Monday, November 30, 2015

This is what I peeled off of a website I frequent.

This is making the email rounds. It was attributed to Bill Bennett’s “Morning in America”, but that is questionable and irrelevant. 

They will kill him before they let him be president. It could be a Republican or a Democrat that instigates the shutting up of Trump. Don't be surprised if Trump has an accident. Some people are getting very nervous: Barack Obama, Valerie Jarrett, Eric Holder, Hillary Clinton and Jon Corzine, to name just a few. It's about the unholy dynamics between big government, big business, and big media. They all benefit by the billions of dollars from this partnership, and it’s in all of their interests to protect one another. It’s one for all and all for one. It’s a heck of a filthy relationship that makes everyone filthy rich — everyone except the American people. We get ripped off. We’re the patsies. But for once, the powerful socialist cabal and the corrupt crony capitalists are scared. The over-the-top reaction to Trump by politicians of both parties, the media, and the biggest corporations of America has been so swift and insanely angry that it suggests they are all threatened and frightened like never before. 

Donald Trump can self-fund. No matter how much they say to the contrary, the media, business, and political elite understand that Trump is no joke. He could actually win and upset their nice cozy apple cart. It’s no coincidence that everyone has gotten together to destroy The Donald. It’s because most of the other politicians are part of the “old boys club.” They talk big, but they won’t change a thing. They are all beholden to big-money donors. They are all owned by lobbyists, unions, lawyers, gigantic environmental organizations, and multinational corporations . . . like Big Pharma or Big Oil. Or they are owned lock, stock and barrel by foreigners, like George Soros owns Obama or foreign governments own Hillary with their Clinton Foundation donations. 

These run-of-the-mill establishment politicians are all puppets owned by big money. But there’s one man who isn’t beholden to anyone. There’s one man who doesn’t need foreigners, or foreign governments, or George Soros, or the United Auto Workers, or the teachers’ union, or the Service Employees International Union, or the Bar Association to fund his campaign. Billionaire tycoon and maverick Donald Trump doesn’t need anyone’s help. That means he doesn’t care what the media says. He doesn’t care what the corporate elites think. That makes him very dangerous to the entrenched interests. That makes Trump a huge threat to those people. Trump can ruin everything for the bribed politicians and their spoiled slave masters. 

Don’t you ever wonder why the GOP has never tried to impeach Obama? Don’t you wonder why John Boehner and Mitch McConnell talk a big game, but never actually try to stop Obama? Don’t you wonder why Congress holds the purse strings, yet has never tried to defund Obamacare or Obama’s clearly illegal executive action on amnesty for illegal aliens? Bizarre, right? It defies logic, right? First, I’d guess many key Republicans are being bribed. Secondly, I believe many key Republicans are being blackmailed. Whether they are having affairs, or secretly gay, or stealing taxpayer money, the National Security Agency knows everything. 

Ask former House Speaker Dennis Hastert about that. The government even knew he was withdrawing large sums of his own money from his own bank account. The NSA, the SEC, the IRS, and all the other three-letter government agencies are watching every Republican political leader. They surveil everything. Thirdly, many Republicans are petrified of being called “racists” . . . so they are scared to ever criticize Obama or call out his crimes, let alone demand his impeachment. Fourth , why rock the boat? After defeat or retirement, if you’re a “good boy,” you’ve got a $5 million-per-year lobbying job waiting. The big-money interests have the system gamed. Win or lose, they win. 

But Trump doesn’t play by any of these rules. Trump breaks up this nice, cozy relationship between big government, big media, and big business. All the rules are out the window if Trump wins the Presidency. The other politicians will protect Obama and his aides — but not Trump. Remember: Trump is the guy who publicly questioned Obama’s birth certificate. He questioned Obama’s college records and how a mediocre student got into an Ivy League university. Now, he’s doing something no Republican has the chutzpah to do. He’s questioning our relationship with Mexico; he’s questioning why the border is wide open; he’s questioning why no wall has been built across the border; he’s questioning if allowing millions of illegal aliens into America is in our best interests; he’s questioning why so many illegal aliens commit violent crimes, yet are not deported; and he’s questioning why our trade deals with Mexico, Russia and China are so bad. 

Trump has the audacity to ask out loud why American workers always get the short end of the stick. Good question! I’m certain Trump will question what happened to the almost billion dollars given in a rigged no-bid contract to college friends of Michelle Obama at foreign companies to build the defective Obamacare website. By the way, that tab is now up to $5 billion. Trump will ask if Obamacare’s architects can be charged with fraud for selling it by lying. Trump will investigate Obama’s widespread IRS conspiracy, not to mention Obama’s college records. Trump will prosecute Clinton and Obama for fraud committed to cover up Benghazi before the election. How about the fraud committed by employees of the Labor Department when they made up dramatic job numbers in the last jobs report before the 2012 election? 

Obama, the multinational corporations, and the media need to stop Trump. They recognize this could get out of control . If left unchecked, telling the raw truth and asking questions everyone else is afraid to ask, Trump could wake a sleeping giant. Trump’s election would be a nightmare. Obama has committed many crimes. No one else but Trump would dare to prosecute. He will not hesitate. Once Trump gets in and gets a look at “the cooked books” and Obama’s records, the game is over. The gig is up. The goose is cooked. Holder could wind up in prison. Jarrett could wind up in prison. Obama bundler Corzine could wind up in prison for losing $1.5 billion of customer money. Clinton could wind up in jail for deleting 32,000 emails, or for accepting bribes from foreign governments while Secretary of State, or for “misplacing” $6 billion as the head of the State Department, or for lying about Benghazi . The entire upper level management of the IRS could wind up in prison. 

Obamacare will be defunded and dismantled. And Obama himself could wind up ruined, his legacy in tatters. Trump will investigate. Trump will prosecute. Trump will go after everyone involved. That’s why the dogs of hell have been unleashed on Donald Trump. Yes, it’s become open season on Donald Trump. The left and the right are determined to attack his policies, harm his businesses, and, if possible, even keep him out of the coming debates. But they can’t silence him. And they sure can’t intimidate him. The more they try, the more the public will realize that he’s the one telling the truth.

Several people that have read this have commented that it does not sound like Bill Bennett. Maybe it wasn't. Still, it is an interesting read.

One thing is for certain, though. GOP leadership and Democratic leadership sure hate him. As far as I am concerned, that says a LOT for Donald Trump.

