Monday, May 2, 2016

Someone once asked me how I managed to find myself in so many improbable situations.



It is simply because I made no effort to avoid them. Some of the most fun I have ever had was when I made an ass out of myself.

Like the time I joined the woman's team for the Pillar Mountain Open Golf Classic. 

The first year of the Pillar amountain open classic, a one hole, par 70 course was the brain child of a couple of fishermen that likely started as a bet between the two of them after a few beers. I may be wrong but it's probably close.

It was fairly early in March and if I recall correctly the plan was the golfing would take place just after St. Partick's Day with the ceremony scheduled for April Fool's Day at Tony's Bar.

There was a $50 entry fee and fifties were scarce that time of year. I sort of wanted to enter but didn't have a spare $50.

I was in a bar a couple down from Tony's having a drink and the owner announced he was sponsoring a woman's team. He was paying the fee. Three woman had signed up on the spot. I knew all three of them and they knew me. All three were older than I was by several years.

They were looking for a fourth.

"Hell, if you don't find anyone, sign me up. Me and the girls can chippie our way to the top," I said. The place cracked up. It was just an idle comment. I got up and left a minute later. I had a date of some sort with a real hottie I had met earlier. She was visiting from Seattle and I knew a slam-dunk when I saw one.

I arrived at the designated spot and she was there as planned but had to beg off and she said she was free for all of the next day. She said she'd be thrilled to see Alaskan wildlife. I told her I'd meet her between nine and ten and told her to dress in her worst jeans.

I did not tell her I was taking her to the dump. 

What? The dump? Who in hell takes a date to the city dump?

Back in the day I took numerous dates to the dump to see eagles and bears. Eagles and bears have to eat and the dump has pretty easy pickin's. I never took a date to the dump and failed to spot an eagle up close. Quite often they would land on the hood of my pickup.

I never had a date that I took to the dump not totally thrilled to see the wildlife up that close. The following day she proved to be no exception. She was thrilled to see eagles up close and a bear.

So I ran an errand or two and moseyed back to the bar.

First thing someone said when I entered was "Hey Pic! You overloaded your face two doors down and you're on the woman's team."

I felt someone behind me and it was a friend's wife with a tape measure.

"Measuring you for your dress," she said.

"Yeah? Well you better get a bra big enough to hold two Pinch bottles of scotch," I shot ack.

"Who's got tits that big?" asked one of the guys.

Everyone's eyes turned to Sophie. "Oh, no. You're not getting one of my bras..." She said and caved in quickly, adding "OK, I've got an old one I can part with.

I handed my friend's wife a ten because I knew she was heading to the Mission (read Goodwill) for a dress and she always seemed to find things for me in her travels. 

She was always handing me something like an almost new part of Carhart pants for a buck or two. I also told her to make damned good and sure it fit over Carhart insulated coveralls. Pillar Mountain can get pretty cold that time of year.

The next day I ran into Debbie. (I wrote about her yesterday) She was generally a pretty good source of information.

She told me that when I ran my mouth that after I left there had been some discussion over actually sending me along with the three woman to complete the foursome. They knew my offer to go with the girls and chippie our way to the top was made in jest. They also knew I'd probably go along with it if they chose me. The girls themselves said it would be a pretty good deal to take me along in case something happened.

For what it's worth, all three of them had respected positions in the community. I was living in a camper trailer behind a bar just across the town line. Still, I had gotten a certain acceptance from a lot of the community, although sometimes I was considered controversial.

A couple of nights before we golfed I got word that there was going to be a team meeting to discuss strategy. I knew that simply meant the girls wanted to go out and have a couple of drinks. 

While we were there some clown at the other end of the bar was kind of toasted. He was telling the guy next to him an old, tired joke about hiring waitresses. When he got to the punchline he almost shouted it out, "The one with the biggest tits," he said, loudly.

One of my team members looked over at him and said dryly, "In two days that will be him," and pointed at me.

It went right over the man's head but most eveyone picked up on it and laughed like hell. They knew I was going to wear the whisky titties.

