Monday, March 31, 2014

An open letter to my cousin's son.

Your grandmother was an admirer of mine because I generally took the road less traveled. She also defended me and when I was about your age or maybe a little older she kept a bottle of good scotch handy for my visits. It was Johnny Walker Black Label.

So you are looking at acceptences to various schools now and have your sights set on being a history teacher. Good deal. We need good history teachers.

It's going to be an expensive road to hoe and see you're looking at minimizing debt.

Want a chunk if not all of it taken care of? Look at officer's candidate school. 

Don't say you're not that kind of person. The valedictorian of a local high school recently left a pile of scholarships on the table and opted for the Marine Corps. As an enlisted man.

You want to teach history, according to your mother. That's a good, steady honest career. I can look back on my teachers and think about the ones that were worth sour apples and the teachers that were a pain in the ass.

The thing most of the good ones had in common is that they had done something besides teach. Incidentally (put this in the For What It's Worth department) One of my favorite teachers was a black man that barely finished high school. He was a Staff sergeant and was my drill sergeant. That man could TEACH!

The worst of my teachers had simply graduated from high school, spent 4 years at Bridgewater State Teacher's College and showed up at Marshfield High the year after graduation.

Most of my favorites had brought some form of military or civilian experience along with them and in the classroom it showed. One of my favorites had spent a couple years in (then) Ceylon with the Peace Corps. Neat guy.

Walshes would likely make pretty lousy Marines but the army and navy have a whole slew of programs geared to people like you. ROTC in college and a four year hitch would put you in the fast track lane.

My neighbor is almost 40 now and graduated with a degree in enviornmental science and pulled four or five years in the army. He got plucked out of a bunch of contenders simply because of his experiences.

Companies like former military officers and senior NCOs because they don't have to teach them things. They already know them. 
In a way it's the same for teachers. Schools are dying for people that have more than a lousy piece of sheepskin. They want people to bring experiences into the classroom.

Most of the men that taught me were part of the WW2 generation and most of them had served in WW2. One of them used to tell us that he came from a family that had no money and that the GI bill had enabled him to become a teacher.

The guys with service backgrounds had all sorts of varying experiences, ranging from grunt to weather observer and had traveled, some extensively.

Incidentally one thing virtually all service people over the rank of corporal are is teachers. They teach the people below them in some pretty improvised classrooms. I have to this day a few skills I learned downrange in dirty weather under my belt.

Being a soldier or a sailor isn't all you think it is. Only about 10% of US servicemen handle or used weapons directly. There are a lot of jobs that involve different things that are not weapons related at all. 
For example, most people do not know that the army Corps of Engineers is charged with the upkeep of all of out western rivers.

All of the services also have museums, too.

You are going to have to face the day when you enter the classroom for the first time to teach. You can enter it as a 22 year old kid fresh out of school and be as nervous as a whore in church relying on the theory you learned in school.

Your other choice is to walk into the classroom as a 26 year old man. You'll be able to confidently look up and down the rows of desks and just know which kids are going to be problems. You won't be relying on classroom theory because you will have 4 years of practical knowledge under your belt.

Another thing is debt. I believe the services forgive either all or most student debt upon commissioning. That goes a long way. 

Having a degree and no debt at 22 years old is a pretty good deal in this day and age.

My advice to you is to investigate some of the programs the services have to offer and see what kind of deal you can cut.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Sunday, March 30, 2014

Happy Sunday.

There is a contest going on now on the ham airwaves and I am not really a part of it. The object of the game is to make as many contacts as you can over the weekend.

When you make a contact you give them the number of contacts you have made over this weekend and they give you theirs.

Yesterday I made a contact that I have been needing for my project and the guy gave me a number like 2006. I gave him 003.

"Three? Only three?"he asked, somewhat dumbfounded.

"I am an old man and don't get around so good no more. Three is a mistake. You are number four. I gave you my social security number by mistake."

While I was logging the contact the next guy that he QSO'd was laughing outright. He knew I was just picking a few plums. "I guess that old fella told you," he said.

Some people take things way too seriously.

The weather just won't let up as I woke up to a dusting of snow. 

Just yesterday Neighbor Bob and I were commenting on how the daffodils are starting and this morning, POW! More snow.

Sometimes a person wakes up and feels like General Custer looking out on the field and seeing yet MORE Indians.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Saturday, March 29, 2014

Here's one for you North Carolinians

It is a Saturday morning and I bought a partial bottle of Bushmill's Irish at a garage sale yesterday and managed to really annoy the people that were running it.

They're retired and moving to North Carolina and most likely they are not going to be happy there because they are likely going to take their Pittsburgh ways with them.

I suggested that before they move they take a long hard look at where they are going and what they are likely to do when they get there. I said that jerks that move down from Pennsylvania and New Jersey are ruining a good way of life and turning it into sewers like the ones they left.

There are still a few of those lovely little Mayberry type places left in parts of the south and they're generally pretty good places to live and a lot cheaper than a lot of the places up north.

They won't last long though because people will move into them and turn them into the sewers they left.

They told me they could live cheaper in NC.

"Not for long," I shot back. "They'll hate you inside three months because you'll ruin the place if you're typical Pittsburghers."

Some guy buying a couple of cheap sleeping bags laughed. He looked at me. "They will, too. They'll bring Pittsburgh with them."

The woman looked confused.

''You have to change your attitude before you leave," I said. "You're not so much going TO North Carolina as much as you are LEAVING Pittsburgh. When you leave Pittsburgh, leave it behind you."

I explained that they have low taxes there because they provide fewer services. For example, you take your own trash to the dump. 
Want to hear the classic example?

She did.

You move to Mayberry and they have a number of dirt roads that have been there since George Washington was a kid. You can comfortably drive 25 or 30 on them.

"Back in Pittsburgh, all of our roads were paved."

So you push for a bill and then want street lights which they add. Then you discover that the old dirt road drained but the new one doesn't. You uproot the street lights, install storm drains, reinstall the street lights. The next step is that you notice that now there is a smooth ribbon of pavement that every drives like the hammers of hell on it.

You complain about that and demand they do something. They install speed bumps which brings you back to square one because you had a good road that you couldn't speed on in the first place.

