid river before him.

He stood up, placed the book into the back pocket of his jeans, and walked to the trash can next to the wall beside the door. He dropped the paper coffee cup into the receptacle. He opened the door and disappeared into the hotel.

Like a kid

I have not been this excited for a baseball game in a very long time.

I'm as giddy as a school girl.

If that offends you, don't read here any more. You are a humerless douchebag.

Update

Updated update:

Cubs win.  Cubs win.  Cubs win.

Wild Card Wednesday

The miles slipped past yesterday while I listened to a Stephen Coonts audiobook. When that one ended, I switched to a Patrick O'Brien tale. Ain't life grand? I tried sleeping in the king bed here in my run-down hotel room, but every time I got comfortable I'd have a coughing jag. In the end I spent the night semi-sleeping in a sitting position on the couch with a pillow wedged behind my neck. Good thing I opted to pay the extra ten bucks for a room with a sofa. It did not help matters that the Hot Dog Dance song from the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse was running in an endless loop in my head. My granddaughter loves that show. It is like audio/visual crack for babies

I read where some religious group has calculated the world will end today. Will it be before or after the Cubs game? I think they forgot to carry a one or something. I suspect, if the End Times arrive in my lifetime, Armegeddon will launch either right after (or right before, either would be poignant enough) the Cubs play game seven in a World Series. Since, given my luck, I will keel over from some malady in the eighth inning of that game I won't be around to see either a Cubs championship or the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword.

The Mighty Missouri is rolling by right underneath my window. The far bank is lined with trees and you can almost imagine you are on a boat with Lewis or Clark or even Debbie Reynolds back when she was showing us how the west was won.

I'm off to earn some money for the company. Hot Dog.

Starting with a bad attitude

Last Thursday evening my nose started running and I developed a scratchy throat. Friday this mild inconvenience had turned into a cold. By late Sunday it had all drained into my chest. I have been hacking up my lungs since. I finally got up last night and slept in the recliner. That, along with various over-the-counter meds helped me sleep a little. Tired and irritable is not the way to start a long drive to Peyton Manning's favorite place. I think I will fill the thermos with coffee for this jaunt. I don't know what is up these days. I have been sick more in the past year with minor colds than the entire previous decade.

The bleeping Hampton Inn better have THE baseball game tomorrow. I don't want to try and watch from a bar stool surrounded by jerks spewing fantasy football, cornhusker football, and work drama from their pie holes.

Pointing finger politics

The Colts should give a game ball to the Jax kicker, who missed two game-winning field goal opportunities. Despite some more than questionable coaching and time management decisions the boys in blue squeezed out a division win.

So now what gun grabbers? The Oregon shooter went through background checks, waiting periods, and every legal requirement to get his firearms.  Just what additional law do you have in mind that would have prevented this senseless tragedy? If you are going to point fingers at people like me and say it is my fault for not doing enough, you need to have a plan. At least The Obama didn't blame Bush.

I'll take "hypocritical Democrats" for $1,000, Alex

A few months ago a crazed murderer killed a bunch of Christians in Charleston. This nut job happened to be white. The President, the media, and left-leaning bloggers insisted we had to look at the shooters roots and background to determine the why of his actions. Southern culture was held responsible and State Flags were removed, 30+ year old TV show reruns were cancelled, dead generals were exhumed, and some people proposed destroying Stone Mountain sand the Jefferson Memorial.

This week a crazed murderer killed a bunch of Christians in Oregon. This nut job happens to be black. Will we look at his culture and background to find the why of his actions? Will we call for censorship of rap songs and their message of violence? Will we ban baggy pants? Will reruns of the 30+ year old TV show "Good Times" be axed from the airwaves? One of the main characters is always calling for explosives.

What is the difference?

Coming up with compelling post titles is hard

It is a blustery fall day. It is wet, rainy and windy,  Wait, isn't that the definition of "blustery"? That makes this paragraph redundantly repetitive.

I spent yesterday in beautiful Bloomington, IN at the youngest kid's college apartment. He had all four wisdom teeth extracted. When I left around eight last night he was doing remarkably well. The bleeding had stopped and he only had a little swelling. We will see how he is doing today. I took a couple of cans of chicken noodle soup with me. I was sure his stock of groceries was nil. I was right. Almost every dish and pan was dirty. I heated the soup in a skillet. The sink was full of dirty dishes even though he has a dishwasher. No, I did not clean up the mess. I did go buy some groceries for him, including some soft foods like pre-made mashed potatoes and mac & cheese for him to eat this weekend. He and his roommate did have plenty of booze on hand like most college kids.


Sorry. I'm back now. I went downstairs to get more coffee. I sure wish you would go out and get me a sausage and egg McMuffin. I work hard to keep you entertained, informed, and educated with riveting content like this post. All I ask in return is a crappy breakfast sandwich. You don't have to feed it to me or anything. Just go get it. I'll meet you at my front door; just call when you are close. No, I don't really want to have a discussion with you, we don't need to actually, you know, meet. Just hand me the bag and leave. Don't forget the hash browns. Thanks. Could you hurry? I'm sorta hungry.

The President continues to blame the NRA and Republicans for the actions of a crazed killer, citing their failure to pass legislation that has never been introduced, proposed, or even outlined in the broadest terms beyond outlawing so-called "assault weapons" which are rarely used in these type of crimes, or any crimes for that matter. Yep, if only the "bitter clingers"with their Bibles and guns would allow Congress to do what Obama has failed to propose, none of this would happen. Washington DC, I fart in your general direction.

Have a good Saturday and where are you with that sandwich?

Addendum

If it is an impossible task to deport 30 million illegal persons in the country, what makes gun grabbers think they can round up ten times that number of guns?

A commentary break from our usual frivolity

Tragedy and death in Oregon. One more loser seeking fame in our celebrity-obsessed culture. Do you want a discussion? Start there. What is the answer to gun violence? I don't know. Knee-jerk we-gotta-do-something-anything reactions are not the way to go. The President cries "See I told you we should ban assault weapons" even though there is no evidence an assault weapon was used. His fiction makes it just politics, not a serious quest for solutions. Hard-core gun lobby efforts to limit background checks is equally unhelpful. If you can't wait a few days to pick up that 911 there is a bigger issue. We also can't help but finally acknowledge that gun-free zones are invitations to these types of cowardly acts of infamy. The security guard at the Oregan campus was unarmed. What good does that serve? Worse, despite the hair tearing, hand wringing, and teeth gnashing we will experience over the next few days over the despicable actions of a crazed murdering megalomaniac, the media, pundits, and politicians will ignore the similar slaughter that takes place daily in every major city. They will ignore the fact that those targeted were Christians. They will ignore the basic fact that all of the laws in the world won't stop a nut job determined to kill.