Truth of the matter is that a big part of what made the Pillar Mountain Open Classic successful is that it is scheduled for late March. By that time everyone is raging with cabin fever and looking for a place to blow off steam. Alaskan winters can get rough. Suicide, depression and violence rates are much higher in Alaska during the winter. Sometimes people will do just about anything to relieve boredom.

I speak from experience as I fondly remember coming out $1.50 ahead after a series of quarter bets on cockroach races one afternoon.

The course is up the side of Pillar Mountain, one hole, par 70. I was actually there when the two fisherman conjured up the idea and the course has been written up in a number of golf magazines and other places over the years.

Two way radios, chain saws and hatchets are prohibited and waking up a sleeping bear is a five stroke penalty. 

I was actually in the back room with the two that planned this event. It started as a bet between two fishermen and the idea grew. The pair ran it past the owner of one of the bars who offered to let us use the joint for the awards ceremony, slated for April Fool's Day.

Looking back on this, the event was actually a secondary part of the fun. Very few contestants took it seriously at all. It was really just an excuse to get out and do something. A lot of the fun was the excitement leading up to it and the bragging and teasing afterwards.

I showed up at the bar on the morning of the event and picked up a couple bottles of Pinch and wandered into the bar. I believe I got a buy one get one free deal because of the event but I may be wrong.

I entered the bar and was handed a bra which I put on over my carharts and stuffed the bottles into. The damned thing was so big that the clasps were too loose and someone tied the back straps with a knot. The someone else pulled a ridiculous looking dress over the top of it and I was good to go. I was now officially one of the girls. 

I looked riduculous. I was shaggy faced, Einstein haired wearing a rather stupid looking dress over Carhart coveralls and pac boots.

At this point the memory goes a little soft. I believe I was unceremoniously dumped into the back of a pickup and hauled to the base of the mountain and the other three woman and I started our way to the top.

The event itself was a three ring circus with lots of hoots, shouts, one-liners and general stupidity. I do remember that my damned boobs got in the way of my swing and that every time I'd take a shot I'd pull the right one out and everyone in the area would have a taste. I'd make the shot and replace it.

Much of it thirty years later is somewhat of a blur.

One of the things I do remember is the comments from people we passed by. A woman that ran somewhat of a day care took one look at me and laughed. She knew I was a filler in for the woman's foursome and said, "Pic's got the right idea! She turned to me. "Hey, Pic! If that bra has what I think it has in it I'll get the sponge I use to wash the car to blot you up!"

A few of the guys wandered up to me for a drink and shared a laugh about something or another.

It was not long before my right boob was empty and my left one was still full. One of the girls looked at me and laughed. The weight difference made my boobs uneven. "One hung low," she said.

I asked her if that was Chinese for something and we laughed.
getting a drink out of my left boob. By that time I only had one because one of the real girls took my empty one and put it in her pack so as not to litter.

By the time we made it to the top most of us were fairly toasted. All four of us girls were pretty buzzed and I was flat chested. We got a ride bck to town, I threw away my dressed and returned the bra to Sophie who looked at it and laughed. 

A couple of days later, on April Fool's Day the awards ceremony was held at the bar. I don't remember turning in a score card because I ran out of balls and didn't finish. A lot of us didn't.

Half the entry fees were donated to a local charity and the other half went to the winner. The winner was tactful enough to avoid any accusations of impropriety by leaving the cash on the bar and telling us to drink it up.

I was semi-officially declared to be good sport of the year for pinch-hitting on the girls team by a number of people.

The entire town seemed to have been lifted by it because everyone now had something to talk about.

The event may very well go on today. I googled it and saw internet posts on it as recent as 2013.


Aftermath.

I wound up with three woman that were my defenders.

About a week or two later, I was sitting in the bar and a fisherman that had a reputation of raining on everyone's parades asked me loudly if I I had a sexual identity problem. It was in reference to my trip up the hill with the girls.

A voice behind me shot back, "Absolutely not! It takes someone that's pretty damned sure of himself to do what he did!"

It was one of the women I had golfed with. She was in the bar meeting someone and I hadn't noticed her.

