Why the Russian invasion is so horrible

According to sources, Russia invaded the Ukraine with as many as 150,000 troops. The Russians crossed the border at multiple points. The world is appalled. Sanctions have been put on Russia. Americans are cheering the stiff resistance put for by the citizens of the sovereign nation of Ukraine.

The Biden Administration has allowed over one million illegals to enter the country in 2022. Those who oppose this invasion are called domestic terrorists by the President. 

I doubt further commentary on my part is necessary.

Breaking Memories

So yesterday my daughter took my wife to brunch for Mother’s Day. I got to tag along because. We went to a locally owned place in the county seat. After breakfast we walked around the square looking into shops and stores. 

Getty images

We wandered into an antique store and my daughter was looking at the Depression Glass. My mom had a nice collection of the stuff and my daughter has it now. 

My daughter was looking at a candy dish with a lid. She said she had that bowl, but hers didn’t have a lid. In that moment I had a memory I had completely forgotten. It was teenage me, all awkward and bumbling, bouncing off a coffee table, knocking off the green candy dish. And breaking the lid. I could suddenly remember just how angry my mom was with me.

“Well”, I told my daughter, “it used to have a lid”...

Happy Happy

 Best wishes for a happy Mothers Day to all you moms out there.

I miss you Mom

Crossroads, seem to come and go

I had a long political rant written and scheduled to publish this morning. I pushed it back to draft status. It isn’t that I don’t firmly believe what I have opined — I do. It is just the vitriol doesn’t settle this morning. 

I’m not sure why I persist with this blog. And no, that isn’t a plea for “I like your blog” comments. Don’t bother. It has never been more than self-aggrandizing navel gazing. We are all comfortable with that. I will readily admit my lack of effort shows. The truth is any more I would rather read the news than comment upon it. There you have it.

Released in February 1972 the Allman Brothers fourth album was a double LP consisting of live and studio recordings. The album was recorded with tracks including the late Duane Allman and some without following his death in October 1971. 

Melissa was actually written in 1967 by Gregg Allman, according to Wikipedia, and everything in Wikipedia is true. The song was included on the album as a tribute to his brother Duane, who said he thought it was Gregg’s best song.

I don’t know about that, but it is a great tune:

You are Welcome

Here I was, all set to write a post about the Battle of Puebla and a minor Mexican Holiday. You know the anniversary better as Cinco de Mayo. I started the research, wrote a few sentences and found myself...bored. If I find it boring, I know you will. So instead of writing about a major battle in a minor war in a foreign country, I will give you a dirty joke instead. And it is a dirty joke. Don't read further if you are easily offended. Most people who identify as a woman will be offended. Some men will be too.

I warned you. I do not want to see any “that’s gross, that’s offensive, you are a pig, top hats look stupid without tails” type comments.  Just do yourself a favor and stop here.

One evening a man was at home watching TV and eating peanuts.

He’d toss them in the air, and then catch them in his mouth In the middle of catching one, his wife asked him a question – and as he turned to answer her, a peanut fell in his ear.

He tried and tried to dig it out but succeeded in only pushing it in deeper.

He called his wife for assistance and after hours of trying they became worried and decided to go to the hospital.

As they were ready to go out the door, their daughter came homewith her date.

After being informed of the problem, their daughter’s date said he could get the peanut out..

The young man told the father to sit down, then proceeded to shove two fingers up the father’s nose and told him to blowhard.

When the father blew, the peanut flew out of his ear.

The mother and daughter jumped and yelled for joy.

The young man insisted that it was nothing.

Once he was gone, the mother turned to the father and said,

‘That’s so wonderful! Isn’t he smart? What do you think he’s going to be when he grows up?’

The father replied,

‘From the smell of his fingers, our son-in-law.

Star Wars Day

It is May 4 and that means it is the youngest granddaughter’s third birthday. She is most exited. She has asked for spaghetti for dinner, so her mom and dad are taking us all out for an Italian dinner tonight. 

In the meantime, I made a batch of Doughboy cinnamon rolls for breakfast and I think the wife is taking her to DQ for lunch. Unfortunately, I have a conference call so no Blizzard for me. 

She cracked me up yesterday. As she was heading upstairs, she turned around and sat on the step, then leveraged herself up to the next one. “What are you doing?” Asked my wife. 

“I’m being like Paw!” She happily exclaimed, crawling up the stairs like I did for months last year. I can’t believe she remembers that. 

I don’t know how we would have made it through the past couple of years without that little girl and her sister. Two happier girls never existed. I hope they stay that way.

Hyperbole Much

Just to cut through the hysteria over a possible Supreme Court ruling that will get rid of Roe v Wade, I want to point out that all abortion WILL NOT BE OUTLAWED. 

If the majority of voters in your state elect representatives that favor abortion, people in your state can kill babies as they see fit with whatever restrictions your legislators decide. 

Anyone who says otherwise is a liar. There is no alternative position. 

Look, my position on abortion has changed over the years. I’m personally very against it. Ultimately, I posit the decision is between you and your god or your conscious. 

I am more than a little disturbed by those who cheer for abortion, and react with glee when ultimately, a life is taken with by the procedure.  I guess I can accept it as a necessary evil. I find it hard to believe anyone can be thrilled they had it done. I will also say there is nothing sadder than an unwanted and mistreated child. 

And finally, in the interest of truth, can we just skip the lie it is “healthcare”? It is ending a pregnancy. That’s all. 

More: to those gnashing their teeth that overturning Roe would “upend decades of precedent”, didn’t Roe upend a century of precedent? Besides, that’s a silly argument. Brown v The Topeka Board of Education upended precedent too. Dred  Scott established precedent. Precedent is only an issue when the rule goes against your beliefs. 

Quick, get me a beer

A man came home from work, sat down in his favourite chair, turned on the TV, and said to

his wife, “Quick, bring me a beer before it starts.”

His wife looked a little puzzled but brought him a beer.

When he finished it, he said, “Quick, bring me another beer. It’s gonna start.”

This time she looked a little angry, but brought him a beer.

When it was gone, he said, “Quick, another beer before it starts.”

“That’s it!” She blows her top, “You bastard! You waltz in here, flop your fat ass down, don’t even say hello to me and then expect me to run around like your slave. Don’t you realize that I cook and clean and wash and iron all day long?”

The husband sighed.

“It’s started.” 

  

Locked up by the Ministry of Truth

I guess at some point I will have to decide if I want to keep blogging nonsense like the previous post, or wait until I’m shut down by our new Ministry of Truth. 

If I disappear, you will know what happened.

The same people who have created this new Big Brother department  are the very folks who claim people who believe like me are “threats to democracy “. 

You can cut the irony with a knife.

Why the Republicans aren’t moving immediately to make sure this terrible idea has ZERO funding escapes me. Make every Democrat stand up and publicly tell us why censorship and destroying the First Amendment is a good idea. I cannot write this enough: the First Amendment exists to protect the stuff we find most offensive. Why won’t the elected officials fight this government abuse right now? Nip it in the bud. The entire concept is chilling, scary, and an anathema to the very underlying concepts laid down by our Forefathers. 

I’m not surprised by the tepid response of our elected officials. Not really. All politicians want to control us. 

Makes me sick.

I am easily amused

 

Attention-Grabbing Title

Yesterday passed without much activity to note. In the morning I drank coffee and...IDK. I guess I read, watched TV, and perused your blogs. The wife went to a craft show. In the afternoon the youngest granddaughter came to hangout while her older sister went to a Tai Kwan Do competition. Afterward, we went with the girls to dinner. The SIL is out of town. 

After dinner the wife and I went to a movie for the first time in about 200 years. Going to the movies has always been one of the things we really enjoy doing together. Most of our earliest dates involved the theater and our passion for cinema never waned. Unfortunately, today’s movie offerings seem to lean heavily on comic book characters, a genre neither of us really enjoys. 

I saw the local cinema is having a special showing of The Wizard of Oz next weekend. I’ve seen the classic Judy Garland vehicle more times than I can count on my fingers, toes, ears, and nose combined, but I have never seen it on the big screen. It might be worth the ticket price to experience it. Plus warm popcorn...

On the way to the movies we heard the sad news Naomi Judd passed away. No doubt the daughter was the more talented, but Mom had an angelic voice and her harmonies were always just perfect. Pretty dang easy on the eyes too. 

On the Current President

Mom always told me if I don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. 

On the First Part of the Journey

We find ourselves alive and kicking on this cloudy Friday. I dragged out the mower and cut the grass yesterday evening. The lawn still has too many weeds, but it looks less shaggy. Finances the past couple of years precluded spraying for weeds or fertilizer, so the old lawn is looking rough. I don’t have the worst front yard on the cul-de-sac, but it is close. Paying to rid the backyard of the big limb from the willow* ate up this month’s lawn care budget, so it will be next month before we can do any treating. So yes, we are behind. 

It looks like a semi-rainy weekend. I still have cleanup and pruning to do outside. We shall see. 

I was up in the weed-choked flower bed hacking away with the string trimmer after mowing yesterday. Something moved beside my foot and in rapid sequence my brain said snake...chipmunk...no, baby rabbit. It was a tiny bunny, no bigger than a mouse. He scurried a few feet away and froze beside another cluster of weeds. I moved on, hoping I just scared him and didn’t actually hit him with the trimmer. I have no doubt he had siblings nearby. Later in the summer, when he eats the tomatoes from my garden, I will wish I had chopped him up. 

I don’t know why brain always defaults to “snake” when I’m startled. My reptile encounters are few. I’m still wet my pants scared of snakes though. 

Now, here is what you came for. Released fifty years ago this year, this song wasn’t originally on the “America” album. After the success of the single, the song was added and the album re-released to much greater success.

*the limb was about 30’ long and about 10” in circumference at the base. 

Well how about this one?

A bear, a wolf, and a moose fall into a trapping pit

After a couple of days with no food, the moose sees the wolf and bear whispering to each other.

The wolf turns to the moose and says

“Look, the bear and I are both carnivores. It’s been a couple of days without food. You understand, right?”

The moose says

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. But, listen before you kill and eat me, can I just ask for one last request? There is this birthmark under my tail that supposedly looks like a word, but I’ve never known what it says. Do you think you could take a look and tell me?”

The wolf says “Of course”

So the wolf and bear get close to the back of the moose and lift up his tail.

Right at that moment, the moose gets up on his front legs and kicks both the wolf and bear in the chest.

The wolf is killed instantly.

The bear is fatally wounded, and with his dying breath says

“I don’t even know why the hell I looked. I can’t even read.”

Teenager vs. Senior

 One Sunday morning, an old lady headed to church late.

Because she couldn’t find her hearing aid.

As she was late and did not want to be noticed, she sat in the back, next to a teenager.

The pastor began his preaching.

To have an example of what he was preaching, he asked,

“Everyone who has committed the sin of adultery, stand up.”

The old lady was wondering why everybody went quiet suddenly and asked the teenager what pastor just said.

He answered that the pastor asked of people who wanted mints to stand up.

Our nice old lady stood up, without a care in the world.

The pastor was outraged, he demanded to know why she had stood up.

To that, the old lady responded,

“I may be old and toothless, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy sucking one from time to time.”

unicorn farts and fairy dust

John Kerry says if the natural gas industry doesn’t go carbon neutral in ten years he “will deploy alternative sources of energy.”. Source

Just what those sources are and why we would withhold them for ten years is the mystery of the day. I imagine it is the same energy source that will power our military. Can we suppose it is unicorn farts and fairy dust? Chim chim Cheri. Maybe Mary Poppins or Tinkerbell can help us out. Are all climateers insane?

On what authority this privileged knucklehead presumes to make decrees is another question. I suppose he thinks he has the authority since he once served in Vietnam. 

I know this, we sure dodged a bullet when we refused to elect this blow-hard President.

Pain

I’m hurting. Not an emotional ache over bad people attacking Disney, that bothers me not, but physical pain. You name it - shoulder, back, legs. We took advantage of the nice weather to do a little a bunch of yard work. The wife picked up sticks and pulled weeds while I started taking out a bush near the corner of the garage. 

I cut off the limbs and when I got it down to a stump I dug around the root ball and started prying it up. The wife came to help dig and pry. You might remember I have a broken bone near the arch of my foot, so stomping on the shovel is not the easiest thing to do. Between us we got it out and the tap and spreader roots cut. We disposed of the bush and moved to the backyard.

A couple of years ago a decorative Japanese maple beside my patio was caught in a late freeze and partially died. I cut it down and put stump killer on it. Yeah, don’t waste your money on that stuff. We started in on that stump, digging away at the edges and cutting the roots. Amazingly, a tree maybe six feet tall with a trunk about four inches in diameter had massive roots. We are talking roots eight and nine inches in diameter! Not circumference, diameter. We cut, hacked, pried, chopped, and sawed that guy for most of the afternoon. We went through two sawzall blades. We broke the shovel handle. I swung the maul and axe so much my shoulder ached. 

That’s what it seemed like. Except it was two old people working away. Eventually we won out, the stump and most of the roots were dug out, cut away, or pulled. It took most of the afternoon, but we won. 

Next time I will rent a stump grinder. Who knew such a little tree had such deep roots? There is probably a metaphor there somewhere. I’m too tired to expound.

Chinese Generals are Laughing

Politicians say dumb things. I think it is because the second oldest profession doesn’t necessarily attract our best and brightest. Our current Chief Executive is a prime example. Yesterday he proclaimed he was going to spend billions to make sure our military was “green”. 

“I’m going to start the process where every vehicle in the United States military — every vehicle is going to be climate-friendly. Every vehicle. No, I mean it. We’re spending billions of dollars to do it,” Biden said. Source

Ponder that for a moment. There we are, the 1st Amazon Brigade and the 53rd Trans Assault Force heading for yet another war in some Third World Shithole. The Humvees and the all new Harvey Milk Tank are rumbling along when the batteries run low. The momentum stops while the Brigade Charging Sergeant seeks the best charging stations. There are none. 

While the commander takes this opportunity to inspect the soldier’s pink triangle Unit Badge for cleanliness, insurgents open fire. US Servicepeople return fire with our non-metal biodegradable ammunition. Strangely, the soft soy-based bullets just bounce off the attackers. 

As the enemy closes in, the Captain of the Rainbow Company curls in the fetal position. Zir blue hair tumbling from Their helmet, tugging Zir nose ring crying “You must respect my oneness, I’m unique, I’m special”. 

The after-action report blames the total loss on the need to transport extra batteries and places the blame squarely on White Supremacy and claims the rebels were in MAGA gear, so they did not fight by the rules. 

Spookybird

After a damp start, yesterday turned into a beautiful day. The afternoon was sunny and it warmed into the low seventies. We had a burger for a late dinner out. As we drove west on 146th street heading home, the setting sun painted the sky in hues of purple, orange, and yellow. Streaking contrails and wispy clouds made a scene fit for a photo. I didn’t take one. The photo view was spoiled by telephone poles, wires, and windshield. 

The weather chick consulted her Magic 8 Ball and decreed today would be much the same, with a few more clouds. Tomorrow is expected  to be perfect with sunny skies and eighty degrees. 

No, I have no clue why you would be interested in my weather. 

Yesterday was spent entirely with on-line meetings. So it goes. Post-pandemic things are different. It is so much easier to have on-line meetings. Now we have so many more of them. 

And yes, I say post-pandemic. We aren’t going back to shutdowns and masking up like cheap movie bank robbers. 

The Classics IV had a handful of hits from 1967 to 1969. Originally out of Jacksonville, FLorida, their first hit was Spooky. The band added lyrics to an instrumental by saxophonist Mike Clark.

Do you think the guys from Classic IV knew the musicians from that other Jacksonville band that started in that era and collectively  jammed on Freebird? 

Me neither.

Buffalo Hunting

A hunter went out to hunt for buffalo.

To help him, he hired an Indian Scout.

The two of them set off on their journey to find buffalo.

After riding a while, the Indian gets off his horse, puts his ear to the ground and says

“Humm, buffalo come.”

The soldier scans the area with his binoculars but sees nothing.

He is confused and says to the Indian,

“I do not see anything, how do you know buffalo come?”

The Indian replies,

“Ear sticky.”

Stop. I know you laughed.

Hmmm

Colin Kapernick says he just wants a chance to play football.

Why isn’t he trying to play in the USFL to prove he can still play? 

Makes me wonder if it is about football or trying to make a different point. 

Of course, I’ve been know to be occasionally skeptical.

Start of something wonderful

Today marks the true start of the Revolution and the birth of America. July Fourth just formalized things.

Paul Revere’s Ride

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, “If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,
Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light, —
One, if by land, and two, if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm.”

All of it Here

So as April 19th dawned, the Militia grabbed their guns and formed up on Lexington Green. The British killed and wounded a handful before marching on to try to capture the cache of weapons reported to be stored in Concord.  At Concord, beside the old North Bridge, the militia joined against the Lobsterbacks again. 

This time the British were routed. The King’s troops were harried all the way back to Boston. 

In subsequent weeks and months the Rebellion went to full Revolution as other colonies joined in and sent troops and materials.

You know the rest. 

At least you should. I will add, if you have never seen the first few episodes of Ken Burn’s Adams, you ought to try and find it pronto, even if you do not think you like history.

The word I am seeking is “disgust”

The littlest granddaughter was on to something when she showed up to the Easter Egg Hunt here at the homestead wearing her snow boots. She didn’t need them yesterday, but the ground is covered with snow this morning. I am shaking my head while looking out the window at the still-falling white stuff. I believe the word I am looking for is “disgust”. 

We had a great Easter. We went to my daughter’s for brunch. Later the group moved to our house for the aforementioned egg hunt. I cooked up a nice dinner of ham loaf, potato casserole and green bean casserole for me and the wife. I drug out the good china and we ate at the dining room table just because. 

The rest of the day I...and I...yeah, it was that kind of day. 

He Has Risen

Remember, it is not about the bunnies or colorful eggs.

Please don't bother tryin' to find her She's not there

I’m glad we have that global warming thing going as a fairly cold spring rumbles on. Temps are expected to hover in the fifties for a while yet. 

Did you see the video of Brandon trying to shake hands with no one after a speech in North Carolina? Some offered scorn and derision. I found it remarkably sad. He wandered the stage before finally finding the stairs. 

I had the day off yesterday. I wasn’t as productive as I should have been. I ended working a bit. I went out for Chinese food for lunch and pretty much did the couch potato thing the rest of the time. Oh wait, I did cut down some mulberry tree shoots and spray the outside for ants. I also put some weed killer on the emerging dandelions. Of course killing the weeds in my front yard would leave pretty much no green at all! My yard likely needs professional help. Lawn services were one of the first expenses cut during the great low period. 

I think we are meeting...hold on.

Sorry, I had to see what that racket outside was. Seems the neighbor is getting a new roof and the tear off of the old one has started. It is just after 7 AM on a Saturday!

I think we are meeting some friends for dinner then they are coming over for some Euchre this evening. Fun and laughs are on tap. 

I guess I’ll leave you with some music that echoes a Biden’s search for a handshake partner:

I’m counting on you to not rat me out

Look, no one likes a snitch. If that is your MO, leave now. I’m serious, if you ever volunteered to be a hall monitor, you ever told on Tommy for goofing off when the substitute teacher was there, if you ever ran to Mom to tell on your sibling, I do not want you to read this post. I don’t need a fink around here.

I had to get rid of the tattletales. I don’t need anybody running to the boss.

You see, I’m posting this while I am supposedly attending my online Monthly Sales Meeting. I’m online, I’m half-listening, but I’m also doing other stuff. Like typing this post. I could be doing other real work, but that takes my full attention. Blogging? Not so much.

Yes, I know, you can tell. You come over and do the blogging if you think you can do better. 

I returned from the Motor City late yesterday afternoon. I was ready to be home. I’ve slept in my own bed twice in the past thirteen days, counting last night. 

The good news is tomorrow is an official company holiday. I have the day off. The bad news is I’m probably going to have to work, at least a little bit to get some deadline projects finished. I also worked about four hours last Sunday to do stuff that slid while I was on vacation. So it goes. 

Have a great Thursday. Remember, loose lips sink ships. Mum’s the word. Snitches get stitches. No one likes a tattletale.

Bond, James Bond

 James Bond walks into a bar.

He looks around, and takes a seat neat to a very attractive women.

He gives her a quick glance, then causally looks at his watch for a moment.

The women notices this and asks, “Is your date running late?”

“No”, he replies, “Q has just given me this state-of-the-art watch. I was just testing it.”

The intrigued women says “A state-of-the-art watch? Whats so special about it?”

Bond explains “It uses alpha waves to talk to me telepathically”.

The lady says “Whats it telling you now?”

“Well, it says you are not wearing any panties.”

The women giggles and replies, “Well , it must be broken because I am wearing panties”

Bond smirks, taps his watch and says,”Bloody thing’s an hour fast”

Essential Information

No matter what you might suspect, I ain’t dead. I’m at a sales training in the Motor City. I passed the course and now am prepared to meet the world. 

I will spend some time in the office tomorrow, then I will brave the highways, dodging Prius drivers and their antics, as I motor my way homeward. 

It has been a good trip in that I have finally met my colleagues in person. I think I am working with a great bunch of guys. 

In other news, nada.  Have been busy, busy. I might catch up next week.

Hayduke’s Heritage

Sigh. I was going to throw up a typical Sunday light-hearted post. You know the routine - weather, what I did over the weekend, music video, perhaps a comment on a Holy Week, closing. Instead, I read a news article that leaves me mildly angry.

Adbusters, whoever they are, is urging leftists to go out and let the air out of the tires of any SUV they find. No, I won’t link because I do not want to encourage anyone to do this. Sure, they are urging the environmental terrorists to target wealthy neighborhoods, but rampaging commies think everyone is wealthy. The stated aim is to make owning an SUV inconvenient, so we wake up to the impending doom of climate change. 

Do you think vandals are going to take the time to let the air out or put a BB or gravel in the valve stem when an ice pick or knife slash is so much more effective? Make it really hurt. 

I propose we get rid of lead from the environment by putting it into the bodies of any jackanapes flattening tires. Are you committed enough to saving the planet to die for your cause? I won’t pull the trigger, but if this becomes a fad, someone somewhere* will get shot attempting it. Do these idiots recognize that it is the very neighborhoods they are targeting that have ubiquitous cameras recording everything outside their house? Do you think suburban judges, who likely have SUVs themselves, are going to accept the argument this act isn’t vandalism because nothing was permanently damaged? 

If this becomes a “thing” ** then I will personally assume anyone driving an electric car is responsible and act in kind. Let’s all make the tire stores and tow truck operators wealthy. 

Geez. What a world. When I was 18 I thought the Monkey Wrench Gang was funny. Now I have grown up and hate every character.  I think environmental terrorists are perhaps as evil as religious ones. 

* Texas, Florida, or Georgia is my guess

** the same people who find this challenge worthwhile are the same bunch who thought eating a Tide pods was a good idea not too long ago.

Drivin’ All Night, My Hands Wet on the Wheel

What a miserable drive. It took twenty hours to go right at a thousand miles. It took just under 15 hours total to get to Florida last Friday night/Saturday morning. Coming home yesterday, u-g-l-y. I don’t know why either. There wasn’t construction. Just heavy traffic driving like idiots. We would cruise along at 75 mph for five miles or so, then all three lanes would just slam on the brakes and we would crawl at 5 mph for five miles or so. Then, for no reason, everyone accelerated up to 75 again. All Day Long. It took five hours, counting lunch, to just clear Orlando to Georgia. We left at 11:00 am yesterday morning and pulled in the driveway at 7:15 am today. 

Since we didn’t plan on an all-nighter, we didn’t arrange our sleep shifts. I ended up driving most of the way, with a sleep break from Atlanta to just past Knoxville. 

Backstory: the daughter rented a house in Mickey Mouse Town and invited us to stay. We had a great time hanging with the grand girls and the kids. We swam, drank some beer and Pina Colatas. I smoked a couple of stogies on the front porch. Yes, we went to Evil Political Disney. The tickets were bought back in a February and I sure wasn’t willing to give up that kind of cash in a political protest. Besides, the girls have been looking forward to going for months. Two and seven year-olds don’t care about a Florida law or LGBQRSTUV protests. 

The weather was mostly great, warm and sunny with a rainy afternoon on Thursday and on Saturday when we arrived. We had a wonderful time. 

Now I get to leave tomorrow on a business trip. Back in the car! 

Finally

 

It is about time baseball started

London Calling

Inflation is at levels we haven’t seen since Carter micromanaged the White House tennis courts. It takes half a paycheck to fill up your car with gas. American citizens are struggling, and Biden is passing out free healthcare, education, tax refunds, and cell phones to illegals. WTH? My cell phone bill is expensive. Granted, that is on me and the features, products, and plan I chose. That is because I am paying for it. I guess I’m also paying for Jose and Juan and Naillely’s cell phone too. 

Look it up. You are paying too.

Bluey cracks me up

I’m late to the old blogeroo this morning because reasons. The Obama made an appearance at the White House yesterday. I almost felt the sea levels start to drop and peace break out throughout the globe. Almost.

The bigger news is I believe I have caught a cold. I’m probably sicker than anyone else ever who caught a cold ever. I’m just sayin’. I have a runny nose, watery eyes, sneezing, and coughing from the post nasal drip. I expect you will be lining up to deliver appropriately seasoned chicken noodle soup. Work out the schedule among yourselves, I’m too sick to take charge. I might add a postscript note I prefer homemade, but I’ll take canned if necessary. 

Say, if you are already cooking, you might throw in a grilled cheese, bacon, or a nicely grilled New York Strip. If you are bringing steak you can substitute a side salad and baked spud for the soup. Thanks.

elections have consequences. This time they were negative

I’m on my second cup of coffee. I just finished eating an apple danish. It is typical springtime weather. Blah, blah, blah. 

Biden is driving our country into the ground. Kamala sounds like a cartoon character every time she opens her mouth. Inflation is raging and the only answer this administration has is to either blame the Russians or recommend we all go out and buy a $50,000 car to save $80 bucks a month. Even if we all had the best of credit a car payment on a fifty grand car would be around three hundred bucks minimum to save eighty dollars? Even this history major can calculate that math doesn’t add up. But the good news is we don’t have the Orange Man tweeting mean stuff. 

I notice the liberals in my neighborhood who had the BLM and Biden/Harris signs in their front yards have scrapped the Biden stickers from their bumper. I wonder why? It cost me $80 bucks to fill up my car. Think that has anything to do with it?

I’m sorry

OK, I will pop up another post to move the springtime honey down the page. No need to bleach your eyes or reach for those knitting needles to do yourself Equis-style. 

The day started off a chilly just-above-freezing 34F this morning, but it is supposed to reach the mid-fifties this afternoon. I may throw some burgers on the grill. I may not. 

True confession, I’m a decent cook. I do all of the cooking around here. I can make about any of the comfort foods almost as as well as your mom, and  am always surprised to see I use most of the same techniques as many of the hosts on cooking shows. That said, I am not a great BBQ grill cook. I type that with trepidation, knowing my Man Card is at risk. 

It is strange I am so...mediocre...at grilling, since I learned to cook in the Boy Scouts over open fires and coals. By the time I was in my late teens I could cook nearly anything over a fire or in a cast iron Dutch oven. I learned while camping, Mom sure as heck wasn’t letting my touch her stove. 

That’s not entirely true, I cooked my own lunch often since she worked, if you count heating jarred tamales or putting TV dinners in the oven. The real kind, in foil trays. 

After we were married I discovered my wife couldn’t cook anything beyond pancakes or a French roast, so I naturally took on the task. I like cooking and am pretty competent at it. Except grilling. 

So it goes.

Have a great Sunday.

Springtime

 

You know it is spring when the girls start to show off their belly buttons 

Sorry, you cannot unsee it.

I got in the wayback machine and ended in a time warp

Here is a re-run of a post published in 2005. It is part of a story I started writing back in the early1990s. This dates from probably 1991 when I was working third shift.

Monday, December 05, 2005

Prologue 

The silence of the pre-dawn morning was broken only by the occasional car or truck passing on the snow-slick two-lane highway. A car slowed to a crawl as if closing in upon its prey. The rear end slid a little as the sedan skidded to a stop. The darkness was broken by the white flash of backup lights as the vehicle slowly backed up four dozen yards and turned into a narrow driveway. The sounds of a straining engine could be heard through the barely falling snow as the car lumbered through the mud and slush. The headlights bounced up and down and side to side in duplication of the rutted road. Snowflakes danced in the twin beams like chorus girls in the spotlight. Round and round they spun, climbing and falling to the ground in the wake of the slowly moving automobile.

The car coasted to a stop in front of a run-down farmhouse. The roof was partially caved in and the awning over the porch had long since been consumed as firewood. The glow of a cigarette could be vaguely seen through the frosted windows of the idling car. The engine cut out as the door opened. A short figure in a bulky overcoat climbed out of the dark vehicle. The cigarette arced a path through the darkness as it was flipped into the distance. The man looked to the east as the first rays of dawn began to spread their pink and orange fingers through the clouds of the night sky. It had stopped snowing. The man's breath made clouds around his head in the early morning cold. 

The man huddled next to the car until the sun began to peak over the horizon. He opened his trousers and relieved himself on the left rear tire before clearing his throat and spitting in the direction of the vanished cigarette. He slowly made his way toward the house.

The man mounted the sagging steps, hesitated and ducked through the doorless entryway. The sun’s weak rays provided just enough light for the figure to navigate the littered hallway. He made his way to what was the front living room. The television set and VCR were strangely incongruous in the surroundings.

He started the gas-powered generator. Its sound filled the early morning air. The man involuntarily winced at the noise. He lit another Camel and turned on the TV. Static changed to a blue screen as the VCR powered on. The tape was over after three minutes. He poured steaming coffee from a large green Thermos and went to the corner to relieve himself yet again. He sat down and watched the tape twice more.

His assignment was clear. The Vice President of the United States was to attend the “Greatest Spectacle in Sports” – the Indianapolis 500 in just four and one half months hence. In May the Indianapolis 500 gets top attention in the papers: not this year. This year the Vice President would be assassinated while attending the race. The man in the bulky overcoat watched the film yet again. The man would go to Indianapolis tomorrow and begin laying the plan to kill the heir apparent to the Presidency.

He picked up all of his cigarette butts and placed them in his pocket. From his briefcase, he took a wad of plastic-like gel. He first stuck the plastique to the side of the generator and then added a detonator. He was seven miles away on the interstate when the farmhouse disintegrated into a ball of flame.

I know all of the words to The Ventures’ Pipeline

There is a skiff of snow on the lawn this morning. That is an official measurement.  I thought it was supposed to be spring? Some April Fool joke from Ma Nature.

I am dumbstruck by the reaction to Florida’s new law saying you can’t teach SexEd to seven year olds. I cannot believe there are people angry, weepy, and outright hysterical that they cannot do this. I’m even more surprised to see Disney taking a political stand. Why do companies go out of their way to antagonize a significant portion of their customers? I avoid talking politics and religion at all costs with my customers. 

One more week until real baseball. I am finding it hard to get excited about the Cubs decent back into mediocrity. At least the team did not change their name to something idiotic (I’m looking at you Cleveland and you NFL Washington). 

I got a quote to remove the giant chunk of tree from my backyard. It is only $50-$70 more than what I estimated it would cost to do it myself. Since I won’t have to do the work it seems like the way to go. He just won’t be able to do it for a week or two.  

No April Fool jokes from me today. Go forth and prosper.

Sing along:

Time Passages

It was a windy rainy night. A stiff breeze that would have some sort of maritime nomenclature, were I to live closer to the sea, continues to blow. I am sure lots of whip-like willow branches are down in my backyard. I won’t notice since about thirty feet of willow tree is already filling that space. Some of the nearby neighborhoods are without power this morning. I’m fully electric at the moment. 

I have spent a good part of the evenings this week with my nose stuck in a book. I knocked off an old Robert Ludlum thriller I last read back in the 1980’s and then I read a Louis L’Amour western in the course of two evenings. I am now embarking upon Barbara Tuchman’s The Proud Tower, a Pulitzer winning history that covers one of my favorite time periods, the Guilded Age and the years leading up to the Great War. While I say it is one of my favorite  periods, I will readily admit I have not studied those times as in-depth as some other epochs. 

I have often said that if I could go back in time it would be to the turn of the Twentieth Century. I wouldn’t choose the Civil War, what if I found myself with the Tenth Indiana at Chickamauga? Nor would I choose the Napoleonic period. Any earlier time period and I would face living standards and hardship I am unprepared to hazard. 

The period 100 to 125 years ago would be familiar enough I could perhaps navigate, provided I didn’t immediately catch diseases my body is unprepared for. Sanitation and health standards were a far cry from what we have become accustomed to. Just imagine the piles of horse crap, human waste, and garbage that littered the streets of even the most wealthy neighborhoods. Ponder the smog of thousands of cooking fires, the danger of gas lighting, and the outright body odor of the gen pop. 

It is better I go back in time through words and history. It’s a lot safer that way.

Wimpy Dads

Two kids are arguing over whose father is the wimpiest.

The first one says," My dad is so scared that when lightning
strikes, he slides underneath our bed."

The second kid says, "That's nothing. My dad is so scared that
when my mother works nightshift, he sleeps with the woman next door."

You Tell Me

We went to Dairy Queen for lunch today, the wife, the littlest granddaughter, and I. They were playing oldies on the overhead speaker. Baby, I Love Your Way by Peter Frampton came on. The wife mentioned she hadn’t heard that for a long time. It muttered that I hate Peter Frampton. She asked why. I told her.

Always full of sympathy, she told me I was a dork and it had nothing to do with Peter Frampton. 

Here is the story, as related in these pages back in 2015. You be the judge:

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..

Problem Solver-in-Chief

Cappy tells me I gotta quit using logical on the leftists. Since I just want to help my fellow man, I have some more thoughts to easing the strife of contemporary society.

We are told that sex and gender is a matter of feelings. If you think you are a man or woman and identify as such, then it is incumbent upon society to accept you as you are. 

We are told that one of the greatest problems in America is the historical and endemic racism that permeates every aspect of our culture. 

If you feel that way, why not just maintain you have different levels of melanin than is generally perceived by the public? Identify as a middle-aged white guy. Then you will be accorded all of the privileges you maintain we enjoy.

Problem solved.

You are welcome.

Post 7346, or 84 days of bird crap

The wind chill is a un-springlike 15F this morning. That is cold any time of the year. I should have braved the weather to snap a picture of the neighbor’s yellow daffodils poking their blooms through the snow yesterday. I didn’t. So it goes. 

As is often the case I peruse the interwebz before I compose a post. I read not only your blog, but other interesting and not so interesting stuff. This morning I read about a woman who let a baby bird nest in her hair for a couple of months. I’m not going to link. If you find that fascinating you can search it out on your own. 

Sometime last week I passed my...carry the one...multiply by pi...divide by the square of the hypotenuse...apply the mathematical associative property...my 53rd no, let me do the math again, make that my 17th blogversary. This makes post seven thousand, three hundred and forty six. That is a lot of words. That is a lot of fluff and crap and lectures and politics and old war stories and sheer nonsense. If you do the math, that comes out to almost every day. 

I have slaved over a hot keyboard to bring you whatever this is. Why? I don’t know. The bigger question is why seventeen of you show up to read it? What’s wrong with you? You could be reading about women who let birds nest in their hair, or why a Congresswomen thinks it is racist to arrest people for not paying subway fares, or how Sleepy Joe just threatened to remove the leader of one of the most powerful nations on Earth. Instead, or also, you bother to glance at whatever I hack together; typos, poor syntax, faulty logic, Neanderthalic politics, unedited prose and all. 

Thank you. 

And the title of this post is a lie. I’ve written (not necessarily published*) 7347 posts. Tomorrow’s effort is already written. While it may be canned, it is of uncompromising genius. A Monday post, when as many as 20 readers stop by. I want to reach the masses, not just my loyal weekend crowd. 

Thank you for your loyalty, your patronage, your bothering to read my words.

* just think, there are posts I thought were too crappy to publish. Scary, ain’t it? 

PS, to give you an idea how these posts are composed, purely extemporaneously, I intended to write about baseball when I started typing this morning. See how easily you get me off subject? 

PSS Yes, she let a bird nest in her hair for eighty-some days. I can’t get past it. 84 days: some dude went around the world in less time. Sheesh.

I Don’t Know No Cool Lines

I look out the window to a winter wonderland. Yes, we have an inch or two of snow covering the grass. It is disappointing. After we were in the seventies on Monday, we have...this. Don’t get me wrong, it is beautiful outside. The snow is wet so it stuck along branches and tree limbs. But it is snow. 

Freddie, DO NOT READ FURTHER.

I woke with this song stuck in my head this morning:

This is from Melencamp’s ( then Johnny Cougar) 1980 album Nothin’ Matters and What if it Did?. 

Side note, in 1980 I dressed pretty much like John in this video. I was grunge before it was cool. I didn’t have the nasty greasy hair though.  My every day fashion sense hasn’t improved. 

There you have it. Go forth and enjoy your Saturday.

And so is Lola

Judge Ketanji Brown Jackson says she cannot define what a woman is. Ponder that. In all of her years of education we are expected to believe she never once had a class in biology? Even a redneck state like Indiana requires one to take biology to gradjeate high school.

If she doesn’t know what a woman is, how can she adjudicate sex discrimination cases? 

What is it with Democrats and defining the word “is”? 

Maybe the judge should consult the works of Ray Davies and The Kinks.

That passage of time can’t go quick enough

The servers are still down at work. I suspect it was a big hack/ attack. Giant spreadsheets detailing all my stuff seemed like a good idea. I’m not sure now when I can only access them via my phone. Not ideal working conditions.

The rain has finally abated a little. I thought for a while yesterday I was supposed to use the big piece of tree filling my backyard as a start on an ark. I don’t think willow is a desired wood for ship building. I cleaned my gutters during a brief lull in yesterday’s downpours. More rain is expected later tonight and into the morrow. I hope the standing water can soak in the saturated ground by then. 

The wife is off babysitting at the grandgirls’ house. The oldest is sick. I think I will either have grilled cheese or a peanut butter and jelly sammich for lunch. Both sound good. Decisions, decisions. 

If you think I ramble, try listening to this train wreck:

She is just a bad stumble and Biden head bump away from grasping the nuclear football. She proves you don’t have to be smart to sleep your way into politics. I’m not sure she can spell potato either.