Dear Republican Party

Rumor has it Boehner will use his last days to shove through his long-desired amnesty plan. Free of electoral retribution, the retiring GOP leader can count on the support of house Democrats and the RINO wing. The problem is that poll after poll shows the American people, across party lines, do not want amnesty. Currently the most popular Presidential candidate is ahead primarily based on his strong anti-amnesty stance.

Mittens lost the last election to a bumbling President primarily because his base stayed home on Election Day. Here is a prediction, if the national GOP lets Boehner shove amnesty through then they can kiss the dream of holding the Presidency and Congress goodbye. Coupled with a sell-out on the budget (another great debate winner)*forcing an amnesty bill will be the beginning of the end. When the Whigs just became Democrats by another name it birthed a new party in the 1850s. It can happen again.

I'm told not voting is a vote for the Democrats. When there is very little difference between the parties in Washington, it seems I'm voting for the Democrat agenda anyway.


* why lose the leverage of calling the Democrat candidate as fiscally irresponsible? The GOP are the worst negotiates and campaigners ever.

Free firewood

Today is my oldest son's birthday. He is a talented artist and musician. He just needs a break. My daughter has a family name. The youngest son's middle name is a family name. The birthday boy -- he is named after two famous American generals. I'm not sure he cares.

Fall has arrived. It is in the forties this morning. Sitting here in shorts and a T-shirt, I find it a bit chilly. My coffee mug needs refilled, I'm off to the break room. That is a joke. I work from home. The break room is the kitchen. Ha ha, I bet you are holding your side from the hysterics. I know, I should be a writer on the Tonight Show with that kind of material.

when politics trumps morals

If you found out the local animal shelter took the unwanted puppies and kittens after they were euthanized and cut them up and sold them for dog food, would this bother you? Would you be up in arms, protesting outside the animal shelter?

Be honest. No one will know but you.


Tell me again how you are Okay with Planned Parenthood chopping up babies and selling their body parts.

Boo f-ing hoo, or How President Obama and his friends ruined my life

I met with the big boss from the German home office yesterday. He told me they are most pleased with my efforts. As a reward, my territory will double in January. The pay will remain static, mind you, but I will get to spend more time driving and traveling. I will rack up the hotel points. That means I can reward myself with a vacation from living my weekdays in hotels by going somewhere and spending time in a hotel! But I'm bitching over small things. I like my job and I am honestly glad to have it. I'm in a peevish mood this month. I need a vacation, but can't afford it. I have the aforementioned hotel points. I could stay just about anywhere gratis. But food and gas and activities take moolah. I can sit in a room and stare at the TV without leaving God's favorite state and it won't deplete my precious point fund. Anyway, at home I know who has handled what before they rubbed it on the remote. On the downside, If I take vacation days at home, the wife will put me to work doing stuff; cleaning the garage, yard work, painting something.

As mentioned the other day, today marks my youngest kid's 22nd birthday. He was just a boy when we started this blogging stuff. There are tales of his efforts in little league and elementary football there in the archives. Now he is a student at a major Midwestern university -- no, that is not the start of a "Dear Penthouse" letter. I will see him Friday. He is having all four wisdom teeth extracted. Sucks to be him. Since my insurance has a very high deductible, thank you Democrat Party, ObamaCare has been great (did the sarcasm font work?), my vacation funds will be spent at the dental surgeon's office.

See, it all ties in if you just stick to the end.

A Series Of Significant Signs Signaling Stupendous Stuff

a flock of geese just flew over the house heading...east. What does that mean? Are they heading south for the winter and made a wrong turn back in Albuquerque? Are they making a stop in Atlantic City before heading to Florida? Are the honking geese not migrating at all today and are merely heading for the retention pond in the apartment complex on the other side of the highway? I'm afraid we will never know. Frankly, I don't even care. I doubt you do either.

I had a weird dream that I knew the future, more accurately I knew what was happening now but was transported back in time. My Cassandra-like powers were not a blessing. It was terrible. No wonder Fate is often depicted as an ugly crone.

No travels this week. The boss is in from Germany. I'm off  to the plant for meetings this afternoon. 

I am awake and alive. God has given me another day. Hard to complain about that.

Odiferous Offerings

Once again it is Monday morning and my big bucket of blog ideas is empty.

The Pope has boarded his jumbo jet to fly back to his own private migrant-free country to settle in amongst his priceless artworks to pen another diatribe about global warming, the evils of capitalism, and exhorting every nation except Vatican City to take in more migrants.

The Cardinals, the baseball ones, not the Catholic ones who vote for the Pope, the Pirates, and the Cubs have the three best records in baseball. One of them will be eliminated in a one game wildcard playoff. Life ain't fair and it was never meant to be.

The Colts pulled off an ugly win Sunday. Scores throughout the season are not cumulative and a lucky two point victory is as much a win as a thirty point blowout in the standings. The team has serious flaws. I have no doubt the Patriots will drop sixty points on the Colts when they come to call in a few weeks.

I watched the eclipse on and off last night, between innings of the baseball game. Just as the Earth's shadow darkened the lunar body the clouds moved in and kept the moon hidden for the test of the night. I imagine that kept the werewolves at bay.

The big boss arrives from the Mother Country tomorrow. Expense reports are also due this week. I better get busy. Blogs don't pay the bills. Have a good Monday.

I conducted the same number of mammograms as Planned Parenthood did last year.

The Cubs have clinched a playoff spot. Life is good. Considering just how bad they have been for the past half-dozen years, making a one game do-or-die playoff is welcome.

The Pope has come to the US to lecture us on a variety of topics. When is he going to sell off church property, paintings, golden altars, relics, and antiques to start helping the poor? How many Syrian migrants is he going to allow to set up camp in St. Peter's Square? Is he going to quit traveling in that big jet plane and go coach? That's what I thought. A pointed hat does not always cover a pointy head. The United States Federal Government spent $949,000,000,000 in welfare spending in 2014. That does not include state and local programs or private charity. It does not include humanitarian aid we provide across the globe. This country helps the poor far in excess of a trillion dollars a year. Much of which we are borrowing, leaving the interest and debt to our children and grandchildren. When the Vatican can boast of similar generosity I will listen. Until then, the Pope can take his lecture and shove it.

The family will gather this evening to celebrate my kids' birthdays (is that the right syntax?). You read that right. All three of my kids have birthdays within a two week period. The boys days are actually just a day apart. The daughter had her day on the 14th. The boys will celebrate on the 30th and 1st. We are all going out to dinner for a joint celebration this evening. Life is good.

The sky is overcast this morning. I love this time of year. The days are warm without the humidity. The evenings and mornings cool and refreshing. It brings to mind campfires and cider. I remember the smell of burning leaves, a smell indelibly impressed on my mind that is as much a part of fall as pumpkins and Halloween. Alas, most people under forty have likely never smelled a leaf pile burning, experienced the low haze of smoke settling over the neighborhood. Kids today don't have to make a snap judgement -- do I ride my bike through that pile of leaves by the curb or are they smoldering underneath? Maybe that is just my memory and rampant leaf burning was just a tradition in my little hick hometown. I do know getting rid of fallen leaves was a little easier when you could just rake the leaves into a pile out by the curb and set them on fire.