One of the respected fishermen that had a reputation for being quite successful turned to her. "You're damned right it does," he said. He turned to me. "I'll bet you had a blast!"

He turned to me. "Would you do that again?"

"Next time I'd have three tits," I said. "We ran out before we got to the top!" That drew quite a laugh.

I think my teammates spoke highly of me, too because I noticed a subtle change in the way some of the town big shots treated me.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

I generally took part in all the small town festivities while I lived in Kodiak. Besides golfing up Pillar Mountain we had The Buskin River Raft Race. I took part in that a few times and my presence was duly noted.

The Golf Classic, raft race and a few other things I participated in I went for. I really got into them and had a great time.

There were always a handful of people that disapproved of the way I handled myself at these festivities. I never entered them to win. I entered to have fun. 

For example one year at the raft race my team had a huge war with another team. We sidetracked and battled our way down the river playing a delightful game of screw the otherr guys.

Anyway, there were always a handful of overcritical people that would try and bring people down with derogatory comments about people that participated in things.

I defended myself by simply saying, "I was in the shit and you were sitting on the beach doing nothing...nothing...not a damned thing but watch other people DO something. When you get off your dead ass and onto your dying feet and actually DO something then and only then will your opinion count!"

Generally this was followed with a "But..."

I'd interrupt. "But nothin."

That generally ended it.
Somewhere, maybe in a box in someone's attic is possibly a snapshot of one of the leading citizens



To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Sunday, May 1, 2016

A change in course for a couple of days.


After yesterdays post I decided to veer off the normal course and look back at a couple of women I knew that I was not romantically involved with but became friends of sorts and impacted my life.

Debbie was a woman I occasionally did a few things with. She was entirely out of my social circles yet we respected each other.

You have to remember I was considered somewhat of a scurvy character at the time living in a 12 foot camper/trailer. She, of course was living like a civilized human being.

Deb was occasionally outrageous but it happened seldom enough that it made eyebrows raise.

 I pranked her one night at one of the bars in town. She was alone and sitting at a table which was rare. I didn't ask, I simply sat down and we chatted a little.The band was playing and was a bit on the loud side.

When a band stops playing there is a lull between the time they stop playing and everyone starts talking. I was quick that night. 

When the band stopped playing I said in a loud voice, "No, I don't want to marry you. You out of your tree? I just want cheap sex from you!"

Of course, everyone looked at the table and Deb knew she had been had by a professional. She threw her head back and laughed. Then she looked at me and said loudly, "We're out of here!"

We both got up and left through the restaurant. On the way out she said quietly, "You didn't get lucky but I will buy you a drink at the Village. Amy is going to have a field day with this." Amy was the village gossip. She was a waiterss there and heard the entire thing,

We sat down in the village and gabbed a bit. She was funny.

I suppose the gossip crowd is going to ask you what the hell happened," I said.

"Oh, who cares?" she asked rhetorically. "I suppose I'll tell Amy that you left me sore for a week. Why not? I imagine you'll have all sorts of women chasing you after that!"

I laughed. Amy was a town gossip. I also knew that Debbie was going to be immediately friend zoned. She had a sense of humor and imagination and didn't give a damn. Friends like this are invaluable. My gut told me that it was the way to handle the situation.

Debbie was about a head taller than I was. She actually had a nice figure and was on the topheavy side which made her all the more physically attractive to me. I do not know why but I have always been attracted to taller than me busty women. Maybe it is because in a previous life I was a farmer. I wanted someone I could love, milk and pull the plow. Who knows?

Still, the biggest attraction was that she had a wonderful sense of humor. If the laugh  was on her? So what!

There were an awful lot of times the laugh was on me and it cost me nothing. In fact in another light a laugh on me was often a profit.

We finished our drinks and I ordered a couple more. I was professional enough to know she could likely hold more liquor than me. The fix was not in at this joint. I had to man up and recoginze a possible oncoming alcohol fog.

The waitress came by with our drinks. She had a mouth on her, meaning she was a gossip. As she delivered them I turned to Deb.