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, November 28, 2015

I just made an offer on eBay.

It was on a 'buy it now or best offer' sale.

I simply figured out what something was worth to me after all was said and done. I tok the price I was willing to pay for it, deducted the shipping price and made that as an offer.

Of course I received a counter-offer and I think I'll ignore it. 

The game is often played like some south of the border market with a lot of haggling. I don't want to play that game so my offer isn't going to change. If I wanted to play that game I would not have made my best offer up front. I would have bid a lot lower.

A big part of not getting caught up in auction fever is to simply figure what something is worth to you and use that as a top price one is willing to pay. Then you stick with it.

Some time ago there was a rifle sling that was running about six or eight bucks in a shooting publication. Someone was selling a identical one on eBay and a bidding war erupted between two fools. the final price was insane, well over $100. 

For some reason something over $400 sticks in my mind but I may be wrong. I do remember it was an insane price.

Anyway, I have just told the counter offer person that I wasn't interested in paying any more than my original bid on the item. 

I doubt he will sell for what I have offered but that's OK. I have told him what the item is worth to me and that's just the way it is.

Someone else will come along and I'll eventually get what I want. It's called patience.

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

Why skeets are not on the endangered species list.

According to an avid skeet shooter, the guys that shoot skeet miss enough of them so that the ones that they miss escape into the wild to breed.

He says they are pretty prolific breeders.

I guess this means that the PETA types can remove their 'Save the Skeets' bumper stickers.

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Friday, November 27, 2015

I am getting some pretty

 interesting reports on some real jerks that should have been forced to stay home locked in a closet yesterday.

One of them listened to President Obama. He started a political dissertation on gun control at the dinner table of a couple of Second Amendment supporters. He had been warned that politics were off limits but couldn't keep his mouth shut.

These people decided that the most intelligent thing to do was simply throw old Uncle Ned out on his ass. He reports that things were actually pretty good after he was gone. What I consider funny is that the wife handed Dear Old Uncle Ned a gift certificate for MacDonald's on the way out.

Someone else reported that his son showed up coked up and proceeded to drink heavily. He got the boot which is a pretty hard thing to do when it is your own child. It's sad but I guess it had to be done.

Another report I got was someone's mother showed up and started to criticize her son and expressing her disapproval of his wife. He didn't throw her out. He simply made it clear that she wasn't ever going to see her grandchildren unless she shut up. They also made her eat at the kiddie table. Smart move.

It wasn't all bad news, though. Someone's serviceman son got leave and managed to spend the holiday with the family. I guess he astonished his mother by doing the dishes.

Meanwhile somewhere in middle America a family is damned grateful to be reunited with a wayward daughter they had not seen in quite a while. She took off a couple days after high school graduation three or four years back and is working days and attending school nights to be some kind of a beautician. I guess her first year or two out of the house was pretty rough, though. They are both relieved to see her healthy and doing well.  

I heard one guy threw a brick through his TV when he watched some kind of special about the harm done to the human body during the typical Thanksgiving dinner. I suppose he needed a new TV to begin with and likely scored one at a Black Friday sale. 

I imagine that if I had seen that CBS blurb I would have thrown a brick at the TV. There's always some imbecile with a medical degree that will come along and attempt to ruin everything. 

It's like the poor guy I know that has about three or four drinks a year. He never gets to enjoy any of them because his wife gets all upset and ruins it for him. He's part of the reason I keep a jug in my garage. About once or twice a year he drops by for one.

I also keep a pack of Camel straight cigarettes in the freezer for another guy I know that smokes about one every six months. He went from 2 packs a day to about two cigarettes annually. His family tries to ruin that for him so he visits me.

To the doctor that tried to save us red blooded turkey eatin' Americans from ourselves, go choke on your tofu and granola. I'll salute you with a nice cognac spiked eggnog next chance I get. Maybe even a cigar.

Come Christmas when the good doctor  starts in on ruining that holiday feast for us I'll let her use my mistletoe...The piece I keep clipped to my shirt tail.

To those that had to persevere I share your frustration. Thanksgiving is enjoyable. It is Christmas that is rough on me. I generally have to persevere over Christmas.

To those that simply threw someone out, here's to your courage and hopefully you salvaged your holiday. In a couple of months it will be funny. You'll laugh at the time you threw Uncle Ned out on his ass.

To those that had the joy of being reunited with a loved one, I share your joy.

Oh, yeah. In Pittsburgh someone told me the Heinz history museum is open 361 days a year. They are closed New Year' Day, Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Hope the employees had a good holiday off.

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, November 26, 2015

Today is Thanksgiving and Mr. Obama is NOT welcome into my home today.

Today is Thanksgiving and it is strictly a family day.

It is one of the few days that religion, politics and things of that nature are put aside and we enjoy ourselves as a family.

The president has asked families to discuss gun control over dinner today and I find it to be highly objectionable that he is trying to enter my home to push his agenda on this family holiday.

It doesn't matter what political issue he wants us to discuss today, politics are off limits. It is a source for too many family arguments.

Quite frankly, Mr. President I am disgusted that you would even want to to barge into our home and disrupt our family feast just so you can make a feeble attempt to further your political agenda.

Fact is that I consider your suggestion just one more piece of government intrusion into our lives.

Now please shut up and eat your turkey.

Let us eat ours in peace.

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, November 25, 2015

I figure someone just got out of the joint

 because I just got a wrong number for the first time in a couple of years. 

Actually I got a wrong number the other day but it was simply someone's grandmother with arthritic fingers that hit a wrong button. The poor old woman apologized and I was kind and easy going about it. No sense being rude to an old woman.

Today's wrong number likely came from someone that just got out of the joint after serving some hard time.

I answered it with a simple 'Hello' and got a surprise.

"Yo! Darrell! You got that fi hunn rit I paid you befoe I got jacked up?" demanded a voice.

"No," I snapped and hung up.

Two minutes later it rang again. "Darrell, I mean it. I ain't f***in' wit choo. I want my f***in' money, Man!"

I hung up again. It rang again.

"I mean it, Man! You get me my motherf***in' money or I'll kick your f***in' ass!"

I hung up again. He didn't call again.

I'd love to see how Darrell is going to squirm when the guy meets up with him.