Then the next step is to start griping about how taxes are going up and complain that they are getting to be as bad as they were in Pittsburgh.

The guy with the sleeping bag laughed.

"That's about the size of it," he said. "That's what a lot of people do."

The woman looked upset. "What would you do if you moved there?"

"When they put a pile of grits next to your bacon and eggs just eat them and shut up. Keep you mouth shut and your eyes and ears open. Look around and see how they do things. It's going to be different and different means different. It doesn't mean wrong. Get used to doing things differently. Leave Pittsburgh here."

They won't. They're incapable.

All I want to tell you North Carolinians is that a couple more Guddam yankees are headed your way.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Friday, March 28, 2014

Old school tough guy stuff.

One of the things I like about being an Old School tough guy is that we do what we want and know that we are what we are.

I have a friend of sorts that is a true American Badass. He is a serving SFC US Army that is on his twilight tour. He's going to retire when his deployment is over.

What makes this guy a true American badass is that he graduated from Ranger school when he was over 40 years old.

Now THAT'S an American Badass! It also makes him an Old School tough guy.

He's deployed now.

So what do you send the meanest sergeant in an Airborne unit?


You send him a letter in a pink envelope addressed in lavender ink in the girliest handwriting you can find, with a lipstick kiss on the flap and soaked in cheap perfume.

There is nothing funnier to watch at mail call than seeing the toughest guy in the entire battalion get something like that.

The young guys will start to snicker but will likely freeze up instantly when the good sergeant glances at them.
Good sergeants can freeze water with a single casual glance.

Of course when he opens it and finds that it is nothing but one of my QSL cards and a coupon for half off on a pizza 600 miles from where he's going to live when he retires he'll shake his head and grin.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Looks like Connecticut is raising the minimum wage to $10.10 an hour.

Well, well. More inflation on the way and the people making minimum wage just got POORER.
They will be taxed at a higher rate and the price of goods will climb accordingly.

Of course, the people that have skills will not get a raise and they will be dragged closer to becoming minimum wage earners.

Trickle up poverty in action.

Right now I am telling young people not to save their money. I'm telling them to buy gold, durable goods, guns, ammunition and things that will see them through a lifetime.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

What's going to happen today?

Four inches of snow on the ground which sucks.

By now any of you readers know I hate snow. 

It's also cold out and I have things I wanted to do outside. Instead I am likely going to add another DX entity to the pile.

I wanted to play outside today.

Right now there is a DXpedition on 14.205 but listening on 14.220 to 14.230. It really is an ignorant thing to do but the DXpedition is trying to spread out their pileup.

The bleed over on the 14.230 part is likely bleeding over to 14.332 net that meets there daily. It sounds like someone didn't do their homework.

DXpeditions sometimes get arrogant and think that just because they spent a lot of money to go somewhere exotic that they can upset the day to day operations here and there.

I didn't get out the other day to shoot because something came up and it irks me because of today's weather. I think I'll grub shop today for the boat. 

I generally find a day like this to get the hard groceries that can sit and just before I leave I get the perishables. 

This has the makings of a blah day.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Well, the deer were out and about earlier this morning

and that is always a good thing. 

Someone has managed to put me in touch with a couple of my old high school classmates and it's kind of scary because I'm an awful lot more different that most of them than I thought.

Most of the people I have been in touch with have lived very civilized lives. There's a couple retired teachers, social workers, a dairy farmer running a micro dairy and one guy that is a genetic engineer.

The cat seems to be pretty active today and if he decides to write a little I'm not going to edit him out.

Anyway, I can't think of any of the classmates I've met that have ever lived outside of civilized settings. It's weird.

On the other hand I have lived in places my classmates only get to see on the Discovery Channel. It makes for a case of 2 worlds colliding.

I once sent a summer living alongside a salmon stream which was beautiful and made for pretty good eating and I suppose they would think that's a wonderful thing because of the beauty.

What they fail to understand is that salmon streams draw bears like the moon draws water. This means that everywhere you go during the salmon runs you are armed.

I had no electricity or running water and that meant that every time nature called or you needed to haul water you'd grab either the 12 gauge pump or the .375 H&H. It was as simple as that.

Because of my choice in real estate and neighbors I would occasionally get visitors that wanted to watch the bears fish.

One chick from Idaho dropped by and she seemed to get it. I was making us lunch and she went to get water and grabbed the shotgun. She had grown up on a ranch and knew how to take care of herself.

Another hippie chick from Seattle got upset at the sight of the shotgun and I was kind and offered to put it away after I changed my shoes.

She asked me why I had to change my shoes first and was not pleased with my answer.

I told her that if I was going to put down my shotgun and have no protection that I wanted to make damned good and sure I could outrun her.

It took a few minutes for it to sink in and then she burst into tears and started crying that "You would let me get eaten by a bear while you ran off!"

I told her I was not Prince Charming and had no intention of wrestling an 1800 pound Brownie to save her skinny little stupid ass.

A lot of my life has been lived in far flung remote outposts and I've gotten to see the real world instead of the part that is covered in pavement and concrete. I've gotten to see nature as it truly is.

While most of them are sitting out a storm at home watching Jim Cantore on the Weather channel living on French toast (they make that out of all the bread, eggs and milk they buy up beforehand) I am generally in the middle of the weather.

For Sandy I was home. My preparations were simple. I bought a bottle of Jim Beam.  I'm always ready for bad weather.

Right now I see a lot of my former classmates seeming to be willing to trade their rights off for the perception of safety. I see things a lot differently. I don't want government issued safety. 

I'm smart enough to know it doesn't work. The government can pass all the laws it wants to but bears and criminals are not going to obey them.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Monday, March 24, 2014

Put the blame where it belongs.

The general custom for getting a QSL card from another ham is that the person requesting the QSL is supposed to supply his card, a self addressed envelope and postage.

Stateside is pretty straightforward. You supply your card and an SASE. The ham that receives the request and SASE simply fills out his card, stuffs it in the supplied envelope and drops it in the mail.

For an overseas QSL the requesting ham generally sends an SAE and postage. This can be either an IRC or between 1 and three US dollars, depending on the price of a stamp.