"Will you marry me?" I asked.

"Oh, God, yes!" she replied. 

I paid for our drinks and she looked at me and she kept a straight face. "I have wanted you to ask me this since the day I met you!"

When the waitress left Deb had a hard time keeping a straight face. "You asshole," she said. But she was clearly amused.

She took a pull off of her drink. "I suppose I'm not going to get a quickie in the bed of my pickup tonight, am I?"

She snarfed. Good Canadian whisky came out of her nose. I know it burned. But she laughed anyway. Anyone that can laugh with a nose full of CC has to be amused.

"I already got one a$$hole inn my pants now. There's not room for two!" she shot back. 

"Sucks to be me," I laughed.

We finished our drinks and she asked me for one favor. "Drop me off and leave your pickup outside my place. Amy is going to cruise on by. I don't want to disappoint her."

I laughed and dropped her off. I wasn't plastered by the rules in effect by the time and did what she asked. I knew Amy was going to look like a fool in the immediate future. So was the waitress that overheard my proposal.

I walked home. It really wasn't fa Still, a cop saw me and gave me a ride. While he knew where I lived it was technically illegal so he covered his ass not dropping me at my door. I actually got a pass because it was known by the air service operator that on windy nights I'd check tie-downs on his planes. It was one of the things I liked about Kodiak. You could earn your keep and the laws were applied with common sense. If you contributed the small stuff was overlooked. The air service liked having me there.

A week later I ran into Deb and she told me Amy had made a complete idiot of herself by running her mouth. 'What's new?" I asked her. She grinned.

"You look like hell," I said. "Wanna unwind an go to a movie with me? I could use the company."

"I'd fall asleep," she said.

"So?" I replied.

She looked at me thoughfully. "Yeah. I could use a place to unwind. Meet you in 10 minutes."

Twenty minutes later she showed in on high heels and I laughed. She was now at least a head taller than I was.

We looked like Laurel and Hardy. She was at least 6'2 and I was about 5'7. 

She was good to her word. She fell asleep during the movie. I looked over at her and smiled. When the credits were up on the screen I quietly woke her. She was embarrassed. I told her not to be. We left and had a quick drink together. I dropped her off and the thanked me. I went home quietly amused. I knew she was comfortable with me enough to unwind.

A couple of weeks past and I ran into her again. I was pretty beat. "I want to sleep with you tonight. There's a new movie at the Opium Theater. Let's catch it. I hear it's really boring."

She laughed and told me I had a sick sense of humor and offered to buy. I told her they owed me a couple of tickets as I had done them a favor.

She offered to buy drinks as she was a part time bartender and Louie was working. I knew this meant Louie owed her a few. Bartenders trade thing off. Deb was a part time bartender.

She looked at her watch and said we had time so we wandered into the bar Louie was working at and both ordered Cognac. It makes me sleepy. We knocked a pair of doubles back and made it to the Opium Theater on time for the show.

We both promptly fell asleep.

Seeing she was taller than me I fell asleep with my head on her shoulder. She fell asleep with her head atop mine. The owner woke us up. We were both out like a light.

He was singine "Wake up, Little Susie". we both woke up laughing. I actually felt quite refreshed. It had been a rough week. Debbie commented she felt the same way.

What was interesting is that we both knew our lives were quite different. What we shared is that we liked each other's company, but in small doses. We both shared a sense of outrageousness and really didn't give a damn about a lot of things. Still, there was little sexual chemistry there. We both knew it and didn't bother heading in that direction. We were far too different.

When I invited her to join the Raft Race team I was on she looked crestfallen. She said that she was already committed and quietly confessed she'd have a lot more fun with my team. After the race she said she saw our antics and wished she hadn't committed to the other team.

We were never even close to being any kind of a unit and really didn't want to be, either. We would occasionally run into each other and do something together. Always something small like have lunch together.

In fact, the entire time we knew each other I don't recall either of us being in one another's apartment or my trailer. It was strictly a meet on the street kind of thing.

It's rather odd I write about someone that was actually kind of a non-relationship but the truth is I think we simply brightened each other's day from time to time.

It's odd that I sit here remembering her after all these years. On the other hand maybe it isn't. At the time I was living by my wits in a camper in Kodiak and so to speak, at the bottom of the local social structure. Sometimes snobs treated me poorly...or tried to. 

I do remember the time I had to deal with a city councilman that was all puffed up and wanted me to kiss his ass. I told him that the attendant at the local dump did more for me than he did and watched him sit there outraged.

Debbie was in the greasy spoon that morning and sitting nearby with someone else and looked up. She laughed and looked at the city councilman. 

"From his point of view, he's probably right," she said."He just fixed his pickup with parts he got from the dump in exchange for a bottle of scotch. What have you done for him except for making his life miserable by telling the cops to harrass the little guys that come up her to man the canneries and keep the town running? I can certainly see where the guy at the dump impacts his life far more favorably than the city council does." 

Looking back on it, Debbie gave me a certain sense of value. I would cheer up when I ran into her and she seemed to do the same thing. 

I keep saying it doesn't take much and I suppose my time spent with Debbie wasn't really much but it did leave a lasting impact on me. It taught me to give value to people.




To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Saturday, April 30, 2016

Sometimes you just have to get someone's attention.




Many moons ago when I lived in Kodiak a certain woman saw me on the street and said, "Hey, Pic! I want to eat lunch at the place at the end of the road. I'll buy if you drive."

I took her up on her offer. She was one of the people I liked. She had a really dry sense of humor. Truth is she was a grownup.

I enjoyed her because she was refreshing and didn't have a whole lot of time for stupid stuff. A few months earlier she had passed some bad news onto me under strange circumstances. 

I was sitting in a hot tub soaking and the door opened a crack. "Pic, are you shy? I've got some news to pass on."

"I just don't want you to see how small my package is so don't look." I was being a smart ass as usual. We went back a ways as friends. 

"Small, huh? Good deal they don't hurt as much so I save them for a ********." she replied. She was often good for an outrageous answer.

Very soon after I met her I decided that she was a grownup and would be a good friend. I friend zoned her at once and years later now I was glad I did.

"Yeah, really," I replied. "come on in."

She came in and sat down and told me that I had just lost five friends. Another fish boat had gone down with all hands. 

She knew I was friends with all five of them and felt I should hear about it from her instead of at the bar. She offered me a drink and I refused and sat there for a few minutes.

What's sad about it is that I wasn't stunned. The reason is even sadder. I was used to it by now.

By the time I reached my 35th birthday I had been to over 50 funerals and memorial services and only a couple of weddings. No wonder I was so crass about life. At 64 I have not fully recovered from this.

Anyway, she left and a few weeks later she saw me on the streets and said that if I'd drive, she'd buy me lunch. I agreed and off we went. We arrived at the place at the end of the road and sat down. The fleet was in and there were a bunch of fishermen there raising a little hell.


The boys were poundin' them down and then kept getting louder and louder and cruder. After a while it got pretty raw. I saw her face look a bit annoyed.

She wasn't some prissy little thing but she was a woman and deserved a little respect. "Want me to quiet them down?" I asked.

"Yeah, Please. I can generally take it but I'm not in the mood right now," she answered.

I turned and shouted at the top of my lungs, "Hey! Watch your f***ing language, a$$holes! I'm trying to eat lunch over here with this f***ing c**t!"

Every head turned and you could heve heard a pin drop. They saw her and were agape. I suppose they were expecting her to slap me silly. Most women would have. She turned to the boys at the bar.

"Please, guys. I'd appreciate it," she said.

The guys shook their heads up and down and there was peace in the valley.

She turned to me and said, "I figured you'd do something gentlemanly like that."

"Anything for a lady," I replied. "I just had to get their attention."

We continued with lunch and discussed a number of things and then hung out a while simply enjoying each other's company. What made it even the more comfortable is that we both knew we were not made for each other. The unspoken male/female questions didn't have to be asked. The sexual chemisrty was not an issue.  We were friends and that was as far as it was going. We both knew it. We were both glad to share the friendship.

