Getting rid of stuff can be interesting

Maybe three or four years back I cut down a medium sized tree in the front yard.

Getting rid of the firewood-sized part of the tree was easy. Neighbor Bob snagged it all and took it to camp for firewood. That was a pretty good deal for both of us.

The smaller stuff was a little more interesting. I fired up the chipper/shredder and turned it into a mountain chips.

Mrs. Piccolo wanted me to shovel and rake the chips on to a tarp and haul it down to the way-back, but this seemed like a lot of work because I’d have to spread it out in addition to hauling it down there.

I pointed out that it would be of more use someone else to use in their garden, and she agreed that if I could get rid of it by giving it away, that it would be OK.

I posted a sign on the pile that said ‘free’.

There were no takers over the next couple of days and Mrs. Pic said that I probably should cart the chips down back.

The next morning, she went to work and I had to run a few errands. Before I left, I changed the sign in front of the pile from ‘free’ to ‘these chips for trade’.

In smaller letters below the sign, I wrote that the chips could be yours for either a case of Heineken or a bottle of good Irish whisky.

I left the house for a few hours and when I returned, the chips were gone. The taker had carefully raked the lawn and it looked like the mountain of chips had never been there at all.

I was so overjoyed to get rid of the stuff that I didn’t even think of the beer. I figured that if they had ripped me off that I was still coming out ahead, so I parked, took the sign down and put it into the trash.

When I came outside I noticed a case of Heineken and a paper bag.

Inside the paper bag was a 1.25 liter bottle of Crested Ten Irish and a note. When I went on line, I found out the Crested ten was worth a fortune. Later, when I tasted it, it was so smooth that I knew it was worth every cent someone paid for it.

The note read: My uncle brought bottle this back from Ireland three years ago and my husband doesn’t drink it. I bought you the beer in case it has gone bad. The note was unsigned.

To this day I do not have clue one who snagged the chips and left the whisky and beer.

Damned if I couldn’t give the chips away, but I could trade them for a $25 case of beer and a $100+ bottle of Irish whisky.

Sometimes I can’t figure people out.


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If Europe is such a wonderful place, why are there Euro snobs in tis country? Why are they not in Europe where they'd be happy?
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A few years ago there was a tsunami that tore up the Pacific Rim pretty badly and it was in the news. Bush was in office, but let’s not talk about him.

I went into a Starbucks for a cuppa Joe and as sometimes happens, I ran into another Euro snob, which seems par for the course. It happens a lot to me there.

Anyway, she asked me why we didn’t do more for the tsunami victims, after all, France had sent over a team of forty doctors and Bush had only sent over three aircraft carriers. After all, what are we going to do? Bomb them?

I turned to her looked and shook my head and gave her a little food for thought.

“Lady,” I began. “Every aircraft carrier has in it about 5500 people, every single one of which has been trained in basic first aid, damage control, search and rescue. These skills can be used ashore. The carrier has in it three separate hospitals with teams of doctors trained to treat traumatic injuries.”

“It is nuclear, so it doesn’t need refueling and can stay on task as long as it’s needed. Its power plant can be used to run shore power. There are aircraft on board that can be used to evacuate casualties. There are also a number of US Marines on board that can be used to restore civil order. The mess facilities routinely prepare well over 16,000 meals a day and can easily produce three times that many, which can be delivered ashore by the on-board helicopters.”

I continued. “We sent three of these ships, along with the USS Comfort and the USS Solstice, huge hospital ships that can tend to the needs of thousands. France pulled 40 third-rate gynecologists out of the whorehouses of Paris and sent them over to represent your beloved France. So what? How many of these ships are there in all of Europe? None. We have almost a dozen”

A few people were watching this unfold, some seemed amused and some looked thoughtful.

I turned to the woman again. “President Bush wanted to send the very best we had, so he was kind enough to give the job to the United States Navy.”

There were a few red faced people there, some were grinning and when I went to get my coffee, a woman charged up and threw a five on the counter and looked at the clerk. “His coffee is on me,” she said.

Then she turned to me and told me that her son was joining the Navy and she had tried to talk him out of it.

She gave me a mother’s look. “I’m proud of him now. Thank you.”