Partying in a Pope Hat

Winter is coming. There was the faintest bit of russet and gold amongst the green of the trees in Minnesota and Wisconsin during my travels this week. Which brings us to this week's Friday music selection.

I had the Agents of Fortune album on 8 track back in the seventies. (Mmmm-click-click.. )I think I had it on vinyl too. While I might have dropped a couple of bucks on an LP, I was never a big BOC fan. There is a sketchy and tenuous link between the leaves dying and this song, but I'm not up to the task of fleshing out the idea. Just listen to the music and enjoy your Friday.

It was my intention to put up some Fleetwood Mac this morning. I think the harmonies on the song Dreams are beautiful. When I woke, BOC was playing in my head, so here we are.

I have questions

Hillary Clinton has finally stated her position on the Keystone Pipeline. Notice how she timed it to get buried under the Pope news? The Pontiff talked about "economic imperialism" and immigration. I'm not sure where those fall under the category of religion, but the Pope has spoken. Since I'm not Catholic, I can say that I think the Pontiff can be fallible. Maybe Catholics use a different Bible. It seems to me that the Old Testament serves as a cautionary tale against migration. The Jews found themselves in Egypt, in Assyria, in Babylon and in each case wanted nothing more than to get back to Israel. Every time they got away from the land of Abraham they needed prayer and martyrdom and God's intervention to get them back home. That seems a pretty clear object lesson. But, as usual, I digress.

Clinton has come out against building the Keystone Pipeline because of global warming. Now I have a serious question. How can transporting crude through pipes underground have a larger carbon footprint than toting it by truck?  Seriously, could someone from the "WeAreAllGonnaDie" global warming/climate change crowd explain this to me? Now I suppose the Teamsters are going to be OK with Hillary's position, but how does she explain to the tens of thousands of union construction workers that she is not interested in getting them "infrastructure " work?  How will she explain to the American people that she is more in favor of buying oil from OPEC and the Saudis, that she wants you and me to pay more for gas to fight global warming?  Of course as soon as the pipeline is dead look for OPEC to Jack the price per barrel again.  You do not think the current price is a coincidence do you? Of course no one in the media will bother to ask her these questions. Maybe the answer is lost somewhere in her secret email files.

Dear Indianapolis Colts

You went out and spent big bucks for a stud free agent running back. Why in blazes are you passing on third and two and third and one?

What a maroon

Apparently Lindsey Graham was spouting off on one of the Sunday news programs yesterday. He recounted a tale of a kid he met in Kabul, who moved to the United States and became a citizen. Graham said he hoped that wonderful kid could be president some day. To paraphrase a classic SNL skit; "Lindsey, you ignorant slut..." you have been in the Senate for how many terms? You have run for President two or three times. You swear to uphold the Constitution, yet you are too  stupid to know a naturalized citizen CANNOT become president? You are a fucking tool. If you are one of the leaders of the GOP, then the nickname of "stupid party" is especially apt. Since all of those old blond jokes are now probably verboten by the PC police, I'm going to recycle them as Lindsey Graham jokes.

For some reason yesterday's post reminded me of an old effort from back in 2012. Hunting back through the archives I found stuff I don't even remember writing, including a short story about a kid in junior high being abused by the class bitch. I had no idea I wrote that. I remember writing a half-assed tale about a mean old drunk, but not that one. Alas, like most of my literary efforts it died for lack of imagination and talent. Anyhow, the frame of mind that inspired yesterday's ramblings reminded me of This post

In the meantime, me and Elvis are off to Blue Hawaii.

North Star blues

I miss the stars. We moved to the suburbs almost two years ago. I love our house, the neighborhood and the nearness of shopping and dining options. Previously if I wanted to buy a pair of pants, for instance, I could go to WalMart, the farm supply store, or...no other choice unless I drove thirty or forty minutes to Indianapolis. Now, I can be at three different malls in fifteen minutes. There are many advantages to living here, the best of which is I am closer proximity to all of my kids.

Living amongst the more than eighty-thousand in my town, surrounded by the million-plus in the metropolitan area means congestion, people, crime, and light pollution. I miss seeing the stars.

Thunder rumbles in the background as rain taps a steady rhythm on the roof and gurgles in the downspouts. It is a good day for reflection. Last night I saw a snapshot from a long-ago family gathering. I don't remember the event. I was maybe eight or nine. Dead relatives smile back at me in the picture. I look at the photograph and I instantly remember the people as they were and as they are today. I miss my youth, but would not repeat it for anything.

I miss seeing the stars, yet would not move back to the small town under any circumstances.

I Nearly Forgot

It is Friday. This is music. Thus, this is your Friday Music Selection. You must listen and enjoy. The Obamassariat decrees it so.

Kerouac

I rolled out of Dubuque on old US Highway 52. The pavement rode the bluffs along the river; curving and climbing the Iowa coast. After about 30 miles the road turned east and I crossed the Mighty Missippi on a grated narrow bridge. I sloped across the northwest corner of Illinois seemingly alone on the highway. I turned on the baseball game and for a while felt transported to a time I never knew. I took a one block detour to see the birthplace of Wild Bill Hickok ( who wouldn't) before turning onto the interstate. I picked up U.S. 24 before rejoining US 52 near the heavily guarded Indiana border (just checking to see if you are paying attention). I eventually got home.  It was another day driving the heartland. It was yet another thousand mile week. I like my job. I don't mind the travel; the being away from home. It is the hours of windshield time each week that are sucking my life away. Thirty-four thousand plus miles since the beginning of the year is too much driving time. I get three more states at the first of the year.

The same, only different

My posts this week have been a lot like the weather, remarkably banal.  At least the weather is pleasant. I don't suppose my efforts are disagreeable, rather more akin to dry white toast.  Perhaps my automotive excursion today will provide the necessary chipped beef gravy, or blog fodder, if you prefer, to make the postings palatable.

Dang, now I'm thinking of gravy, and I'm suddenly jonesing for some biscuits and sausage gravy. Mmmm, gravy....

riveting

The sunrise is fantastic on this chilly fall morning. The day looks to be warm this afternoon. After yesterday's lackluster blogging performance you might think I would put up a strong offering today by way of atonement. You would be wrong.

Yesterday was my daughter's birthday. I plan on mowing the yard after work. Two multiplied by itself equals four. It is trash day. The granddaughter is here, she all stuffed up with a little baby cold. That does not stop her from smiling at me though. Mundane stuff.

I'll keep it short so you don't waste any more time. Have a great Tuesday.

Been there, seen that

Stuff that cracks me up:

A Chihuahua in Mexico -- Costa Maya 2015

Yo quiero Taco Bell?