Several years ago when I got my present cell number I started getting all sorts of calls from people looking for hookers and drugs. I attributed it to the recycling system of telephone numbers. I simply figured that the number I had been assigned was some drug dealer's former burn phone. Or for that matter, maybe his regular phone.

For months I was constantly getting calls from people looking for drugs, whores or money. After the first week of being annoyed, I simply decided to run with it and became a drug dealing least over the phone.

Most people didn't recognize the voice and simply said, "You ain't Darrell!" and never called again. That was a good deal as far as I was concerned.

On the other hand, a small handful of people thought I WAS Darrell and I arranged drug deals and promised to send Fonsica or whoever the hell the whore was to wherever the caller wanted. Of course, the caller wound up on a wild goose chase.

I didn't do this out of particular meanness. I simply did it because I couldn't take all of that crap seriously.

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, November 24, 2015

I'm just going to out and out say it

I don't think that letting the Syrian refugees in this country is a very good idea.

If you are willing to look at what has happened to Europe after letting these people in you will understand that those people do not know how to live in a free society.

We already have problems with these people in Detroit and there is already a sharia court permitted in Texas.

Personally I see no reason that am American woman would support a religion that permits her husband to beat her or throw acid into her face. There is no room in this country for anyone that believes in honor killing either.

It is not OK to hack up your daughter for smiling at the boy down the street.

It is as plain and simple as that.

People like that do not contribute to a free society. They destroy it.

I have been a supporter of people coming into this country that want to enjoy liberty all of my life. I have stood up for blacks, Asians, Indians and just about anyone else that has come here because they leave their ugly baggage behind them come here and contribute and respect the rights of others.

Please send the Syrian refugees somewhere else. Especially the males between the ages of 17 and 55.

This is the first time I have not supported a group of any kind from entering this country and it is a damned shame I have to be this way.

However, when I see what middle east refugees have done to France, Germany, the UK and other parts of Europe I see no other choice.

Maybe Rudyard Kipling was right when he said, "East is east, west is west and never the twain shall meet."

It's sad I have to feel this way but that's the way it is.


Oh, yeah.

Swaziland and Tinian are now in the log and my requests for QSL cards are in the mail.

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, November 23, 2015


The weather has not frozen the ground yet and I am being plagued by moles.

While I don't mind them as animals I do not like what they do to the front yard. They can do just about abuthing they want out back. I'm pretty easygoing.

Harbor Freight used to sell little windmills that spin in the wind and have some kind of offset in them that creates a vibration that drives moles away.

When I went there to snag a replacement they said they had to pull them off the shelves.

My guess is that some moron tried to urinate on one in a hurricane and got upset about it. Either that, a more likely scenario is that someone was foolish enough to let a toddler play with it in a windstorm and the spinning blades injured the little one. Enter Dewey, Cheetham and Howe.

The old one was great. It kept the moles out of the lawn and as usual when something works they take it off the market.

Especially when it costs nothing to run and solves the problem.

I did get lucky, though.

They still sell them on eBay so I ordered two of them.

I hope they get here soon.

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, November 22, 2015

Nobody cares how much you spent for it

I am not going to get into the details but someone bought something expensive and was bragging about how much he paid for it.

I didn't want to rain on his parade so I kept quiet about it but the truth is he got shafted. He paid too much.

The truth is that there are a lot of manufactured goods out there that you are just buying a name brand on and the off brands are just as good or even in many cases better.

Some years ago when I began my career as a competitive shooter I saw the normal M-14 on the line was made by a certain company that wanted an arm and a leg for one.

I wound up getting a better one for less by simply buying a well made receiver, a good barrel and a surplus parts kit along with a National Match stock. Then I had a friend barrel the action and assemble it for me one evening for a bottle of bourbon. I came out well ahead of the game and wound up with a better rifle than those off the shelf.

Of course, there were few M14 makers out there at the time.

I also did well when I bought my sailboat by avoiding the big names out there that were in vogue at the time.

I was on the west coast and was looking for a deep water cruiser. Most of the manufacturers in the area were building light racing boats and even on the used market they commanded premium prices. The very few serious makers of cruisers were totally off the charts money wise.

I took an alternative route. I looked around for a solid boat that was built in New England and wasn't very popular locally. It wasn't a part of the cool racing type that was in vogue at the time. Nor was it really a weekender. It was somewhat of a spartan deepwater cruiser.

I bought her for a good price. 

I wound up with twice the boat for half the money and equally as important, she was designed for my specific purpose.

I can't help but think that my friend that is boasting wasn't really thinking when he made such an expensive purchase. He could have done a lot better.

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, November 21, 2015

Last night I had a feast.

Yesterday I bagged the Northern Marianas, Tinian to be exact. This is courtesy of a Japanese ham that sets up there from time to time. Interesting.

Tinian is where Enola Gay took off to bomb Hiroshima.


Right now I am sitting here enjoying the beginnings of a great breakfast that I have not had in a while. Codfish and eggs.

I'm having morning coffee now so it will be a while.


The deer are out in the back yard and they have sure grown to be a pretty sizable herd of about 7 or 8. Winter is coming and I suppose disease will thin it out over the next few months. That and an occasional meeting of an automobile.


Nothing major to report here but I did have a great dinner with a relative last night. I like doing that as it give me a chance to cook a bigger meal than usual. Nobody really likes to cook for themselves and they don't do as good of of a job when they do. 

Last night I did some codfish up right and made it a point to cook too much so I'd have leftovers for breakfast.

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, November 20, 2015

Something interesting happened

Eleven days ago I worked another ham in Burkina Faso. 

Yesterday I got his QSL card. 

Now you have to remember that the ham I worked in Burkina Faso is an older guy that is there visiting people and doesn't appear to be a millionaire. Most likely he's a working class guy that is retired or maybe semi-retired. I know little about him, really.

What gets me is that when a major funded DXpedition returns home it takes months before the QSL cards start being sent out. 

This kind of stuff isn't just a part of ham radio, it is a part of life.

Ever notice that a working stiff is likely to pay his bills as soon as they arrive? On the other hand a lot of the rich take their own sweet time.

There is a lot of that and I'd have to say that it is a part of why people tend to have little love for the rich. They are often loathe to part with their money. It seems to be a matter of wanting to have their cake and eat it, too.

Years ago when I was a small time contractor and handyman I used to offer a small discount for cash upon completion. That tended to get people to pay me on time as they figured they were saving something.