Most countries charge under three bucks US for a stamp that will get a QSL card stateside.

The rule of thumb here is that the person requesting QSL is the burdened person. He is supposed to bear the costs. It's only fair.

Enter Iran. It's over ten bucks US to get a letter to the States. That's mailing it by shipping it on a slow boat to Outer Slobovia. I'm sure air mail is a lot higher. 

When you also remember that most likely the dollar fluctuates over there it's no wonder that the Iranian ham posted on his QRZ page to send $13.

Of course on the ham web pages everyone calls him a thief.  

However, I wonder how many of these keyboard judges and juries out there have ever come across Piccolo T. Piccolo Esquire, defense attorney.

Yup. Piccolo for the defense.

Here at the Piccolo law office, I sent my paralegal to check up on a few things. (This means I switched hats and went to Google)

I came up with the postal rates that brought things into light.

It's damned expensive to send a letter from Iran, and it runs about $10 US. That's today's rate. 

No telling what it is going to be when when the letter arrives if the economy in Iran is touch and go.
Is this guy profiteering?

I suppose to a small extent he is. He may be turning a nickel/dime profit of some sort, but it's not really anywhere as much as he is accused of. Truth is, his postal system is flat out expensive.
So who is to blame?

I would have to blame the Iranian postal system. That's where the Piccolo defense team lays the blame.

Your Honor, I rest my case.

I think a lot of people should turn to Google and find a few things out before they run somebody down with their keyboards.

Incidentally I have put the Iranian ham in touch with a couple of DX managers outside of Iran. They can and will do his QSLing most likely cheaper than he can do it himself.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Sunday, March 23, 2014

We're ALL shareccroppers in one form or another

I suppose the average reader knows what a sharecropper is. 

The practice picked up quite a bit after the Civil War because of the number of recently freed slaves. Of course, sharecroppers were kind of looked down upon because they didn't own the land they worked.

Truth is you had to be successful as a sharecropper. If you didn't turn a profit for the landowner he's find someone else to work the land.

The truth of the matter is that most of us are sharecroppers in one form or another. We're expected to produce and make the company we work for a profit. If we don't we're gone. It is as simple as that.

It's skill based and market based. If the market is full of widget makers the wage for that job is likely pretty low. If widget makers are hard to come by a company will likely pay a pretty penny for a good one.

Still, the widget maker has to turn the company a profit or else he's not going to have a job for very long.

Those of us that work for a company are basically the same thing sharecroppers are. We work for a company and get paid from them.

I suppose a lot of small businessmen out there are thinking that they are truly independent. Fact is they are not. They have a boss, too.

Sometimes it's the bank, but always it is the customer base.

We all have bosses one way or the other and we all work for someone else in some form or another.

In short, we're all sharecroppers.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Saturday, March 22, 2014

It's Sattiddy.

Which means that it is Saturday and nothing more to me.

I'm kind of at a loss this morning to get my daily post started. I guess it's just time to start cranking away and see where this goes.

Oh, yeah. Yesterday.

By now you might have figured that I'm pretty good at the fine art of the look of total innocence. I can carry myself off as a naive country boy when I need to.

Yesterday I was grub shopping and I was in the deli/beer sales/restaurant of the local supermarket. There was some woman there from corporate there asking people for their opinion of the operation. It's fairly new.

The woman from corporate asked me what I thought of the restaurant/deli/beer sales area. Wrong move. I was feeling mischievous.

"You ought to get a couple of strippers here for the lunch crowd," I said. "You'll have every carpenter, road crew, sheet rocker and plumber for miles coming in for lunch."

The woman from corporate looked pretty uncomfortable but a woman that worked at the store and overheard me. She looked at me  with a very amused look on her face and interrupted. She's in her mid to late 40s and a generally happy person that has waited on me several times before.

"Since corporate cut our hours I could use some more work. Maybe as a contract entertainer. Just the excuse I need to lose a few pounds," she said.

The woman from corporate looked really uncomfortable. The deli woman and I left. I headed to the produce section and got my veggies.

When I returned to the deli, everyone in the department was grinning at me and when I ordered a sandwich it was about a foot thick and weighed about 10 pounds.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Friday, March 21, 2014

It won't be long before the cycle starts again.

The snow is off the ground and I do believe it is gone for the season which is a good thing as I do not like snow very much.

Of course because I have just said something we'll get clobbered with about 8 feet of the stuff but maybe not. As I usually do I think I'll plant marigolds and maybe a few petunias. We'll see.

It's clear and calm today which means I may shoot. I have to work up a load. I am sighted in pretty good for 200 yards. 

When I get a good, accurate load worked up I'll crony it to measure the velocity and then run the numbers. If the numbers mean I'll stay supersonic at 1000 yards I'll work up a sheet of come-ups from 200 yards and I ought to be good to go for match season.

I hope there are no Fudds at the range when I am working up my loads because I'll have to explain what I am doing and when I do they still won't get it.

Fudds are deer hunters that shoot about 10 rounds a year. Most of them don't know squat about serious shooting, although some do.

Generally when I am shooting groups I set the sights so the point of impact of the bullet is about 6-8 inches away from the point I hold the sights on because I don't want to tear up my point of hold.

The last time this happened some Fudd saw me inspecting a nice 1.25 inch 200 yard group I shot (one of the best ones I have shot) and commented that it was too bad I had missed the mark. I was about 6 inches to the right.

I explained I was shooting groups and didn't want to tear up my point of hold and he looked confused.

Then I shot another group, 6 inches to the left, and then another 6 inches low. The first group I shot was the tightest so I carefully saved the load data and took the remaining 5 rounds and loaded them up.

I called the Fudd over and said, "Watch me tear up my point of hold." The I did just that. I put all of my rounds into the X-ring.

He was still confused but I guess some guys never get it.

This was a few years back and I remember that he was the guy that got booted out of the club for using the facilities for a political fund raiser. I wasn't there but he threatened all sorts of legal action when he got the boot. He didn't get far.

Anyway my dance card is filling up fast for today and I'll see what happens.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Thursday, March 20, 2014

I never got to post this. It happened a couple of weeks ago.