I'm just a ball on Fate's billiard table

I feel awful. I forgot about you this morning. I could blame work or life. That would be a lie. The plain fact is I have nothing of interest for you or me. You will have to carry on without me. Maybe later.

Dear Girl at the Donut Shop

it serves no purpose to wear those plastic gloves to keep your germs off my donuts if you are going to wear them all of the time, like working the register when I pay for said donuts.

I will overlook the hygienic transgression because your donuts are so very, very, good.

Quit yer cryin' NOLA

Reunion Island once got 72 inches of rain in a 24-hour period. For my fellow history majors out there, that is six feet of rain in one day.

 Katrina dropped 8-10 inches of rain on New Orleans.

Today

I almost always have a post on December 7 about Pearl Harbor. Most years I recognize Memorial Day and Veteran's Day. Each year I am increasingly reluctant to write a tribute about 9/11. I'm sure an analyst could get to the root of the matter. Perhaps it is just the media saturation in the days leading up to the anniversary of that fateful day. There will not be a 9/11 memorial post this year either.

I have a post swirling in my brain about our blindness to the threat of Islamic Terrorism on 9/10/2001 and the Democrats who just armed our Iranian enemies -- ironically on 9/10. Once again my senator, Joe Donnelly, proves he thinks he is in Washington to represent the Democrat Party, not the people of Indiana.

Postcard from the road

Well I made it down to Springfield. The weather is great. I have to see a couple of customers this morning so I don't think I will have time to visit with Homer and Marge. I may or may not go out by the battlefield before hitting the road back home.

The drive down was uneventful. It rained on and off until I reached St Louis.  I listened to the end of an audiobook and started another before switching over to the baseball game. The Cubs bullpen blew the game in the eighth and let me tell you, the Cardinals broadcasters were going wild. I listened to radio music for the last hour of the trip.

I have to jump in the shower and see what the hotel has for breakfast. Then back on the road.

Hope to see you soon,

Joe

Lying liars and the lies they tell

Hillary's latest excuse is that illegally keeping Government email on her private server was OK because the State Department said it was OK. She claimed this in an AP interview on Monday. Too bad the reporter did not follow up with the unstated and obvious point -- Clinton was the Secretary of State at the time. That means Hillary Clinton was IN CHARGE of the State Department. It was only "Okay" because she said it was.

If Clinton did nothing wrong why is that server wiped clean? Why did she refuse to turn it over for months? I keep thinking of Nixon's blank tapes....too bad Democrats cannot muster the same outrage they managed in 1972.

Let my people go

The locusts are in the trees, telling the world they are as randy as a teenager. Their chirping song is the insect version of Frankie crooning at Annette out on the beach. I hear them every year at this point in the season and think nothing of it -- until the events of last night.

I had thawed some chicken breasts for supper yesterday. We spent the afternoon at Lowes, Menards, and Home Depot sizing up and pricing  various options and colors for full view storm doors. We did not buy anything because the one of us not named Joe cannot make a decision. After which, we came home. I plopped on the couch to watch the Cubs give a smack-down to the evil Cardinals. The wife decided to mosey down to the mall to look for some jeans or something. I wasn't really paying attention. Sometimes when she talks it is as if I am Charlie Brown and she is the teacher. She stayed late at the mall and called to tell me she did not want grilled chicken for dinner and let us meet down at Scotty's Brewhouse on 96th Street. We did. She ordered a grilled chicken sandwich. I said nothing about that.*

The wife wanted me to follow her to Target to look at a crib. As I got in my car to come home I could see some critter perched on my wiper blade barely visible in the last remaining twilight. I thought at first it was a locust, but closer examination showed it to be a wee frog. How it got there, I don't know. I was not parked anywhere near a tree nor water. As I turned onto the street he moved around and perched on my window, just behind the mirror to avoid the slipstream. When we got to Target I parked next to the wife and showed her the frog/toad on my window. She too thought it weird. I pried him off and put him by the cart rack.

We came home watched TV blah, blah this has gone on too long already. Fast forward to eleven-something. I am heading up to bed. I step into the kitchen to get a drink and notice something clinging to the screen on the patio door. Stupid locust I imagine. I walk over and no, it is no locust, no giant moth, but rather a frog! * *  I know. Two frogs are trying to kill me in one day cannot be a coincidence. It must be a plague. Frogs. Locusts. If the water in my little fountain out back turns to blood I'm gonna crap my pants. Did anyone hear tell of the authorities finding a baby floating down the White River in a basket? Are they building pyramids over at Conner Prairie? You decide: paranoia or pattern.




* none of this is relevant but "Dude, I found a frog on my windshield and then later a different one was on my patio door" seems far less interesting and a much shorter post to me. Skip to here next time if you are a Spark Notes kind of guy or gal.

** yes I know both were probably toads, but you have to go with frog for the second plague reference. Sheesh, lighten up, Francis.

i am sure

We have a digital scale in the bathroom. It does not speak, but it does exaggerate and lie every time I step on it.

Next verse same as the first

Remember yesterday's post? You did read yesterday's post, right? Just ignore all of the swimming pool party stuff. Pretend it did not happen because....it did not happen. Our friends live about an hour north and it was cloudy with a strong chance of rain yesterday while today is to be hot and sunny and dry. It is a much better day for swimming and such. Mentally cut and paste the pertinent parts of yesterday's post right here:



You can do the video too if you like.

We ended up going down to the local farmer's market and walking around. We picked up a cobbler and some apple butter and scored some sweet corn. It did cloud up here in the late afternoon, but it did not rain.

Have a good Sunday.

A little of this, a little of that

My granddaughter loves blueberries. She will gobble them down as fast as you can give them to her. Her fondness for blueberries extends to blueberry pancakes and blueberry yogurt. So it is no surprise the wife keeps a stash of blueberries in the 'fridge. I was tempted to snatch a few to put on my Cheerios this morning. Tempted is the key word. I did not do it. Stealing from your kid's piggy bank is one thing, copping the granddaughter's blueberries is a crime of a different level. *

It is nice to have good friends. It is even better when said friends have cool stuff. It is best when those friends let you share in their cool stuff. Our best friends just put in a new in-ground swimming pool. We are off today to take a dip in their new cement pond. We will laugh, drink a few brews, smoke a couple of stogies this afternoon and round the evening with a cookout and some euchre.

Our pool party will be NOTHING like this, but it does give me a reason to put up some gratuitous nudity on a holiday weekend. Click or don't click.

I'm off to the store to get the stuff to make a pasta salad and some lemon bars. I would not go to a cookout or pool party empty-handed. Of course, now the weatherman has changed a forecast that has been predicting no rain today for a week to a chance of rain this afternoon. Must I bring clouds into every life?

It is a holiday weekend, the traditional end of summer. What are you doing on the interwebz? Get out and do something. Shut of that computer, laptop, tablet, or phone. Have some fun.