Anyway, what happened with an older guy in Africa and a QSL card seems to be typical human nature. 

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, November 19, 2015

A busy day.

I might get back to this later on today but I am busy now.

Brief update:

Someone asked me yesterday about learning a second language.

I told him the best way was to get a few basics in school and then move to the appropriate country.

Oh, yeah. My Japanese ham friend reports that she has figured out how to deal with the myriad of American accents.

She simply works the States on CW.

Smart lady.

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, November 18, 2015

To a certain YL living in Japan.

I'm an AMERICAN and I'm pretty proud to say it.

I wonder how many people in the world REALLY knows what it is to be an American.

It means that our ancestors got booted out of every other decent place to live. About the only other place in the world that is even close to the United States is Australia because it was settled by British convicts.

I have been trading emails with a couple of Japanese lately and I'd bet that the average Japanese can trace their ancestors back for well over a thousand years. 

I am a very rare American because I can trace one side of mine back to 1620. Most Americans can't trace themselves back that far. It's a stretch but I think the Pilgrim would be a 28th cousin 94 times removed. (or some damned thing. I never figured all that geneology stuff out and I am guessing  here. ) 

I am of half Irish ancestry and they came here during some potato famine or something in the second half of the 1800s.  One my ancestors came here  to escape being hanged for stealing sheep according to my mother.

My father's side is different. My fraternal grandfather had roots that went back to the Pilgrims and the early settlers. There is a historical house in Maine that my his side traces back to.

My father's mother came to the States in the early 1900s from Austria and worked as a maid for a while. During WW1 she faced a certain amount of predjudice for being Austrian.  I remember her as a woman that came out every morning and raised the flag. She took it down every evening, regular as clockwork.

To the day she died she had a touch of the Austrian accent and had minor problems with Vs and Ws.

Some Japanese seem to have problems with the letter L and someone told me the sound is alien to the Japanese language. I just worked a Japanese in Anguilla on vacation about  an hour ago. There was an L in his call sign and I did have a hard time picking it up. Most Japanese I have QSO's on SSB have mastered the English L, though.

Anyway, that's just me and where I came from. The bottom line is that I am a mongrel just like most American that have been here for more than a couple of generations.

When you look at the way this country was settled it is no wonder we are the way we are. In parts The United States was settled in waves pretty much depending on what was going on in Europe.

A couple of potato famines sent waves of Irish over here and something in Italy sent waves of Italians over here. The steel mills of Pittsburgh sent over waves of eastern Europeans as there was likely no work in eastern Europe at the time.

As is human nature, the arriving wave of immigrants was usually subjected to predjudice that really didn't last for very long. I would have to say that a lot of this was probably over jobs. Those that were already here were probably afraid of losing their jobs to newcomers. As jobs were created things probably settled down and they were accepted.

Most of us figured out how to live with each other as best we could and in a generation or two started intermarrying. Seeing international or interracial couples in this country is the pretty much the way it is. Seeing anyone that can say that their family is 100% anything probably means they are either new immigrants or maybe first generation.

When you couple that with our history it is little wonder that we are basically an odd lot.

One of the interesting things that brought my wife's family here back in the 1800s was the availability of land. 

The Homestead Act of 1863 was an effort on the part of the govenrment to settle the Great Plains of North America. It would give the title to 160 acres of land to anyone that could 'prove up' to it. This was not a give-away, but an opportunity. 

One had to work hard to improve the land and there was a five year ime limit or one would lose the land. Both the Swedish and Norwegien ancestors of my wife settled there from their respective countries and worked hard to 'prove up' and were given the titles to thier farms.

I will add an interesting note here. The act did not close until the mid 1970s. I had just gotten out military service and was in college when the act closed. I was very seriously considering applying for 160 acres in Alaska at the time it closed. 

Incidentally the Homestead Act not only gave a lot of people an opportunity to make a life for themselves and their children. It also created a huge over abundance of produce. For decades the American midwest was considered to be the 'breadbasket of the world' as it grew so much grain it was exported in huge quantities.

This mess we call the United States is a mixture of people from every part of the world. That includes Japan and I am writing this post for a young lady that is Japanese that has been helpful to me. I met her on the air.

There are a few terms occasionally used to describe Americans of Japanese descent. None of these terms are insulting.

A young American man of Mexican decent that has parents born in Mexico may say "I'm a Chicano." It is not an insulting term.

An American may say "I'm Nisei." This means his or her parents were born in Japan. In the States he would be considered to be first generation as he is of the first generation to be born here.

An Issei is an immigrant, born in Japan. A Sansei would be the son or daughter of a Nisei.

While these terms still are in use in this country, one seldom hears them used by the younger people. A person of Japanese descent is more likely to describe themselves as being of Japanese descent.

An American of Japanese heritage in this country would not even draw a passing glance as they assimilated decades ago.

One of the very few things that I have to admit that is 100% American and only 100% American is the western movie with horse chases, revolver play, Indian fights and the US Cavalry coming to the rescue of the wagon train at exactly the nick of time.

Incidentally one of the older more well known westerns, The Magnificent Seven really isn't American in origin. It's Japanese. A Japanese named Akira Kurosawa made a movie in Japan named The Seven Samaurai.   

The Magnificent Seven is just the Japanese movie spun off in Amercan western style. 

Still, the American western is one of the few things that is totally American in nature. It is kind of difficult to picture a bunch of cowboys driving a herd of cattle through downtown Tokyo. Then again, I suppose if someone made a movie like that it would he hilarious. Personally if I were to make a movie like that I would choose Paris.

It often gives those that don't live here somewhat of a misguided idea of Americans.

In 64 years of living in this country I have never been in a wild west gunfight, fought off Indians or been on a cattle drive. While most people probably know that you would be surprised how many don't. However, I can ride a horse and one time I rode a bull.

Do not ask me about the bull ride. I was young and stupid then and drinking tequila at 8 O'clock in the morning.

About thirty years ago I landed in Paris. Many Americans at the time would try and dress like Canadians or Brits. I didn't.  I showed up dressed like an American cowboy. The French customs agent went through my bags carefully. He said he thought I might have a six-gun in my baggage.

I told him I left it back at the ranch (I don't live on a ranch) because I didn't think I would have to shoot anybody in Paris. He gave me an annoyed look. So I told him that if I had any problems I would call the US Cavalry because they always get there on time.

