Yesterday on a post on an internet forum I mentioned Drag Queen Freddie, whom I have not seen floating around in a dog's age. I wonder what he's doing these days. Last I heard he was a painting contractor. I hope he's doing well. He's a hoot.
It got me to thinking about him. I really don't know him very well. Every several months I would run into him and generally he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and looked like just another average guy. I was introduced to him by a young woman that was supposed to help me get even with a car dealer several years back. Suffice to say he had one coming.
I was going to con the dealer into ordering a new Corvette for me and then leaving him stuck with it. The payback was eventually cancelled because the sales manager, whom this was aimed at, had taken another job somewhere else.
The young lady was supposed to play the part of the little bimbo I was buying it for. Tokie, the Seeing Eye Cat (see my other blog) was involved and the young woman was supposed to dress and act the part of the bimbo.
In truth, she was a dowdy little country girl, but a pretty good actress. She said she could get help with her end of dressing the part. Apparently she knew Freddie and he helped her out with her clothes and cosmetics and when she called me to show off her outfit, my eyes just about popped out of their sockets.
I asked her who helped her and she pointed to Freddie. He explained that he was an occasional drag queen.
I have seen him dolled up in drag only a couple of times and to tell you the truth, he was a lot more attractive than a lot of real women I have seen. He does a damned good job of disguising himself as a woman and if I didn't know he was a guy I have to admit I'd probably be fooled.
The couple of times I have seen Freddie dolled up he was meticulous in the way he did everything from the clothes he wore to the cosmetics to the body language. If you didn't know it was a guy dressed up, you'd probably look at him and think he was quite an eyeful.
The reason I was thinking of Freddie was that I had to go to the Wally World in Philly this morning and the place gave me pretty damned sore eyes.
I got to thinking that if I had my choice between going into that particular Wally World and seeing what I had to see today or going to another Wally World full of Drag Queen Freddies, I'd choose the latter hands down.
Now, Freddie may be a guy that is dressing up like a woman, but he takes a lot of pride in himself when he does. He wouldn't be caught dead looking like 95% of the Philly women I had to ruin my eyes watching.
While my eyes were burning as I was standing behind a candidate for a mandatory burka with more cottage cheese on one thigh than there was for sale in the entire dairy counter, I flashed that I'd damned well rather be standing behind Freddie.
At least when he gets all dolled up, he takes pride in his appearance.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
One shoe in the breakdown lane.
I have to drive the Pennsylvania Turnpike from Pittsburgh to Philly and back in the course of getting to and from work. It's a long haul and over the years I pay attention to the things I see in the breakdown lane.
This is not a new habit, as I have really done this for years. It's actually a good thing in a way because it tends to keep me alert and my mind occupied. Every so often I see something worth pulling over for and checking out and over the years I've scored a few things that have made stopping worthwhile. I have a pretty good gas can I found on the side of the road and a good socket set that must have fallen off of a wrecker.
There is one thing, though that has kept me wondering through all of these years and I generally see it every trip, either going to work of coming home and that is one shoe in the breakdown lane.
Of course, shoes are generally sold in pair as I have yet to see a shoe store that caters to one-legged people. Even people with a prosthetic leg buy two shoes as the prosthetic leg has a foot at the bottom and it is designed to be shod.
When I see one shoe in the breakdown, I generally get pretty alert because I instantly start searching for the other shoe.
I have mentioned this over the years to any number of people and most of them smile and admit that they, too, start looking for the other shoe. A few of them don't, but there are quite a number of people that know exactly what I am talking about over this dopey one shoe business. This is just second nature to a person with a curious nature.
Anyway, on the way to work the other day I was booting along and there it was, one shoe in the breakdown lane.
But this time was different because about ten yards away in the same breakdown lane, there was the other shoe.
I pulled right over and lo and behold, they matched!
After fifty years of wondering about one shoe in the breakdown lane, there was the other one!
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
This is not a new habit, as I have really done this for years. It's actually a good thing in a way because it tends to keep me alert and my mind occupied. Every so often I see something worth pulling over for and checking out and over the years I've scored a few things that have made stopping worthwhile. I have a pretty good gas can I found on the side of the road and a good socket set that must have fallen off of a wrecker.
There is one thing, though that has kept me wondering through all of these years and I generally see it every trip, either going to work of coming home and that is one shoe in the breakdown lane.
Of course, shoes are generally sold in pair as I have yet to see a shoe store that caters to one-legged people. Even people with a prosthetic leg buy two shoes as the prosthetic leg has a foot at the bottom and it is designed to be shod.
When I see one shoe in the breakdown, I generally get pretty alert because I instantly start searching for the other shoe.
I have mentioned this over the years to any number of people and most of them smile and admit that they, too, start looking for the other shoe. A few of them don't, but there are quite a number of people that know exactly what I am talking about over this dopey one shoe business. This is just second nature to a person with a curious nature.
Anyway, on the way to work the other day I was booting along and there it was, one shoe in the breakdown lane.
But this time was different because about ten yards away in the same breakdown lane, there was the other shoe.
I pulled right over and lo and behold, they matched!
After fifty years of wondering about one shoe in the breakdown lane, there was the other one!
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
A halfway decent rant on .Gov employees.
One thing just about any pension program has to have is sustainability over time.
Right now the issue in Wisconsin over public unions bargaining power is not over at this time. There will be a lot of bellyaching no matter how the issue turns out and the Republicans will get beat up over this issue for years to come.
I wonder if the mean old Republicans that are trying to rein in public union power are doing this to be mean or because they have actually learned to count.
I am not one to upeset the apple cart and if the public unions can figure a way to let some public employee retire and draw double pay for life after a brief period of service, then that's just fine by me. Hell, I'd sign right up. Of course, it is not very likely to happen.
Fact is that pensions are nothing more than money that is being given to someone that is no longer producing, plain and simple. It is a drain on the resource that is supplying it.
Before any of you pensioners go off on that statement and start in on how you gave the best years of your life, yada yada yada, stop and think for a second. What are you doing now? Are you still actively producing in the field you are drawing your pension from? Of course not, you are retired. You are Drawing a pension.
Pensions of most kinds were originally designed to keep a person too old to work from being a burden on everyone else. They were not designed so that a forty-five year old could spend the rest of his life on the golf course. Of course, there are not a whole lot of people in their forties that golf all day, but you can see the point I am making. Most people that retire from a career at an early age do something else for a while. Some start another career and work toward another pension.
A pension fund is a little like a salmon run. In order for it to keep fishermen in fish it has to be taken care of. A salmon run can sustain a limited group of fishermen with a living wage for generations if it is managed properly or it can be overfished make a few people rich for a couple years and the resource ends there.
Same holds true for pension funds. They have to be sustainable. The money has to come from somewhere.
Where?
One of the maritime unions used to have a twenty and out policy, whereby after twenty years of service a man could retire from the maritime business and collect a pension. This means that someone that entered the business at the age of twenty could start drawing something at the ripe old age of forty.
That got changed a while back as it wasn't sustainable. They decided that the money wasn't there to be able to pay a person a lifetime pension after only twenty years of service.
Let's look at a forty year old retiree that lives for another thirty-five years at half-pay for life.
Over the remaining thirty-five years of his life, he draws half pay which equals to being 17.5 years of fulll pay, adjusted for inflation over the years. He will collect this pension for 1.5 times the number of years he worked. This doesn't even start to get into the health insurance, etc that goes with the retirement package.
All of this is fine and dandy if the money is there to pay him. I don't care. It isn't coming out of my pocket.
Truth is, the public sector has come quite a way over the past umpteen years. It used to be that the public sector was really a trade-off career. It used to pay quite a bit less than its private counterpart. The trade off was security.
Years ago, the public sector, that paid somewhat less than the private sector was a secure way to go. A person so employed pretty much didn't have to worry a whole lot about layoffs and how well the company was doing. They knew that their check would be there and on time. They also knew that they would be given a modest retirement that would permit them to live out their final years in quiet dignity.
The trade-off meant that while the private sector employee was driving, for example, a Pontiac or Buick with a V-8, the public employee would likely scoot around town in a six-cylinder Ford or Chevy and maybe lived in a somewhat smaller house. Still, there was generally enough income that if the public employee was frugal, they could afford to raise a couple of kids and send them to a halfway decent college.
What has changed over the past several years is that many areas of the public sector have unionized and as a result, have collectively bargained their way up to the point where working for the government seems like it is now the way to go. In many cases the public sector is paying one hell of a lot more than the private sector does, and when you add in the benefit package and early retirement possibilities there is no wonder that the people that used to head for the big money in the private sector are running straight to government jobs.
Now they can have their cake and eat it, too. They can have the Buicks and Pontiacs and live in the big house on the hill and be secure. On top of that, they can retire early!
All this is good until someone asks the ugly question; who is paying for it?
The answer, of course, is that we all are.
My pay is sent directly to the bank electronically. I can actually look at my watch and see if I can go down to the bank and start in on paying bills. Unless I call the bank, I have no way of knowing how much money is in the bank until my pay voucher arrives in the mail a couple of days later. When I open the envelope I grind my teeth when I see how much I have coughed up in taxes.
This has not been as good a year for me as last year was, I have made a little less and paid a lot more in taxes this year, according to my tax papers and records.
While I understand that the taxes I pay are part of the cost of living in as nice a place as the United States, it galls the hell out of me that the powers that be are so damned generous with my wages.
Where is it all going? What is the government doing with my money?
Of course, some of it is going toward paying public pensions, and while I have little or no problem with the way it used to be, the way it is now leaves me a little miffed.
The teachers these days are among the biggest examples. Backed by NEA and other teachers unions, they really irk me. They work 180 days per year and want 100K per annum, which is one hell of a lot of money for a job that gives them summers off and sabbatical leave time.
Teachers seem to think that they are so great because they teach, but there is a lot of truth to the old saw. Those that can, do. Those that can't, teach.(The third part of this old saw is that those that can do neither become administrators.)
The biggest insult of a justification that I have ever heard a teacher use to justify a raise is that back in the 60s teachers were really underpaid.
Bullshit.
Not one of those teachers was forced to teach. They agreed to do the job for the pay offered. All of them had college degrees and as a result had other options. They obviously wanted to teach otherwise they would have done something else.
Also, even if they were so underpaid, how in the hell os overpaying a current teacher going to settle the so-called injustice given to the teachers of the 60s? Virtually all of the teachers that taught in the 60s are now retired. If anyone is entitled to the back pay it is them and not todays breed of teacher.
In fact, by such reasoning we ought to give every black person in the country that can prove that their ancestors were slaves a big, huge compensation check. We all know how that idea will go over. Park it alongside the clown who suggested putting screen doors in submarines.
One other small thing; If you teachers are so great, then why are we raising a generation of idiots that graduate from college that can't read and write, or more importantly, can't count. Raises to teachers should be based on merit, period. If you send a class forward that has actually learned something, fine. If not, too bad.
I don't mind paying government employees that are now too old to work, but I really don't like the idea of paying someone that golfing four times a week or is now working on his second pension and planning on double-dipping in a couple of years. As a society we seem to put a little too much stock into recreation.
It should be noted here that my Old School mother in law proudly kept working as a Registered Nurse well into her 80s. One can call the woman a double dipper because she was collecting Social Security while working full time, but the arguement holds little water. She had to collect her Social Security by law.
I read a story where a correctional officer felt he was getting screwed by the nasty old Republicans because now he had to make a choice between simply collecting a pension or coming into work. He had started drawing a retirement pension and was still coming into work at his job and getting paid his regular wage on top of his pension. Poor baby.
(There are exceptions like Sheila, an old friend of mine from High School. She got out of college and became a state social worker of some sort and worked her required years so she could pull a pension and live her dream. She now works for peanuts at a local non-profit food bank and loves it, but she has dedicated her life to helping others. She'll probably die while helping others. I respect that.)
People are now living a lot longer than they used to and that means that pension plans of all sorts, including Social Security have to pay out a lot more for a lot longer length of time. That means more money. Where is it going to come from? We have already backed up the age of retirement a couple of years for some. The next likely step is reduced benefits. What comes after that?