For one thing both of our lives were far too tumultous at the time.

Several months later she was talking to another woman about going out for a few drinks 'with the girls'. I looked at her and said, "I want to go drinking with the girls. I'll be ladylike, I promise." I don't know why I said it, I was just being a clown but they agreed that I could be one of the girls with them for the evening. 

It proved to be an interesting evening. While I was sitting there some guy tried to drop anchor and was told that it was girls night out. He pointed at me and asked what I was doing there.

"Pic is one of the girls tonight," she said.

"Hey, guys! Pic's one of the girls tonight," he announced to the guys sitting at the bar.

"That's right and don't one of you pigs come on to me tonight, either because I am a lesbian," I said.

"You're a lesbian? How's that?" said a voice.

"I was born in the eastern part of Lesbia. That makes me a Lesbian by birth." I replied. Most of the guys chuckled, a couple looked confused. 

One guy confused in the depths of an alcoholic fog asked, "Why not just chase women as a straight man and save yourself the trouble of having to be a lesbian? The end result is the same."

 "Because then I would not be one of the girls and I couldn't go drinking with them," I replied.

"What a sneaky way to chase women," said a fisherman.

Everybody had a good laugh over that one.

I had a pretty good time that night and learned  lot after the rest of the girls had a few drinks. I was smart enough to put the fix in with the bartender.  My scotch was really iced tea. 

I have to admit there were several times I laughed myself silly.

Later on she started dating a guy and he knew all about the relationship we shared and it didn't bother him. He knew that we had a basic simple friendship and had nothing to worry about. 

I was living on a sailboat at about this time and a couple of times she crewed for me. I could tell by the look on her face she loved being on the water. Actually her boyfriend had suggested I take her sailing.

Shortly after the two of them broke up she had a brief problem with alcohol but was smart enough to get some help and got her life together. However by this time I had left the island on my sailboat.

A couple of years ago someone sent me her email address and we swapped a couple emails. But the truth is after a couple of exchanges we both realized that both of our lives had changed and we were both settled. We have little in common anymore.

She lives quietly outside of Alaska somewhere with her long term significant other and has a rather quiet job and I suppose she's doing well. I do wish her well and from time to time think fondly of her.




To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Friday, April 29, 2016

It is a gray day and I have things to do


The deer are outside checking things out and feeding on the easy pickings spring has brought us.

The coffee's on and I just weighed in and I'm close to where I like my weight. I gain at sea and lose it at home.

Yesterday I drove two ground rods into the ground because my wife asked me to bring the electrical panel up to current code even though it has been grandfathered. 

One of the rods was to bring the panel board up to code and the other one went into the base of my vertical antenna for lightning diversion purposes.

Shortly after I licensed for ham radio I installed a couple ground rods. I spend over a day on a ladder pounding one into hard earth and finally decided to rent a jackhammer after I found out that there is a hammer bit especially for ground rods. 

When I got the jackhammer home it took me less than a minute to drive one in a full eight feet. Right tool for the right job and all.

Code now requires a pair of ground rods about ten feet apart tied together with a heavy copper wire. 

When we moved here there was a ground rod sticking out and bent over. Looking at it I understand what happened. Some idiot put it in too close to the house and when it got partway in it hit the concrete footing and bent. He said 'close enough' and attached the wire to it.

Some years ago I cut the bent rod off and replaced it with a proper one the full eight feet in.

As for the antenna rod, it's part of a plan to reduce damage if there is a lightning strike. An electrical engineer friend of mine came by and we came up with a logical plan. I'm putting lightning arresters on my antenna lead ins and a few other things.

It's actually just wishful thinking because as the EE said, we're trying to outguess a lightning bolt.







To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Thursday, April 28, 2016

I spent a lot of time being a male in a woman's body.

Then I was born.

I am watching the which bathroom to use issue get ridiculously out of hand.

I saw where some tough guy wanna be sheriff said if any transgender walks into the bathroom his wife is using there will be a John Doe in the morgue.

What's he gonna do? Is he going to grope everyone?

Vote that clown out because he is going to cost his people a fortune in lawsuits. If he gropes my wife I'm not going to be offended at all.

I'm simply going to get rich.

This whole thing is like a group of people demanding the right to buy milk in one gallon bottles. When I said that to someone they looked at me confused and said we have been able to buy milk that way for decades.

"You don't say!" I replied. "Transgenders have used the woman's room for decades."

"But what about the perverts?!"

"What about them? I asked. "Remember how a lot of dipshit do-gooders said that legalizing concealed carry was going to turn the streets into Dodge City? It never happened, did it?"

"I guess not," he replied.

"And nothing is going to happen over this," I replied. "All we're doing is legalizing what has quietly gone on for decades." 

He asked me how I seemed to know so much about transgenders. That's a fair question and the reason is that I lived in Kodiak, Alaska for a decade.

Alaska at the time (and maybe still does) appealed to the four Ms. Mercenaries, Missionaries, Malcontents and Misfits were attracted there by the droves.

Kodiak was a pretty forgiving place full of people that generally had better things to do than worry about stupid stuff. They took people as they saw them and if they were doing no harm they left them alone.

There was (and probably still is) a pretty good sized LGBT community there and it was pretty much out in the open. Nobody cared. It was an odd place where you could find yourself sitting next to a hooker and the mayor. 

I was generally kind to everyone unless their behavior dictated otherwise. I really didn't give a damn about anyone's sexual orientation just so long as they didn't push it on anyone. In the decade I lived there I only recall getting angry at one gay guy that annoyed me by not immediately taking no for an answer. I raised my voice and offered him the hospitality of the emergency room and he left me alone.

Later on someone else smacked him good a couple times and he learned his manners.

I got to know a couple of these people and I basically treated them like woman. That seemed to be what they wanted. They used the woman's room and the woman of the town voiced no complaints.

On the other hand I do have to admit that things were a lot looser there than elsewhere. Once or twice when I was at the urinal a woman would walk in and simply say, "Hi, Pic. The woman's room is a pig sty" and walk into the stall. It didn't even cause a raised
eyebrow. I took no offense. I probably would have done the same thing.

Having fixed the plumbing in both the men's and lady's rooms I knew exactly what she meant. Lady's rooms are generally worse than man's rooms. Some woman are real pigs.

I learned there to be pretty accepting of things and learned that there really isn't a whole lot of stuff to get worked up about. 

Right now as I write I recall two or three of these 'women stuck in a man's body' types that the medicos did a great job on. I pretty much got to see the whole transformation and one of them changed from being kind of an effeminate guy to a really attractive woman. If I recall it took a couple or three years for the entire process.

I suppose it was kind of interesting to watch. Then again Kodiak was the kind of place that a cockroach race would be a boredom reliever. Whatever.

Still, stateside transgenders have used the lady's room for decades with nothing being said. I suppose that before the Big Ballyhoo most women never bothered to even think about it when another woman wandered in and entered a stall. Most transgenders simply sat down to urinate so their feet would not give them away.

(Think. When men urinate their feet point toward the toilet. Women's feet face away from the toilet)

As I write I can think of only one complaint I heard and that was from a snippy bitch that was always looking for something to be cruel about. She griped about Debbie using the lady's room. I didn't look up from the paper I was reading. I simply said, "Leave her alone. She's one hell of a lot more ladylike than you are." 

When she opened her mouth to protest another fisherman said, "He's right. Leave her alone. Besides she probably give a better BJ than you do," That brought the house down.

The bartender replied, "She probably does." and that ended it.

The last I heard of 'Debbie' is that she was supposed to be getting married to some guy and she left Alaska.

The other one, Susan, actually caused me the most embarrassing time of my life. 

I was with a couple of the guys shopping for the boat. We had to pick up enough chow for 5 guys to last about 45 days. That's a lot of chow.

Anyway, we were all standing together when Debbie saw me and approached me. 

"I'm leaving for California tomorrow to get my vagina put in," she said, almost breathlessly. "When I get back I want you to be the first one to try it out with me!"