The Frenchman was not amused.  He said Paris was a civilized place. The Canadian behind me was laughing. He dryly commented to me that he could just picture the US Cavalry straight out of the movies galloping on horses down the streets of Paris with the bugle blowing, just in time to save the day.

The Canadian actually told the customs man that I probably wasn't going to have a showdown with someone at high noon while I was telling a French outlaw to get out of town before sundown. The Frenchman got mad at both of us.

The hapless man had no sense of humor.

One thing about an American western movie, you can't make one in Paris, London or Tokyo. Only in America.

I think there are a few things that are 100% American but not too many. One thing totally American is the hamburger.

When you consider that our people came from all over the world and brought their food with them it is no surprise that what is often called American food is nothing more than a conglomoration of foods from all over the world.

The American hot dog is an example. It is German in origin. Pizza has Italian origins. 

One of the things most people do not know about the US Navy is that besides being warfighters many of our vessels are set up to do double duty as relief vessels. Even most Americans are unaware of this.

An aircraft carrier in addition to carrying 5500 people trained in damage control, first aid and many other useful things also carrys 3 hospitals, a nuclear powerplant that can supply shore power, aircraft to evacuate patients. It can cook up to about 50,000 meals a day. That's a lot of food! They can do a lot more than that to help people.

One thing I am proud of is that they have supplied relief during natural disasters all over the world.

While we are on the subject of relief, the Japanese people sent us an awful lot of relief after Hurricane Katrina tore up New Orleans. While the Japanese government was generous, it was the Japanese people themselves that dug into their personal pockets and supplied the bulk of it. This American says Thank you very much! That was very kind of the Japanese people.

One of the things that creates difficulties is that Japan is a very polite society and Americans are different. We come across sometimes as being rude. Truth is, we're just different.

If someone suggests something in this country and someone disagrees they are probably going to say something like "That's not a good idea." Saying that to a Japanese might leave him feeling insulted when he should not feel that way.

The American is simply saying what is on his mind and means no insult. He's simply saying the IDEA isn't a good one. He's not saying anything bad about the person. It is just a given that all of us have dozens of ideas daily, some good, some not so good. To an American it is no big thing.

A Japanese might say about a bad idea something like "The idea should go through careful consideration."

To an American that means that it should probably be looked into and considered how it can be enabled. There is a lot of room for mis-communication between the two cultures. There is no right or wrong here. It simply is what it is.

While that is not too bad, a Japanese in the States traveling around is going to have a pretty hard time if they get used to English as it is spoken in Aroostock County, Maine and then go to Cajun country down in Louisiana.

Not only is their English different as far as accents and inflections go, their vocabulary is different. It is sometimes hard enough for a lot of Americans to understand each other. For someone else not born here? They would be lost!

The funniest SSB QSO I ever heard was between two Americans. One was in the northern part of Maine and the other was a Louisiana Cajun. It took forever for them to even trade call signs. Someone later commented that that particular QSO was DX by everything but definition. Those two would have been a lot better off using CW.

I suppose a lot of people think the United States is a strange place to live but the truth is I like it. While we sure have our share of problems here but it is interesting.

If this is difficult for you to understand then maybe you know someone that has been to the States and can help you read this.

73 and Good DX!

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, November 17, 2015

Break out the battery acid! It's clean the sink time


Which isn't really what I did the other day but I have done it before.

There are now a whole bunch of cleaning agents out there that are supposedly 'green', meaning they are not supposed to hurt the enviornment. I do wonder, though because just about everything effects it one way or another.

People that drive a Prius always gloat about not polluting the atmosphere. When they do that to me I point out that the construction of a Prius uses rare metals that have to be mined and carry on about people in disadvantaged nations being herded into the mines for pennies a day.

Anyway, I remember the time I had a stained stainless steel sink to deal with and nobody was looking. I put on rubber gloves, plugged the sink and dumped in a bunch of battery acid and let 'er rip.

It actually did a pretty good job but I did feel guilty about it. The next time I needed to clean a stainless steel sink I used a grinder with rubbing compound and really shined it up. It did take a while, though.

The other day I cleaned a porcelin sink and there were a couple of stains in it. This happens and it is a case of a woman looking at the sink in the bath and kitchen department and getting all worked up about how beautiful it is. Of course she forgets about how hard it is to take care of but, dammit, it looks good.

Most guys and many women know stainless steel is more practical. It is far easier to take care of.

Anyway I covered the stains with Coment and soaked the Comet with bleach and let it sit for a couple hours and gave it a quick scrubbing and it came out great.

Bathtubs are a snap if you are willing to keep after them. All I do every couple of days is spray the tub and tiles with a little citrus degreaser and the next time you use the shower it cleans itself. It sure beats scrubbing your fingers to the bone with one of the newer 'green' products that don't work very well.

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, November 16, 2015

The teenager down the street is getting to the point

where it is now time for his dad to teach him how to shave.

His dad mentioned that a few days ago and when I saw the kid the day before yesterday I mentioned it to him. I asked what kind of razor he uses and he said it was one of the throwaways.

"Yeah?" I replied. "Those are for sissies. Swing by the house Saturday morning and I'll show you how to shave with a Ka-Bar."

The look I got back said I didn't fool that kid for an instant.

Then I remember the time I fooled the Sergeant Major during a field training exercise.

They used to make sure we shaved daily in the field and for some reason I had a knack for getting hot water to shave with.

One morning I got a pretty good shave and after I was done I re lathered my face and left the tent and started scraping it off my face with a knife I carried on my web gear. I believe it was a Gerber Commando but I could be wrong.

The Sergeant Major happened to wander on by and looked at me wide-eyed. Then he ran his finger on the cheek that I had just scraped the lather off.

"Damn!" he said as he walked off shaking his head.

To this day I am still surprised I fooled the old soldier.

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, November 15, 2015

My sarcasm sometimes gets me into trouble

...but not always.

Some time ago I went into one of the Big Box stores and was looking at chipper/shredders. 

The Lawn and Garden was finishing up with some woman and I looked at him.

"Recommend a chipper/shredder," I said. "The damned paperboy keeps missing my porch and I figure they'll replace him if he turns up missing. Besides my flowers could use him as fertilizer."

He didn't bat an eyelash. "Go check out the model XP-100 over there," he replied. "It's the same model I used on my ex-wife last spring."

Of course the nosy woman flipped out for a second and when she recovered she told the pair of us that we were not very funny. Some people simply do not have a sense of humor.

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, November 14, 2015

I just got a QSL card from the King of Spain.

OK it really didn't come from the King himself. It came from the Spanish radio club there that ran a special event commemorating the new King of Spain.

I suppose if we Americans had a king and he got replaced our corrosponding special event would bill the new monarch as 'The New and Improved King of America'. Anything for a buck and you just KNOW the clowns on Madison Avenue would just have to get their nose into a coronation.

Anyway, the new king was simply billed as the 'New King of Spain'.

I am not disrespectful of other places. However, as most readers have figured out I am often a clown.

When I worked that station on 15 meters I purposely misunderstood the Spanish operator and acted astonished and asked him, "Wow! Are you really the King of Spain?"

He flustered and went through a long winded explanation of how he was working a special event celebrating the coronation of a new king.

True to form I acted disappointed and apologized for thinking he was the King but pointed out that the King that was being replaced was a ham, EA0JC. Then I asked if the new king was going to go on the air. He didn't know.

Still, I caught him off guard and it was fun listening to him explain things.

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, November 13, 2015

General Kuribayashi must have died a very tormented soul.

Today is my birthday and I feel like writing a piece on someone I consider to be interesting.

Of all of the officers that served in WW2 on either side the man I consider the one I would like to share an evening over dinner and drinks with is General Tadamichi Kuribayashi.

The more I read about the man the more interesting he gets.

For those that don't know who he was, he was the commanding officer that led the Japanese troops during the battle of Iwo Jima.

I know that I wll likely anger a few people by saying this but nobody really won that battle. Nobody wins a battle like that. There are no winners and losers in a case like that. There are only survivors.

The Americans merely prevailed and paid the price that the Japanese asked for in terms of lives. The Americans only prevailed by sending enough Marines into the meat grinder until they prevailed by sheer force of numbers.

It was the single battle in Marine Corps history where the Marines took more casuaties than they dished out to the enemy.

If one takes a look at the papers of Tadimichi Kuribayashi you find he was a soldier, a thinker, a family man and a compassionate yet demanding commander.

His notes, especially the notes to his family show a lot about the man. He spent a total of five years away from his family on the North American continent. Three years in the States, and two years in Canada.

The fascinating part is that he learned to actually like and respect us big nosed big footed Americans in spite of our clumsy ways.

He probably figured out that Americans were nothing more than a motley collection of people that had been kicked out of any other decent place to live. However, he was probably too tactful to say it even though it's probably pretty true.

He took time to meet and listen to just about everyone he encountered from high ranking military officers down to the kid that delivered his morning paper. He actually took the paper boy in one morning and gave him something to eat as he figured the kid was hungry. While the kid was there he likely listened to what he had to say.

There are not a whole lot of people that would be interested in the life and times of the paper boy, but Tadimichi Kuriayashi was.

While he did attend classes at Harvard he made time to get out and explore they country. He knew there was likely more to the United States than the classrooms of New England and the offices of military officers. Most likely his curiosity of our ways interested him.

Japanese officers of the time were issued automobile transportation along with drivers. They were not expected to drive themselves around. However, by the time Kuribayishi got to the States he saw how mobile our society was even back then.

He found a couple of American officers and got them to teach him how to drive. He then bought an automobile and decided to explore the heartland of the United States.

He noted the industrial centers like Detroit and realized their potential and knew that it would only take a phone call to turn the plants making cars and machinery into huge factories producing military equipment. 

Personally I think that in addition to this he knew that a country with the motto 'Anything for a buck' was capable of turning marshland into shipyards overnight. I have seen some of these shipyards and to this day many of the buildings are still standing and taken over for peaceful purposes.

Still, I can't help think that one simple event made him do some serious thinking.

Cars were pretty primitive back then and sure enough, Kuribayashi got himself a flat tire out in the middle of nowhere. He didn't have the first clue on how to change it.

Along came a pretty little teenaged farm girl that changed it for him and sent him on his way. He wrote about her briefly and commented in so many words that if a young farm girl was capable of maintaining an automobile there was no telling what the rest of the population was like. I think this stayed with him.

An important thing about him, too, was that he was really a family man and did the best he could even in his absence to try and be a good father. I have read some of the letters he sent home and he would draw sketches and describe his adventures in the States. He was concerned over schoolwork. He also sent home  an advertising picture of the Chevrolet he bought. What a thoughtful dad!

I would imagine that 8 December, 1941 was not a very good day for him as he was an outspoken officer that was against going to war with the United States. It is likely he knew that that particular move was the beginning of the end of the Japanese Empire.

He was not alone. Admiral Yamamoto was against going to war with the United States also.

As a the Chief of Field Staff of the Japanese 23rd Army he was stationed in Hong Kong. During that assignment he often visited wounded soldiers in field hospitals, something officers of his stature almost never did.

His stationing to Iwo Jima most likely was out of spite. He wanted a negotiated peace and was probably seen as a defeatist by Tojo who ordered him there.

He must have known from the beginning that he was sent there to die. Yet he was a good soldier and good soldiers obey orders. He arrived there and immediately started setting up defenses.

He knew he could never hold the island but knew the American character. He hoped that if he could run the American casualty count  up that maybe the United States would accept a negotiated peace.

Truth is, when all was over with and the smoke cleared he had done quite a remarkable job of inflicting casualties on the US Marine Corps.

There is some mystery regarding the death of Kuribayashi and personally I believe that he died during the final attack that was made after the island was supposedly secured.

On 26 March, 1945 I believe Kuribayachi personally led the attack on Air Corps ground crews and leftover Marines. I believe he was dressed in the uniform of a private to provide anonimity when he died as he knew he was going to. I do not believe he commetted ritual seppuku as he had ordered his people not to run banzai attacks on American forces. He considered this as being a waste of lives.

This is one guy I wish I could sit down and talk with. He strikes me as being very interesting.

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, November 12, 2015

I just got word from my Burkina Faso

 contact that my QSL card is on the way. This is nothing short of amazing when you think about it. The guy in Burkina Faso isn't a funded DXpedition. He's just a regular guy that is there from Germany.

I worked him three or four days ago and my card is already on the way! A major funded DXpedition generally takes months before the cards arrive.

Of course, he is in AFRICA. That brings on a lot of things to mind. Now let's NOT let the facts get in the way of a good story. I figure that in real life he's most likely visiting friends. He probably sleeps in clean sheets and sets up his rig in clearings of some sort. He's probably clad in a pair of khaki pants and probably a cotton shirt.

Yet one ot the thinga about ham radio is that you don't see the operator at the other end of things. You only have an imagination to go with.

Enter the costume department that has supplied Hollywood for decades. We now picture the guy on the other end of the radio in maybe a leather jacket and fedora ala Indiana Jones. Or maybe he's in a khaki bush jacket with khaki shorts, sand colored knee socks, wearing a pith helmet and with a huge Webely revolver strapped to his hip and carrying a big bore Gibbs .505.

Yeah, that's more like it!

He's sitting behind his rig in a mud hut and hears a Tarzan yell. He cocks his ear to see which direction the elephants are going to go and relaxes. They are not headed his way. Some other village that angered Tarzan is going to get flattened.

As he looks out the window he sees Tarzan swing by and waits for a second to see Jane, Boy and Cheetah following the Ape Man as they head off somewhere into the deepest jungle. Tarzan is probably looking for another alligator to wrestle with.

He turns back to the radio. "Calling Bombay!" he says in a clippped British accent. Of course, the fact that this guy is a German and is running Morse has nothing to do with it. People think what they want to and that's the way this one is going to be pictured in their minds.

It's kind of like seeing a jet plane passing through the clouds and hearing propeller noise. It really doesn't fit but that's what you want to believe so you do.

Meanwhile the natives are outside the hut dancing around the fire. Is trouble brewing?

There is the roar of a lion in the background and the constant movie jungle noises. 

At this point he reaches for a square bottle of gin and makes himself a drink as he surveys the village with an arrogant look on his face and tells a native kid to turn the generator powering his rig.

Or that's what central casting and the magicians of Hollywood would have you believe. Most likely he's actually there visiting friends he made, either when he was there working years ago or friends that are there working now.

If one takes a few minutes to look up Burkina Faso they will find that it is kind of a middle ground between the deserts of North Africa and the lush tropical rain forests south of the place. While probably fertile it certainly isn't the Tarzan movie jungle one sees the Ape Man living in. Nor is it camel-through-the -desert country like North Africa. It's somewhat of a transitional part of the continent.

I once worked an Italian woman with a beautiful voice and from what she sounded like she was a Sophia Loren look-alike. I think of her as the Contessa, a true gorgeous blue blood.

Of course, I have never seen her so she may very well be an 80 year-old 400 pound woman in a muu-muu but I don't really want to think of her as anything but the Contessa. Why ruin a good day dream?

I think this guy that worked me from Burkina Faso is going to go into the same kind of slot. Even though he's probably a guy in khaki pants and a cotton shirt, it is a lot more fun to envision him as the guy in the bush jacket with the big Webley revolver on his hip.

Seeing how I'm the one telling the story, I think that I'll stick with it. It sounds better that way.

Of course, it is highly likely that this guy, while nowhere near as colorful as a movie character has had quite an exciting life in Africa. Maybe even more interesting than most of the Hollywood characters out of the movies.

He just doesn't have a good press agent and a team of spin doctors to turn things into cliffhangers.

Thank you, Harald!


One of these days I am going to have to write about the QSO I made the night the cat's tail hit the VFO and changed frequencies on me. I was trying to work a pileup in California and landed in the middle of another pileup. 

Instead of being mad at the cat, I decided that one pileup was as good as another so I simply kept trying to bust through.

When I busted through I explained what happened and asked for his call sign. You are supposed to have that before you enter the fray but when I explained I got a pass. 

I found myself talking to an Arab.

A couple of emails followed and I played kind of dumb, much to his amusement. He was actually well educated and traveled so it was a lot of fun.

I acted like there really were things such as genies and flying carpets. He sent back that he had one question regarding life in the States. He wanted to know why the US Cavalry ALWAYS arrived JUST in the nick of time.


While we are at it, I made a QSO with a Moroccan that was in Casablanca at the time. I asked him if Rick's Place was still there. I was curious and thought it might go over his head.

Not...The guy was sharp!

He told me that Rick closed it in '43 and smuggled himself out and made it back to Chicago where he met up with Elsa. She dumped Laszlo and married Rick and they had a bunch of kids together.

Great answer! I laughed myself silly when I heard it.

You just gotta love Hollywood.

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, November 11, 2015

Yesterday was pretty much a nothing day.

as the cat kept waking me up and I felt like hell all day. We'll see what today brings. I feel pretty good now.

Today I have a medical appointment even though nothing is wrong with me. My wife wants me to see a dermatologist as I do work outside and she wants me checked for skin cancers and things likke that.

As a kid I would burn once in the late spring and then turn as brown as a berry all summer. There would be times we'd wear nothing but a set of shorts, shirt optional for days on end. My bare feet would toughen like it was made out of shoe leather.

I guess you're not supposed to do that.

I did it anyway, though.

Anyway this leads to another thing.

Ever notice the germ-aphobes you meet in life are constantly sick?

These are the guys that run around sterilizing everything they see. They bleach the counter every time they put a plate on it and seem to have a life's goal of killing off every single germ in the planet.

Then you take a look at someone like Pig Pen McGillicuddy that has never even sneezed once in his entire life. He's the guy that can fish a half-eaten rotten fish sandwich out of the trash Monday and have it for lunch with no ill effects.

My guess is that Pig Pen has an antibody system that will repel everything short of a direct hit with an artillery round. On the other hand, hoity-toity Harry there that spends half his income on bleach and Lysol gets a cold out of thin air. Eating the sandwich Pig Pen had for lunch would likely hospitalize him and he'd need an antibiotic IV for 2 weeks just to survive.

I have always thought that a lot of what ails the human race is that we have gotten simply too damned civilized. We don't allow our bodies to build our immunity system up to its potential.

Which leads to all of these allergies which are a recent development. We're doing something all wrong here.

I think it begins at childhood.

Back in the day we played outside and came home all muddy and dirty with skinned elbows and knees. Today it seems like kids play inside all the time and parents seem  afraid of letting their kids out of the bubble they have created for them. 

I wonder that a lot of this is created by being too civilized and too clean. If you don't let a few germs in the antibody system seems to fall asleep and then some small little thing knocks you down for a serious illness.

Well, seeing I have to go to the doctor's today I guess I better put on clean underwear so the doctor know I come from a good family and will try harder to save me.

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Tuesday, November 10, 2015

An American in Paris

which is a real screwed up tale of woe.

A tip from the old salt.

If you go to Paris do not try and dress like a Brit. They'll see through it in a heartbeat.

Instead, dress like an American cowboy.

Yup. A real, horse ridin' six-gun slingin' cattle ropin' American cowboy. Complete with a piggin' string or two in your back pocket.

While the rest of France is a pretty good place to visit, Paris isn't too hot. 

The trick to dealing with Paris is to be a loose cannon keep 'em guessing.


Happy Birthday, US Marines!

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, November 9, 2015

It is a Monday morning

Which means nothing to me as I do not have to go to work and spin the wheels of industry.

However to a lot of people it means they get up, groan and go through the motions of getting to work. Some like what they do, others don't.

I think that later today I am going to do a little nasty cooking. I have had an urge for quite some time to get my grease level up as losing weight has dropped it considerably. In short it is time for a real gut bomb.

The short of it is that I am going to make three grilled bacon and cheese sandwiches and stuff two hamburger patties between them. That ought to get the old grease level up.

Of course that means Tuesday it is back on the regimen again.

One of the things that makes a lot of things like diets fail is when it becomes a rigid inflexible thing. You have to allow yourself to cut loose every so often. All work and no play makes John a dull boy.

When you take on a project like losing weight you don't have to change your entire lifestyle you just have to move a few things around. You actually have to make allowances for little binges of some sort here and there.

I managed to cut my other vices down with the same technique. I cut my use of alcohol down considerably simply by changing my attitude toward things. Truth is now I appreciate a drink more when I do decide to have one. There's quite a difference in my outlook since I cut down.

I may not pop a top tonight but when I do decide to tip a couple they will taste a whole lot better than they do when they are just a routine part of your intake. The other part is you don't need to tip a half-dozen to enjoy them.

The trick to losing weight is to pay attention and think about which calories you can cut out without starving yourself or cheating yourself out of some (but not all) of the finer things in life.

One of those supermodels said something that probably made every woman on earth look at her with daggers in their eyes. While not a direct quote it was something along these lines.

"I love grease. I can put a piece of bread in a pan where a steak has been fried. Then eat the bread."

Of course, every woman that is out there counting calories wanted to hack the woman up. Here she was a supermodel that could eat what she wanted and the rest of the women out there were counting calories and starving and still were overweight.....

I often feel the same way the supermodel does. I love grease, too.

The difference is that I have decided to put it in its place. It is now no longer an integral part of my diet. It is now a special treat.

As of now I am about five pounds short of my goal and likely tomorrow morning I and going to be six pounds short of my goal.

That's just too damned bad. In fact I very well may wash tonight's grease burger down with a nice ice cold beer or two.

Of course, tomorrow morning I will be back on the regimen.

Which leads to another question. Why did I call it a regimen? It really isn't. It's actually just sensible eating which I suppose I should have been doing all along.  

Living fairly sensibly isn't all that bad.


In hobby news I just got an email from the eQSL people.

The eQSL people are a website that a lot of people use to confirm ham radio contacts. They are not generally recognized by organizations like the ARRL but serve a purpose. They run on donations and inexpensive memberships although the basic membership is free.

While I have over 200 DX entities under my belt and as of now I have 197 confirmed on paper, I now have 100 entities confirmed with the eQSL people as of this morning's email. I can now go to my page and print up a nice certificate. Suitable for framing.

I may and when I do I'll likely hang it up somewhere. I was considering over the toilet tank but there is already a sign there that says 'No Fishing'.

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, November 8, 2015

I didn't make the cut.

I spent the day based on trying to work Mozambique as there is a DXpedition there. Most of the driving force there seems to be a young lady from Wales that is a GREAT operator.

I once worked her when she was at her home station in Wales. She was pretty funny that time.

I worked her briefly and when we had exchanged call signs and signal reports she said that she had two other friends that wanted to work me and passed me off to one of them. I worked him and he passed me on. Three DX QSOs in just about a minute. Pretty good.

It was exhilarating until I later thought about it. Then my face burned with shame and humiliation as I realized I had just let a brazen woman pass me around to be used like a tissue but I digress...

Anyway, I guess she went to Mozambique on a DXpedition.

I missed most of it because I was at sea but tried to work her during the last three days of it with a remarkable lack of success.

Last night she taught me the difference between a good operator and a GREAT operator.

I had her on a VERY weak 2x2 and was trying to work her during the ups and downs of a really lousy signal.

I would try and work her when I could make out what she was saying and stay silent during the time she turned to gibberish or I'd lose her.

I tried several times and she proved she wasn't a 'cherry picker'.

She must have pretty damned good ears because she threw back my prefix and tried several times to get my suffix. She didn't quit until after several tries and finally gave up because it wasn't fair to the others.

People like that are great operators because they try and work the weak and QRP stations and give them a shot at a new entity. I have to respect that.

While I didn't make it into her logbook I think I was given the privilege of getting to see a truly great operator in action.

On the other hand there are days I can't lose for winning.


I didn't sit at my rig all day trying to QSO with her. When propagation was down I ran errands, fixed things or tried to work other people on other bands.

During a lull between chasing her I inadvertently wandered into what was another pileup. I guess it was during a lull or something because I sent out my call in code and promptly got it thrown back at me with a 5NN signal report. I was a bit stunned and sent him back a 5NN and listened as he worked several other stations. 

It took me several tries but I finally figured out his call and looked it up. When I figured out his call I penciled it into my log. I emailed him later that evening and found out I'm in his log and I now have Burkina Faso in my log. 

 I've sent for a card already.

Incidentally I think the guy in Burkina Faso is probably is wondering who I am. I'm going to have to stop practicing CW on the air or at least stop sending out that I am a Japanese corporal in New Guinea that doesn't know the war is over.

One of these days someone's going to report me to the Japanese Self-Defense Forces and they'll mount a rescue operation of some sort.

On the other hand, maybe I should keep it up. After all Geraldo Rivera hasn't had anything to do for a  while and maybe FOX will send him to cover the wild goose chase rescue operation. There is nothing so satisfying as seeing Geraldo Rivera with egg on his face.

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