In addition to that, Congress, with their well known, world renowned generosity with other people's money has allowed an awful lot of people to dip out of the pot they have not paid into.
At present, things are not sustainable. The only solution is to raise more money. Maybe the government will start having bake sales, but it is not likely. What is likely is more taxation.
You simply can not take more out of a pot than you have put into it. You can not run anything of a deficeit for very long.
The answer is that sometime soon Joe Workingman is going to see a whole lot less of his pay come payday and he will notice that there is now a lot more being taken out to pay for things he will never receive. Right now there are a lot of people asking if Social Security is going to even be there when he retires.
The whole issue here that has started in Wisconsin is not that the government is being mean or cruel and doesn't like the working person. The issue here s that someone there has learned to count and the numbers are not adding up to be able to permit state employees to write their own pension plans.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. There is a big $hit sandwich being made and pretty soon it is going to be passed around and we're all going to have to take a bite. That means everyone, at least that is getting paid by the taxpayer. It also has to start at the top.
It really is no example for top leadership to cut the pay of the workers and then give themselves a raise as a reward for saving the taxpayers a big chunk of change. Leadership means setting an example and it is time for the top dogs to set one.
That doesn't seem too likely.
Can you picture Congress voting on their own pay cut?
I'm waiting, but I'll know when it is going to happen.
When I hear that Mother Teresa got busted for shooting two cops that were trying to take her in for posession of blow and solicitation of prostitution I'll start watching for Congress to cut their own pay.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Right now the issue in Wisconsin over public unions bargaining power is not over at this time. There will be a lot of bellyaching no matter how the issue turns out and the Republicans will get beat up over this issue for years to come.
I wonder if the mean old Republicans that are trying to rein in public union power are doing this to be mean or because they have actually learned to count.
I am not one to upeset the apple cart and if the public unions can figure a way to let some public employee retire and draw double pay for life after a brief period of service, then that's just fine by me. Hell, I'd sign right up. Of course, it is not very likely to happen.
Fact is that pensions are nothing more than money that is being given to someone that is no longer producing, plain and simple. It is a drain on the resource that is supplying it.
Before any of you pensioners go off on that statement and start in on how you gave the best years of your life, yada yada yada, stop and think for a second. What are you doing now? Are you still actively producing in the field you are drawing your pension from? Of course not, you are retired. You are Drawing a pension.
Pensions of most kinds were originally designed to keep a person too old to work from being a burden on everyone else. They were not designed so that a forty-five year old could spend the rest of his life on the golf course. Of course, there are not a whole lot of people in their forties that golf all day, but you can see the point I am making. Most people that retire from a career at an early age do something else for a while. Some start another career and work toward another pension.
A pension fund is a little like a salmon run. In order for it to keep fishermen in fish it has to be taken care of. A salmon run can sustain a limited group of fishermen with a living wage for generations if it is managed properly or it can be overfished make a few people rich for a couple years and the resource ends there.
Same holds true for pension funds. They have to be sustainable. The money has to come from somewhere.
Where?
One of the maritime unions used to have a twenty and out policy, whereby after twenty years of service a man could retire from the maritime business and collect a pension. This means that someone that entered the business at the age of twenty could start drawing something at the ripe old age of forty.
That got changed a while back as it wasn't sustainable. They decided that the money wasn't there to be able to pay a person a lifetime pension after only twenty years of service.
Let's look at a forty year old retiree that lives for another thirty-five years at half-pay for life.
Over the remaining thirty-five years of his life, he draws half pay which equals to being 17.5 years of fulll pay, adjusted for inflation over the years. He will collect this pension for 1.5 times the number of years he worked. This doesn't even start to get into the health insurance, etc that goes with the retirement package.
All of this is fine and dandy if the money is there to pay him. I don't care. It isn't coming out of my pocket.
Truth is, the public sector has come quite a way over the past umpteen years. It used to be that the public sector was really a trade-off career. It used to pay quite a bit less than its private counterpart. The trade off was security.
Years ago, the public sector, that paid somewhat less than the private sector was a secure way to go. A person so employed pretty much didn't have to worry a whole lot about layoffs and how well the company was doing. They knew that their check would be there and on time. They also knew that they would be given a modest retirement that would permit them to live out their final years in quiet dignity.
The trade-off meant that while the private sector employee was driving, for example, a Pontiac or Buick with a V-8, the public employee would likely scoot around town in a six-cylinder Ford or Chevy and maybe lived in a somewhat smaller house. Still, there was generally enough income that if the public employee was frugal, they could afford to raise a couple of kids and send them to a halfway decent college.
What has changed over the past several years is that many areas of the public sector have unionized and as a result, have collectively bargained their way up to the point where working for the government seems like it is now the way to go. In many cases the public sector is paying one hell of a lot more than the private sector does, and when you add in the benefit package and early retirement possibilities there is no wonder that the people that used to head for the big money in the private sector are running straight to government jobs.
Now they can have their cake and eat it, too. They can have the Buicks and Pontiacs and live in the big house on the hill and be secure. On top of that, they can retire early!
All this is good until someone asks the ugly question; who is paying for it?
The answer, of course, is that we all are.
My pay is sent directly to the bank electronically. I can actually look at my watch and see if I can go down to the bank and start in on paying bills. Unless I call the bank, I have no way of knowing how much money is in the bank until my pay voucher arrives in the mail a couple of days later. When I open the envelope I grind my teeth when I see how much I have coughed up in taxes.
This has not been as good a year for me as last year was, I have made a little less and paid a lot more in taxes this year, according to my tax papers and records.
While I understand that the taxes I pay are part of the cost of living in as nice a place as the United States, it galls the hell out of me that the powers that be are so damned generous with my wages.
Where is it all going? What is the government doing with my money?
Of course, some of it is going toward paying public pensions, and while I have little or no problem with the way it used to be, the way it is now leaves me a little miffed.
The teachers these days are among the biggest examples. Backed by NEA and other teachers unions, they really irk me. They work 180 days per year and want 100K per annum, which is one hell of a lot of money for a job that gives them summers off and sabbatical leave time.
Teachers seem to think that they are so great because they teach, but there is a lot of truth to the old saw. Those that can, do. Those that can't, teach.(The third part of this old saw is that those that can do neither become administrators.)
The biggest insult of a justification that I have ever heard a teacher use to justify a raise is that back in the 60s teachers were really underpaid.
Bullshit.
Not one of those teachers was forced to teach. They agreed to do the job for the pay offered. All of them had college degrees and as a result had other options. They obviously wanted to teach otherwise they would have done something else.
Also, even if they were so underpaid, how in the hell os overpaying a current teacher going to settle the so-called injustice given to the teachers of the 60s? Virtually all of the teachers that taught in the 60s are now retired. If anyone is entitled to the back pay it is them and not todays breed of teacher.
In fact, by such reasoning we ought to give every black person in the country that can prove that their ancestors were slaves a big, huge compensation check. We all know how that idea will go over. Park it alongside the clown who suggested putting screen doors in submarines.
One other small thing; If you teachers are so great, then why are we raising a generation of idiots that graduate from college that can't read and write, or more importantly, can't count. Raises to teachers should be based on merit, period. If you send a class forward that has actually learned something, fine. If not, too bad.
I don't mind paying government employees that are now too old to work, but I really don't like the idea of paying someone that golfing four times a week or is now working on his second pension and planning on double-dipping in a couple of years. As a society we seem to put a little too much stock into recreation.
It should be noted here that my Old School mother in law proudly kept working as a Registered Nurse well into her 80s. One can call the woman a double dipper because she was collecting Social Security while working full time, but the arguement holds little water. She had to collect her Social Security by law.
I read a story where a correctional officer felt he was getting screwed by the nasty old Republicans because now he had to make a choice between simply collecting a pension or coming into work. He had started drawing a retirement pension and was still coming into work at his job and getting paid his regular wage on top of his pension. Poor baby.
(There are exceptions like Sheila, an old friend of mine from High School. She got out of college and became a state social worker of some sort and worked her required years so she could pull a pension and live her dream. She now works for peanuts at a local non-profit food bank and loves it, but she has dedicated her life to helping others. She'll probably die while helping others. I respect that.)
People are now living a lot longer than they used to and that means that pension plans of all sorts, including Social Security have to pay out a lot more for a lot longer length of time. That means more money. Where is it going to come from? We have already backed up the age of retirement a couple of years for some. The next likely step is reduced benefits. What comes after that?
In addition to that, Congress, with their well known, world renowned generosity with other people's money has allowed an awful lot of people to dip out of the pot they have not paid into.
At present, things are not sustainable. The only solution is to raise more money. Maybe the government will start having bake sales, but it is not likely. What is likely is more taxation.
You simply can not take more out of a pot than you have put into it. You can not run anything of a deficeit for very long.
The answer is that sometime soon Joe Workingman is going to see a whole lot less of his pay come payday and he will notice that there is now a lot more being taken out to pay for things he will never receive. Right now there are a lot of people asking if Social Security is going to even be there when he retires.
The whole issue here that has started in Wisconsin is not that the government is being mean or cruel and doesn't like the working person. The issue here s that someone there has learned to count and the numbers are not adding up to be able to permit state employees to write their own pension plans.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. There is a big $hit sandwich being made and pretty soon it is going to be passed around and we're all going to have to take a bite. That means everyone, at least that is getting paid by the taxpayer. It also has to start at the top.
It really is no example for top leadership to cut the pay of the workers and then give themselves a raise as a reward for saving the taxpayers a big chunk of change. Leadership means setting an example and it is time for the top dogs to set one.
That doesn't seem too likely.
Can you picture Congress voting on their own pay cut?
I'm waiting, but I'll know when it is going to happen.
When I hear that Mother Teresa got busted for shooting two cops that were trying to take her in for posession of blow and solicitation of prostitution I'll start watching for Congress to cut their own pay.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
No I do not want to keep the poor and minorities down.
I listened to some crap a while ago about some kind of evil conspiracy to keep the Black man down and it is the biggest bucket of hogwash I have ever heard in my entire life. It makes no sense to me whatsoever.
Why would I logically want to keep someone down? There is simpy nothing in it for me by keeping a person down, and when you get right down to it, keeping someone down is pretty stupid.
I don't want the poor to stay poor and I don't want the minorities to be kept down. I want them to succeed and get ahead.
The truth is that in this country the poor cost the rest of us a lot of money. They utilize many of the social welfare programs and that has to be paid for somehow. Of course, it comes out of out hard earned tax dollars. Those of us that have jobs, careers and that sort of thing get walloped every year come 15 April right in the back pocket. A good chunk of that money goes to take care of the poor. If the poor stop being poor and take care of themselves then the government (meaning the taxpayers) might just be able to save a few bucks for themselves.
This would be the ultimate win/win situation.
I'd get to see a bigger chunk of my weekly pay because I wouldn't be coughing it every week to the government to give to someone else. Who knows? Maybe I could afford a better brand of beer or something. That would be nice.
Besides, Martin Luther King once said that for every black man in the gutter there was a white man holding him down there.
Assuming what he said is true, I'll let you in on a little secret.
I have a whole lot better things to do than sit in some damned gutter and hold someone down.
For one thing, it would take from the time I spend drinking beer with Neighbor Bob. That's just the beginning of a very long list of things I consider more important than sitting in a gutter. I won't begin to post the list here.
To the guy that was talking about the evil conspiracy to keep the Black man down, all I can say is that if you spent about half the time and effort trying to get ahead instead of whining and feeling sorry for yourself, than we'd both be a whole lot happier.
Then again, there are just some people that are not happy unless they are miserable.
Of course, maybe he is like Brother Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson because HE doesn't want minorities to be successful because if they become successful they will be out of a job.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Why would I logically want to keep someone down? There is simpy nothing in it for me by keeping a person down, and when you get right down to it, keeping someone down is pretty stupid.
I don't want the poor to stay poor and I don't want the minorities to be kept down. I want them to succeed and get ahead.
The truth is that in this country the poor cost the rest of us a lot of money. They utilize many of the social welfare programs and that has to be paid for somehow. Of course, it comes out of out hard earned tax dollars. Those of us that have jobs, careers and that sort of thing get walloped every year come 15 April right in the back pocket. A good chunk of that money goes to take care of the poor. If the poor stop being poor and take care of themselves then the government (meaning the taxpayers) might just be able to save a few bucks for themselves.
This would be the ultimate win/win situation.
I'd get to see a bigger chunk of my weekly pay because I wouldn't be coughing it every week to the government to give to someone else. Who knows? Maybe I could afford a better brand of beer or something. That would be nice.
Besides, Martin Luther King once said that for every black man in the gutter there was a white man holding him down there.
Assuming what he said is true, I'll let you in on a little secret.
I have a whole lot better things to do than sit in some damned gutter and hold someone down.
For one thing, it would take from the time I spend drinking beer with Neighbor Bob. That's just the beginning of a very long list of things I consider more important than sitting in a gutter. I won't begin to post the list here.
To the guy that was talking about the evil conspiracy to keep the Black man down, all I can say is that if you spent about half the time and effort trying to get ahead instead of whining and feeling sorry for yourself, than we'd both be a whole lot happier.
Then again, there are just some people that are not happy unless they are miserable.
Of course, maybe he is like Brother Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson because HE doesn't want minorities to be successful because if they become successful they will be out of a job.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Monday, March 28, 2011
Mandatory 10-20% down required for housing loans is a good idea
I just read somewhere that the powers that be are considering making a decent 10 to 20% down payment on a home to be mandatory.
It actually makes a lot of sense when you think about it. There were a lot of people that got in over their head a while ago and bought homes they could not afford to make the payments on for either little or no money down. When push came to shove, they simply walked away from the loan and left the rest of us to pay it for their irresponsibility.
The banks would get stuck with a home they had to resell at distress rates and they lost money in addition to the aggravation of having to reposess a home and resell it. The person who couldn't afford it, but bought it anyway simply skated away.
Now the do-gooders in this nation of ours are griping that it would make it a whole lot harder for minorities and the poor to get into a house.
That is starting to get old as far as I can see.
Let's look at housing first. Owning a house is not a right given to us under the Constitution. It is simply another thing you buy with your earnings. It is like a car or a table or a can of beans in that respect. You either take a wad of cash out and pay for it or you go to the bank and float a loan. Most people do the latter, as they have not yet amassed the required savings to be able to buy a home outright.
The home mortgage is somewhat of an American tradition. I have attended a number of mortgage burning parties over the years as friends and neighbors have made their final payment and have become outright owners of their family homes.
The other part I'll cover is that the do-gooders are carrying on that minorities and the poor will not be able to own a home. I'm growning pretty tired of hearing that one, too.
Right now I have a neighbor that is putting three-count 'em-3 children through college all at the same time. He didn't just write a check out of the old savings account to do this because he is a working man and has not been able to amass enough money to do this. There are college loans and various scholarships that have been taken advantage of to do this. He reported to me that it would be a whole lot easier if he were a minority. I have heard this said before. I'll probably hear it again somewhere else along the line.
Right now it is a whole lot easier for the poor and the minorities to get a decent education and get ahead. All they have to do is sign up and get with the program. Yes, the loans do have to be paid back, but there are one hell of a lot of non-minority young people right now doing just that. Paying the student loans back.
The opportunity to get out of the cycle of poverty is there to anyone with the brains and drive to take advantage of it. All you have to do is get off of your dead ass and onto your dying feet and go for it. The foundation for a good life is there. All a person does is has to take advantage of it.
Now as far as the banks go, one simply has to look at what they do. They are in the business of making money, which is what just about all businesses are in the business of. The banks make their money by loaning it to people for things they don't have the cash to purchase outright. The most well known examples of this are cars and homes.
They loan money and the borrower pays it back with interest. We all know how that works.
The problem with no money down loans is two-fold. First the borrower really has nothing in it and can simply walk away from the home with nothing to lose. This makes it a bit too easy for someone to be irresponsible and just jump into something they can't afford. When you have nothing invested, you have nothing to lose.
On the other hand, when you are going to cough up, say, twenty-five or thirty grand for a down payment on a house, you generally look a little more carefully as to whether you are going to be able to make the payments on the place. When you have something to lose you tend to act a little more responsible.
Of course, no matter what there will be the few that manage to lose on this deal and they will naturally blame the nasty old bank and say that they have been taken advantage of because they have lost both their down payment and whatever they have paid on the loan. They will claim the bank has gotten rich from people like them.
Let's look at the mean old bank for a second.
The bank really does not want to reposess a home. It is nothing more to them than a big hassle and even with a hefty down payment the liklihood of them making any real money on a reposession deal is pretty slim. The legal fees of reposession, the fees associated with selling the place to someone else and the cost of repairs generally eats up most if not all of the money paid into the home.
When you add in the repairs necessary to make a place marketable all bets are off, as the majority of people that default on a loan generally do not take care of the home in the first place. The horror stories regarding the condition of reposessed homes are pretty well known.
The banks don't reposess a home and then get to sell it the next day as a step right up, move right in with your charming wife and lovely 3.2 children into this beautiful Martha Stewart approved gorgeous brand new home. The place is more than likely a pig sty and needs repairs and/or serious renovation to be marketable. This costs money.
In short, in most cases when a bank repossesses a home it costs them a lot of money and aggravation. The bank really does not want the home, they simply want your money. In fact, they will generally work with you if you hit tough times so they don't have to repossess your home. They simply do not want it.
I know of one such person that found himself injured and out of work for a while that had the brains to go straight to the bank and explain circumstances. The bank altered his payments so he could keep his house and pay what he could afford until he went back to work. Granted, the money was added on and it took him a few of extra months to pay the loan off, but he kept his house. Banks generally have a skilled loan officer there to help with such things that come up.
To put it simply, the banks do not want you to fail because it is simply not in their best interests. The ideal borrower is simply someone that takes out a twenty year loan and quietly makes the 240 monthly payments and takes the deed to the house when the last payment is made.
While requiring a 20% down payment is not going to guarantee that the borrower will pay for a home, it sure increases the odds and at least allows the bank to recover something if the borrower defaults.
I don't have a problem with that
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
It actually makes a lot of sense when you think about it. There were a lot of people that got in over their head a while ago and bought homes they could not afford to make the payments on for either little or no money down. When push came to shove, they simply walked away from the loan and left the rest of us to pay it for their irresponsibility.
The banks would get stuck with a home they had to resell at distress rates and they lost money in addition to the aggravation of having to reposess a home and resell it. The person who couldn't afford it, but bought it anyway simply skated away.
Now the do-gooders in this nation of ours are griping that it would make it a whole lot harder for minorities and the poor to get into a house.
That is starting to get old as far as I can see.
Let's look at housing first. Owning a house is not a right given to us under the Constitution. It is simply another thing you buy with your earnings. It is like a car or a table or a can of beans in that respect. You either take a wad of cash out and pay for it or you go to the bank and float a loan. Most people do the latter, as they have not yet amassed the required savings to be able to buy a home outright.
The home mortgage is somewhat of an American tradition. I have attended a number of mortgage burning parties over the years as friends and neighbors have made their final payment and have become outright owners of their family homes.
The other part I'll cover is that the do-gooders are carrying on that minorities and the poor will not be able to own a home. I'm growning pretty tired of hearing that one, too.
Right now I have a neighbor that is putting three-count 'em-3 children through college all at the same time. He didn't just write a check out of the old savings account to do this because he is a working man and has not been able to amass enough money to do this. There are college loans and various scholarships that have been taken advantage of to do this. He reported to me that it would be a whole lot easier if he were a minority. I have heard this said before. I'll probably hear it again somewhere else along the line.
Right now it is a whole lot easier for the poor and the minorities to get a decent education and get ahead. All they have to do is sign up and get with the program. Yes, the loans do have to be paid back, but there are one hell of a lot of non-minority young people right now doing just that. Paying the student loans back.
The opportunity to get out of the cycle of poverty is there to anyone with the brains and drive to take advantage of it. All you have to do is get off of your dead ass and onto your dying feet and go for it. The foundation for a good life is there. All a person does is has to take advantage of it.
Now as far as the banks go, one simply has to look at what they do. They are in the business of making money, which is what just about all businesses are in the business of. The banks make their money by loaning it to people for things they don't have the cash to purchase outright. The most well known examples of this are cars and homes.
They loan money and the borrower pays it back with interest. We all know how that works.
The problem with no money down loans is two-fold. First the borrower really has nothing in it and can simply walk away from the home with nothing to lose. This makes it a bit too easy for someone to be irresponsible and just jump into something they can't afford. When you have nothing invested, you have nothing to lose.
On the other hand, when you are going to cough up, say, twenty-five or thirty grand for a down payment on a house, you generally look a little more carefully as to whether you are going to be able to make the payments on the place. When you have something to lose you tend to act a little more responsible.
Of course, no matter what there will be the few that manage to lose on this deal and they will naturally blame the nasty old bank and say that they have been taken advantage of because they have lost both their down payment and whatever they have paid on the loan. They will claim the bank has gotten rich from people like them.
Let's look at the mean old bank for a second.
The bank really does not want to reposess a home. It is nothing more to them than a big hassle and even with a hefty down payment the liklihood of them making any real money on a reposession deal is pretty slim. The legal fees of reposession, the fees associated with selling the place to someone else and the cost of repairs generally eats up most if not all of the money paid into the home.
When you add in the repairs necessary to make a place marketable all bets are off, as the majority of people that default on a loan generally do not take care of the home in the first place. The horror stories regarding the condition of reposessed homes are pretty well known.
The banks don't reposess a home and then get to sell it the next day as a step right up, move right in with your charming wife and lovely 3.2 children into this beautiful Martha Stewart approved gorgeous brand new home. The place is more than likely a pig sty and needs repairs and/or serious renovation to be marketable. This costs money.
In short, in most cases when a bank repossesses a home it costs them a lot of money and aggravation. The bank really does not want the home, they simply want your money. In fact, they will generally work with you if you hit tough times so they don't have to repossess your home. They simply do not want it.
I know of one such person that found himself injured and out of work for a while that had the brains to go straight to the bank and explain circumstances. The bank altered his payments so he could keep his house and pay what he could afford until he went back to work. Granted, the money was added on and it took him a few of extra months to pay the loan off, but he kept his house. Banks generally have a skilled loan officer there to help with such things that come up.
To put it simply, the banks do not want you to fail because it is simply not in their best interests. The ideal borrower is simply someone that takes out a twenty year loan and quietly makes the 240 monthly payments and takes the deed to the house when the last payment is made.
While requiring a 20% down payment is not going to guarantee that the borrower will pay for a home, it sure increases the odds and at least allows the bank to recover something if the borrower defaults.
I don't have a problem with that
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Sunday, March 27, 2011
There is something going on in the neighborhood.
And I can't for the life of me figure it out.
Police patrol activity has increased and I see a lot more police cars going through the area. I'm not the only one that seems to have noticed it, all the neighbors have and we can't figure it out.
Generally the best way to get to the bottom of something is to out and out ask and see what kind of reply you get so the other day I pulled up to a parked police officer and asked. I got what I expected, vague answers and nothing specific. He didn't seem very receptive to my questions even though I told him the entire neighborhood was wondering what is going on. His attitude seemed to be a bit defensive.
I guess I am just going to have to keep my eyes open a little more. It is obvious that something is going on and that the police are not really talking. I think I'm going to put a bug in the ears of my neighbors to keep their eyes open and their cell phones handy.
My instinct tells me that I really don't have to start running around armed all the time, but I think that on the home front I'll keep something that shoots handy. That's no change, as there generally is something that shoots handy around the Piccolo residence.
I think that the reason that the police are being so vague about things is because they don't want to get people upset and up in arms. I can see their point to a certain degree.
While having a neighborhood up in arms keeping their eyes open for the forces of evil can be a good thing, it can also lead to horrible results. Most people are either untrained or poorly trained and that can be disasterious. There is nothing worse out there than a worked up idiot packing a pistol and either so paranoid that he will shoot anything or worse yet, a guy with an attitude that is out and out looking for an excuse to pop someone.
I sort of figure that the average guy has pretty good judgement and would probably reach for the proper tool if he encountered anything that looked shady; he'd reach for his cell phone and call the police. However, not everyone has that attitude. All it takes to turn something into a real mess is for some idiot that wants to be a hero to decide to take action on his own. Then you have big trouble on your hands. Someone would probably get hurt, most likely the hero and the ensuing legal mess would take years to clean up. Odds are that the bad guys would wind up getting rich and skate, after they took a laughing walk to the bank.
I've wondered whether to try and organize some sort of a neighborhood watch program, but I think that if I do I'll be met with either resistance or some sort of 'duh, gee, whiz' type of childish oversupervision on the part of the local gendarmes. The truth is, if we tried to officially organize something it would probably mean that the police would spend more time watching the watch program people than they would watching around for whatever it is that they are looking for.
I think I know how I'm going to handle this and that is to simply have a little talk with my core neighbors. I'll tell them that whatever is going on, the gendarmes are keeping this under wraps and to simply keep their eyes open and their cell phones handy. This is probably going to be a waste of time because if I know them they are already doing this. The neighbors around here are generally pretty good about stuff like this.
Still, I wish I knew what was going on.
I see a few reasons for the police putting a lid on this, some hold water, some don't. I can see keeping it quiet to keep the people from arming themselves and getting all worried. I can see not wanting some mouth to open and tip off the wrong people. All this makes sense if we are talking about a specific target.
But if there is some kind of increase in crime going on, then it makes sense to put some sunshine on it and get the locals to keep their eyes open. Robert Peel, the father of modern policing, said the following:
"The police are the public and the public are the police; the police being only members of the public who are paid to give full time attention to duties which are incumbent on every citizen in the interests of community welfare and existence."
There's more than a grain of truth to that. The people have to get involved for the system to work, and the police have to get over the "Us versus Them" attitude that many of them seem to carry with them.
I have seen over the years that the best and most successful police officers have been the ones that are true 'people persons' that actually like to communicate with the neighborhood people and know how to both talk and listen. I used to have a damned good go-to guy on the force. Once in a while he would let me know what was going on. It helped, and it was also a two way street as he knew that letting me know what was going on meant another pair of eyes on the street.
Of course, he got promoted and is now working somewhere else which now is good for him, yet now does me no good. Oh, well.
I think that over the weekend I will just have a quiet little word with the neighbors remind them that keeping their eyes open and their cell phones handy might be a good idea.
Of course, maybe this entire thing is unwarranted. This could simply be a case where the local police department has gotten some money somewhere and has decided to spend it by hiring a couple more officers and stepping up police activity. I sort of doubt this, though.
I don't know what they're looking for but whatever it is, I hope they find it soon. This matter has me concerned.
Update: This is not limited to my neighborhood. According to a few others I have run into over the past day or so it is all over town, so maybe it is a case of getting more money and hiring a few more officers. Still, I've had a word with a couple neighbors about keeping their eyes open and their phones handy.
Another thing. I pitched the Jack Daniels bottles Bob brought by yesterday.(See yesterday's post) When police activity changes it is also generally followed by a major change in attitude on the part of the force. Instead of just seeing if we are actually drinking on the porch, instead of seeing we are not and simply driving off, we will probably get hassled. So at least until things settle down a bit it is time to fly under the radar. That means no fireworks and things of that nature for a while.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Police patrol activity has increased and I see a lot more police cars going through the area. I'm not the only one that seems to have noticed it, all the neighbors have and we can't figure it out.
Generally the best way to get to the bottom of something is to out and out ask and see what kind of reply you get so the other day I pulled up to a parked police officer and asked. I got what I expected, vague answers and nothing specific. He didn't seem very receptive to my questions even though I told him the entire neighborhood was wondering what is going on. His attitude seemed to be a bit defensive.
I guess I am just going to have to keep my eyes open a little more. It is obvious that something is going on and that the police are not really talking. I think I'm going to put a bug in the ears of my neighbors to keep their eyes open and their cell phones handy.
My instinct tells me that I really don't have to start running around armed all the time, but I think that on the home front I'll keep something that shoots handy. That's no change, as there generally is something that shoots handy around the Piccolo residence.
I think that the reason that the police are being so vague about things is because they don't want to get people upset and up in arms. I can see their point to a certain degree.
While having a neighborhood up in arms keeping their eyes open for the forces of evil can be a good thing, it can also lead to horrible results. Most people are either untrained or poorly trained and that can be disasterious. There is nothing worse out there than a worked up idiot packing a pistol and either so paranoid that he will shoot anything or worse yet, a guy with an attitude that is out and out looking for an excuse to pop someone.
I sort of figure that the average guy has pretty good judgement and would probably reach for the proper tool if he encountered anything that looked shady; he'd reach for his cell phone and call the police. However, not everyone has that attitude. All it takes to turn something into a real mess is for some idiot that wants to be a hero to decide to take action on his own. Then you have big trouble on your hands. Someone would probably get hurt, most likely the hero and the ensuing legal mess would take years to clean up. Odds are that the bad guys would wind up getting rich and skate, after they took a laughing walk to the bank.
I've wondered whether to try and organize some sort of a neighborhood watch program, but I think that if I do I'll be met with either resistance or some sort of 'duh, gee, whiz' type of childish oversupervision on the part of the local gendarmes. The truth is, if we tried to officially organize something it would probably mean that the police would spend more time watching the watch program people than they would watching around for whatever it is that they are looking for.
I think I know how I'm going to handle this and that is to simply have a little talk with my core neighbors. I'll tell them that whatever is going on, the gendarmes are keeping this under wraps and to simply keep their eyes open and their cell phones handy. This is probably going to be a waste of time because if I know them they are already doing this. The neighbors around here are generally pretty good about stuff like this.
Still, I wish I knew what was going on.
I see a few reasons for the police putting a lid on this, some hold water, some don't. I can see keeping it quiet to keep the people from arming themselves and getting all worried. I can see not wanting some mouth to open and tip off the wrong people. All this makes sense if we are talking about a specific target.
But if there is some kind of increase in crime going on, then it makes sense to put some sunshine on it and get the locals to keep their eyes open. Robert Peel, the father of modern policing, said the following:
"The police are the public and the public are the police; the police being only members of the public who are paid to give full time attention to duties which are incumbent on every citizen in the interests of community welfare and existence."
There's more than a grain of truth to that. The people have to get involved for the system to work, and the police have to get over the "Us versus Them" attitude that many of them seem to carry with them.
I have seen over the years that the best and most successful police officers have been the ones that are true 'people persons' that actually like to communicate with the neighborhood people and know how to both talk and listen. I used to have a damned good go-to guy on the force. Once in a while he would let me know what was going on. It helped, and it was also a two way street as he knew that letting me know what was going on meant another pair of eyes on the street.
Of course, he got promoted and is now working somewhere else which now is good for him, yet now does me no good. Oh, well.
I think that over the weekend I will just have a quiet little word with the neighbors remind them that keeping their eyes open and their cell phones handy might be a good idea.
Of course, maybe this entire thing is unwarranted. This could simply be a case where the local police department has gotten some money somewhere and has decided to spend it by hiring a couple more officers and stepping up police activity. I sort of doubt this, though.
I don't know what they're looking for but whatever it is, I hope they find it soon. This matter has me concerned.
Update: This is not limited to my neighborhood. According to a few others I have run into over the past day or so it is all over town, so maybe it is a case of getting more money and hiring a few more officers. Still, I've had a word with a couple neighbors about keeping their eyes open and their phones handy.
Another thing. I pitched the Jack Daniels bottles Bob brought by yesterday.(See yesterday's post) When police activity changes it is also generally followed by a major change in attitude on the part of the force. Instead of just seeing if we are actually drinking on the porch, instead of seeing we are not and simply driving off, we will probably get hassled. So at least until things settle down a bit it is time to fly under the radar. That means no fireworks and things of that nature for a while.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Friday, March 25, 2011
Neighbor Bob just came over with a pair of empty Jack Daniels bottles
and about a gallon of iced tea.
I looked up and asked him if it was time to slap Sally-down-the-street around a bit and he nodded. She's been stirring up trouble lately because she doesn't have a life.
Service rifle season is coming up and that means that the gear will come out of the footlocker and be gone over. The shooting mat will be scrubbed, the scope stand gone over and slicked up, the sight smoker will have the orifice cleaned and new carbide loaded and the water bottle filled.
Then the service rifles will be gone over.They will be detail stripped and cleaned well and lubricated properly.
The whole kit and kaboodle will come out and be placed on the porch along with the pair of whisky bottles half fillled with iced tea, which we will be seen drinking out of.
Of course, the other neighbors will see us there cleaning rifles and drinking iced tea and they will wonder why we are drinking our iced tea out of Jack Daniels bottles but will say nothing.
Except Sally, who will be driving by for her Saturday shopping and will instantly call the police and tell them that there are two guys on the Piccolo porch drinking whisky and pointing guns at people.
Needless to say, as soon as Sally drives by we will replace the whisky bottles with a couple of jugs of iced tea and when the police arrive they will find two guys drinking iced tea with a pair of torn down service rifles that they are working laboriously on.
The officer will be annoyed with being called out for nothing and Sally will wind up with another pain in the ass mark on her record.
Something like this seems to happen about every other year.
It's been a while since Sally got her cage rattled and was reminded that she ought to stop creating trouble where there is none and simply go somewhere and get herself a life instead of bringing problems into everyone else's.
Then again, I really ought to simply throw the bottles in the trash and clean the rifles in the basemant because by doing the aforementioned we will simply waste our time.
If any good were to come out of making a fool out of Sally, I suppose I would, but no good will come out of it.
That's because you can't fix stupid.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
I looked up and asked him if it was time to slap Sally-down-the-street around a bit and he nodded. She's been stirring up trouble lately because she doesn't have a life.
Service rifle season is coming up and that means that the gear will come out of the footlocker and be gone over. The shooting mat will be scrubbed, the scope stand gone over and slicked up, the sight smoker will have the orifice cleaned and new carbide loaded and the water bottle filled.
Then the service rifles will be gone over.They will be detail stripped and cleaned well and lubricated properly.
The whole kit and kaboodle will come out and be placed on the porch along with the pair of whisky bottles half fillled with iced tea, which we will be seen drinking out of.
Of course, the other neighbors will see us there cleaning rifles and drinking iced tea and they will wonder why we are drinking our iced tea out of Jack Daniels bottles but will say nothing.
Except Sally, who will be driving by for her Saturday shopping and will instantly call the police and tell them that there are two guys on the Piccolo porch drinking whisky and pointing guns at people.
Needless to say, as soon as Sally drives by we will replace the whisky bottles with a couple of jugs of iced tea and when the police arrive they will find two guys drinking iced tea with a pair of torn down service rifles that they are working laboriously on.
The officer will be annoyed with being called out for nothing and Sally will wind up with another pain in the ass mark on her record.
Something like this seems to happen about every other year.
It's been a while since Sally got her cage rattled and was reminded that she ought to stop creating trouble where there is none and simply go somewhere and get herself a life instead of bringing problems into everyone else's.
Then again, I really ought to simply throw the bottles in the trash and clean the rifles in the basemant because by doing the aforementioned we will simply waste our time.
If any good were to come out of making a fool out of Sally, I suppose I would, but no good will come out of it.
That's because you can't fix stupid.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Thursday, March 24, 2011
I hope I represent Americans well in this blog.
There is a spot that comes with the blog called 'statistics' and every so often when I get bored I check it.
I can see how many hits I have gotten on a certain day, what links they have used to find the blog and what countries they are reading it from. I have a number of occasional overseas readers which is just great.
I would imagine that a number of these overseas 'hit' on this blog come from expatriated Americans; people like GIs and maybe embassy people, but not all of them. I would imagine that a few of the readers are nationals of the country that they are reading this blog from.
To these people I would like to say that I am not an average American by a long shot. Then again, maybe I am.
Our coins have the words 'E. Pluribus Unum' stamped on them. It is Latin and means 'of many, one'.
I am simply one of many people that make this country of ours what is is.
If you ave been reading this blog for any length of time, you probably know I have had a pretty varied and somewhat checkered career. I have been a soldier, a commercial fisherman, a carpenter, a cab driver and I am presently employed as a seaman. For a short time I actually worked as a cowboy.
I guess that if anything is recognized as being American, it is the cowboy.
While I would love to be posting my adventures in Dodge City and the shootouts I had with the forces of evil, that was not the case. I didn't get to ride off into the sunset on a fiery white steed, either.
I did, though, have a revolver but it was not strapped to my hip. Generally it was in the glove compartment of the pickup I drove around when I was mending fences which was pretty much a full time job. The couple of times I worked the fence on horseback, the revolver stayed in the saddle bags.
I recall using only twice. Once to put an injured animal down and the other time I used it to put a hole in a board because I was too lazy to get a drill. I did, however gun down a number of tin cans one afternoon.
I wore a straw western hat to keep the sun off of my head, but sometimes I opted for a baseball cap. I also wore western boots, jeans and a western shirt and had a bandanna around my neck. This was actually a pretty practical outfiit for that kind of work, but I have to admit that there was a certain amount of pride in being a cowboy so I dressed the part, too.
It was hard work, but it was fun sometimes. There is a certain satisfaction to having been an American Icon at one time in my life, even if it was for a brief period between jobs.
On Saturday nights, I'll admit that I sometimes went into town and drank a few beers but I never did tear up a saloon. Even back then the idea of spending a night breaking chairs over each other's heads wasn't too appealing. Things like that made for painful Sunday mornings if you were lucky enough not to wind up in the hospital.
I guess another image of Americans is that we are all rich, which is really somewhat of a relative thing. If you are living hand to mouth in some third-world slum somewhere unable to find enough to eat on any kind of a regular basis, that someone that is well fed is pretty rich. I've always managed to get enough to eat so to some people I am rich.
The fact is that I work for wages just like the majority of other Americans.
I'll say this, though. The reason I am not wealthy is because I have never aspired to getting rich. I suppose that if I had decided to amass some kind of fortune I very well would have. The opportunity to do this is here for anyone smart enough and willing to work at it. I guess you could say that it is part of the American Dream. It is still very much alive. When you look at Bill Gates, he really is nobody too special. He's just a guy that got an idea somewhere and ran with it. He never finished college and started Microsoft in a garage somewhere.
Unlike a lot of my fellow Americans that get a little cocky and take this country for granted, I do not. Not a day goes by that I am not grateful for the opportunities given to me to live the way I do. My hero is the American GI, as he generally insures that nobody will take my way of life away from me.
Like many Americans, I am pretty much a do-it-yourselfer. I do almost all of my own work around the house and almost all of the maintenance on my vehicle. When cars were a little simpler back in the day I used to replace my own engines in my back yard or in a friends barn. Why should I pay for someone to do what I can do myself?
I have to say that the part of this country that breeds such a people like Americans is that we are pretty much in posession of certain freedoms and rights. What that boils down to for the most part is that if you don't like something, you are given the opportunity to change it. That holds true to an awful lot. People have changed governmental policies here just by making it clear to their representatives what they want done. If enough people raise enough hell with the elected officials, they generally overcome and get what they want. Sometimes it takes some doing, though.
One of the things we have in this country is a right to keep arms. Since I was a child I have owned firearms and have fired countless rounds but have never injured anyone. The last thing in the world I want to do is to shoot someone. Then again, if the forces of evil decide they want to invade the Piccolo residence then they will be in for a pretty rude reception. I have no desire to be harmed in my own home.
Our constitution also permits that we enjoy a freedom of religion and I believe that to be a good thing. I truly believe in a persons right to worship as they see fit until they try and make their religion into something that I have to follow. Then watch out. I have no time for people that want to force their religion on me, no matter what it is. Although I have Roman Catholic roots, as far as I am concerned, the Pope has no business telling Americans how to run their lives. The same goes for Sharia law in this country. I simply do not want any part of it. If you want to force your religious views on someone else, than just leave. Go away. I don't want you around me.
I believe there is room in this nation for people of just about all faiths and I have a number of friends, acquatinances and co workers that are of varying religions. There are Christians,Jews, Hindus, Muslims and athiests that I can call a friend.
I also have friends that have moved to this country from somewhere else. For example, I sometimes have my hair cut by a Russian-born Jew. He does a pretty good job.
In some respects I am a typical American, but in a few others respects I am far from it.
There are over a quarter-billion of us, and we're all different.
I am just one of these.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
I can see how many hits I have gotten on a certain day, what links they have used to find the blog and what countries they are reading it from. I have a number of occasional overseas readers which is just great.
I would imagine that a number of these overseas 'hit' on this blog come from expatriated Americans; people like GIs and maybe embassy people, but not all of them. I would imagine that a few of the readers are nationals of the country that they are reading this blog from.
To these people I would like to say that I am not an average American by a long shot. Then again, maybe I am.
Our coins have the words 'E. Pluribus Unum' stamped on them. It is Latin and means 'of many, one'.
I am simply one of many people that make this country of ours what is is.
If you ave been reading this blog for any length of time, you probably know I have had a pretty varied and somewhat checkered career. I have been a soldier, a commercial fisherman, a carpenter, a cab driver and I am presently employed as a seaman. For a short time I actually worked as a cowboy.
I guess that if anything is recognized as being American, it is the cowboy.
While I would love to be posting my adventures in Dodge City and the shootouts I had with the forces of evil, that was not the case. I didn't get to ride off into the sunset on a fiery white steed, either.
I did, though, have a revolver but it was not strapped to my hip. Generally it was in the glove compartment of the pickup I drove around when I was mending fences which was pretty much a full time job. The couple of times I worked the fence on horseback, the revolver stayed in the saddle bags.
I recall using only twice. Once to put an injured animal down and the other time I used it to put a hole in a board because I was too lazy to get a drill. I did, however gun down a number of tin cans one afternoon.
I wore a straw western hat to keep the sun off of my head, but sometimes I opted for a baseball cap. I also wore western boots, jeans and a western shirt and had a bandanna around my neck. This was actually a pretty practical outfiit for that kind of work, but I have to admit that there was a certain amount of pride in being a cowboy so I dressed the part, too.
It was hard work, but it was fun sometimes. There is a certain satisfaction to having been an American Icon at one time in my life, even if it was for a brief period between jobs.
On Saturday nights, I'll admit that I sometimes went into town and drank a few beers but I never did tear up a saloon. Even back then the idea of spending a night breaking chairs over each other's heads wasn't too appealing. Things like that made for painful Sunday mornings if you were lucky enough not to wind up in the hospital.
I guess another image of Americans is that we are all rich, which is really somewhat of a relative thing. If you are living hand to mouth in some third-world slum somewhere unable to find enough to eat on any kind of a regular basis, that someone that is well fed is pretty rich. I've always managed to get enough to eat so to some people I am rich.
The fact is that I work for wages just like the majority of other Americans.
I'll say this, though. The reason I am not wealthy is because I have never aspired to getting rich. I suppose that if I had decided to amass some kind of fortune I very well would have. The opportunity to do this is here for anyone smart enough and willing to work at it. I guess you could say that it is part of the American Dream. It is still very much alive. When you look at Bill Gates, he really is nobody too special. He's just a guy that got an idea somewhere and ran with it. He never finished college and started Microsoft in a garage somewhere.
Unlike a lot of my fellow Americans that get a little cocky and take this country for granted, I do not. Not a day goes by that I am not grateful for the opportunities given to me to live the way I do. My hero is the American GI, as he generally insures that nobody will take my way of life away from me.
Like many Americans, I am pretty much a do-it-yourselfer. I do almost all of my own work around the house and almost all of the maintenance on my vehicle. When cars were a little simpler back in the day I used to replace my own engines in my back yard or in a friends barn. Why should I pay for someone to do what I can do myself?
I have to say that the part of this country that breeds such a people like Americans is that we are pretty much in posession of certain freedoms and rights. What that boils down to for the most part is that if you don't like something, you are given the opportunity to change it. That holds true to an awful lot. People have changed governmental policies here just by making it clear to their representatives what they want done. If enough people raise enough hell with the elected officials, they generally overcome and get what they want. Sometimes it takes some doing, though.
One of the things we have in this country is a right to keep arms. Since I was a child I have owned firearms and have fired countless rounds but have never injured anyone. The last thing in the world I want to do is to shoot someone. Then again, if the forces of evil decide they want to invade the Piccolo residence then they will be in for a pretty rude reception. I have no desire to be harmed in my own home.
Our constitution also permits that we enjoy a freedom of religion and I believe that to be a good thing. I truly believe in a persons right to worship as they see fit until they try and make their religion into something that I have to follow. Then watch out. I have no time for people that want to force their religion on me, no matter what it is. Although I have Roman Catholic roots, as far as I am concerned, the Pope has no business telling Americans how to run their lives. The same goes for Sharia law in this country. I simply do not want any part of it. If you want to force your religious views on someone else, than just leave. Go away. I don't want you around me.
I believe there is room in this nation for people of just about all faiths and I have a number of friends, acquatinances and co workers that are of varying religions. There are Christians,Jews, Hindus, Muslims and athiests that I can call a friend.
I also have friends that have moved to this country from somewhere else. For example, I sometimes have my hair cut by a Russian-born Jew. He does a pretty good job.
In some respects I am a typical American, but in a few others respects I am far from it.
There are over a quarter-billion of us, and we're all different.
I am just one of these.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
The gas company guys can't help people anymore
because some jerk ruined it for everyone else.
The other night a couple of us caught a little whiff of gas and Nurse Connie called the gas company to report it. They sent a field investigator out at once. He was there in about fifteen minutes which is a damned sight better than police response time in a lot of places. (Not here. Police response time is excellent in this township)
Anyway, he did his thing and tested and it looks like there is a small leak in the main somewhere and they will send a crew out sometime soon to tear the line up and repair/replace it. It's going to be a pretty big suck pill for someone as the main is off the road and it means lawn digging up and things of that nature.
I got to talking with the guy and I told him that just after we moved in they had to replace the line from the street to my house. He glanced at the on-board computer in his truck and told me that it had been noted. My gas line had been sleeved with a piece of plastic tubing.
I remember it well. I came out with a bunch of cold drinks for the guys that were digging the valve up so they could shut the gas to my place off. They had earlier explained to me that I would have to get a plumber or someone to have the pipe from the street to my house replaced.
That's when I looked at the entire crew and asked, "OK, which one of you guys does side jobs?"
They looked at one another and one of the guys mentioned that there was a guy on the crew working a block or two away that had a kid that had a medical condition and that he was always looking for a few extra bucks. The foreman called him up and the two of us made a deal right then and there.
The guy agreed to show up after work and square me away if I picked up the needed components. He gave me a list and about an hour or so later I returned home. I swung by to where the guy was working and he glanced at my purchases and agreed to show up after work.
He was there at the appointed time and we ran the sleeve of plastic tubing from the street to the meter next to the house and in a few minutes the end emerged by the meter where we attached it using the hardware I had just purchased. I was then good to go and the following morning the gas was turned on.
It was a good deal and a win/win situation. The gas guy had made a few extra bucks and I had saved well over a thousand bucks.
I mentioned this to the gas inspector and he gave me a wistful smile and told me that people working for the gas company could not take on side jobs anymore. I asked why.
I was given the usual reason. Some dumbass had ruined it for everyone else.
Some woman found out that her neighbor had gotten a gas company employee to come in after work and take care of his problem. The woman wanted her service taken care of and the gas employee explained to her that he couldn't fix her service with a sleeve because there was a sharp bend in her hard piping and that a sleeve couldn't make the turn. She would have to have her piping dug up and replaced.
She promptly called the gas company and complained and was the first step tooward upsetting the apple cart.
Part two, and the big upset was when someone called the gas company and whined about how much the guy charged him for a couple of hours worth of work.
While I'm sure the off-duty gas company employee charged a fair price for after-hours work, I doubt he was being all that greedy. This is another case where a complainer isn't thinking for even a second. The employee probably saved the complaining customer a fortune and this is yet another case of the old saw "No good deed goes unpunished".
The gas company then sent out a directive prohibiting employees from doing after hours jobs and that ended that.
The first woman, however learned a belated lesson about ruining things for others, though. Before the gas can be turned on the job has to be inspected and you can just bet that the inspector made sure every i was dotted and t was crossed. It cost her a fortune. I don't know what happened to the second clown.
Still, they ruined something for everyone else and that to me is a major crime.
I have posted several times in this blog that the trash guys take very good care of me.
The twit down the street has noticed that and said something to Neighbor Bob about how I seem to get preferrential treatment, which in fact I do. Then again, you have to remember that I take pretty good care of them. One hand washes the other.
Bob handled this well. He told her that if she did ruin things for me that he would make damned good and sure that I found out who was responsible. He then pointed out that I was either a best friend or worst enemy and that she didn't want to wind up on my short list of worst enemies. She's been set up once before and decided that maybe keeping her mouth shut is in her best interests.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
The other night a couple of us caught a little whiff of gas and Nurse Connie called the gas company to report it. They sent a field investigator out at once. He was there in about fifteen minutes which is a damned sight better than police response time in a lot of places. (Not here. Police response time is excellent in this township)
Anyway, he did his thing and tested and it looks like there is a small leak in the main somewhere and they will send a crew out sometime soon to tear the line up and repair/replace it. It's going to be a pretty big suck pill for someone as the main is off the road and it means lawn digging up and things of that nature.
I got to talking with the guy and I told him that just after we moved in they had to replace the line from the street to my house. He glanced at the on-board computer in his truck and told me that it had been noted. My gas line had been sleeved with a piece of plastic tubing.
I remember it well. I came out with a bunch of cold drinks for the guys that were digging the valve up so they could shut the gas to my place off. They had earlier explained to me that I would have to get a plumber or someone to have the pipe from the street to my house replaced.
That's when I looked at the entire crew and asked, "OK, which one of you guys does side jobs?"
They looked at one another and one of the guys mentioned that there was a guy on the crew working a block or two away that had a kid that had a medical condition and that he was always looking for a few extra bucks. The foreman called him up and the two of us made a deal right then and there.
The guy agreed to show up after work and square me away if I picked up the needed components. He gave me a list and about an hour or so later I returned home. I swung by to where the guy was working and he glanced at my purchases and agreed to show up after work.
He was there at the appointed time and we ran the sleeve of plastic tubing from the street to the meter next to the house and in a few minutes the end emerged by the meter where we attached it using the hardware I had just purchased. I was then good to go and the following morning the gas was turned on.
It was a good deal and a win/win situation. The gas guy had made a few extra bucks and I had saved well over a thousand bucks.
I mentioned this to the gas inspector and he gave me a wistful smile and told me that people working for the gas company could not take on side jobs anymore. I asked why.
I was given the usual reason. Some dumbass had ruined it for everyone else.
Some woman found out that her neighbor had gotten a gas company employee to come in after work and take care of his problem. The woman wanted her service taken care of and the gas employee explained to her that he couldn't fix her service with a sleeve because there was a sharp bend in her hard piping and that a sleeve couldn't make the turn. She would have to have her piping dug up and replaced.
She promptly called the gas company and complained and was the first step tooward upsetting the apple cart.
Part two, and the big upset was when someone called the gas company and whined about how much the guy charged him for a couple of hours worth of work.
While I'm sure the off-duty gas company employee charged a fair price for after-hours work, I doubt he was being all that greedy. This is another case where a complainer isn't thinking for even a second. The employee probably saved the complaining customer a fortune and this is yet another case of the old saw "No good deed goes unpunished".
The gas company then sent out a directive prohibiting employees from doing after hours jobs and that ended that.
The first woman, however learned a belated lesson about ruining things for others, though. Before the gas can be turned on the job has to be inspected and you can just bet that the inspector made sure every i was dotted and t was crossed. It cost her a fortune. I don't know what happened to the second clown.
Still, they ruined something for everyone else and that to me is a major crime.
I have posted several times in this blog that the trash guys take very good care of me.
The twit down the street has noticed that and said something to Neighbor Bob about how I seem to get preferrential treatment, which in fact I do. Then again, you have to remember that I take pretty good care of them. One hand washes the other.
Bob handled this well. He told her that if she did ruin things for me that he would make damned good and sure that I found out who was responsible. He then pointed out that I was either a best friend or worst enemy and that she didn't want to wind up on my short list of worst enemies. She's been set up once before and decided that maybe keeping her mouth shut is in her best interests.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
I did something interesting tonight which is why I didn't get to write a full post
I watched a movie on the laptop.
Michael Caine and Robert Duvall were the players.
The movie was "Secondhand Lions"
WHat a great movie!
It is on Utube and in about 11 parts, but it was worth it.
I recommend it.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Michael Caine and Robert Duvall were the players.
The movie was "Secondhand Lions"
WHat a great movie!
It is on Utube and in about 11 parts, but it was worth it.
I recommend it.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Neighbor Bob's wife is going out of her mind.
I just got a call from her accusing me of crapping on her front lawn, which I have emphatically denied. Truth is I didn't.
However, earlier today I spotted a fresh animal mess in Bob's front yard and grabbed a roll of bathroom tissue and stuck a few squares to it and walked off.
She'll figure it our sooner or later.
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I think I am going to make bird houses today.
It sounds like a pretty good project and spring is officially here and the birds are coming back.
I've got about five or six cedar boards that ought to make pretty good bird houses and it looks like the rain may hold off for a bit today so I think I'll fire up the chop saw and nailers and get things rolling a little alter on today.
Later.
I made seven of them.
I know that the birds will move right in. I know this because I used the plans I got from the United States Government.
I wonder if I can make a few bucks by selling them as Section 8 housing.
Then again it may not be a good idea as the rest of the birds that struggled to be responsible and pay mortgages will be pretty upset. I can't blame them.
Maybe I'll just keep ownership of them and use them as rentals.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
However, earlier today I spotted a fresh animal mess in Bob's front yard and grabbed a roll of bathroom tissue and stuck a few squares to it and walked off.
She'll figure it our sooner or later.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I think I am going to make bird houses today.
It sounds like a pretty good project and spring is officially here and the birds are coming back.
I've got about five or six cedar boards that ought to make pretty good bird houses and it looks like the rain may hold off for a bit today so I think I'll fire up the chop saw and nailers and get things rolling a little alter on today.
Later.
I made seven of them.
I know that the birds will move right in. I know this because I used the plans I got from the United States Government.
I wonder if I can make a few bucks by selling them as Section 8 housing.
Then again it may not be a good idea as the rest of the birds that struggled to be responsible and pay mortgages will be pretty upset. I can't blame them.
Maybe I'll just keep ownership of them and use them as rentals.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Monday, March 21, 2011
A day of young people in an old people neighborhood
Neighbor Bob showed up looking for a beer as he could probably use one.
His wife goes in for surgery tomorrow.
Instead of the usual out back we opted for a sit in the garage and watch the passers-by. It was a pretty good show.
First there was a couple walking their dog, an 8 month old shepherd type that they told me was a half police, half border patrol animal. He was a pretty good dog. Sharp as a tack and I guess they are thinking of seriously training him.
It's good to see a young couple doing something interesting like that.
The next thing we saw was a father/son going for a bike ride.
Dear old dad was teaching the boy how to break down the hill into a series of diagonal sweeps. The kid couldn't handle the hill outside my house, but could if he went back and forth, which was fine. In time he will develop the strength which I am losing as time goes on.
Anyway, the kid took a turn a bit too sharp and fell.
Tears.
I looked out and said loudly "Get back on that horse!"
The father looked at me with an irritated look.
The kid sat there and cried a bit and after a while walked the bike a few feet and got right back on.
I clapped my hands loudly. I think the kid heard, I sure hope he did.
It's good being an old guy seeing spirited young people because it gives me hope that maybe there will be a few stout hearted young people to take over when I am gone.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
His wife goes in for surgery tomorrow.
Instead of the usual out back we opted for a sit in the garage and watch the passers-by. It was a pretty good show.
First there was a couple walking their dog, an 8 month old shepherd type that they told me was a half police, half border patrol animal. He was a pretty good dog. Sharp as a tack and I guess they are thinking of seriously training him.
It's good to see a young couple doing something interesting like that.
The next thing we saw was a father/son going for a bike ride.
Dear old dad was teaching the boy how to break down the hill into a series of diagonal sweeps. The kid couldn't handle the hill outside my house, but could if he went back and forth, which was fine. In time he will develop the strength which I am losing as time goes on.
Anyway, the kid took a turn a bit too sharp and fell.
Tears.
I looked out and said loudly "Get back on that horse!"
The father looked at me with an irritated look.
The kid sat there and cried a bit and after a while walked the bike a few feet and got right back on.
I clapped my hands loudly. I think the kid heard, I sure hope he did.
It's good being an old guy seeing spirited young people because it gives me hope that maybe there will be a few stout hearted young people to take over when I am gone.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Last night sucked because I had to sleep alone.
Tonight's dinner sucked. I had a steak and I was loathe to put it on the grill but did so anyway because it was getting old and I didn't want to toss it out as throwing good beef out is a crime here.
Still, eating it brought me no joy because there wasn't a cat to share it with or at least beg for a piece. For me that has alway been part of the fun of eating a piece of steak.
Of course, earlier today we drove past a stray cat and Mrs Pic asked me to stop, which we did. The little guy took off, which is par golf. I have a feeling that I will be taking in service to another cat well before the agreed upon late summer/fall period.
When I say in service to another cat, only another cat person will understand. Cats do not have owners. Cats have a staff of attendants.
I have always maintained that General Officers should be ISSUED both a cat and a dog. The dog, of course, is to lick his hand when things go wrong and give him the encouragement to go on during troubled times.
The cat is to keep him from getting too big for his britches.
Most regrettably,I have said a few mean and petty things about Mrs Pic on this blog over the past two years or so, but I really have to say there is one special thing that amazes me about her. When it comes to the health and well being of a cat there is nobody on the face of the entire planet that is as observant of their health and well being.
Nobody.
That woman kept Tokie (a previous cat) comfortable and in fluids for well over a year and I don't think that during that year she got more than five or six hours of sleep at a time the entire time. She deserves an awful lot of credit for that. There are damned few humans capable of doing what she did and truly appreciate it.
That is all.
Good night.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Still, eating it brought me no joy because there wasn't a cat to share it with or at least beg for a piece. For me that has alway been part of the fun of eating a piece of steak.
Of course, earlier today we drove past a stray cat and Mrs Pic asked me to stop, which we did. The little guy took off, which is par golf. I have a feeling that I will be taking in service to another cat well before the agreed upon late summer/fall period.
When I say in service to another cat, only another cat person will understand. Cats do not have owners. Cats have a staff of attendants.
I have always maintained that General Officers should be ISSUED both a cat and a dog. The dog, of course, is to lick his hand when things go wrong and give him the encouragement to go on during troubled times.
The cat is to keep him from getting too big for his britches.
Most regrettably,I have said a few mean and petty things about Mrs Pic on this blog over the past two years or so, but I really have to say there is one special thing that amazes me about her. When it comes to the health and well being of a cat there is nobody on the face of the entire planet that is as observant of their health and well being.
Nobody.
That woman kept Tokie (a previous cat) comfortable and in fluids for well over a year and I don't think that during that year she got more than five or six hours of sleep at a time the entire time. She deserves an awful lot of credit for that. There are damned few humans capable of doing what she did and truly appreciate it.
That is all.
Good night.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
The past two days have just been a nightmare.
The day before yesterday the decision to put kitty to sleep was made and we knew it was going to be a pretty rough night. It was but we got somewhat of a miracle in that there was no emergency.
Yesterday morning we put the little guy down.
He died in my arms and he died well. I hope it is as easy for me except for the fact that we treeat our animals better than we treat out people so I figure I won't have it so easy.
My other half and I have decided that there will be no more cats in the house at least until very late summer or the fall which sound a lot better than it is because anyone that knows cats knows good and well that there is another one just lurking around the corner somewhere just getting ready to steal the heart of a good natured slob like me. Cats are conniving animals that way.
We'll see what happens next.
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I am watching the Japanese deal with the tsunami and they make me ashamed to be an American in a way.
I see no looting or rioting or panic. They simply wait their turn for things patiently and try and look out for the good of the country as a whole. They seem to share in the suffering.
Unlike the pictures I saw of Katrina in New Orleans a while back where there was widespread looting. I really believe that the National Guard should have been given orders to shoot the bastards right in the head. There is no excuse for that whatsoever.
There is some sort of request to conserve energy there and I'd just bet that the average Japanese family has gone home and unplugged everything that isn't totally necessary for basic survival.
Why, I'd bet that they're even drying their hair with plain old air!
Whoda ever thought!
In this country if they announced that we had to do away with a third of our household energy use or face blackouts I would simply make sure the kerosene lamps were full as there are a lot of idiots that just can't live without their special something, be it hair dryer or electric blanket or something.An announcement like that would only mean that there was going to be a blackout.
Many Americans just do not seem to get it and it is infuriating.
What gets me is that many of these people that would continue energy use in troubled times are the welfare types, many of whom seem to think the world owes them a living.
Anyway, Kudos to the Japanese for giving the word 'civilization' a good name.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Yesterday morning we put the little guy down.
He died in my arms and he died well. I hope it is as easy for me except for the fact that we treeat our animals better than we treat out people so I figure I won't have it so easy.
My other half and I have decided that there will be no more cats in the house at least until very late summer or the fall which sound a lot better than it is because anyone that knows cats knows good and well that there is another one just lurking around the corner somewhere just getting ready to steal the heart of a good natured slob like me. Cats are conniving animals that way.
We'll see what happens next.
=====================================
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I am watching the Japanese deal with the tsunami and they make me ashamed to be an American in a way.
I see no looting or rioting or panic. They simply wait their turn for things patiently and try and look out for the good of the country as a whole. They seem to share in the suffering.
Unlike the pictures I saw of Katrina in New Orleans a while back where there was widespread looting. I really believe that the National Guard should have been given orders to shoot the bastards right in the head. There is no excuse for that whatsoever.
There is some sort of request to conserve energy there and I'd just bet that the average Japanese family has gone home and unplugged everything that isn't totally necessary for basic survival.
Why, I'd bet that they're even drying their hair with plain old air!
Whoda ever thought!
In this country if they announced that we had to do away with a third of our household energy use or face blackouts I would simply make sure the kerosene lamps were full as there are a lot of idiots that just can't live without their special something, be it hair dryer or electric blanket or something.An announcement like that would only mean that there was going to be a blackout.
Many Americans just do not seem to get it and it is infuriating.
What gets me is that many of these people that would continue energy use in troubled times are the welfare types, many of whom seem to think the world owes them a living.
Anyway, Kudos to the Japanese for giving the word 'civilization' a good name.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Saturday, March 19, 2011
It hass been a baad couple of days.
0915 today my kitty was put to sleep.
Yesterday was a touch-and go day.
Last night he slept with me and I knew it was time.
Mrs Pic was wonderful and neither of us have any regrets.
He died in my arms and died well.
I pray it is as good for me as it was for him.
That is all.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Yesterday was a touch-and go day.
Last night he slept with me and I knew it was time.
Mrs Pic was wonderful and neither of us have any regrets.
He died in my arms and died well.
I pray it is as good for me as it was for him.
That is all.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Leaving Las Vegas (to steal a movie title)
To figure this post out, simply read the one below it that I posted yesterday.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
We yanked the throttle out until the engine started screaming and then pushed it back in a quarter of an inch. She was running fairly hard but she wasn't screaming. Realizing we had been thrown out of Las Vegas the engine had a damned good sound to it. We had escaped without a trip to the cross bar hotel or a dunking in cement overshoes and were glad to have it behind us.
We watched the miles click by for a while and then saw a truck stop ahead and pulled in.
We had been living on that hippie crap for the past couple of days and our very souls were screaming for some serious man food. We were craving a huge slab of red meat.
The instant we entered the truck stop we sensed it was a happy oasis in the middle of nowhere. I want to say we were in a town called Alamo but I'm not sure about that at all.
Almost as soon as we were seated we instantly knew why the place seemed so happy. It was the waitress.
She was one of those rare women that men instinctively like and trust. She was rather tall, her hair was in sort of a beehive and her makeup was a molecule shy of being trashy. She also had a quick wit and above all we knew she was comfortable with men. She liked men the way they were and men liked her. Her connection with the guys really isn't of a sexual nature. It's a warm, human connection.
Women like that are a very rare national treasure.
She came to our table and Blaine told her we had been living on hippie for for the past three days. She laughed.
“Sounds like you two need a serious blood rare steak,” she said. “What do you want with it?”
“Just a salad,” said Blaine.
“Twice,” I said. “And burn the outside and leave the inside dripping.”
“I can do that,” she said and left.
She arrived with a pair of humongous steaks and a pretty good sized pair of salad and we chowed down. Fishermen are fast eaters and Blaine and I were no exception. We attacked the beef and salads.
“You two guys slow down,” said the waitress. “The sparks from your knives and forks are going to set this place on fire!”
We finished the meat and salads in short order, paid and left her one hell of a tip and left. Back into the beast.
You have to remember that the beast was a dead simple farm vehicle. There was only a heater, no radio. The suspension was hard, especially because I had resprung the rear end to haul a camper I had for a while. It was a far from comfortable ride. There was no air conditioning and everything on it was worn out. It had a manual transmission, a manual choke, no power brakes and armstrong steering.
The entire vehicle was long past being on it's last legs. It was held together by spit, baling wire, vise grips, good luck and uncommon sense. We ran it on bald tires, there were no seat belts, padded dash or anything along these lines. The entire truck was just plain crude.
It was a heavy piece of nothing more or less than Detroit Iron. By the time I got it it was an ideal vehicle for adventurers simply because a simple trip to a convenience store could turn into a world class adventure at any time.
In short, it was custom made for me at the time.
About a year ago I saw one that looked to have been somewhat refurbished in someone's front yard. I knocked on the door and asked the owner about it. He was delighted to give me a tour and commented that kids today couldn't even get it started much less drive it.
I asked him for the key and he handed it to me and watched. I pulled out the choke and when I stamped on the gas pedal three times he grinned. I turned the key and it almost caught so I pushed the choke in quickly and pulled it out as I cranked the engine and if fired right up. He was impressed.
He let me drive it around the block a couple of times and it was amazing how everything returned to me. It was like riding a bicycle.
He said he had bought it from a field somewhere in the dry part of Texas and had put new rubber on it, wired it together and driven it back to Pennsylvania where he partially refurbished it. He uses it to haul wood.
The miles clicked by as the little Slant Six hummed. Slant sixes like to be run but don't like to be beaten. I had found the ideal throttle setting and it was smooth by the standards of the time and place. This means we were not getting beaten up too bad.
There was a sign telling us Elko was a couple hours out so even though it was daylight, we found a place to park. As we pulled off we saw a pile of about four or five tires. I sarcastically commented that we could use them to burn and keep warm.
“Save it for Earth Day,” replied Blaine. I laughed.
We didn't want to enter Elko until business hours. The plan was find a laundromat and a shower. Most laundromats in Alaska have showers and a number of them in the western states did to service travelers. I figured we could find something there. Even a garden hose would suffice if push came to shove.
We set up camp quickly and lolled around. We could be seen from the road but expected no trouble. The chaos we had created in Las Vegas was really a local beef and they were unaware of the bogus whales collection.
Looking back on it, we had perpetrated the perfect crime. This isn't just because we got away with it. It is because nobody even knew a crime had been committed. It really was that slick in a way.
Because we were still full of steak and salad, dinned consisted of pretzels and a beer or two. It's interesting to note here that although we consumed incredible amounts of beer during the trip we were never really intoxicated to the point where it interfered with anything. My guess is that when a beer got too warm to enjoy we simply tossed it out. We went through a lot more than we actually consumed.
A lone state police car pulled up on the side of the road and the officer approached us. He asked us a few casual questions and we truthfully told him we wanted to enter Elko during business hours to get cleaned up and then we were off to Seattle and the boat. He helpfully told us where the laundromat was and said he thought there was a shower there and left.
We went to bed a little too early and as a result we woke up too early. The two-pound steaks had worked their way through us and we were famished. I looked in the cooler which was by now full of cold water and found a package of ground sausage and a pound of bacon. There was also a very waterlogged package of eggs which on discovery only had a couple of them broken. I removed the eggs one by one and then grabbed the waterlogged package and stuffed it into a the box with the empty 'Save the Whales' cans for later disposal.
In the took box I had a simple Primus stove and a skillet of sorts that had a little surface rust on it. It cleaned up quickly with a handful of sand and some elbow grease.
The Primus needed gas so I fired up the beast and let it warm up a bit. When it was running I simply opened the hood and slipped the rubber fuel line off of the carburetor and pumper gasoline into a dry beer can. I slipped the fuel line back on before the engine stalled. It only took a few seconds.
I lit it off and cooked the bacon and set it aside. I left a half-slice of uncooked bacon for later use. Then I cooked up the sausage. When it was done I poured off the grease and simply broke all of the eggs on top of the sausage and scrambled the entire mess up.
We ate the bacon with our fingers and with spoons fished out of the glove box we shared the sausage and egg mix right out of the skillet. I don't recall what we washed it down with, probably a soda from out of the cooler where there were a couple.
Sand and water from the melted ice of the cooler got the pan clean again and I took the unused piece of bacon and rubbed it in the pan to oil it a bit and keep it from rusting.
We had time to kill so we spruced things up a bit. We had been living rough and things needed a little help. The cab of the pickup got a good going-over and we were ready for our triumphant entry into Elko.
The State cop's directions were accurate and clear so we wound up going straight to the laundromat only to find there had been a fire a couple of days earlier and it was closed. I opined that there might be another one so we cruised around and found one that was totally dilapidated and had no shower.
We wandered through town making note of which places would be good to try for lunch. The breakfast had stuck with us but we were planning ahead. We also found ice and recharged the cooler, draining the water out and cramming it with ice in top of the remaining beer. We were out of food and pulled into a market of sorts and picked up a few things. It was a long haul to Boise and might not want to bother with hunting for a place to eat.
I looked at Blaine and said I had heard there was a whorehouse nearby and that it was probably a good bet that there was not only a shower there but a decent washing machine setup because of all the sheets they went through.
Blaine looked at me and thought. “Why not? All they can do is kick us out and I ain't never been kicked out of a whorehouse before. It'd look good on my resume!”
Nevada has never outlawed prostitution on a statewide basis. They leave it up to the counties. It is the only state in the union with legalized brothels. I went straight to the nearest phone booth but the phone book was missing. I then asked the first guy I met and he gave us directions. We fired up the beast and we were off and running.
This served a number of purposes. First we needed to get things cleaned up, our bodies and our clothes. Secondly we were both pretty curious and wanted to check it out. Besides I heard they served not only sex, but food and drink. We'd eat lunch there if it looked halfway decent.
We arrived. One of the first things we saw was a sign outside that said, “No women.”
We walked in carrying our duffel bags with out sleeping bags over our shoulders. Bad move. The bartender/bouncer saw us and jumped to General Quarters. He came charging up demanding to know what the hell was going on.
It took a little doing but we got him calmed down enough to explain to him we were looking for a shower and some laundry done and the laundromat was closed.
He laughed outright. “And you came HERE to get your laundry done?” he asked.
“Yeah. I figured with all the sheets, towels and stuff you probably go through you'd have an in house washing machine setup of some sort. We're really filthy and desperate to get cleaned up,” I explained. “we'll pay cash if it's reasonable.”
He smirked. “I'll see what I can do.”
A minute later a woman in her mid 30s came up and offered to do our wash for $20 apiece. The price was a little high but not too out of line. We could afford it. She also said we could shower in her room for free and threw in the towels if we dried the floor afterwards.
I told her to wait until after I showered because I had a clean set of clothes with me and I wanted the rags I had on washed. She agreed.
We walked into the bar and sat down. It was getting close to lunch time and we could use a light lunch. It had been hours since the slap-up breakfast.
I showered first and that's when I saw it. I looked down and saw my necklace and then stared at the half-dozen wedding rings. I instantly felt monumentally stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
We had been committed felony level fraud by deception, been forced to live like animals with a group of stoners and worst off all probably destroyed our karma because of my blatant stupidity. My face burned with shame and I hated myself for my stupidity.
To top it off, here I was in a damned whorehouse trying to get my underwear cleaned in case I had an accident and had to go to the hospital.
To top it off, here I was in a damned whorehouse trying to get my underwear cleaned in case I had an accident and had to go to the hospital.
A quick trip to the pawn shop and the sale of just one ring would have netted enough green cash to return straight to Seattle. The sale of two would have permitted us to take the long route through Salt Lake City. I finished my shower, went into the bar and Blaine got up and showered. I stuffed my dirty clothes into the duffel bag and a minute later it was taken into the bowels of the house of ill repute.
I sat at the bar feeling both totally refreshed and quite retarded and sick to my stomach. I ordered a cup of coffee and perused the lunch menu. Although I had eaten bacon for breakfast, the BLTs looked good. I decided to wait until Blaine returned which he did in a few minutes.
When he returned he was in clean clothes that my expert eye determined were hand washed in Lake Mead. I didn't have the guts to tell him about the gold rings.
We both ordered sandwiches and ate slowly. We had time to kill. At intervals the girls casually wandered through in skimpy outfits and chatted with us. They made small talk, gave us their names and wandered off. They didn't pester us. They knew if we wanted them we could ask for them by name.
We noticed what appeared to be a regular lunch crowd came in. Probably locals that ate there because they liked the atmosphere which wasn't too bad.
I quietly told Blaine the girls were not really all that pretty. On the other hand they showed no signs of illegal drug use, either.
“Must be the day shift,” he replied.
I smirked and commented that the good looking ones probably went into porn.
Then serious insult was added to injury.
The woman that was doing our wash walked in. She asked which one of us was Blaine. He raised his hand. She put his missing wallet on the bar next to him. We were both shocked. She then handed me my wallet. I was l floored.
She explained that she had found Blaine's in the dryer after she dried his sleeping bag and mine in my pants pocket in the laundry bag. I had changed pants in the desert and forgotten to remove it like an idiot. There was a hole in the inside liner of Blaine's tattered sleeping bag and the wallet had fallen out of his pocket and worked its way into it.
We both felt stupid. I felt stupider yet. Oh, the irony of it!
We were both so pleasantly surprised we both tipped her $50, no small sum in 1981. She was quite pleased. She also told us she had washed our sleeping bags on gentle cycle because they looked pretty beat up. We were grateful.
I attribute the honesty partially to the fact that although legal, brothels can quickly become a nuisance. They exist on the fringe and as a result any problems that arise are dealt with fast and hard in order to keep up appearances.
I'd bet that they are constantly having the local gendarmes trying to set up sting operations to catch them operating outside of the law. This serves to keep them honest.
I noticed that the girls there looked healthy and showed no signs of drug use. That's probably because any illegal drugs found in the place was probably grounds for instantly being shut down.
When you consider that an awful lot of the townspeople don't like the idea of a brothel in their town they permit it simply because of the money they bring in. I suppose there's a lot of collateral business that they receive. Visitors to any town need things and the merchants gain by any attraction that brings visitors, even a whorehouse.
There are a lot of rules they have to obey, both legal and tacit. The under no circumstances can hire local talent and generally recruit from out of state. All it would take is one local to be caught working in a brothel to create the hue and cry that they are trying to turn our children into prostitutes.
La Mordida (The Bite) also holds true. They have to be an asset to the community and are likely constantly being hit up by the locals for charity events and things of that nature.
I once read that the state license is $100,000 annually. That's a lot of money. The girls are required to undergo health checks for STDs on a very frequent basis. It's not like in the movies. It's a hard scrabble business and the profits are probably not that high after all is said and done.
Prostitutes are often targets for sickies. Street hookers are often getting beaten up. Jack the Ripper targeted prostitutes for example. In a legal brothel I'm sure that a scream from one of the girls would draw an immediate charge into the room followed by a serious beatdown and immediate ejection. They can't afford violence and if someone gets too intoxicated they are ejected unceremoniously. People have to behave in a brothel.
Oddly enough I would not be surprised to find out that a legalized brothel is one of the safest places in Nevada but I might be wrong but I doubt it. On the other hand an illegal brothel is one of the most dangerous places on earth. It's illegal and therefore nobody running it cares. They have no license to lose and no real reason to forbid the use of drugs. There are also no health checks and the girls can be rampant with STDs.
A guy that gets beaten and jack-rolled really has no recourse without admitting he was visiting an illegal operation. When you think about it there are pretty good reasons for legalizing something that's going to happen anyway. At least there is some control over things.
There is also a visitor etiquette. The women that work there are never to be referred to as whores. Acceptable terms are girls, ladies and if you refer to one as a courtesan it will probably gain the visitor points as it implicates a skilled tradeswoman.
Of course when you consider that every preacher spews forth getting rid of the den of sin from his pulpit every Sunday and the religious people join in that means a large part of the local population to begin with wants them gone.
While I was surprised we got our wallets back, I was only surprised to find out where we had lost them. I was not surprised to find they were returned by a professional prostitute working in a legalized brothel. If she was dishonest to begin with, she feared a trap of some sort.
I learned a lot talking to the bartender. He was pretty honest and upright.
Still, it remains that when one thinks about it, legalization at least keeps the collateral damage down and creates a source of revenue for the state and local governments.
We considered leaving and picking up the wash later after a trio to the post office but decided against it. Yvonne could wait until we got to Boise.
Before we picked up our wash we made a couple of phone calls to Boise. We both knew a couple of women there and thought we'd like to pay a visit. Blaine went first and returned and said he was in luck.
I made a call and it looked like I was out of luck. She had plans. Then she said, “Don't hang up!” I didn't and she asked me if I was traveling with Blaine. I said I was.
She told me that Blaine had just called and that I was also welcome because she'd fix me up with Sandy.
I asked who Sandy was and she said she was a neighbor and said she was a lot of fun even though she was a few years older than I was.
I returned and told Blaine we had both called the same woman and he and the bartender laughed.
The wash was done and we took our leave. We had left with goodwill and an invite to return any time we wanted to.
Boise was about 250 miles away, about four and a half or five hours away. The Nevada state line and the end of the unlimited speed limit were about halfway there.
We lit out and cranked the beast up to the sweet spot and headed north at a fast but comfortable clip, with a cold beer between our legs.
It was just past the Nevada state line when the Slant Six started running a bit rough. I told Blaine it was either the number six spark plug or the points. We grabbed a spare and a plug wrench and changed the plug and started up again but it was still rough.
I got out a screwdriver and popped the distributor cap and turned the engine until the points were on top of the crest of the shaft and looked. They looked tight so I adjusted them using a matchbook for a feeler gauge and replace the distributor cap. I lit her up again, pulled out the throttle and knew we were back in business.
We had a hard time finding the place Blaine's date lived but managed. It was in a somewhat tumbledown apartment complex of sorts. When his date answered the door she greeted us warmly and introduced me to Sandy.
Surprise! We already knew each other, or sort of. We had seen each other in Kodiak. What was interesting to note is these two women were part of an informal contingent. They would wander on up to Kodiak and for about four or five months a year work all of the hours God ever created
in one of the canneries. There was always work there and a lot of people, myself included would wander in and out when they needed work. If someone wanted to they could grovel away for months at a time and live in a company provided bunkhouse on the cheap and salt away a pretty good chunk of change.
Both of these women did this, returning to spend the next seven months at home working at whatever jobs they could find.
There were several geographically based contingents. One was from Mankato, Minnesota and I knew several people from there that came up and either fished or worked in the canneries. Some eventually became full time residents.
Blaine and his date were right. Sandy and I did hit it off instantly and I will not say what went on.
Suffice to say we spent the evening, the following day and the following evening together and leave it at that.
The following day we all had various errands to run and Blaine and I got together and took the money to a nearby bank to convert it all to large bills. We threw in fifty bucks apiece to cover the expenses we incurred and had taken out of the pot.
We called a friend in Kodiak and he found Yvonne's PO box number and we wrote it down.
We had expected to spend hours at the bank dealing with counting change but were surprised to find out they had customers that ran vending machine businesses and had a coin sorting machine. If I recall it even rolled the coins up.
We were in and out a lot faster then we thought we would be. From there with thick was of Franklins it was of to the post office and we stuffed the entire wad into an envelope after sandwiching the cash between two pieces of cardboard, addressed it and sent it off.
We had bought our karma back as we knew Yvonne could use it.
Yvonne was a wisp of a woman that was the mother of four kids that had been widowed recently. She lived in a half-completed home that her husband had left her and was now scraping by at whatever she could find to do, including cannery work in the season. She could certainly use the money.
Fact is, the only thing keeping her afloat was that she had practically no debt. The land she lived on was paid for as was the house. Her husband was one of those guys that taking out a mortgage. They lived in shambles, always improving on things as the money came in. He was doing well when the boat went down.
Had he lasted another couple of years the house would have been completed but tragedy has a way of striking at inopportune times.
Still, complete or not, he had left his wife free and clear of any mortgage or other loans to pay off.
I heard a couple of years back that Yvonne managed to raise her four kids before she got sick and died. I don't know what of.
When we left the bank Blaine went straight to K-Mart and bought another sleeping bag. So did I but not as a replacement. I wanted it for my camper trailer. The one I had was serviceable. Blaine's was really shot and he was madder than hell over losing his wallet in it.
Over the next several days I came to realize that the woman who did my laundry was worth every dime I had paid her, not including the reward I gave her for returning my wallet.
Not only was the laundry washed and neatly folded it was folded in such a way I had not seen since I got out of the army. The pants and shirts opened up wrinkle-free. What was more important is that it was organized perfectly in layers. A pair of pants rested atop shorts, socks and a T-shirt which covered a shirt. I could pull out a complete change of clothes without having to dig.
After two nights and a day Blaine and I took off for Seattle which was about 8 hours away. We stopped for breakfast at the sandwich shop that sold the sandwiches we could heat on the exhaust manifold.
Washed down with cold beer they made a damned good lunch when we heated them up. We sat down and ate them in a rest area along the way. We were in no hurry.
While we were eating a thought came into my head. I turned to Blaine. "Did your mom ever tell you to wear clean underwear in case you got into an accident and had to go to the hospital? That way the doctor would see you came from a good family and would work harder to try and save you."
"Of course," replied Blaine. All moms tell their kids that. I think it's in a book, maybe Dr. Spock or something."
"I wonder if she ever thought that in getting clean underwear you would find yourself sitting on a bar stool in a Nevada whore house?
Probably not at the time she told me that but these days she probably wouldn't be surprised. What would your mom think?
"She'd probably ask me if the whores were nice Catholic girls," I answered and he laughed.
While we were eating a thought came into my head. I turned to Blaine. "Did your mom ever tell you to wear clean underwear in case you got into an accident and had to go to the hospital? That way the doctor would see you came from a good family and would work harder to try and save you."
"Of course," replied Blaine. All moms tell their kids that. I think it's in a book, maybe Dr. Spock or something."
"I wonder if she ever thought that in getting clean underwear you would find yourself sitting on a bar stool in a Nevada whore house?
Probably not at the time she told me that but these days she probably wouldn't be surprised. What would your mom think?
"She'd probably ask me if the whores were nice Catholic girls," I answered and he laughed.
I may be wrong but Washington had a 55 mph speed limit at the time and they were enforcing it. We took things slow and stopped off here and there to check things out here and there. The pickup ran fine.
The boat was no longer at Fisherman's Terminal. It was in the yard and we pulled in a little after ten. The gate was locked, of course, but the skipper had put our names on the crew list so after a little fumbling around the night guard let us in. We stumbled aboard and relaxed a while. I went to my locker and pulled out a bottle of Jameson's and Blaine and I had a nightcap and a smoke and hit the bunk.
It had been one hell of a trip.
my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/
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