"That's the most flattering thing any woman has ever said to me," I replied. She wandered off, smiling.

Of course I got teased about that for months but all three of the guys admitted to me that they had never seen such grace under fire. Later when the inevitable word went out across the town of no secrets a number of people both laughed and a couple of them commented on how I handed the situation.

I suppose I learned a lot in Kodiak that has allowed me to see through a lot of life's bullshit. One thing's for sure, though. I really see no need of making a ballyhoo out of a room used to eliminate human waste.

I suppose they ought to keep things the way they are for another reason. Lady's rooms are generally a lot nastier than men's rooms and I don't want them to bring their nastiness into the men's room.








To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Yesterday was one hell of a day!

It started off when I paid a neighborhood kid for some yard work. 

I swung by his house and he and his mom were out front with another nosy soccer mom. 

When I started handing the kid his money little Mrs. Nosy asked if I was paying him for some yard work. I replied by telling her it was a drug deal. Her jaw dropped.

Then I cheerfully explained to her that the only way to get any decent dope is to buy it from school kids because they get all the good stuff.

I handed the kid his money and said, "Drop the dope off after school." and left.

When I got home the phone rang. It was the kid's mother. She tried to chew me out but was laughing too hard to really have any bite to it. She's really got a good sense of humor and really sharp. She's made me snarf more than once.

A couple of hours later I was shopping for a few things and wearing a pink fedora I have. It's a basic Old School 2.5 inch snap brim. I have about a dozen of these in various shades, mostly subdued. I wore the pink one yesterday to cheer me up a bit.

Anyway, some wannabe tough guy in his 40s was behind me in line. He looked at the hat and asked, "That hat mean you're one of the guys that uses the woman's bathroom?"

"What are you? Some kind of closet pedophile that likes his woman built like 8 year old boys?" I shot back. "I wear pink in support of breast cancer research."

The old woman in front of me heard the entire thing and turned around and said, "God bless you! What a nice hat!" Then she glared at the guy.

He stood there quietly and kept his mouth shut to cut his losses. I could feel the heat of his humiliation and turned and let him stew in his own juices.

I think I'll wear that lid again today.





To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

I see where Philly is getting ready to tax soda pop at 3 cents/ounce.

Why not? They tax just about everything else.

Looks like your 16 ounce soda went up a half a buck. 

Oh, well. Next time I stop at a Philly Burger King I'll just drink water.  

The tax is supposed to raise money for some kind of pre-school thing but truth is likely closer to money being raised for single moms to find a place to ditch their kids.

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In other news my better half asked me to check the house ground system which has been grandfathered in but could use an update.

Her big fear seems to be lightning because I have a few ham antennas up in the yard. I suppose to some extent she has a valid point. However, general ham procedure is to simply unplug the antennas and toss them out the window when a storm approaches.

Even with lightning arresters installed you are still going to suffer damage if you get hit. 

I had a fellow ham/electrical engineer drop by and bring me up to speed. I need another ground rod installed and another one at the base of my vertical antenna. I also have to tie them together.

I'm also going to add lightning arresters to all incoming antenna leads.

When all is said and done both the engineer and I agree that we are not really eliminating the damage a lightning strike would do. We are simply trying to minimize it.

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One of my sisters is getting married and the ball busting has started.

By other sister and the nieces and nephews are going to probably get on her to "Get your brother to do the ceremony! He looks GREAT in his white suit and his purple turban!"

We're kind of brutal over things like this.

The problem with things like weddings is that women get too keyed up over them and don't stop for a minute to think. Everything draws a fast knee-jerk reaction.

"What?! What?! What?! Uncle Pic in a purple turban?! If he comes within 100 miles of me dressed like that I'll just die!!"

This is not just a family thing. This is women in general when it comes to weddings. They get so keyed up they forget to think.

Actually I very well may show up in a purple turban before the wedding and make everyone nervous but on the big day I will make a VERY loud statement by showing up well dressed and sitting there quietly as they wait for the other shoe to fall.









To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY