The government is closed and I don't care

It's all just a big stage play, this government shutdown. Both sides are leveraging to gain power for the next election cycle. Trump won the nomination and election pretty much on stopping illegal immigration (that and his last name wasn't Clinton), so I'm not sure doubling down on amnesty is a good Democrat policy move. I may be wrong.

I know this, if the news program you are watching in any way blames the President, you should find a new source of information. That news writer, reader, editor, or producer is profoundly Constitutionally illiterate, stupid, or just a damn liar. Congress passes the budget. Well, they are supposed to. For several years now they just pass continuing resolutions to keep on spending whatever was in the last budget, plus mandatory increases they loaded in just so both sides can have room to posture. Finance is a legislative power, not executive. Look it up.

How long do you think this shutdown would last if the Congress Critters didn't get paid and their staffs were furloughed? Could you imagine their panic if they had to live on lobbyist kickbacks alone?

We had dinner with some friends last night. The guy is a pretty hard-core Democrat union member-type. We get along despite his leftist leanings. Neither of us is going to change the other's mind so there is no point in arguing politics. Anyway, he made an interesting point. He said it is time Democrats quit trying to win the last election and started to win the next. "Trump won, somehow", he said. "Move on".

Indeed.

Wherein I do a bunch of complaining

My Internet is slow as heck this morning. I don't know why. I will blame it on the Government shutdown. The real issue is my office is as far from the router as possible. I need to get a mesh system or at least a wifi extender to improve performance.

It looks like I will have a busy weekend. The wife wants to rearrange furniture. And since I'm the one that will have to do it, we outta clean the carpets while we are at it. Don't forget that "we" will have to patch the holes in the drywall since stuff on the walls will have to be moved too. That means painting. Yet she tells me I'm being an ass about "Just moving the couch to the other wall". Yes, that other wall where the sofa was when we first moved here and she didn't like it there. She wants to find room for some shelves/bins for the grandkid's toys because somehow adding more furniture to a crowded room is going to give us more space.

I might have convinced her that cleaning the carpets in the middle of winter when the boy's dog is still running around the house is a waste of time. The boy is planning on moving out in a month or so.

At some point I have to get the Christmas stuff back in the attic. All I ask is for someone to help. If they pass me the boxes it is a lot faster. And easier. Otherwise I have to carry each box, one at a time, up the ladder. That is up and down for each box. 15 boxes means 30 trips on the ladder. The ladder is 8 feet so that is like climbing 30 flights of stairs. I need the exercise, but come on. I have made the boxes smaller and lighter because I'm a weak old man, but that means more boxes that I have to handle.

I know, boo hoo, whaaaa. I've pretty much spent the past few weekends parked on my lazy butt, so I guess a little work won't kill me. I don't have to like ot though. Besides, it gives something to whine about and that is my most favorite activity. I'm good at it.

Enjoy your Saturday.

First time for everything

I have had a job since I was 13 years old. I have rarely missed work. I almost never take sick days. In fact, when I had my surgeries in 2016 that was the first sick days I had taken in 3-4 years. I doubt I have missed 10 days of work (outside of my surgeries) in more than 40 years of working.

Today, I took a sick day. It is the first time I have ever, to the best of my knowledge, called in sick when my only illness was a desire not to work.

Yes, I played work hooky today.

Do not rat me out.  I hate snitches.

I have been thinking

Thinking. That might be dangerous.

I thought I was done with this subject, but what do you think when the Trumpster says (or didn't say) "shithole"? Me, I think of poor, uneducated, crime ridden and corrupt places.

The color of skin predominant in those places didn't pop into my mind. But then I don't readily go straight to the race card. For me corrupt, poor, uneducated, and crime ridden does not mean dark-skinned. It means uneducated, corrupt, etc. That's all.

Now, it could be I think that way because I'm a white guy steeped in white privilege, whatever that means. Maybe I'm a mere rube, hick, redneck. I'm not good at virtue signaling, I guess.

What I do think, is that a real racist would automatically think I'm talking about people of color when I say shithole, corrupt, uneducated, or crime-prone.

Of course Haiti is a shithole. Calling it so doesn't denigrate a Haitian person based on their skin, it denigrates the circumstances in which they live -- you know corrupt, uneducated, crime ridden, and poor.  In other words, a shithole.

Dear Pope

Your...ah, Pontifications...are getting old.

How many migrants did you allow to move into Vatcan City last year? How many Church properties were handed over to the various States to use as migrant housing?

That is what I thought.

STF up already.

Your friend,

Joe

Poof! There it goes

Man, I can't believe it is Monday already. I'm not sure where the weekend went. I'm not even sure what I did. I know your Monday morning is not complete without an account of my exciting adventures, but you will not be able to live vicariously through me today.

It appears we got a layer of snow overnight.  It is still falling. The lady on the radio says we will get three or four inches today. How ironic     REDACTED       on MLK Day.

Oh, relax. It is just a joke. To quote Robert Plant: "Does anybody remember laughter?". 

Where was I? All of your enraged outrage threw me off. 

I would appreciate it if you kept your protests electronic. There is not much parking here in the cul-de-sac, and that is filled with plowed up snow right now. Plus it is cold. And it is snowing. Besides, there is no public transportation out here in the 'burbs, and if there were, it wouldn't be running because it is a holiday. If you do decide to march around carrying signs in my front yard I would watch you through the window while sipping coffee. Hey, could you pick up those sticks that have broken from the tree while you are out there? Tuesday is trash day. Be a lamb and pull my bin out to the curb, OK? You might as well shovel the walk since you are traipsing around anyway. There is no point wading the snow and ruining your shoes. 

Look, what if I apologized? Could I go down and get some coffee? I do not like being held hostage on my iPad. 

You know, this is kinda like a SNL skit, I'm not sure how to end it. 

Have a great Monday and holiday.

Edit: My wife says that joke is totally unacceptable. Would the 12 people (according to my logs) who actually saw it please erase it from your memory? Bleach it away like Hillary and her emails. 

I am Sorry. 

Love means never having to say your sorry.

That is horsechockey, you know.  Do not adopt that attitude if you are entering into a relationship. 

Now get off my lawn.

Staffing Changes

I got a spam email from a dude the other day who told me how great my blog was. Then he offered to write it for me. I guess his message was "you are good, but I am better". If this drivel was written by someone else, it wouldn't be my blog anymore, would it?

I fully acknowledge that better writing would help the place. It might drive up readership. An editor would be a significant improvement. While we are at it, a template change and pruning of the blogroll would spruce the place up too. A pay raise for the writing and custodial staff would improve morale. Perhaps new iPads and laptops for the research department are in order. How about pretzels and cold beer TGIF parties?

Plush offices in one of those new downtown buildings would be sweet. Right now we are running out of a spare bedroom converted into an office. Perhaps we can get the good coffee for the Keurig instead of the Sam's Club store brand? Better yet, how about an espresso machine?

We need polo shirts and hats and coffee mugs with our logo on them. I guess we also need an art department to design a logo.

If we make those changes the blog would really be something.  Oh wait, blogging died about a decade ago. I'm just holding on through life support and sheer hard-headed stubborness. Never mind.

A Rose by any other name

"Lets be outraged" theme of the day is that Trump referred to shithole nations as...shithole nations.  We all know many of you who are now in the throes of vapor swoons over this comment secretly call those Third World shitholes..."shitholes". Your outrage is that Trump said it.

No? How many of you are saving up your cash to take a dream vacation to Haiti or El Salvador or Uganda?

That is what I thought.

If those shitholes are not shitholes, then why do the people from there need refugee status?

More to the point, Why do we give preferential immigration treatment to people from countries where most of the population has no education, no job skills? Those folks are most likely to end up on welfare and cost the taxpayers money when they arrive. It has nothing to do with race, but rather the purpose of immigration. Are we looking to help people out of their misery or to make America a stronger better place for all of us? Is the purpose of immigration to provide cheap labor or should there be a higher purpose?

Your answer to that question will define your level of outrage regarding labeling shitholes as shitholes.

The more things change, the more they are the same

I just cannot muster any outrage over politics these days. The denizens of the swamp and those who feed there, namely the press and lobbyists, are going to fight tooth and nail to make sure outsiders are stripped of power. There is just too much money at stake.

I listened to a lengthy podcast this week about Teddy Roosevelt. It is interesting to trace his political fights. While I do not agree with many of Roosevelt's political positions, TR was similar to Trump in that he was popular with the voters and absolutely loathed by the politicians and Party bosses. The media hated him but he sold papers. TR bucked the system and fought the corruption, lobbyists, and bureaucracy. When he made his comeback bid in 1912 TR won the primaries but the Republican party had a pocketful of delegates that were not tied to the primaries that swayed the convention. Sounds a lot like "super delegates" doesn't it? In truth, the Republicans preferred to lose an election rather than let Roosevelt back in the White House.