Yesterday was another day that started off right.
I was feeling pretty good and decided to gas up at the local convenience store. I gassed up and went in for something. I told the clerk she looked pretty good today, she grinned.

Then I noticed a cop standing in a corner sipping a coffee. I have no problem with this at all. Cops deserve a break, too. I nodded at the cop and he grinned back.

Some time ago I had met him and we had chatted. He had mentioned there have been a few problems and said it would be wise to check locks. Typical cop advice but I do listen and take heed.

I suggested he call Charlie Chan to come and solve a few mysteries around town and he asked me who Charlie Chan was. I told him he was a famous Old School detective. 

I also told him tongue in cheek that back in the day J.Edgar Hoover had dispatched 275 G-men to solve a missing jewel mystery and they worked 6 months without a single lead and Charlie had come in and solved the entire case in 90 minutes.

When he looked at me incredulously I told him Charlie HAD to solve the case in 90 minutes because that's how long the movie was.

He looked at me with the look and shook his head. I then suggested that if he liked old movies he ought to see if there was a Charlie Chan movie on YouTube.

A couple of weeks later he saw me and pulled up and told me he had watched a Chan movie and found it somewhat amusing. "Now I'll at least know what you old goats are talking about," he said. We both laughed. 
Then I recommended to him 'The Thief of Baghdad' "The Fairbanks one made in 1924," I said. He actually wrote it down. Then we parted ways.

Anyway he was standing there in the convenience store and I was humming a Stevie Wonder tune when some dufus asked me why I was so cheerful.

"I went to a bachelor party last night and I guess I'm still half coked up and drunk. I'll be OK. There hasn't been a hangover made that I can't shake off before noon." I said. "After all, someone had to teach those twenty somethings how to get the strippers wound up."

He looked aghast. "How old are you?"

" Seventy three," I answered. "Damned stupid kids these days didn't even bother to pick a designated driver so I had to see they got home all right."

"How did you do that?" asked Mr. Nosy.

"I drove them," I said. "Damned kids don't know how to drive when they get tanked up. They start hot rodding and get caught. I had to show 'em a couple of tricks." The cop moved into the darker part of the corner trying to remain unseen but I could tell he was amused.

"You DROVE them?" he asked incredulously. "You could have gotten put in jail!"

"Nah," I replied. All you have to do is keep your speed down and follow the rules and you'll be OK. Besides, the cops in this town couldn't even catch the clap in a Singapore whorehouse." I saw the cop have a hell of a time not snarfing coffee when I said that. He was actually amused.

I could see the clerk was having a hard time not busting up.
Mr.Nosy's breakfast sandwich arrived and he headed straight to the register paid and left. When he hit the door the clerk broke out laughing.

She looked up at the amused cop. "Did you hear all of that" she asked the cop.

"I was trying not to," he laughed.

Then he looked at me. "What do you mean we couldn't catch the clap in a Chinese whorehouse?" he asked, feigning the look of an insulted man.

"Cops in this town have enough sense to stay out of Chinese whorehouses," I replied, innocently. "The few that don't know enough to wear a condom."

"Talked your way out of that one fast," he chuckled. The clerk laughed outright.

He looked at me. "'The Thief of Baghdad' was pretty good, considering it was a silent movie," he said. "The special effects were well ahead of its time."

"Yeah," I replied. "I'm 62 and the movie was made before my father was born. Pretty amazing stuff."
The cop looked at the clerk. She's been there for years. They chuckled.

Anyone that says cops don't have a sense of humor is wrong. While all don't, some do.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

I just read a comment somewhere that truly talented kids are being stifled and I agree.

 I've said it for years.

It always seems like the smarter people are held back from achieving their true potential. Part of it is because we put our money in the wrong department. We spend it on the slower people.

The feds generally hand out about $11 billion every year for the special needs kids. While I can't really slight the mainstream educating of special needs kids, it truly irks me because in a way it is more reenforcement of failure.

The truth is that special needs kids are generally going to need help of some sort their entire lives and certainly cannot be counted on to produce a whole lot.

Granted, I see a couple of kids that have likely been through special ed programs of some sort working at the local supermarket bagging groceries and I'll give credit for that. They're working and that is always a good thing.

The truth is, though that it seem that the truly talented and gifted kids are stuck in the pile with the rest of us and they don't belong there. They belong in accelerated programs.

Talented kids suffer in school, too simply by being held back. They bore, start fooling around and some get misdiagnosed with an attention deficeit disease and most likely get slowed and dumbed down with drugs.

The No Child Left Behind programs seem to slow progress down. They tend to slow things up to let the slower kids catch up at the expense of the more talented kids. The future movers and shakers are held back.

Truth is that no matter what you do, someone still is going to be left behind no matter what you do. Some people were just plainlyy and simply not given the brain power to work with.

Schools should be quicker to recognize talent when they see it and be willing to spend a little more money on these kids instead of holding them back.

What is interesting is that if we put less than half of what we are putting into special education into nurturing the talented, everyone would be a whole lot better off.

But, of course, it is unlikely to see an increase in talented and gifted education because society has a bad habit of reenforcing failure.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Gee! The mayors of two cities boycotted the St. Patty's day parade!

Who cares?

The mayors of Boston and New York have abstained from attending the St. Patrick's Day parade because the organizers didn't include the gay community.

Yeah? So?

First of all, it's the St. Patrick's Day parade, not the Gay Pride parade. The gay community has their day and their parade, although it's likely that most gays don't participate because they have better things to do. Most gays have jobs, careers, things of that nature and really don't care about being in a parade.

Most sensible gays have enough sense not to try and and crash a parade which is actually based on a people that almost to a man are Catholic. It's a recipe for disaister.

Truth is, that about 10 or 15 years ago before the demographics of Southie started to change, the gay community in the St. Patty's Day parade would be looking for serious trouble. The South Boston Irish would have most likely pelted them with anything between rotten vegetables and bricks.

Many gays simply go about their business the same way everyone else does. Kudos to them.

Secondly I didn't hear the gay community ask the St. Patty's day parade organizers if they wanted to march in their parade. I wonder what would happen if a bunch of drunk leprechauns decided to crash the Gay Pride parade?

Likely you'd never hear the end of things. The moaning, wailing and gnashing of teeth would be epic. Frankly, I'd love to see it just to be able to watch the outrage of the gay community.

Actually I would have to say that there are likely a few gays in the parade as it stands. They are likely the part of the gay community that simply goes about their business with a little quiet dignity. I have no problem with this at all.

Personally I gererally don't attend parades. I really don't have a dog in this fight. 

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Monday, March 17, 2014

I believe I have mentioned

 that I am going to become a grand uncle or whatever you call them for the third time.

My nephew and bride married last June and now there is a bun in the oven and it is due this coming June.

Now she is a wonderful young woman and has been joyously welcomed into the family that takes no prisoners. Still, nobody has done anything to seal the deal yet. 

I just had a word with my niece. She has two beautiful daughters and a couple of years ago she celebrated one of their birthdays with a pony ride at a place that has a bunch of ponies they sell rides on. She gave me their phone number.

Right now I'm thinking that maybe I can hire a pony for a day shortly after the baby is delivered. I'll have the owner of the pony place put one in a trailer, drive it to my nephew's house and act like she's delivering it.

"Your Uncle Piccolo was so excited about you having a new member to the family that he decided to buy your new daughter a pony. I've got to get back to work. Can I tie it to the fence?" 

I'm not going to tell you what I think would happen. I think I'll let you, the reader, imagine the results of that one.

I did something similar with a mule once to my wife about 20 years ago. Hilarity ensued and I was hidden in the bushes to watch the scene unfold.

Twenty years makes a lot of difference. If I did that today with a mule, my wife would just have the deliverer put it in the garage for me to deal with.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Sunday, March 16, 2014

The folks you kill are sometimes better and more honorable then the people you defend.

These words were recently spoken by a former soldier.

I do not know if the people he refers to as being the people he defended are the American public or the politicians that sent him out to fight. Truth is, I see his point either way.

As I age I wonder if I would have served had I known that the country was going to degenerate into a population of governmentally dependent whiners.

Perhaps I would have because I personally got a lot out of the army and learned a lot there. I did go to serve, though and what I got out of it was more of a bonus. Today if I were to serve you can bet your ass it would be with a totally different attitude.

While one thing wouldn't change. I wouldn't let my buddies down, I would go not to serve the public, but to serve myself and learn the skills I learned as a junior NCO.

It's sad.

Here's another comment I heard someone make.

If Rosa Parks knew what was coming she'd most likely quietly  moved to the back of the bus. 

 Another sad comment.

I can't speak for Rosa Parks but it wouldn't surprise me one bit. Someone also said Dr. King was spinning in his grave.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Saturday, March 15, 2014

Sometimes I miss.

I take all the information I can glean from various sources and put it together as best I can and draw my own conclusions. I try to make them logical because I learned years ago that emotional decisions are more often wrong than right.

I blew it when I said that it looked like George Zimmerman was not going to go to trial. The very next day they arrested him.

Looking back on that I think I failed to take the emotionally charged arguments and politics into consideration. Of course, he was tried and acquited. Still, I didn't think it would have made it to court if Al and Jesse hadn't cme forth spouting their special brand of hate and discontentment.

The other day I predicted the porn industry was going to move to Las Vegas. I guess outwardly that would be the place for them to go. However, someone pointed out to me that the reason prostitution is illegal in Las Vegas is because the people running the casinos have clout and don't want it in Las Vegas. They are trying to give Las Vegas the image of a nice place to take the family.

A couple people have suggested that it may move to Florida but I'm not going to call that one.

I got a lot of flack over my comments regarding Putin taking over Crimea. I suppose that if you read or in some cases re-read the post you will see that I didn't say Putin was right or wrong. I simply said that he was looking out for the interests of Russia.

If I were in Putin's shoes likely I would have done the same thing. Any responsible head of the Russian state would have done the same thing. I also gave Putin credit for doing it with no serious bloodshed.

Incidentally to those that say the United States has never invaded a sovereign country please remember a place called Iraq.  

Right now there is a flight missing that flew out of Malaysia. Right now there are all sorts of theories out there. Right now information is scanty. There are not enough pieces of information to put together and speculation is running wild.

I've heard all sorts of theories ranging from simply terrorism to mechaniccal failure to suicide to aliens. I'm simply going to be patient until enough information comes out to give me a chance to put things together before I speculate.

While I have mis-called a few over the past few years you do have to remember that I have made well over 1700 pretty much consecutive posts. 

More often than not I think I come out right in my conclusions.

It's been a pretty good ride for me because it at least make me think. Or at least try to. It's also given me a place to rant, rave and vent. I suppose I have a few regular or semi-regular readers but the truth is if I had none I's still face the keyboard every day. Doing that give me a sense of discipline. 

I suppose it is like someone I spoke with that makes their bed every single day. I seldom make my bed. I leave the covers heaped because the cat like it that way.

I was thinking that this project would make me into a better typist but I was wrong. I'm still a lousy typist and my typing is full of mistakes and I type slower than hell. Oh, well. I tried.

This is billed as 'The grumblings of a wayward Old School sailor' and that is what it is. Nothing more, nothing less.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Friday, March 14, 2014

It's Pi Day.

Today is 3-14.

Happy Pi Day, everyone.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Thursday, March 13, 2014

Riddle me this

Riddle me this:

When I go grub shopping for the boat I have a budget and spend every dime of it on grub. The money comes out of a grub allowance and we eat decently on it. 

So how come I see people pushing shopping carts that contain more expensive grub then we can afford paying for it with a government card?

Riddle me this:

So how come I get to replace my pickup every ten years yet pay enough in taxes every year to buy the government a pickup better than the one I drive?

Riddle me this:

So how come I come ashore after a tour and see people that haven't done a damned thing productive since I left that are living at least as well as I am, and in a lot of cases better.

Riddle me this:

So how come we're not motivating people to get up of of their asses and make something of themselves instead of rewarding failure?

Riddle me this:

So if how come every time I turn around and see people on government aid that has a much better cell phone than I can afford for myself. It's supposedly so they can find work yet they've had them for an awful long time and the overwhelming majority still haven't found jobs.

Riddle me this:

So how come so many people in this country spend so much time and effort to take money away from someone that has it and give it to someone that is too lazy or stupid to make their own?

Riddle me this:

So how come those people that are trying to take everyone else's money from them just don't take the time and effort they spend on it to make their own money to give to someone too lazy and stupid to make their own? With the effort you put into taking someone else's you could easily make your own.

Riddle me this:

So how come people in this country are punishing the majority for the crimes of a few.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

I have been rejected for jury duty over the years

 because I am pretty much a fully informed juror. Not only as a juror will I look at the guilt or innocence of the defender, I will also determining if the law applies in the situation.

An example of this is the case where 3 college kids give the 4th one some money to buy pot with. The kid gets caught and cries that he was doing a group buy and some over zealous  DA tries to charge all 4 of them with organized crime.

Those kids are going to walk. That's not what the organized crime statues are there for. The kid is guilty of a petty little misdemeanor, not a serious felony.

There are a lot of other things that I would let someone walk for.

I don't use racial slurs on people and I don't like seeing other people do it, either. Yet I believe it shouldn't be against the law.

On the other hand if some person of, say Italian extraction got called a greasy Wop and took exception and gave the name caller a fat lip then don't come running to the law for justice. You already GOT justice when you were given a fat lip.

I don't have time for stupidity. I look at things through the eyes of a fairly reasonable man.

While I most likely would not give the Italian gentleman a break if he carved the name caller up with a straight razor, I'd overlook a punch in the mouth. 

While I am disappointed that the system doesn't seem to want me for jury duty, I will say that if I were impaneled it had better not be for something stupid.

If you are suing the GPS company because the GPS told you to take a right and you followed it blindly and wound up in the ditch somewhere then you don't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting a dime from the GPS company if I'm a juror. I don't believe supporting stupidity.

Then again I am one of those people that think we ought to remove all of those dopey safety stickers from things and let the problems sort themselves out.

One of the things I see happen is someone picks a fight or does something wrong and gets their ass beat and then runs to the law. If the fight picker had left things alone he wouldn't be bothering me by making me have to listen to his sad tale of woe in the first place. 

The guy that thumped him is not only going to walk but I very well may buy him a beer afterwards. He'd get the beer if he did it with style.

While most police officers have integrity, if I get any inkling that the police are being dishonest the defendant walks immediately. While we can't afford putting criminals back on the street, police dishonesty is generally a far worse thing for society to have to deal with. A dishonest cop is a criminal in uniform.

Surprisingly enough, I tend to believe police officers over a lot of my fellow citizens. However I do check the officer's story because every now and then a halo slips and some less than saintly cop puts $hit stains on the golden letters of the oath.

For what it's worth I trust a working cop a lot more than I trust a DA. Generally if a cop is being dishonest in court he's likely convinced that the defendant is guilty and is trying (in a misguided way) to get someone bad off the streets.

If a DA is being dishonest it generally has nothing whatsoever to do with trying to make the streets safer and EVERYTHING to do with furthering a career in politics. DAs are either elected or are political appointees.

I will be the first one to admit that I look at prosecuting attorneys with a somewhat jaundiced eye because they are politicians. This is the reason I will not sit on a jury where the defendant is on trial for his life. I simply don't trust the system.

This little essay is not to be misconstrued that I am on the side of the criminal element. I'm not. I want to see justice done. If the defendant is guilty and the law applies, I'll find him guilty.

I am a believer in justice, honesty and integrity and will follow my conscience and call a case the way I see it. Judge's orders be damned. 

After all, in a jury trial the judge is only there to be a mediator, explain a few points of law and keep the trial orderly and moving along. He's the number two dog in the courtroom.

As a juror I am a member of the highest authority in the courtroom. I represent the people.

Because I know this I am considered ineligible for jury duty.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Interesting people in history

There are a lot of interesting people throughout history that merit my respect even though they were not on our side.

On the list of people I think I would like to sit down with and have a drink or cup of coffee with are a few military people that were our enemies. Many of these are enemies and former enemies.

One of the things about many of our enemies is that while they are or were enemies there are some of them I truly respect. Any good professional military man has the utmost respect for his enemies. I remember an old sergeant telling a young private that commented that the Viet Cong were a ragtag outfit unworthy of respect.

"Little guy? This tall? Black pajamas and an AK-47? You're damned right I respect him and if you don't respect your enemies you will come home in a box!" snapped the old Platoon Sergeant.

It should be noted that there was a picture of Irwin Rommel in one of our combat vehicles. An Iraqi corps commander, taken prisoner, was seated in the vehicle. He asked why there was a picture of one of our former enemies in the vehicle.

"If you had paid attention to what that man did and how he did it you might not be sitting here," snapped a private.

Erwin Rommel comes to mind as do several others. Oddly I would not want to talk to Rommel about tactics, but logistics. The tactics used by the Desert Fox were pretty simple. The part that interests me are the logistics involved. He had a lot of men and materiel to move and I'd like to know how he did it.

Vladmir Putin is another one I'd like to do something with. Maybe go fishing or something. I respect him for doing his job and looking out for the interests of his country even though what he did seems to be unpopular with the rest of the world. I'd love to know how he thinks. He seems pretty shrewd to me.

Tadamichi Kuribayashi is pretty high up on the list. For those that don't recognize the name, he was the commanding officer of the Japanese forces on Iwo Jima. He seems to interest me for a number of reasons. He actually liked, or at least respected Americans. It is reported that several times he told his family that America was the last country that Japan should fight.

Kuribayashi did one hell of a job defending Iwo Jima. It is the only time in the history of the Marine Corps that they took more casualties than they received. You sure don't have to like that one bit but you certainly have to respect it.

I'll admit Kuribayashi is one guy that interests me. He was given a very distasteful job to do and did it in a first class manner. He went to Iwo Jima knowing he would not be coming home. 

The beverage of choice to share with Kuribayashi would be a large pitcher of clear, cool, water. He had little but rainwater on Iwo Jima as there were no springs there.