* it is a joke, relax you micro-offended out there. 

Choices

A few years ago a group of Muslims objected to handling dog food and pork while working as check-out associates at Target. I said do the job, quit, or be terminated. I feel likewise about the Clerk in Kentucky. Gay marriage is the law of the land. You don't have to agree. If handing out marriage licenses to gay couples is morally objectionable, you can quit. There is no other legal choice and refusing to do your job should be grounds for termination. No one is forcing her to break her moral code. She does have an option, not a good option, but an option. It is no different than the Target Store workers.

When the man signs your check, you do what he says or quit. Life works that way.

It is going to be alright

Do not be too disappointed over the quality of today's offering. I went back and read the entries for every September 4th for each year in the archives. Not one of them was remarkable.

Inevitable Return of Friday Music

How about a trip back to the seventies today? I was not a huge Boston fan in my youth, but over time have acquired a better appreciation for their music.

It looks like a good weekend is on tap for the holiday weekend, though hot and humid. I have yard work to do, but plan to relax a bit as well.  How about you? Anything fun planned?

it might be, it could be, Home Run!

Now that we are into September, July weather has arrived. Temps are forecast in the nineties for the next several days. GlobalWarmingClimateChangeWeAreAllGoingToDie zealots will nod their heads sagely. They will wring their hands and exclaim that something, anything, even if it will not change the thermometer one fraction of a degree, must be done. The level-headed among us will just nod and muse that it has certainly been hot in early September in the past. Fret not, Climateers, like the Starks remind us, winter is indeed coming. I hope just not soon.

I went to the doctor this morning. My blood sugar is still too high, but much better. We will increase the dosage of medicine. Thank goodness we are bumping the cheap pill dose, not the expensive Lantus --for now.  This high deductible policy sucks. Thanks Obama and every fucking Congressional Democrat. You have managed to get insurance for a fraction of the uninsured on the back of my policy, premiums, deductibles, and wallet.

It rained buckets yesterday afternoon; so hard the gutters could not handle it. After the rain the temperature was a very comfortable upper seventies, but the humidity was downright Mississippi summer-like.

It is hump day and the long weekend is getting closer. I can't hardly wait. I need a vacation.

Why I hate Peter Frampton

It must have been my freshman year in high school. Frampton's live album was all the rage that bicentennial year. Perhaps it was the winter of '77. I was a scrawny short nothing: the quiet kid in the back row of the advanced English class. The weird kid who turned red whenever a girl spoke to him.

Miss Parker was teaching about poetry. She told how a poem came in many forms from traditional to the plays of Shakespeare to a song. Our assignment was to find a poem that we liked, that spoke to us as a person. We would read our poems to the class.

I had been reading a significant number of books about the Revolutionary War, it was,as I mentioned, the bicentennial. Somewhere I had acquired a thin tome of writings related to the Revolution: Patrick Henry's Liberty or Death speech, essays by Paine, and Emerson's Concord Hymn. Perfect. That was a poem!

The day came. The first girl stood up to read her poem. She read lyrics from a Peter Frampton song. I sat smugly, I had a real poem. Everyone would see how smart I was, finding a poem that marked our country's revolutionary struggles.

The next girl also read lyrics from Frampton Comes Alive. So did the next. A guy read lyrics from another song. My head began to pound. Another girl read song lyrics. Another student read more Frampton. Panic starts slow and builds. At fourteen embarrassment is the worst possible outcome to any situation.  More lyrics. I hated that fucking Frampton guy.

Just a few students left. Look down, Joe. Maybe Miss Parker will forget about you. No. My turn. My brain screams "Turn it to your advantage". I take a superior tone and tell the class I have a "real" poem of historical significance. I read my Emerson. Blank faces stare at me, even Miss Parker has that WTF? look on her face. Oh god, I'm the weird kid. Loser, geek, nerd, spaz, "didja hear about Joe Hoosierboy?", dork.

 The final two or three students read their poems to the class. All read song lyrics, my memory says they read Frampton, but I was in catatonic embarrassment shock. Woe. I was very short. Very skinny. Couldn't play basketball. Read some kind of weird-ass poem in freshman English class. It was going to be a long four years of high school, but I was sure of two things -- I would never ever knowingly take a poetry class in the future and  Peter Frampton was an asshole..

No mas

Is it just me or does anyone else find Flo from Progressive past her usefulness? She has gone from mildly amusing spokesperson to "so annoying I would not buy her insurance if it was free".

Your opinion may vary, but you will be wrong.

English 201Essay-What I did this weekend

Happy Monday, fellow Americans. I have little to report this late summer morning. I had a good and uneventful weekend. I swam in our friends' new pool, drank beer*, smoked stogies**, mowed the lawn, trimmed bushes and shrubs, cleaned up limbs, watered the front lawn, went grocery shopping, ate Mexican food, and watch a gem of a no-hitter.

That about covers it.


* Franziskaner a Munich-based Heffeweizen, Budweiser, Yeungling Lager

** Hoya de Monteray 7x48, El Rey de Mundo Maduro 5x50

Someone gave me the bird

I was watering the flowers last evening. As I opened the gate in the privacy fence to go into the backyard I discovered a dead bird on the stepping stones. It was a robin and I swear it looked like he fell out of the tree. Maybe he got drunk on fermenting fruit from a neighbors apple tree. He was not torn up like a cat had played with him, in fact, he looked like a stuffed bird from an antique store or taxidermy shop. He was stiff, but the flies had not gotten to him yet. Very weird. If someone sends me a dead mackerel, I know what that means. I am unsure about a stiff bird.

Wherein the Author Rambles On in Order to Avoid Doing the Tasks at Hand

Here we are at the close of another week. It is also the end of the month and that means I have the odious task of compiling my expenses. I started to drag out the receipts and put them in order yesterday when I got a call from the office. Top management-types wanted me to come in and offer sales advice. I jumped in the shower and pulled on clothing suitable for the real office, not my home office. To start, real offices require shoes. I suspect they frown on the wrinkled T-shirt from yesterday and shorts, both perfectly acceptable for the home office dress code. In any case, it was nice to be consulted on sales strategy, especially since I am the new guy. Perhaps I was consulted less for my acumen than my proximity to the plant? In other words, I was handy? No, no; I prefer my delusions.

If I get my work done I will need to mow the yard. We have plans for Saturday and it is slated to rain Sunday.What? My you are a Nosey Nellie. We are going to a pool party if you must know. Sorry, you ain't on the guest list.

My daughter and SIL went to see some guys fight Foos last evening so the granddaughter spent the night. It was no big deal, she goes to bed around 7:30 and sleeps through the night, so it amounts to just a few waking hours she was here extra since the wife babysits her during the day anyway. I cannot believe I wrote that convoluted, twisted sentence. How would you like to put a tree on that one back in grammar class? Do they even do sentence trees any more?

We were all set to grill some burgers last night but the gas expired just as I was set to drop the patties. The spuds were already in the oven and I did not have time to get a propane refill. I pan fried them instead. The fresh 'maters from the garden made the meal passable.

Look there, a whole Friday post without a YouTube video. That may be a good thing or a bad thing depending on your particular approbation of these meandering musings. If the combination of letters, words, sentences, and paragraphs was amusing, you won't mind the missing Friday music selection. If your response is more akin to "Geez, I don't care" , then you might have wished for a musical distraction. But what if I had posted something especially heinous like Boy George or Billy Don't be a Hero or Afternoon Delight? In that case, my random bullshit just might not be so bad. It is all relative, dear reader.

Enough

Can we just move on? Hurricane Katrina was a decade ago.

Dear Blog

i have not forgotten about you. My plate is full right now, although my coffee cup is empty. The coffee I can handle. New content here will have to wait.

Your Pal,

Joe

Nothing to it

This is my 5,000th post.

Friken Fraken Bleep

Sometimes you hit a rhythm when you are driving. The miles pass by as you cruise down the highway like [insert race car driver of your choice] is at the wheel. I was in just such a zone on my long trip westward today. That may be why I missed the sign lowering the speed limit to 55. That's why I picked up a ticket for driving 76 in said 55 zone from the polite State Trooper.

Sucks to be me.

Something new

I like to read. I always have. I've read thousands and thousands of books. I read an average of one book a week these days. As a teen, it was probably three or four books a week.  I read every single book in the 900 section at old Samuel P. Kyger elementary. That would be history, geography, and biographies for non-librarian types. I read a whole set of encyclopedias. I have read the Bible and the Koran. I have read all of Louis L'Amour's books and the works of Patrick O'Brian. I've devoured histories of the Zulu Wars, the American Civil War, Napoleon, and both World Wars. But until recently I have read nary a word from William Faulkner.

I picked up for cheap a Kindle collection of his short stories and I am hooked. The man could write a short story. I think I may tackle one of his novels in the near future. It is said some of his novels are similar in style to the unreadable James Joyce. If so, I will be sadly disappointed. Joyce sucks.

Dodging the Drivel

Happy Saturday to you. It looks like a beautiful day here at the old homestead. I'm stifling a few yawns after a somewhat restless night. I have been having strange and vivid dreams every night for  a while now. I usually don't dream, so this is a new thing. I can't usually remember the dream and the fragments that remain in my consciousness make no sense at all, like my fraternity house having my grandma's furniture.  The real point is what is up with all of the dreaming? Where are all of those psych majors with the answers?

The weather has settled into an almost fall-like pattern (the ghost of Hemingway just had a stroke). Overnight lows in the upper 50s and daytime highs in the 70s makes for perfect weather, but remarkably chilly for August. It has been another cool summer here in God's country; climate changers can rant about the hottest summer evah ( or at least in the last 150 years or so) all they want.  When future weathermen talk about future weather, not a single day, week, or month from 2015 will be listed as the hottest on record here. The wettest, certainly, but not the hottest. I bet we have topped 90 but a handful of times. Your weather and climate may vary.

I have rambled and wasted enough of your time. Go enjoy your Saturday.

Ketchup on a hot dog is just wrong

I probably posted this as a Friday music bit previously. I dig this tune. It was either The Animals or an old Mellencamp song you probably never heard unless you owned the LP. Sorry, no Porter Wagner, Teach. I do remember watching Wagner with his magnificent sparkling coats sing along with Dolly Parton and her magnificent...back when I was a kid and the world was broadcast in black and white.

Has this happened to you?

I was sitting on the couch watching the Tigers pound the Cubs pitching when a post wrote itself in my head. It was not about baseball, of that I am certain. What was the content? I haven't a clue this morning. I went to sleep and the dream elves must have wiped the blogging portion of my brain as clean as Hillary Clinton's email server. I don't think the post was about politics. Honestly, I don't know what it was slated to be about (not grammar, based on this sentence).

If you know what I planned on blogging could you remind me?

Getting old sucks.

It is not that hard

i have been posting this for almost a decade. The illegal immigrant problem can be fixed. We don't need mass deportations. We might not need a wall.

1. Fine any employer of illegal workers $100,000 for the first worker, then double it for each worker after. I'm not talking each incident where 4 workers count as one, but each worker doubles the fine. I'm no code writer, but people who are tell me that creating a database of SSNs would not be hard. If a duplicate is found,  the worker has to prove his identity. When I got my new job last November I had to show my ID and Social Security Card.

2. Institute a 20% tax on all money sent to Mexico.

3. The mother must have been a legal resident of the US before an anchor baby gets benefits or can be a citizen. This may take a Constitutional Amendment.

4. No tax refunds, no welfare, no benefits for illegals. Period. No exceptions.

If there are no jobs, into welfare, and it costs a lot of money to send cash home, there is no incentive to stay. Many will head back home or get in line to be here legally.

I will take Hump Day for $200, Alex

The company is closed today for a company outing, so I have the day off work.  That does not mean I won't be working. I have some emails to deal with and some travel arrangements to make for next week's excursions into capitalism. Plus, I am sure the wife has a list as long as her arm of stuff I should be doing instead of whatever I am doing.  It is supposed to rain so many outside chores can be dodged under the threat of being washed out. I think I will milk changing the furnace filter and adding salt to the water softener as real work.

I threw a couple of burgers on the grill for supper last night. Grilled sweet corn, baked beans and tomatoes fresh from my tomato patch rounded out the feast. It was better than a fancy meal from a Michelin-starred eatery in my opinion. We should have eaten out on the patio instead of inside, but that is a minor detail.

My coffee mug needs refilled and I can hear my granddaughter downstairs. If you are looking for a political rant you won't find it in this post.

You pick up the check

When the leftists are not making up a fake war on women they are spend their time fretting about income disparity. What that means is they want to take money from you and give it to those they deem less fortunate, or as Obama termed it, "spreading the wealth". But just like in all communist regimes and socialist Utopias, that means the rulers live in mansions and have special privileges while everyone else waits in line for toilet paper and potted meat product.

The next time Hillary starts ranting about income inequality and one per enters I'd like to see an intrepid reporter ask why doesn't she reduce her income to 110% of the average American income and give the rest to the poor. I'm sure there are shelters and food banks that would love the millions in income.

Instead of yet another vacation on the taxpayers maybe the Obamas could sell the Magnum PI house in Hawaii and give the proceeds to the poor.

Democrats are always good at spending my money and your money. They just like to keep their own. On second thought, I need to change that sentiment. The Washington Republicans are no different. Politicians like to spend your money. Politicians are always claiming they just want to serve the people. Let's make Congress pay $63,000 per year. That is 20% more than the average American family makes ($52k). No lifetime pension. That way we would get representatives who really want to help the people, who will stay a term or two and move back to their real jobs. No more lifers running Washington who don't even live in their State or District anymore.

Where I'd Rather be today

Cozumel, Mexico 2015

Heigh Ho

It is Monday and I have much work piled on my desk. It looks to be nice out, hot and humid already. The air conditioning is steaming the windows as it fights the hot air outside. We had a good weekend and I hope you did too. Perhaps more later.

Do not eat the brown acid

Three days of peace, love, and music. Woodstock was 46 years ago.

I wasn't there, I was only 7 for cripe's sake. Neither were half the people who claimed they were. I bet it was a lot of fun, though.

I would watch my Woodstock DVD this morning but the boy took it to school. I guess it is good he appreciates classic rock. When I was in high school WLS played "oldies". Since my car only had an AM radio, this was one of about four stations worth listening to. This old songs were only 20 or 25 years old in the 1970s. Most of what today is called classic rock is twice as old.

PS: Yes, I know this song was not played at the festival. Yes, CSN's version is better than Joni Mitchell's.

Mindless musings

We are babysitting for the granddaughter this weekend. It is amazing how quickly life's problems -- bills, health, money, work -- disappear when she smiles at me. I was sitting on the patio last night sipping a beer and smoking a cigar as the setting sun painted a few high clouds in pinks and reds and orange. Smoke hung above me in a faint cloud while the little fountain gurgled nearby. The big willow shadowed the back yard with regal flair. I am indeed blessed.

I am sitting in my office recliner this morning typing away at this entry. In the opposite corner, Charlie, my two-foot tall wooden cigar store Indian, stares at me with a stern expression, dreaming and straining with every wooden fibre to chop me to pieces with his little wooden tomahawk. Or perhaps he is naught but a piece of old tree cut and carved and painted for my artistic amusement.

A fake potted plant sits atop my desk, flanked on either side by my humidor and a model of the HMS Victory in full sail. The walls are hung with pictures of Johnny Cash, Wrigley Field, my true lamb skin college diploma, and Lucas Oil Stadium. Three stoneware beer mugs from Germany sit atop the computer cabinet next to the twin of the fake plant from my desk and one of those electronic picture frames loaded with pictures from our trip to Hawaii but turned off.

It is Saturday morning. The coffee is nearly gone. The day is just starting.

To the Batcave!

Yeah, yeah Friday music, no one cares. It is bumped down. I have better, more exciting news. A new donut emporium just opened in the strip mall over on the other side of the highway. The donuts are light and airy and soft and sweet and I want to eat several every day for every meal and get your hands outta that box they are mine, precious...

New people have moved in next door. So far they seem nice. I am somewhat concerned they are planning nefarious activities though. Other than needing a quick escape in the event of a SWAT raid, or sudden early morning attack from rogue Apaches, why would it be necessary to back your mini vans into the driveway? Maybe they are superheroes, poised to save suburbia from rogue student athletes selling discount shopping cards good at local businesses in order to help pay for new football equipment or volleyball knee pads. I don't know. Perhaps they need to get to the donut shop post haste and do not wish to be slowed by all of that tedious backing all the way down their one-car length driveway.

For that matter, what is up with the recent trend of backing into parking places? Back in, back out, you still have to drive in reverse. Assholes driving the wrong way down the aisles in parking lots so they can back in the open space are just a step above left lane lallygaggers in the hierarchy of jerk drivers. What is the point?

Groovy

The music is good, but the lyrics? Stitch, witch, ditch -- not exactly brilliant rhymes.

I confess, beyond three or four songs aI am not much of a Donovan fan. I did write about his music previously, in a roundabout fashion.l. I suppose it is the "head back to college" season that made me think of that old post from back in 2010.

In any case this lessor-known Donovan tune is your Friday music.

Dear GOP

...your strategy of positioning as Democrat-lite and turning your back on conservatism has won the popular vote in exactly one Presidential election in the past 24 years. Reagan's conservative platform won two landslide elections.

Facts are indeed stubborn things.

4985

Is it just me or has this place become stale? I think I need to change the template or something. Perhaps a new name? What? A new writer you say. Har har. This is my 4,985th post. I have been at this strange compulsion for ten years and 4 months. If my history-major math holds true that is right at 40 posts a month. Oh,I know some of you have been at it longer, a few post more often, most write better content. 5,000 seems like a nice round number. Maybe that is the change I need.

Humpity Hump

It looks to be a bright and sunny summer morning outside. I can only base my assessment on visuals since I have yet to venture outside. I am about to jump into the shower and head down to the hotel lobby for my powdered eggs or oatmeal or whatever offering looks the most appetizing.

I have a couple of customers to see this morning and afternoon then a long boring drive home. That is not a complaint, merely a statement of facts.

On Fox News they are talking about a convicted murderer in California who is about to get a sex change operation at taxpayer expense. Doctors say the prisoner will kill him/herself without the surgery. Part of me thinks society might be better off without this individual adding to carbon dioxide levels and causing global warming. Certainly the taxpayers will. I suspect the family of the person he murdered would agree.

I'm offended you find everything so offensive

A woman ran the London Marathon in April while on her period. I bet many did. But Kiran Gandhi did it sans tampon or pad. Why? Because tampons are misogynistic or something. She is tired of period shaming. Whatever that is. She is mad you won't sit around at work and share feelings with her about her period. I'm not making this up. I wish I was.

Gandhi told Cosmopolitan she thinks the social constructs around periods are based on misogyny. 

"I have this vision that if men had their period, because we are in a male-privileging society, that rules would be written into the workplace, rules would be written into the social fabric that enable men to take a moment when they need to or enable people to talk about their periods openly," she said  Link

Seriously, wearing a tampon is a sign of female oppression? I'm trying hard these days to reduce the amount I swear, but what the fuck? Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar and a body function is just biology. I don't sit around and talk about my latest dump, or the scab I picked off my knee when I meet a customer. I do not want to hear about his chunky vomit or her monthly flow. I know it is modern culture, but we don't have to share everything. "Say, Jim, I shat a turd so big last night I thought it would rip apart my butthole."  Even Joan Rivers would have refused a talk about your period.

In other news, Target will no longer label departments as "boys" or "women" and will no longer separate stock based on gender because...well for reasons I don't understand. If little Jenny asks why the Legos are stocked over by the toy cars I would just say that is where the store keeps them and that answer would serve 999,999 kids out of 1,000,000. Once again we see a segment of society actively searching for reasons to be offended.

Guess what, men and women are different. Why don't we all just dress in a Mao uniform and be done with it? I find pinto beans, rap music, the Toyota Prius, and wearing pajamas bottoms to WalMart offensive. I don't insist these things be banned from society.

Under Pressure

Here we are on a bright and inviting Monday morning. The start of a new week. Our prospects are inviting. Optimism is high.

And I have nothing to offer you. I paid the gas bill this morning. Ooh ahhh. I'm going into the office for a while later today. Wow. The sheer excitement that makes up my life is overwhelming.

I'm alive and relatively  healthy. The coffee is hot and strong. The chocolate chip cookies the wife baked last night are sweet and chewy. Bumble bees are buzzing about the rose of Sharon outside the front door while a hummingbird hovers nearby. Lack of blog content isn't high on my list of worries. After all, I have managed to string letters in to words and words into semi-coherent sentences, and like a magician yanking a kicking bunny from a beaver hat, I have indeed conjured a meager post. This effort may not be witty, full of meaningful political content, or riveting prose, but it is a fair example of what a conversation with me would be Like this morning.

I hope you have a great day.

Liar, Liar

Yesterday I cut down a cedar tree and trimmed the branches and cut the trunk into manageable hunks.  Then I cut, chopped, hoed, and hand tilled about half the ground cover. No one asked, cajoled, or guilted me into working. It just needed done. No cigar, no book, no cold brew on the patio, just a lot of darn hard toil in the summer sun. But today...

Lazy

For the first time in months we have nothing scheduled for this weekend, as far as I know. Better yet, the yard is mowed and the house is reasonably clean. I'm sure the wife will conjure some project. The idea of sitting around with nothing to do is foreign to her. But I intend to resist her efforts to budge me out of the recliner or off the patio. I may take a walk or water the flowers, but I am not going to get into cutting down more trees or digging out the pernicious ground cover the previous owners planted under the big willow. I don't want to clean out the garage, or power wash the shutters and siding. I intend on smoking a cigar and reading a good book in the afternoon sun. I might take a nap.  Perhaps I will watch an old movie or two. Call me a no good lazy bum, for that is my goal today.

My take on the GOP debates

Bugs remains my favorite cartoon character and this episode in particular is a classic. There are so many funny things flashing by I still see new gags every time I watch it. I offer up some Looney Tunes in lieu of Friday Music. If you are really jonesing for some Foghat you can skip over to YouTube.

I did not watch the debates. Absurd and pointless theater has no attraction for me.

Thursday Liner Notes

I was set to pen a long post about Planned Parenthood last evening as I stared at the walls of this week's Hampton Inn. I even started research and writing. I ended up deleting it. You either understand the selling of baby parts is wrong or you don't. Nothing I write that no one reads is going to change the situation.  Can anyone explain why Democrats are against making birth control an over-the-counter medication?

I have had the weirdest dreams for the past several nights, unbelievably detailed and vivid. When I wake the substance of the dream fades as quickly as the hole a pebble makes when you toss it into a pond, but the idea that the dream was there is as tangible as the ripples on the water. Strange, I rarely dream and doing so multiple nights in a row is unusual.

Windshield time is not conducive to a positive outlook on life. I-70 in particular seems to wear me down and over the decades I have found this true of the roadway no matter what part of the country it traverses, perhaps because it is mostly a straight slash across the center of the nation. The highway seems to be a weird dividing line for weather; above gets snow, below does not or below sees rain, above the road none. It also seems to be an almost modern Mason-Dixon Line dividing cultures and dialects. I know this to be somewhat true in Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois. I am not sure if the pattern holds sway in other parts of the country. It is also quite likely the whole idea is a figment of my imagination. Anyway, from Harrisburg to Kansas City and beyond the road is boring unattractive and dull. How US 40, which covers pretty much the same exact ground can be so much more interesting is beyond me. Of course the old National Road will take you twice as long to get you where you are going.

I think that is enough mundane, incoherent, soporific scribbling for today. Who in the heck writes whole paragraphs and posts about highways? It's a road.

I'm Full of It

Recently the wife scored some big T-bone steaks on sale. These babies would have tempted a vegetarian. They were an inch thick and weighed in at about a pound each. I soaked some fresh sweet corn in water then threw it on the grill in the husk beside the steaks. I baked a couple of spuds and sliced a red and a yellow tomato straight out of my tiny garden.  I managed to cook the beef perfectly. It was a gut busting feast fit for a king. Were I a poet, I would pen an ode to that summer supper. I ate until I thought I would explode like Mr. Creosote.

After dinner the wife and I sat on the patio enjoying the mild evening. I came in and cleaned the mess while she pruned some flowers. Then I watered the tomatoes and flowers behind her. Since I had over-eaten at supper there was only one remedy: dessert. I cut up some strawberries and served them over slices of pound cake. The wife had whipped cream. I opted to soak the mess in milk. Shut up I like it that way. 

I fell asleep on the couch in a gluttonous haze.  Yes, this is reason 1,411 you wish you were me.

What's for breakfast?

Enough about the stupid dead lion already.

Learn something, damn it

I get it. Long summer breaks lead to retention issues in the schools. Teachers have to spend weeks teaching what the kids learned the previous spring. School grades and administrator and teacher evaluations depend on the students getting up to speed. I don't care. August 1 is too early to head back to school.

When I reflect on my youth almost every happy memory is from the summer: vacations, bike rides, cruising, swimming, summer camp, baseball, drive-in movies. Many years we did not go to summer camp until August. The Little League World Series and the State Fair haven't even happened yet.This year we have had such a wet and cool summer I bet the kids feel like they never even had a break.

It is important our kids get an education. They also need time to be kids.

Dear Politicians

If that rule, regulation, or law you propose really was "just common sense" then we really would not need legislation to force us to comply.

It will be just like floating the Amazon, only different

It looks to be a fine day here in the Hoosier Heartland. This afternoon we will sally forth to attend the company picnic. The festivities will begin with a canoe trip followed by a catered affair. It looks like it will be in the mid 80s and low humidity for the event. I can live with that.

I'm no stranger to a canoe. We owned one when I was a kid. As a young Boy Scout I earned the canoeing merit badge. One year the troop took a week-long canoe trip down the Wabash a River in lieu of going to a sanctioned summer camp. We had great fun. I used to be able to pilot an 18 foot canoe solo with ease. I imagine the old skills remain, I have not been in a canoe for a couple of decades at this point. We shall see. Unless one of my fellow employees rams us or my wife leans us over, I am confident I can make the trip without soaking more than my shoes. That is my intent anyway.

Rain is forecast this week so I will probably try to get the yard mowed after the picnic. That is unless I am too tired or just do not want to. I hope you have a good Sunday.

Stale donuts suck

Good morning blog world. I ventured forth this morning to procure some donuts for breakfast. I was somewhat disappointed and just a little miffed to find my first cinnamon twist more than a bit stale. One would think that the donuts at 6:30 in the morning should be fresh and soft. I went to the higher priced local joint instead of the big chain. My Dunkin' Donuts are always fresh. i tossed that donut, but the second choice (old fashioned cake) was only marginally better. I guess the donut chef came in late today, so I got yesterday's creations. That's what I get for going early.

Stale donuts are but an inconvenience on this otherwise beautiful day.

Ps confidential to Fuzzy: it is impossible to comment at your site. You are in my prayers during these tough times.