Thus we got the despicable Woodrow Wilson.

Roosevelt was unpredictable, eschewed political correctness, impulsive, and straight talking. He upset foreign nations, and was decidedly Pro-American. TR was unconventional in his life and habits. While he spent his life in politics, Roosevelt was not a politician. That was his unforgivable sin.

Some things don't change. Even a century later.

I am taking a look forward to touch you

I got the greatest spam comment ever on a throwaway post from 2015:

Amazing things here. I am very satisfied to peer your
post. Thank you so much and I am taking a look forward to touch you.
Will you kindly drop me a e-mail?

I rewarded the spammer by publishing his nonsense.  I am giving like that

Oprah is The Man

Tuesday I made a quick jaunt to Ohio (o-hi-ya). I got home around 5:00. It was cloudy, but moderately warm (40s). The snow had melted from the porch roof so I climbed up and removed the Christmas decorations. I stripped the trees and bushes of their lights and removed the garland from the porch. I de-Christmasified the house.  It is all now piled in the garage until I can put the stuff back in the attic over the weekend. This was the first opportunity due to snow and cold to get outside.

Yesterday I motored up to the Windy City and back. It was annual review time with the boss. I have been at the gig less than a year, but frank discussions on performance and expectations is always welcome. I worked my previous gig for more than 8 years and never had a review. Not one. We all got the same annual percentage raise, janitor to clerk to salesman, no matter if one performed well or poorly. The Man got a two-fer from me yesterday as the work day ended up being just a shade over 17 hours long, if you count the windshield time. The drive passed pleasantly enough listening to the History on Fire podcast.

I wish I had exciting tales from tne road to offer. I took no scenic byways. Traffic was as expected. Other drivers stupidity was held to the minimum. In other words, my journeys were as boring as this post makes them  seem.

It is supposed to be warm for one more day. If the rain holds off I might try to get in a walk. I haven't been able to get out since well before Christmas. Walking on snow-covered streets and sidewalks is a good way to hurt oneself. While I don't mind it being cold, I have no interest in braving subzero winds to tour the neighborhood. I might just bust open the humidor and burn some fragrant tobacco lovingly rolled between the thighs of a Caribbean beauty* during my exercise**. Now that is something to get excited about.

Have a great Thursday.

* leave me alone in my fantasy. Deep down I know it is manufactured by a sweaty crone in an oversized T-Shirt, the pits stained yellow by repeated wear and infrequent washing, stolen from her last boyfriend; a low-level enforcer for the local drug dealer.

** yes there is something self-defeating in smoking a cigar while trying to get some exercise. Look at it this way -- I won't be toting along a beer.

A Most Perilous Path

I joked around in the previous post, but the Anti-Trumpers are heading down a dangerous path in their efforts to do anything to get him out of office. Pushing a coup for "mental deficiencies" is a dangerous game. Most politicians are egomaniacs.

How paranoid does it sound to allow the IRS to target your political enemies? Does it seem 'sane' to blame a "vast right-wing conspiracy" as the reason your husband lied under oath? What if the President is so OCD and controlling that he insists on personally writing the schedule for the White House tennis courts? What normal person would think it is OK to give guns to known criminals in an effort to prove guns are dangerous? Are any of these examples of rational thought?

Once we start down the road of palace coups we have descended into the dark days of the Roman Empire or a Banana Republic; changing leaders on a whim. Once the 100 Presidents-in-waiting in the Senate, the shadowy Praetorian Bureaucracy, the keepers of secrets, and want-to-be power-brokers in the press learn they can control the government at whim we are done as a nation. More simply, payback is hell. 79 AD was the year of four Emperors in Rome, and thereafter the top spot was controlled by whomever could gather a ruling coalition. Tyranny was the order of the day. and with few exceptions, the Emperor had to exercise his ruthless power to remain in control. The concept of a benevolent dictator is fantasy.

That said, anyone who thinks Mike Pence is dumb enough to commit political suicide by invoking the 25th Amendment is delusional themselves.

It is the height of malpractice for any physician or psychiatrist to diagnose publicly a person they have never met or interviewed. Since I do not have a medical licence of any type, I will say any medical professional who does so manifests signs of Trump Derangement Syndrome and anything she says should be discounted as pure ravings.

No sane person would trust the treatment of cancer or a heart disease to an Internet quack, and we should not trust the health of our nation to a partisan hack either. 

It is not Trump, nor Obama, nor Hillary, nor any other politician that is a danger to the Nation, it is the unreasonable reaction of the other side. The election is over. You get a do-over in three years. It is time to tone down the rhetoric before we head down a road we really, really, do not want to venture.

Women want me, men want to be me

One more day of seasonable winter weather then we get a couple of days in the 50s. Yes, I wrote 50s. It was subzero just a few days ago. Crazy. I blame it on global warming, climate change. What a great theory, no matter what happens with the weather you can claim it was caused by burning evil fossil fuels: cold, hot, dry, wet, stormy -- all because of living a modern life. Of course the climate Chicken Littles do not have an answer on how solar panels will keep us warm when it is cloudy for weeks at a time or how windmills have to be shut down if it blows too hard or how neither can generate enough power when the grid is maxed out by home furnaces battling -20 outside temperatures. If the Climateers were really interested in a safe environmentally friendly power source they would be out pushing for Nukes. We all know that is not the agenda at all.

Since it was just a shade above freezing yesterday evening I took advantage of the "warm" weather and threw a couple of chicken breasts on the grill. Later, while the wife was doing laundry, I bowed to peer pressure (her whining) and baked a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. I even washed up the mess afterward. I still don't understand why I am not on the cover of Good Housekeeping, or Perfect Man, or People magazine. Plus, I know the words to the National Anthem.

Clearly, I too am Spartacus a Stable Genius.

Swamp gas

Through the '90s and early 2000s I travelled to Oregon between 4 and 8 times a year. I still remember  the first visit. I stopped at a gas station on US 30 near the airport. I got ready to fill up the rental car in anticipation of returning it.

"Get your hands off that" I was told by the attendant. I wasn't allowed to pump my own gas. He told me only trained attendants could fuel a car. I had been pumping my own gas since the late 1970's. I was unaware the procedure was dangerous or even difficult.

Later I learned that pumping  gas is remarkably difficult in New Jersey too, so there were no self-service pumps in the Garden State either.

Oregon has now allowed gas stations in towns with populations of less than 40,000 to offer self-pump gas. This raises some questions. Why are rural and small town denizens of Oregon better able and equipped to pump gas than their big city counterparts?  Why are the residents of the larger cities in the Beaver State unable to accomplish a task that nearly every American and most Europeans have managed to master? Or perhaps more appropriately, why do the politicians think the citizens are incapable?

I suspect we know the answer. Lobbyist money. The gas station and convenience stores are paying off the right people. Here in Indiana, beer is regulated by temperature. Only certain stores can sell cold beer. Grocery stores and convenience stores can only offer warm beer. Oh, and none can sell on Sunday. Who fights hardest against Sunday sales of booze? The liqueur store lobby. They see no reason to stay open seven days when they capture all of the available sales on a six day schedule. We Hoosiers all know if you want cold beer or a bottle you have to buy it Saturday. Similarly, I suspect enough Oregonian legislators have been persuaded by the petroleum dispensing organization to keep the "we gotta pump it" surcharge in place.

Yet somehow those same politicians will go home and tell the sucker voters how much he or she cares about he little guy. The swamp exists in places far from Washington DC.

Appleauce cake with burnt sugar icing

Temperatures are a balmy double digits this morning and it looks like we will crack above the freezing mark  for the first time since before Christmas later today. I dread my gas bill.

We watched my granddaughter last night. She was on, entertaining us the whole evening. She chattered nonstop. On the way to the testaurant she told me to "follow that car, Paw". Later she informed me I have to stop for a red light. When I told her that was a good thing for a 3year-old to know, she told me "Yeah, I a pretty smart girl[sic]".

In other news, I have nothing. I doubt you want to hear about my jock itch. I didn't win either of the giant lottery prizes, possibly  because I didn't buy any tickets.

Do be do be do, indeed.

I hope you have a great day.

I'll take 420 for $200, Alex

The last time I burned a doobie was more than three decades ago. The fact I use the term "doobie" probably says a lot about it. I was never a huge fan and usually only partook pot under the influence of alcohol. In other words, I don't have a dog in the legal marijuana hunt. I think pot leads to harder drugs as you search for that better "high".  I also don't see a big difference between smoking a joint and a downing a shot of whiskey.

I do think if California or Colorado or name your state wants to make smoking dope legal that is their business. It should not be a Federal issue. Washington DC doesn't get to dictate Indiana's archaic and ridiculous alcohol laws. I say legal pot is a good way to make tax money, it takes the black market out of the equation and ensures a safe transaction for all concerned. Soon the police will park outside marijuana stores ready to bust stoners as they jump behind the wheel like they do bars around here: another way to make revenue for the local and state coffers. Everybody wins. More importantly, this is a 10th Amendment issue.

Maybe Jeff Sessions should spend his time rooting out the corruption and partisanship at the DOJ and FBI instead of wasting time reinventing Prohibition and Elliot Ness teams to smash apart greenhouses.

On a more cynical note, if the Republicans want to stay in power long-term the millennial vote is more important than any minority group support. Be the party that legalizes marijuana nationwide and lowers the drinking age to 18 or 19.  Make the Democrats argue against it.  There I just earned my political consultant fee, send that big check my way as soon as possible.

Edit: title fixed to less demonstrate how unhip I really am

A World Turned Upside Down

Washington State is suing the Motel 6 hotel chain for providing guest lists to ICE (immigration) Agents. Suspected illegals have found themselves deported after checking in to the chain's motels.

In general, I abhor snitches and rats. That said, I am struggling to find fault with the clerks at the hotel. They had knowledge of illegal activity and reported it. If a clerk watched someone rob the McDonald's next door and then run into the hotel, shouldn't they report the suspect to the authorities? If the Motel 6 Manager sees a wreck in the street should they refuse to turn over their security tapes? If the college student stuck doing late-night desk duty sees grainy footage on the news of a convenience store holdup and thinks the perp is staying down in room 218, should she call the police? If one of the guests lacks documentation and appears to be an illegal, why shouldn't ICE be informed?

Some in our society seem to think that breaking the law is OK. If you come in to the country without permission or overstay your visa, you have broken the law. I do not care if you did it 5, 10, or even 20 years ago, you have broken the law. You have not paid income or FICA taxes. You have perpetuated the employment black market. You have stolen from the United States, and in this case, the state of Washington. If a law is wrong, then repeal it. Selective enforcement undermines the rule of law in general.

I am not arguing that we should have a wholesale deportation of every illegal. I blame those who hire them and those who make it easy and attractive to come here and survive illegally.  I think there is an opportunity to forgive those who came here, worked hard and want to become Americans. Substantial fines and a willingness to become American citizens is a path to avoid deportation. The flip side of that coin is identifying the employer who cheated you, me, and America by hiring that illegal guy or girl under the table. For that company, I have no leniency in my heart. They have provided unequal competition to their competitors who played by the rules, paid the taxes, provided the benefits as mandated by the various governments. I think a minimum fine of $100,000 for each and every illegal hired would be a good starting point.

In the meantime, maybe Washington should look into punishing the real law-breakers, not those who report them.

Blah blah

I will get it out of the way quickly; it is cold. It is cold at your house too. If not, I don't want to hear about it. We won't get any weather from the storm of doom off the East Coast. There is that.

In other news, nuthin'. Things are boring around here. I'm just coasting until baseball starts for real in three plus months. Sigh.  The excitement of the day is deciding what to have for supper. Maybe we will have breaded pork tenderloins tonight. If I remember to get them out of the freezer. Too bad the rest of the world ignores this regional classic comfort food. More pork for me!

It is becoming clear the previous administration conspired to take out Trump.  It is equally clear life in the current administration is a soap opera. Trump may just be as paranoid as Nixon ever was. Can't anyone get that man off the interwebz?

Stay warm my friends.

Please sir, draw me a sheep

Today is a holiday according to my work calendar. I slept in, at least compared to my usual schedule. It was -12 F when I got up -- real temperature, not imaginary "it feels like" temperature. A buddy commented that it is so cold the white trash girls are wearing two pairs of pajama pants to WalMart.

It looks like another day reading, watching TV, and staring out the window. I don't mind going for a walk in the cold, but it has to be above "you can get frostbite or die" kind of cold. Of course, I wouldn't die. That warning is for the potential Darwin award winners out there who do perpetually stupid stuff.

Weather extremes remind me why humans are the predominate creature on this planet. We are remarkably adaptable. We can survive in a wide range of temperatures from bone chilling cold to numbingly hot. We thrive in deserts and swamps. We live in mountains and prairies. Not the fastest of animals, we can run for hours on end. A man can run a horse into the ground. Man is cunning and despite our veneer of civilization, surprisingly vicious. Man can eat nearly anything, including our fellow man, in a pinch. Whether you credit an infinite Supreme Being, Mother Nature, or random genetic mutation, Homo Sapiens is adaptable. I could fly from freezing weather to overheated tropics today with no ill-effects at all.  There is a reason we are at the top of the food chain, the true King of Beasts. I am willing to prove it if anyone wants to send me to the tropics. I can name some Caribbean Islands that would suffice as proper testing grounds.

 Further evidence of our exalted status as top predator: it is cold outside. I could go out and survive, but I don't have to. And I won't. If your supposedly smart dolphin manages to get stuck on the beach, he cannot get himself back into the ocean. An African lion would perish on Greenland. I sit in my temperature controlled office drinking coffee. There it is.

Heavy thoughts for a ... Tuesday. Have a good day.

A New Beginning

Best wishes for a happy New Year, readers.

Things are starting on the cold side here. Currently it is -8 with a wind chill of -23. The furnace seems to be on permanent run mode. At this time it does not appear that any pipes are frozen. Based on a quick view of the weather I suspect it is cold at your house too.

The Colts fired their coach yesterday. That happens when your star quarterback fails to take a snap all season and the former GM whiffs on first round picks four straight years. Coaching has something to with it too. There is a problem when an idiot like me can call the upcoming play with regularity. The team started the first play in each half with a running pay (usually to the right of the center)all but one or two games the whole season. 

The inside Christmas stuff is coming down today. The outside will have to wait until the snow melts. I have a strange reluctance to climb up on a snow covered porch roof to bring down the lights and wreaths on the second story. 

Have a great day.

So long '17. I would like to say I hate to see you go, but...

I have never been big on the end-of-the-year recaps.  I have mentioned this has been a bad year. But that does not mean I do not have plenty of good in my life.

I fully expect to begin 2018 the same way I have celebrated the previous 38 New Years - with a kiss from the love of my life.

Best wishes for the Happiest of New Years
If you drink, don't drive. Be careful out there tonight.

a world I never knew

Speech was a required course in my high school and the “look at me” aspect of my personality adapted well to speechifying. I found the class an easy ‘A’. So my senior year I found I had just about enough credits to graduate if I took four classes a day. Besides the required Government/Social Studies class I took stuff I enjoyed: band, English, French, and though I did not need another class I took advanced Speech.

We covered a range of subjects in the class from debate to Roberts Rules of Order to various types of speech to acting. The class was small, maybe a dozen kids and sometimes we just discussed the events of the day. We learned to communicate. I probably enjoyed that class as much as any in my public school days and that speech class forced me to break me out of my anonymous shy boy shell.

One day the teacher brought in a box set of albums. It was recordings of Lenny Bruce. The teacher tried to give the historic background to Bruce’s comedy. But in the spring of 1980 the comedy was too cerebral, to East Coast, too dated, and had lost the edge it had in the late 1950’s. It wasn’t crude nor risqué compared to contemporary SNL or comedy of National Lampoon.  I just didn't find it funny. The school administration also likely would have even less than amused had they known Mr. Henderson was playing records with curse words to 17 and 18 year-olds at school. Still, it exposed kids in a hick farm town in  the middle of nowhere Indiana to a wider world. Isn’t that the point of education?

Get over it

A pathetic guy started screaming at the animatronic Trumpster at the Disney World Hall of Presidents as part of the “resistance “. I wish this was the setup for a joke. He proudly tweeted about it. I’m not sure if I would brag about this epic level of stupidity. Over 800 people liked his tweet.

The Grouchy Old Cripple has often said liberalism is a mental disease. I’m beginning to think he is right.

I thought that was March’s thing

Remember when December started unusually mild? We had temperatures pushing 70 at the beginning of the month. Mother Nature likes to bat for average, so now we are seeing a spate of very cold weather to even things out. It is not just the month of March presenting us with the lamb/lion motif. Looking ahead at the forecast, the new year is slated to start off with bone chilling cold:  highs around here will barely inch above zero. Guess what? It is winter, it gets cold like this every year.