He was damned clever. He allowed the Marines to get ashore on the sandy, impassable beach unopposed and after they were mired and bunched up he shelled the beach. Holland Smith, the American commanding officer comented, "I don't know who he is, but the Japanese General running this show is one smart bastard."

Isoroku Yamamoto is another one I'd love to share a cup of tea with. I would like to know how he thought. He was another Japanese officer that had spent time in the States and didn't like the idea of Japan going to war with us. Still, when ordered to, he planned the attack on Pearl Harbor. It knocked this country for a loop, that's for certain. It was one very crippling blow to our Navy.

Yamamoto knew that he had to deal a knockout blow at Pearl Harbor and hoped against hope that the Japanese could negotiate a peace. He is another Japanese officer that felt going to war with the United States was not a good idea.

Both of these Japanese officers knew that their chances of victory were slim to none yet they did their duty. Of course, they were the enemy and I don't like what they did but I respect them as military officers.

I'd like to find out how Yamamoto managed to get his entire fleet so close to Pearl Harbor undetected.

Robert E. Lee is another one I would like to have a cup of boiled camp coffee with but for different reasons. He was a thoughtful man and I'd love to have been able to listen to him. Lee was a true southern gentleman. I suppose my Massachusetts relatives wonder about that one.

On the other end of the stick I'd like to have a drink with Ulysses Grant, the man that took Lee's surrender. I can't explain why. Beverage of choice here is Jim Beam.

There are a few president's I'd like to have met. One is Lincoln. I would have liked to have watched him inspecting the ranks of the troops and watched his interactions with them. He is reported to have been a kind man as well as a political animal with a keen wit.

Teddy Roosevelt is one guy I'd like to go rabbit hunting with for some reason. If not hunting, then something that would take us outside. He'd be interesting to listen to.

Harry Truman would be fun to play poker with and have a couple bourbons with. I don't even play poker. I've read a few books about Harry and he was a man of character unlike many of our recent occupants of the Oval Office. Truman was pretty fiesty and also understood the duality of the presidency and from time to time he'd park the presidency and become Harry Truman the man.

Paul Hume, a music critic, gave his daughter a somewhat mean spitited review. Truman sent him a letter and even though he had franking privlige he put a three-cent stamp on it he paid for himself. He never abused his position.

                        THE WHITE HOUSE
          Mr Hume:

          I've just read your lousy review of Margaret's concert. I've come to the conclusion that you are an "eight ulcer man on four ulcer pay."

          It seems to me that you are a frustrated old man who wishes he could have been successful. When you write such poppy-cock as was in the back section of the paper you work for it shows conclusively that you're off the beam and at least four of your ulcers are at work.

          Some day I hope to meet you. When that happens you'll need a new nose, a lot of beefsteak for black eyes, and perhaps a supporter below!

          Pegler, a gutter snipe, is a gentleman alongside you. I hope you'll accept that statement as a worse insult than a reflection on your ancestry.


Ya gotta wanna have a drink with a guy like that. You can't slight him for defending his daughter, either.

Oddly enough, it I had my choice of what to do with Ronald Reagan when he was president I would like to sit down with him in a living room and watch a couple Three Stooges shorts. Reagan had a twinkle in his eye and a sense of humor. Betcha if nobody was looking he'd do a pretty good Curly imitation.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Monday, March 10, 2014

Men have no business going to baby showers

I have noticed that these days men are being invited to baby showers. I do not know why that is because baby showers have always been a woman thing.

Men have no business at a baby shower and it is as simple as that. Baby showers are generally full of giggling, ooohing and ahhing.

I have read where a guy was coerced to attend such a soiree and he isn't likely to be invited to another one. He brought the obligatory gift for the baby.

It was a Daisy Red Ryder BB gun. Incidentally if the baby is going to be a girl they make the Red Ryder in pink these days.

Smart man. I think I am going to put that trick in my bag.

Shortly after I started this piece based on an internet thread about man going to baby showers I found out that one guy has already taken this tack. He upped the ante from a Red Ryder.

He bought the baby to be a Chipmunk .22 rifle. Smart man!!

Some of you readers may think that a Chipmunk .22 is an expensive baby shower gift but I think you are wrong if you understand the concept of looking down the road. Over time this will likely be the cheapest gift you can buy in the long run.

After the womenfolk's heads explode and they settle down a bit they will start running their mouths the instant they leave. They will gossip about this for years and years.

The liklihood of being invited to another baby shower for the rest of your life is pretty slim.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Several years ago this came up when I went to a CMP match.

 It was at a local private sportsman's club and I heard about the match from one of the members.

It was their first match under the CMP rules.

I was pleasantly greeted by the other shooters and someone quickly briefed me as to what the club had to offer. They said that until noon breakfast was three bucks over at the club kitchen and told me where the toilet facilities were as well as where I could get a cold drink if I wanted one.

That was pretty nice of them to offer me the services of the kitchen that fed me a damned fine breakfast for three bucks. Then again, shooters are pretty good guys.

They didn't have to allow me the use of the kitchen if they didn't want to. After all, it was a private club. The only things they were required to provide me with were the use of the range while I was involved in the CMP match and a bathroom.

Seeing I was shooting a Garand that day and the ammo for the match was inexpensive I bought 52 rounds for five bucks and shot the match. It was cheaper than I could handload them for.

It was a nice club, and like my usual club it was well tended. They had a pretty good bunch of guys there and I shot the match with no problems.

After the match the club returned to being a private club and required membership to enter the premises.

I discussed that with our CMP committee at the next club meeting and it was explained to me that when our club  enrolled in the CMP program that there were requirements that the matches were open to the public and there were a few basic things we had to make open to shooters that entered the match.

I mention this because shortly after the Oklahoma City bombing the press in our area was doing what a lot of other television stations were doing at the time. They were taking footage of CMP matches and showing it on the air and passing it off to an unsuspecting public as paramilitary training.

It was a dirty trick and a couple of years later I got even with this particular reporter by passing off my cat on a leash as a guide animal and giving her a feature story but that's another story in itself.

Still, she and her cameraman drove up and demanded the right to take pictures of the match and the Range Officer asked her to leave. She waved a CMP pamphlet and said that the matches were open to the public.