In other news, there is no other news. The Colts will wind down their dismal season Sunday. The politicians are home, doing no harm. Serious electioneering a few weeks away for the 2018 primary season.

Here at the homestead I am ready to strip the house of the Christmas decorations. We normally go from Thanksgiving to New Years. This year, I was ready to be done with it on the 26th. We have two invitations to hang out on New Years. I don’t really want to go anywhere. I’m ready to put this year in the past. I’m trying to moderate my language these days, but I can only say good fucking riddance to 2017.

Why yes, I have a bad attitude about everything these days — work, weather, the holidays, politics, life in general. You may be shocked at this clear departure from my usual sunny disposition and positive outlook on things. Maybe more coffee will help improve my attitude.

I doubt it.

Five below zero

...is what the weather app describes the outdoor temperature this morning. The wind chill is -17. Fahrenheit is the scale. In other words, it is darned cold. To put things in perspective, it would be warmer to crawl into my freezer than to go outside. It is that cold. While I am back to work today, I am glad I don’t have to hit the road this morning.

Sparring with my inner demons on Boxing Day

Good morning, readers. I hope you had a great Christmas, Festivus, holiday, or long weekend. We had a great Christmas here at the old homestead. On Christmas Eve we celebrated with extended families and on Christmas Day we went to my daughter’s for dinner. I raked in some nice gifts. Apparently, I was a much nicer boy this year than I thought.

I ordered my wife some Ugg slippers from Amazon. It is the only thing she requested specifically. Either I ordered the wrong size (I don’t think so) or they sent the wrong size. My fair spouse does not have large feet, but these slippers were obviously made for someone who practiced the ancient Chinese art of footbinding. They are tiny. We will have to figure out how to return and exchange them this week.

It is a chilly ten degrees outside this morning with a subzero windchill. I have no intention of going outside, so it does not matter to me. Inside, the thermostat is set to a comfortable 69. (Hah! He said 69). I will admit it is cool here in the recliner next to blogging room window. We still have the original windows from when the house was built in the early ‘90s. All it takes is money to have them upgraded to more energy efficient models.

I have the day off work, so goofing off is on the schedule today. Maybe I can get the wife to go see Star Wars with me. Probably not.

Have a great Tuesday

I spent Christmas in the hospital

I asked the wife what she wanted for Christmas. She said to get something that would make her look sexy.

I went out and bought a case of beer.

Merry Christmas

My Backyard 2016

Merry Christmas to you and your family

--Joe

The reason for the season

My favorite

Ding dong ding dooong

New day, same story. It seems I am destined to get up at 4:30 or so every day. Whatever. I’m not gonna cry about it.

The fairly heavy rain that is now falling is slated to turn to snow in the next hour or so. The ground is soggy and warm, so we shall see if it sticks. Heavier snow is in the forecast for tomorrow. We might get a couple of inches. I can live with that. A white Christmas would be nice. Vermont should be beautiful this time of year with all of that snow. If you don’t get that reference you outta spend a little more time watching old movies. Sheesh.

I have all of my shopping done. The wife has a couple of things to get for the family gift exchange. I get gifts for one, she gets the rest. That seems like a fair division of labor to me! I have to wrap my gifts still. I might go drop in the DVD of Ed’s favorite Christmas movie and reflect upon my wonderful life when I’m done writing this riveting post. I’ll let you know when I make up my mind.

Or not.

Have a great Saturday. Oh, and for the record, a canned post will follow this live one later today. Sunday and Monday’s efforts are also canned*. No fresh Christmas content for you. I don’t feel bad about it. You should spend your time with someone besides me on Christmas, as crazy as that seems. So let me offer up a live and hearty Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays to every one of you.



Update:

*edit. For reasons I won’t divulge I was perusing my writings from a December 2016 and discovered that my holiday posts for 2017 are the same as last year. Whoops. I guess my memory really is getting bad. Sorry about those repeats. Well, sorta, I don’t feel bad enough to redo my lame efforts. You will get over it. Mostly.

Focus is more than a model of car

I have been playing the Elevate brain training app for a while now. It helps improve your memory and focus, with games centering on reading, writing, speaking, math, and listening. The games are quick and fun and it only takes a few minutes each morning to play the three random daily games you get with the free version. Some of the games I like better than others. I find the “Visualization” game in the reading module incredibly easy (I’m in the 99.99 percentile on that one) and some of the math games incredibly hard (I hate you fractions).

I do very well in Reading, Writing, and Speaking. Math and Listening; not so well. I told my wife my scores the other day and she was in no way surprised that my listening scores were even lower than my math scores. Then she said something else, but I confess I wasn’t paying attention.

I noticed a trend the other day in the game’s scorekeeping methodology. I am close to reaching the next level in Writing. If I have a good game score (excellent or great) I inch one or two points closer to the next level. If I have a bad score, I slip 10 points further away. The rewards are small, the punishments large.

Mostly I started this training app because hypochondriac me was worried my memory was going. I was granted one gift at birth, an extraordinary memory. In the last decade or so I found my ability to recall slipping. I knew the Jeopardy answers, I just couldn’t get them out fast enough. My Elevate memory scores are very high. I guess it is just age. The synapses don’t fire with the same alacrity. Perhaps the file cabinets in my brain are so full of “stuff” it just takes longer to find the right fact in the right file. Maybe my memory is failing. It could be I’m just sliding from “excellent” to “above average”. I had another point, but I cannot remember what it was.

I’m not going to share my scores. It is embarrassing.

Try, try again

That other post is gone. The Nazis at the NFL will not let me post videos that tout their product. Now there is a valid reason to kneel in protest. Not during the Anthem, though.

Instead, since I’m feeling chatty, here is some more classic Christmas music. You will listen — unless you hate puppies and kittens and gentle butterflies. Do it for the children.

Shortest or longest?

Today marks the solstice. The weather reader told me today will be the shortest day. In fact, today will be some nanoseconds over 24 hours, just like yesterday.

Yes, you in the back? Uh hum. Yes. Oh, the hours of daylight are the shortest of the year. I see. The almanac indicates we will have 9 hours and 21 minutes of sun today at the old homestead, cloud cover not withstanding. So for me, today does make the “shortest day” of sun and the first day of winter.

Like most things, this is all a matter of perspective.

If you lived at 40 degrees of latitude south instead of north, today would be the first day of summer and the longest in terms of the hours between sunrise and sunset. Of course, most of the 40th degree latitude south crosses ocean, except for a couple of islands of Tasmania and the tip of South America, so not many folks get to enjoy the height of summer in those regions. By most mariner accounts, the oceans are fierce and rough in the “roaring forties”.

What does all of this mean? Not much. This big blue ball we call home continues to spin on its tilted axis as it rotates around the sun. The weather will be seasonably warm today and cold over the weekend. It may snow. Winter is not coming, it is here. Tomorrow we can look forward to more minutes of sunlight as the days march forward to another spring.

Wednesday Wanders

I fried up some chicken for supper last night. Mashed spuds, gravy, biscuits, and corn rounded out the meal. I’m not sure why you’d care what I ate.

I am slouching towards the weekend and Christmas holiday. I think I might take a few days of vacation to get the whole next week off. It is not like any customer is going to talk to me. I usually use that dead period to clean up my files and such. I’m in pretty good shape this year. I could use the time to prospect; finding info on potential customers through the interwebz. I could save my vacation days and work.

I am not sure if we have ever been less prepared for Christmas. The good news is my daughter is hosting Christmas dinner, so I don’t have that to worry about. We just have to make some stuff for the pitch-ins at the extended family Christmas Eve functions.

We went to the granddaughters’s Christmas pageant at preschool yesterday. There is nothing more entertaining than watching the teachers try to get groups of 2, 3, and 4 year-olds to line up and sing. It is like trying to herd guinea pigs. The kids are cute and hilarious. The church had big video screens on the sides of the stage. My granddaughter spent most of the time watching herself not sing.

The wife is heading over to my daughter’s today to make cookies, candy, and treats. It will be an all day affair. Three generations of girls cooking and baking. They will have a blast. Keeping my granddaughter from dumping whole bottles of sprinkles or colored sugar on every sugar cookie will be a challenge. Like every kid, she loves sprinkles.

I have a tune from an old musical floating on the edge of my consciousness that sums up my mood today: coasting along. I just can’t dredge it up.  I don’t know if the song fragment is Desi singing in “The long, long trailer” or a Martin/Lewis flick, or a Crosby and Hope road adventure. It is just an undefined snippet about “cruisn’ along,  singin’ a song”. Hah! The internet knows all and sees all. The song is “Side by Side”.  Martin and Lewis covered it. So did Bing. That explains why both were rolling around in my brain pan.

I hope you have a great Wednesday.

Sigh

If you are here today expecting the normal fare — pithy commentary, juvenile humor, personal anecdotes,  complaining, weather reports that are irrelevant unless you live here, political rants and such — you are going to be seriously disappointed. To quote Willie Wonka, “you get nothing”.

Really, it is

I knew you were wishing I would post some Christmas music. Search your feelings. You know I am right. The Force told me so.

Really, it is OK if you quit me

3:30 rolled around this morning and I felt a figurative tap on my shoulder as my old buddy insomnia decided to stop by for a visit. Last month I fought a battle with an inability to sleep, but in recent weeks I was back to semi-regular sleep patterns. Not today! I wouldn’t mind if Mr. Insomnia decided to hang out with someone else for a while. We have been intimate acquaintances for most of my life. I’m ready to move on. So here I am catching up on Interweby-type stuff. My Echo is softly playing Christmas music in an effort to force me into the mood of the season.

I spent the end of the week in the general environs of the Windy City. The drive up Thursday and back last night were uneventful. I soldiered through the normal late afternoon/early evening creeping traffic at the 290 to 294 bottleneck and along I-80 to the perpetually-under-construction interchange with I-65. The History on Fire podcast kept me entertained up and back with the four Crazy Horse episodes.

My granddaughter turns 3 today. She is the lone bright spot in an otherwise gloomy holiday season. For the first time in my life I just want Christmas to be done. I normally love this time of year. This year I just cannot get in the spirit. 2017 has been such a miserable year. Death, finances, and general malaise have combined to rob the holidays of their magic.

Ah, you didn’t come here to hear me whine. I hope not. If you did, I seriously wonder about you. I have managed to kill almost two hours goofing on the internet. Two cups of coffee and a half of a peanut butter sandwich broke up the time. This pathetic post took far longer than my usual ten minutes to compose and peck out on the keyboard. Too bad the effort is not reflected in the results. I’ve said it before, you get what you pay for around here.

Enjoy your Saturday, I’m going to try and read myself back to sleep here in my old comfy recliner.

Office Christmas Party

The raging winds have finally died down here at the old homestead. The whole house was groaning and creaking last night as old Boreas did his thing. It is still seasonably cold, but the big willow out back has ceased to imitate the Whomping Willow of Harry Potter fame. The sun is rising in dull pink and gray hues out my office window. Unfortunately, the privacy fence that surround my back yard prevented all of that wind from dispersing the layer of damp, soggy leaves that still carpets the ground.

I’m off to the corporate office later today. The big office Christmas Luncheon is scheduled for the morrow  and a failure to make an appearance would be noticed when I am one of 15 employees.

The local remote location will probably hold its own Holiday Extravaganza next Friday afternoon. Heck, those festivities may last all day. Since I am the sole employee at this sales office and that location is a spare bedroom in my house, I can just play it by ear. If I have a few drinks and pinch the office cleaning girl on the rear and make a few lewd comments, she won’t mind. She’s my wife. She will probably give me ‘that’ look though. I’m used to her mild disapproval.

Out of excuses

Now what is Al “I will resign maybe, someday” Franken going to do? He was counting on Roy Moore to provide cover so he could stay in office. His “I’m not as bad as that guy” position is now moot. I have this image of Franken staring at a mirror last night mumbling “I’m valuable, people love me, I’m funny” repeatedly.

In all honesty, I am sure Franken is not even close to being the biggest turd in Congress. In fact, his antics are probably pretty mild in comparison. Grabbing a woman’s tush while taking a picture is juvenile, crude and certainly slap-worthy. I’d bet if one of those women had slapped him or their man punched him in the nose, Al “Fast hands” Franken would have stopped. I’m sure he thought he was being funny. That in no way excuses or condones his gropes, gooses, and grabs. Even an eight year-old knows better.

The whole situation brings to mind a sentiment I have long held regarding the political class; namely, is this really the best we can do?  My disgust with everything Washington and both political parties increases every day.

My side hurts

I received this spam email today:

Dear Sir/Madam,

I am indeed glad to be in contact with you even though this medium of
communication (internet) has been grossly abused by criminal minded
people making it difficult for people with genuine intention struggle
to correspond and exchange views without skepticism.  I got your
contact from the deceased disc-file record, then i decided to contact
you.

I have a business proposition for you Please get back to me if you are
willing to help please get back to me and I will send you a detail
mail.

Barrister Eedris Mohammed.

Unlike other spammers, he is not criminally minded.

I bet if I send him my bank info several million bucks will appear just in time for a Christmas.

hurry up already

64 days until pitchers and catchers report.

Be amused

Dear Democrats, Gimme a break

The Democrats and media (redundancy alert) are on their moral high horse talking how Al I didn’t really resign yet Franken “sacrificed” himself even though he didn’t really do anything that wrong. He is held up as the example of why the Democrats are pure and wonderful and red and blue sprinkles on a birthday cake. They respect women. Republicans don’t because some dude who hit on teenagers 40 years ago is running for office or something.

Again, just like with Hillary, the Democrats and media cannot grasp that a piece of crap human is still preferable to their candidate. Sorry to burst that bubble, but most Americans still find the idea that you can abort a baby right up to the time it is born repugnant. Many Americans don’t like Bernie Bro leftist economics.

More to the point, I refuse to be lectured by the very people who told me to shut up about Bill Clinton and excused and lionized and honored Ted Kennedy. Sorry, your sudden morality has the crackle of Confederate money.

Besides, what the voters in Alabama decide is not a reflection of the nation as a whole. John McCain certainly doesn’t represent me as a conservative, and Roy Moore won’t represent me either.

I’m sick of the whole resistance nonsense. Your candidate lost. Get over it. I know you are disappointed. I felt the same way in ‘08 and ‘12. Trust me — exactly the same way. Trump is not my dream President, but he is doing what I want done. He is appointing conservatives to the court. The economy is growing. The borders are becoming more secure. Check, check, and check. If he can find a way to cut my taxes and gut ObamaCare, I give him bonus points.

In the meantime, Democrats lecturing anyone on morality is the height of hypocrisy. I guess if you forego any moral standards you don’t have to worry about it. I fart in your general direction.

i miss those old commercials where Santa rode over the snow on an electric razor

Here we are, another Monday. I’m less than motivated this morning. Yesterday was a tough day. I don’t know where I am on the grieving chart, but it is what it is. Today I just don’t feel like working. That is rare, I cannot remember the last time I woke up and said “I don’t want to go to work today”.

Until today.

Worry not, I’ll suck it up. This time of year is hard. People don’t want to talk to a darn salesman anyway, and especially not at the end of the year when they are trying to work next year’s budget, get projects finished, and are looking to the holidays. I’d like to kick the guy who invented caller ID right in the rear. Except for on my phone, I hate those sales calls. I, on the other hand, have a valuable product my potential customers need. My situation is way different.

In other news, the Colts/Bills football game yesterday was a hoot. Total blizzard conditions left the players sliding and falling in the snow. Coaches needed to pull out the old 1920s playbook, the forward pass was an impossibility; especially in the first half. Of course the Colts managed to blow the game in true Colts inept fashion. The Indianapolis soon-to-be-HOF kicker told them he needed the ball on the right side of the field for a FG attempt. The Colts waste 40 seconds. They never try for a score. They don’t try to get closer. They do not even move the ball to the right hash. They do nothing, they never even run a play! So yeah, the kicker had no time to clean the half foot of snow in the kicking area and the horizontal winds were blowing from right to left, thus, he had to kick from the left. Missed. The defense rolled over in OT. Game Over. Another head-scratching coaching botch job. I’m not sure how they have managed to win 3 games.

A couple of weeks ago we were shopping for Thanksgiving groceries and found some nice Porterhouse steaks on sale for 50% off. I thawed them out yesterday and threw them on the grill. Steak, baked spuds and salad made for a nice Sunday dinner.

Have a great Monday. If I call you, pick up the phone. My boss is riding me and I need some new business. You need a few thousand spherical plain bearings don’t you?

Revisiting Old Swayback

I have always liked to re-watch favorite movies and re-read favorite books. There are some movies I have seen 20 or 30 times. A few books I have read multiple times. By “multiple” I mean at least five times or more. Occasionally, one of my favorite multi-read books turns into a muti-view movie. The old adage that mediocre books make great movies is often true. The book and the movie I’m about to watch may be a case in point. I was maybe 11 or so when I came across an old hardback version of In Harms Way by James Bassett. I had already formed a love of history at that point and the book fit right into my groove. I read it straight through. Only much later did I see the John Wayne movie version. Although there are some changes to the plot, I dig the movie too.

For the past several years, due to my frequently chronicled eye problems I was unable to read my old copy of the book. In fact, when we moved here in 2013 I sold and donated just about every one of my physical books since I couldn’t read the print. Instead, I relied completely on my Kindle and it’s adjustable font. I have some of my favorites, ones I just couldn’t bear to part with*, in a plastic tub in the back of a closet. I think Bassett’s book is in there. Now I don’t have to go dig it out, because when looking up links for this post I discovered  the old book is now available pretty cheap in electric format! I can read real books now, but it is far more comfortable reading on my e-reader. I just scored one of my favorite stories!

The point of this post was to discuss watching the movie this morning. I like to watch it this time of year. Now I may reread the book instead. Choices, sometimes they are a win-win.

*like my 30+ year-old copy of The Washing of the Spears.

Hear the snow crunch

Panic! The weather maven says we will get one to two inches of snow today. So far they have avoided complete SnowTeamScareTeam coverage: “so far” being the operative phrase. It is certainly cold enough. We shall see. I ain’t mad about getting snow. It is December and a little white stuff will offset the Christmas lights perfectly. Should we get a bunch of snow, my old sled is leaning on the porch as a Christmas decoration. I’ll have to take off the wreath tied to it and wax up the runners, but it is ready. All I’ll need is a decent hill and a body that is 25 35 40 years younger. Both are hard to find around here.

My boss sent a flurry of emails starting at 4:45 PM yesterday, all requiring a response. I know I ostensively work until 5, but WTH, it is a Friday. I know, I know, most of the working world doesn’t work from home and does not have that kind of flexibility to their schedule. I was still at it at 5:30. This was like getting called into a meeting 15 minutes before the end of the day to discuss stuff that could just as well been addressed Monday morning. Oh well, it is not like I had a hot date, or any plans at all. The wife was gone, so I just read until time to cook supper anyway.

I don’t think we have any plans for the weekend. The social director does not usually check in with me though until it is time to go, so it is quite possible I am just out of the loop.

A quick glance out the window shows — let me check — darkness. I do not see any snow yet. The old sled is safe for now.

Have a great Saturday.

You do know Al “ Fast Hands” Franken did not actually resign, right?

I suspect that If you are sleazy enough to grope strange women who just want a picture or to fondle a sleeping fellow entertainer,  it is not much of a stretch to imagine Franken will fail to actually “resign” in a few weeks. After all, he grabbed his seat after mysterious votes kept showing up in the recount. Embarrassment has never been a character trait of any politician. Hypocrisy is the motto of the Democrat Party.

Heck, in a year or two everyone, especially his colleagues, will forget this sordid moment, as long as he votes right. Kennedy killed a woman and was a Democrat icon. Byrd was a honcho in the KKK. Sleazeballs from both parties were in on the S&L fiasco. Remember the Keating Five? Say, didn’t one of those scuzzes go on to run for President?

The air in the Capital is so fetid, so corrupt, so lacking in honor, that nothing would surprise me.

Infamous

Three hundred and twenty

Unless I start cranking out meaningless posts* several times a day for the rest of the month, it appears I will fall short of 400 posts in a year for the first time in a more than a century. OK, since I started inflicting my worldview upon the interwebz in general back in ‘05. That inaugural year saw 481 posts in just nine months of blogging. That would equate to more than 600 posts in a year! I must have had a lot to say in those days. Maybe I just had more time?

As a point of order, it looks unlikely I will even manage to write the average of one post a day for 2017. Considering I was unemployed for a while, that’s pretty sad. Or not. It depends on your point of view.

My record of 544 posts in 2006, when blogging was at its height, seems more than safe. I have neither the time nor the desire to inflict myself on you that often.

Haha, this makes four six posts in two three days. I may make 365 yet!

*like this one

I’m sorry, so sorry

I often dwell on stuff in the past that cannot be changed: old actions, conversations, or decisions I did, said, or took. I don’t know why. There are certainly a slew of mistakes in my past. I have plenty of regrets. Is it strange to worry about things already in the past? I spend little effort worrying about the here and now, less on next week, month, and year. But I worry about the coulda, woulda, and especially the shoulda. Am I unique in this?

While not a planner per se, I am not overly impulsive either. In my youth I was more likely to do stuff on the spur of the moment, sometimes regrettable stuff, but no more than any other immature kid. For some reason I still waste time replaying that old movie about my past in my head, hoping for a different script this time.

Since the discussion has been a bit obtuse to this point, let me share a couple of examples.

I was walking along over the weekend, music droning in my headphones. Suddenly my brain replayed an argument I had with a parent back in my youth football coaching days. He didn’t think his kid was playing enough, blah, blah. I should have walked away. Why didn’t I walk away? Why am I worrying about it now, a decade or more later?

I have always been good a reading out loud. It is harder than you think, and listening to someone who is not good at it is painful. I honed the skill reading to the kids during story hour back when I was a librarian (a tale for another day). Last week, my daughter asked me to read a poem at the funeral. I mumbled over some words, paused when I shouldn’t have. I know I have excuses. The poem was emotional, the situation unbearable. I still read it through fine, but it sounded like I was reading it, if that makes sense. The personal emotions I was feeling doesn’t change the fact I wanted to do it right and didn’t. I redo that reading in my head every day. To what point?

My life is filled with regrets, great and small. The mistakes I have made are legion. I don’t know why I rehash them. Maybe God is sending a message that I need to really repent. Maybe there is something wired wrong in my brain, that I would prefer to live in the past. Maybe this post will be evidence in my future commitment hearing. Maybe I will delete it in a few hours.

I’ll likely regret that too.

I have questions

If Hillary had won the election, does anyone doubt Comey would have been the first guy shown the door? Seriously, is there any scenario where the FBI Director keeps his job?

Would Democrats be howling for impeachment over the Chief Executive firing the previous guy’s staff?

Shoulda coulda

Yesterday it was in the mid-sixties. In December. As could be expected with a warm front like that there was a high wind. Leaves were blowing from the pear trees like snowflakes. I looked at the backyard and knew I should have gone out and used the mower to chop them up and bag them. I looked at the trees and saw a large percentage of the leaves were hanging on to the limbs with a tenacious energy. Then a few phone calls for work, blah, blah and I did nothing. In all honesty, I didn’t really want to go out and do the work.

This morning the backyard is ankle deep in leaves — literally, not figuratively. Sigh. I console myself with the knowledge that had I mowed up the detritus yesterday the yard would still be covered fresh this morning. The trees are mostly bare today. Thanks wind.

Yesterday was shirtsleeve weather. Today it is in the 30s. It is not going to get warmer anytime soon. In fact, it is supposed to snow this weekend. Besides, I emptied my gas can and drained the mower for winter. Feeble excuses that in no way prevent me from using a rake. The front yard filled two large garbage cans and five bags. The backyard will take at least triple that. The bottom line is I’m in a lazy mood and don’t want to do it.

The wife reminds me I wanted all of these trees. Just because she is right doesn’t mean I have to acknowledge the fact. I’m trying to convince myself that all those rotting leaves over the winter will be good for the grass. Besides, one shouldn’t have to rake leaves around Christmas decorations.

I know, I know. If you are looking for me this afternoon, I’ll be out back, bundled against the cold, getting rid of the leaves.  Boy, I miss the days when you could push leaves into a pile and burn them up. That’s the smell of fall to me.

Addendum

Will any of you hysterical leftist Democrat types please explain how cutting your taxes takes money from me or the poor or anyone else?

How is letting anyone keep more of their own money related in any way whatsoever to how much money you do or do not have?

Since no spending cuts or reductions are included in the tax bill (see below), no one is losing out on anything, not welfare, not healthcare, not spending of any kind.

This bill is not killing anyone who was not dying under the current system.

If you state otherwise you are not just being untruthful, you are a damned liar.

I know chirp chirp chirp.

It is the spending, stupid

Look, I’m no genius. I’m as smart as the next guy, perhaps more intelligent than some. Certainly, when it comes to math, my practical knowledge is confined to algebra. A calculator or spreadsheet is my best friend when doing computations.

But even I know that as a nation we cannot keep spending like this. Tax cuts are great. I want one. You want one. But without spending cuts all we have done is ensure someone else will pay higher taxes in their future.

It is time Congress looks at spending. All spending, and that includes the military. The automatic spending increases have to go. Reducing a planned increases of 5% to an increase of 2% is not a “cut”.

Say you spent $100 on electricity last December and budgeted $130 for electricity this December. At the end of the month your bill was $115. You did not save $15. You spent $15 more than last year. You know it. I know it. Only someone in the fetid swamp of Washington would think they saved money on the electric bill, see it as an excuse to go to the casino and bet not only that $15 on red, but the $15 for each month they “probably” will save in January, February, and March and wonder what happened to that $60 they were going to use to buy little Jimmie that Paw Patrol set he wanted for his birthday.

And yes, that was a run on sentence and you should read it as an indication of my pissed rantings. I’m channeling my inner Lewis Black.

I don’t care if it elects 100 Trumps. I am never voting for an incumbent again.

this boring life

Here we are on a cold Sunday morning.

I didn’t accomplish much yesterday. I finished a good book. Try it, it don’t cost nuthin’. I went for a walk. I took a short nap. I watched a Bruce Lee movie. I watched a couple of cooking shows. We went to dinner, came home and watched some shows we had DVRed. I went to bed. Ho hum, ho hum.

I would like to describe some big Sunday plans. I cannot. I have the empty Christmas decoration boxes to put back in the attic. I will probably go for a walk — I need that exercise! I will tune in to see the Colts choke away another game. Maybe I’ll fry up some chicken or make a pot of chili for supper. I don’t know.

Anyway enjoy your Sunday.

Once more

Seeing that little boy in that tiny casket is an image that will be seared into my memory forever. The grief of my daughter and son-in-law was palpable. After an immediate-family-only viewing at the funeral home there was a graveside service. There were so many people there.

I was honored, along with the other grandfather, to be a pallbearer. The little casket weighed hardly anything and still felt like I was carrying ten thousand pounds.

The Hardest Day of my Life

Today is going to suck.

I’ve been to funerals. Never for a baby.

I won’t bore you with my personal woes after this. I just need a place to vent.

title

My oldest son is flying in today. I have not seen him since he moved to Colorado in early August. I wish it were under different circumstances, but I will be glad to see him. I miss him like crazy. He will jet back Friday evening after the funeral.

My daughter was rushed to the ER yesterday with extreme cramping. She had a large blood clot. She seems better now.

The week of fun continues.

I want to thank all of you from the depths of my soul for your kind words, prayers, and support. It means more than you will ever know.

5859

My grandson died today. I Barely got a chance to know him. I held him for just a few minutes. He spent his precious hours of life on this Earth with his parents, as it should be. I take little comfort in the knowledge he is now with God.

A rare twist of genetics left him unable to live for long once the cord was severed. He was a fighter. He held on for 20 hours or so. The doctors predicted only minutes. He only had one half of a heart, but it was a big one. That baby was a fighter.

I mourn for the grandson I will never know: the missed games of peekaboo with his Paw, playing catch with a ball, trips to the playground, watching him play sports, go to school, grow into a sweet boy, a man.

I mourn even more for my daughter and son-in-law. No parent should ever have to bury a child. Such a burden is beyond my understanding. I lack the vocabulary, the ability to describe the unmitigated misery they must have felt choosing a cemetery plot and making funeral arrangements for a baby alive and kicking in his Mom's swollen belly, knowing he had no chance at life. I honestly do not know how they managed to climb out of bed each morning.

I would trade places in nanosecond to ease the pain his passing leaves in the lives of his mom, his dad, his sister. There will always be a hole in their life. I have lived my life. Little baby Sawyer had no chance.

My grandson died today. I am in grief. I am desolate. I am at a loss. I want to cry. My wife is devastated. I have not the means to comfort her. My family is hurting and I don't know how to help them. That is my job and I am failing. We have know this day was coming for months, but knowledge does not reduce the ache.

This tragedy is repeated a million times a day around the globe. We are not unique. That is no comfort either. This pain is personal.

Life will go on. My granddaughter doesn't understand. She is looking forward to her upcoming 3rd birthday and Christmas. We all have to slip on a brave mask and artificial smile for her. She deserves it.

Tomorrow will be better. The day after also. Incrementally the hurt will become a dull pain. I don't think the heartache will ever disappear completely. I hope not.

My grandson died today.  I Barely got a chance to know him.

silver bells

I got the lights and wreaths and garland and stuff put up outside yesterday. The wife helped. I don’t do the garland or spread the wreaths like she wants it done. I’m good with that. She makes them look nice. I just want them up. As usual, about 1/2 the lights failed to work. I did not have enough to put around the patio door or to do the trees in the back. I don’t think the backyard will get the holiday treatment this year. No one can see the backyard except us anyway.

I got the lights up around the roofline. We were wrapping garland around the porch rail when I glanced up to see two sections of the lights had quit working. I admit I said a couple of curse words. Luckily, I had a new box to use. Back went up the ladder.

The inside is done, so we are set for Christmas, decoration-wise. Decorations have sprung up around the neighborhood, it looks rather festive. Now we just have to get some presents to put under the tree.

Have a great Saturday.

What? Sure, I will post a holiday classic, since you asked:

Like the man said

Let the season begin!

No, I will not be shopping today.

Yes, I will finish putting up the decorations today. The inside is mostly done. I will get the outsid lights up this afternoon since it is supposed to be in the fifties.

Dinner was great yesterday, food family and festivities. My granddaughter was on, entertaining everyone.

The wife and I cleaned up the mess after everyone left. We went to see a movie afterward.

Have a great Friday.

I have plenty to be thankful for...

Best wishes for a Happy Thanksgiving.

Thank you for taking time from your busy day to read my blog. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.

I have lots to be thankful for this year.

Right now I’m up hanging out with my turkey. Ok, I was up anyway. She is taking a cold water bath just to make sure her inerds are thawed before I rub her big old breasts with salt and smother them in melted butter before baking.

Early this afternoon my  immediate family will gather here at the old homestead (minus my oldest son who is a thousand miles away). The normal Thanksgiving fare will cover the table: turkey, noodles, mashed spuds, candied yams, green beans, mac&cheese, rolls, gravy --  a veritable carbohydrate extravaganza. Your menu may vary.

What are you doing reading this crap?  Go spend time with your family, watch a parade or football game, read a book. Take a break from the interwebz today.

A peek behind the Wizard’s curtain

Sinatra is crooning softly in the background. It is early. I complained about that yesterday. There is no point belaboring the subject. It just is. The boy and his dog are asleep in the bedroom adjacent to my office. The wife sleeps restlessly down the hall.

Yesterday the boy was at work. The wife was visiting a friend. I was ensconced in my office, or maybe putting some boxes in the attic, or perhaps on the patio smoking a short cigar in the weak winter sun. I don’t know where I was, but at some point my daughter stopped by and left some cookies on the counter. They were just there — a paper plate of snickerdoodles. I don’t know how I missed her. It is a good thing it wasn’t a cat burglar. Does anyone under the age of fifty use the term “cat burglar”? It brings to mind Cary Grant and Princess Grace, not armed thugs breaking in at night to grab your wallet and TV.

I bought a couple of “smart” plugs. Now I can turn on a lamp or the Christmas tree just by telling my Amazon Echo to do it. Because who doesn’t want to control their house by voice? More importantly, I did it because I can. I dig technology and I look forward to automating more stuff. It would be awesome to say “make coffee” and a steaming mug is waiting downstairs. Suck it George Jetson. So what if evil Amazon is listening in to every aspect of my life as long as Big Brother turns on my lights, locks my doors, plays my music requests, and makes me coffee? We are under permanent surveillance anyway, I might as well make the technology work for me.

I went to the store last night to buy the stuff for Thanksgiving dinner. The place was pretty well cleaned out. I managed to get everything except crackers for the cheese ball. That is OK, I don’t like cheese ball anyway. That may not be true. I am 55 years old and have never tried a cheese ball of any variety. Never.  Don’t know why. Now it is a matter of hard-headed pride. I know it is stupid. I have eaten all manner of foodstuffs, but for some stubborn perverse reason I refuse to even try a rolled-up collection of soft cheese. I like cheese. But I won’t eat a cheese ball. I won’t start this Thanksgiving either.

I think I need more coffee. When does that automated coffee brewer arrive? “Hey Alexa, order me a smart coffee maker...” .

Who volunteers to sing me a lullaby?

I don't know what is going on. I have not been able to sleep at night. I cannot blame it on jet lag, I have been home for almost a week. Besides, I had issues sleeping while I was in China. In fact, my problems started before I even left on my business trip.

I am so tired, I fall right asleep. Then, a couple of hours later, I wake up. I manage to get back to sleep but wake up every hour or two until about four or five then I am up for the day. I fight sleepiness and exhaustion all afternoon and evening until I hit the bed, fall right asleep only to wake up a couple of hours later....

My sleep is marked by expressly vivid dreams, something I used to rarely have ( at least that I can remember when I wake up).

I am so sick of this pattern that I am seriously considering taking a sleep aid for the first time in my life. I have eliminated evening caffeine. I have tried staying up later and going to bed earlier, but I do not know what to do about the thoughts and worries that creep in as soon as the firewall in my brain is weakened by sleep and exhaustion. Poof, I am awake again.

I have always managed to get by on 5-6 hours of sleep. I have occasionally fought bouts of insomnia. Back in my graveyard shift days I was often up 24 hours at a stretch. Never have I had such a protracted period of sleep deprivation as I am experiencing now. I feel muddled and tired all of the time.

Enough complaining for this morning. I am sure this pattern will break soon. If not, I suppose I will just get used to it.

A foodie post

Go ahead guess the mystery meat

Hands down, this was the best thing I ate during my recent trip to China. It was even better than Peking Duck, my previous favorite. I had the Duck again this trip and it was excellent, but this dish surpassed the crispy duck skin. I will let you guess what it is in the comments. Feel free to embiggin, it ain't against the rules. No using search engines though. Besides, this isn't a stock picture from the interwebz, I took it myself as the dish was placed on the table. I ate this in a restaurant in Zouzhuang.

Speaking of food, I purchased a nice big turkey for our feast Thursday. I still have to get the rest of the dinner stuff, but turkey was on sale this weekend at Kroger. I saved almost 50% off the tag price. I know a certain blogger who would approve.

Yesterday was cold and blustery, perfect soup weather. I made a big pot of potato soup and some BLTs for supper. The tomatoes were the last from the garden. I brought them in green before the first frost and let them ripen on the counter. I will miss good 'maters until next summer.

Sorry about the blog

On occasion I indulge in pure narcissism and reread some of my old blog posts. For instance today I read about three years of old November posts. One thing is clear, both the quality and quantity of my efforts has decreased. I guess there is a reason I have about 1/10th the readership I enjoyed back before face-whatever and twit-verse took over social media*

I will blame it on multiple factors, I have used an iPad in recent years to blog and surf the interwebz and typing on the tablet is not as easy as on a real ‘puter. Plus, I have shared most of my old tall tales and adventures already. I have written more than 5,700 posts. I think we know each other now.

I enjoy reading old comments. Many of you have been here for a very long time. Some of the old readers are gone, your opinions and comments sorely missed.

As we head into Thanksgiving week I want to thank each of you for taking time from your busy day to read my drivel. I don’t know why you do, but I appreciate it more than you know.

I would like to be able to promise better, more interesting, funnier, insightful efforts going forward. I won’t make that pledge. You are going to get more of the same.

Sorry about that.


* am I the only one who hates that phrase?

wind in the willow: the bloggity version

It appears today will be most unpleasant, weather-wise. Blustery and rainy, it will at least be seasonably warm. The mix is just the kind of weather that spawns severe weather. Highs in the upper fifties today will be followed by a steep drop in temperatures resulting in a high Sunday in the 30s. Thus the windy conditions. It was just such a weather pattern that spawned a tornado that hit my neighborhood back In 1992 on, by coincidence, the weekend before Thanksgiving. In that event my house was spared damage but some houses and a gas station and hotel about a quarter of a mile away from me were heavily damaged.

The local professional football franchise is on a bye this week. I won’t have their pathetic play to complain about Sunday. I guess that opens up time to do some stuff around the house. Traveling two weekends in a row left plenty of things to do. I got the front yard raked of leaves on Thursday. I still have the backyard to do and today’s wind will shake more down. Besides, my neighbor hadn’t raked up her leaves, so they will end up in my yard. So it goes. I have the most trees on the cul-de-sac, so I co tribute to everyone’s workload. I am in no condition to complain.

That about covers it for a Saturday morning. Enjoy your weekend.

J’accuse

Remember when the Democrats, and leftists in general, condemned anyone who criticized Bill Clinton as perverts, focusing on sex? They ridiculed our repressive society and religion in general. It was a just a BJ, they would scoff. So what if Clinton was a person in power who waved his manhood at underlings. We were told to “lighten up you perverts”.

Skip ahead 20 years. Women suddenly “remember” events from 40 years ago and how they have been traumatized for life. Apparently every woman in Hollywood, in the media, in the workplace, at the mall, pushing a cart at Target has been harassed and/or sexually assaulted.

I have no doubt that many, if not most, of the accusations are true. Men are pigs. Men are assholes. Men are predators. Men are jerks. Men think about sex all of the time. Some of us are able to contain our urges. Some cannot will not.

That said, am I the only one who finds the current...hysteria....a little unsettling? Hypocrisy of the left aside, the whole atmosphere is a little reminiscent of a witch hunt.

Should I fear for my job, my marriage, my reputation, because back in 1977 I spent pretty much every minute of summer school Driver’s Ed staring at a girl named Nancy’s sideboob? And what about now, since four decades later I still remember her magnificent rack?

 Whoops, sorry.

I suppose that confession will get me reported and kicked off Blogger. That is three strikes against me — conservative  white  male. Hillary was right, I am deplorable.

I never thought I would long for the days where were focused on Russian Facebook ads.

Some days I really miss the Cold War. Back then we didn’t have to invent crisis to worry about.

Part of me wonders if my position here is very wrong. Women have been treated pretty much as objects for far too long. Caveman Curt probably tried to cop a feel in exchange a portion of his newly- killed saber tooth tiger. Things haven’t gotten better.

Those of the female portion of the species, or think they are, or want to be, or are just confused about their nether regions, should feel free to set me right in the comments. I have a suspicion that I am completely out of touch.

Still, I can’t help but think about the estimated 900 men, women, and children “witches” who were tortured and burned from 1625-1631 in Wurtzburg, Germany. It still feels like we are in the midst of a media and political witch hunt.

Maybe Bond, James Bond, can do it

The front yard is ankle deep in leaves. Yesterday was all rain and drizzle and I was tired. Today? I may try to get out and rake a bit. I had a conference call this morning, but I have nothing scheduled for the the afternoon. My forty hours this week is long exhausted if you count the travel time and being gone for twelve days.

I managed to sleep most of last night, so I should be back to normal by this evening. Fortunately, I have always recovered quickly from jet lag. Even so, I laugh at movies and books where the hero jets across oceans and goes right into action, never tired, never off-kilter, his body clock switching seamlessly. It doesn’t work that way. If there is a person who can do it, I have never met him or her.

Stuff I think

Why haven’t we seen a press release from UCLA announcing they have dismissed those three basketball players who managed to embarrass the university and America when they opted to shoplift while in China?

I don’t care how well they can dribble and shoot the ball, an honorable program would give those players the boot and the hell with the win-loss record.

Edit. Never mind

I’m baaaack

I walked in the front door around eleven last night. The total trip, hotel to home, was about 26 hours. I scored a aisle seat with an empty seat next to me on the long Shanghai to Toronto leg.

I went to bed around 12:30 and managed to sleep about 4 hours before getting up. I will be fighting sleep this afternoon.

Forgive me for not throwing up a meaningful essay today. Perhaps something will come to mind later.  I doubt you want to read any more semi-sarcastic travelogues.

I will leave you with an amusing anecdote. On Sunday we went to the Sun yat-Sen mausoleum in Nanjing. Like most places in China it was crowded. There were about a thousand school kids there (not an exaggeration). My colleague told me the kids were very excited. Most have never seen a “foreigner” (read round eye) before and found me way more interesting than a dead guy who died

school kids in their blue track suit uniforms

almost a century ago. I received lots of stares and embarrassed  giggles. After descending the stairs we were walking along the path back to the parking lot when one brave little guy, about eight or nine, had the temerity to actually offer me a shy “hello”. I gave him a hello right back. He ran thrilled back to his group chatting excitedly. My guide laughed and said the boy kept telling everyone “He spoke to me, he spoke to me”.

I am glad to give someone a thrill in life. My ego allows me to imagine that for the next couple of weeks the lad will be mentioned by his classmates: “Hey, remember that time Ralph spoke to that foreign guy”. In time the legend will grow to describe that we had a full conversation.

I have to admit, the whole thing made my day too.