I was next to the RO and shot back that the pamphlet read the matches were open to SHOOTERS of the general public and asked her where her rifle was.

She got pushy and started demanding her rights and so on and as she was another member pulled out what was then a new fangled cellular telephone and called the police.

A couple of minutes a cruiser showed up and an annoyed cop got out. In less than a minute the van was last seen driving off of club property, followed by the police car.

At the next meeting I heard that she got a ticket for running the stop sign at the end of the road on the way out.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Like it, lump it, love it or leave it, Putin is a pretty class act.

Right now a lot of people are pretty upset with what the Russians have done in Ukraine and it is just another case of Americans being upset with someone doing just what they would in a similar circumstance.

If the Cuban government was in the middle of a major upheaval and it lookied like Cuban forces were going to sieze the base at Guantanamo Bay you can bet that the United States would send forces into Cuba to defend it.

While Gitmo is in Cuban territory, we do have a bona fide lease on it and it is an important asset. We're simply not going to let go of it.

Pretty much the same thing is going on in Crimea. Crimea has in it several Russian military assets that have been there for quite some time. In fact, Crimeans do not seem to have any objection to find themselves being taken by the Russians as most likely the don't want to be a part of the instability in Ukraine.

The biggest asset in Crimea is Sevastapol which is one of the very few warm water ports that the Russians have the use of according to the deal made when the Ukrainians broke free of the former Soviet Union.

Sevastapol is too much of an important asset for the Russians to just casually let go. Russia doesn't have too many warm water ports as it is.

With the present Ukrainian instability Putin just decided to make sure he has secured Sevastapol. I don't blame him. If i were him, most likely I may have done the same thing. 

The thing that I admire about the way the entire thing has gone is that it has been pretty damned bloodless. There has been no fighting to speak of and the area is secure.

He came in, secured Crimea and with it the Port of Sevastapol without killing anyone. He didn't get involved in the internal infighting in Ukraine. He simply secured his legitimate military bases and the necessary port.

What is even more interesting is that it looks like we've funded the invasion for him because we just sent the Ukraine a BILLION dollars which more than likely will go straight to Russia.

The truth is that Putin has done this with so much finesse that it is nothing less than huiliating to the Obama administration. Putin has simply secured legitimate assets for Russia in such a way that it looks like he is simply showing President Obama how it is done.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Friday, March 7, 2014

My guess is that if it isn't already that Las Vegas is going to be the new hub of the porn industry.

While I am not too big on porn, I have to admit that it is a pretty big industry. It generates revenues in the billions.

Until recently the hub of the industry seemed to be southern California. Recently the California government has passed a few laws regulating it. I suppose a movie made there after the enactment of these laws could be called "OSHA Smut".

Shortly after the laws were enacted a number of porn outfits moved, some to Las Vegas. Nevada has no state laws prohibiting prostitution. They leave it to the counties to choose.

For example, prostitution is prohibited in Las Vegas, but an hour's drive and you are in a county with a legal brothel in it.

Still, because of the attitude in Nevada it seems a slam dunk natural that the porn industry will make a home there. 

The other reason and this is a big reason, is that Nevada has low taxes. For example there is no state income tax there.

The porn companies cam keep producing porn the way the audiences like it and keep more of their profits.

What is interesting is that I have read about murmurings of the legitimate film industries talking about moving out of southern California. Seems the taxes have gotten a little high down there.

Recently a number of celebrities have complained to Sacramento that taxes are too high. Likely many of them will vote a tax cut with their feet and leave the Holywood area.

Can't say as I blame them but you do have to tell them to look at themselves. Many of these Hollywood types are dyed in the wool liberals that support many of the liberal giveaway policies and that's what has gotten taxes to skyrocket in the first place.

Nothing is free and when the government gives something away they have to get the money somewhere and that means taxes. The money the government gives away has to come from somewhere.

The Hollywood types that are griping about high taxes have only themselves to blame. They supported all of the expensive government programs and they have only themselves to blame for using their celebrity status to support their causes.

California is deeply in debt and doing a pretty good job of running their financial base out of the state with over regulation and taxation. It won't be long before southern California starts to look like Detroit.

Of course this isn't the first time the film industry hasn't left someplace for another place to escape problems. Back in the early days of movies the film industry moved from northern New Jersey looking for sunnier climes, cheaper real estate and lower taxes.

The lit on the shores of sunny southern California and proceeded to latch onto it like a tick and turn it over time into an up and coming snake pit. Much like a parasite as soon as it has killed donor off, it leaves looking for another.

I suppose Hollywood industries as they leave southern California will go looking for a place with good weather and low taxes and start sucking that place dry and slowly destroying it.

On the other hand, I'd dare say that the porn industry isn't likely to do a lot of harm to Las Vegas because the people involved are more low key. They don't produce people with the celebrity status that the mainstream movie industry does and they tend to fly under the radar as far as politics go.

Truth is, I'd rather see the porn industry come to my town before the mainstream film industry did. It would be less damaging in the long term. 

We'll see over time but one things is a pretty good bet. California is going down into the hurt locker in the not too distant future.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Thursday, March 6, 2014

American badass.

Right now I am seeing a man I met on the web off on his final deployment to Afghanistan. The man is somewhat of an American badass.

Most people that pursue an infantry career don't last the full career because it is terribly hard on the body. Running around with 100+ pounds on one's back is something the human body just wasn't designed to do.

Furthermore this man began his career a little later in life than the average kid that went in at 18 straight out of high school. 

In fact, this guy graduated from Ranger school well past his 40th birthday. That's pretty hard core. That school is rough on people half the age he was when he graduated but he managed to tough it out.

If I am not mistaken, he was going through Ranger school about the time his son was in basic training!

That's pretty badas if you ask me.

I wish him well and hope he comes home to a well deserved retirement.


One of the things I have noticed recently is that there are a lot of men starting to look at shaving with the old fashioned double edged razors like their fathers and grandfathers used.

Someone asked me why.

I told them it has because of the razor blade shortage created by the Navy not scrapping enough ships to keep up with the demand for razor blades.

I guess the Navy has started scrapping ships again because double edged razor blades are now on the market.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY