Another day another dime.

Or whatever.

Today is a busy day but I will sit here for a few minutes before the organized chaos begins...

I have been in a mean funk of sorts for quite some time to the point where I have parked the bottle for a while. It hasn't helped a whole lot, but it hasn't hurt, either. I think I'll keep the jug where it is for a while and just leave it there for festive occasions like holidays.

I have attributed a lot of how I feel to smoking cessation and it still has not settled down very much. It is no easier than it was the day I stopped and to a point is a little more difficult in some ways.

When you look at what has basically been a fifty year habit it is pretty surprising I have gotten this far. 

I am a perverse bastard and make damned sure there is a pack of Camels in the freezer. When I decided to stop drinking for a while I made damned sure I went out and bought a bottle of bourbon and put it away. This is so I don't go into a panic because I ran out.

There is a difference between not smoking and drinking because you want to stop and stopping because you ran out of smokes or booze.

It isn't for everybody, but for me the first step in stopping something like this is to stock up so you don't run out.

I have written that a while ago some person full of good intentions took my Camels out of the freezer. When I discovered it I went into somewhat of a panic and ran out and bought another pack and put it back in the freezer where it remains and will remain for quite some time.

Actually it is now tax time and as such is a VERY stressful time. I will not get into why save to say my other half gets worked up about it and it rubs off.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Speaking of tax time I heard a couple of people I know that are born again liberals griping about tax time and how much they have to pay.

I laughed and told them that the money for their wonderful social programs had to come from somewhere and that by cheating on their taxes they would be hypocrites.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

In other news I went to the skeet range yesterday and picked up a bunch of slightly damaged clay pigeons and brought them home.

Right now they are in the crock pot (which is NOT plugged in).

There is a note to my wife next to it instructing her to let them simmer for a real long time to let them soften up.

You shoot it, you eat it.

Save the skeets!



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Really? How could that possibly be? Piccolo gets an assist.

from an octogenarian. 

There was a cheerful youngster in front of me in Target the other day. I looked at the lad and asked him how old he was and he said he was six.

I smiled and told him that when I was his age I was nine. The kid smiled. He knew he was having his leg pulled. His mother was an idiot.

She looked at me. "How could that possibly be?" she asked.

The old man behind me looked up and with a straight face explained to the confused woman that we had to grow up faster back then because we were in the middle of a war.

Hook, line and sinker.

Whoever you are, Old Timer, I thank you. 



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I am working on my secondary laptop this morning because

I am busy downloading updates on my new primary one.

The last of the Itronix Gobooks I have used for years is now semi retired and sits in a far away nook.

A relative gave me a wonderful Dell a few months ago and I decided NOT to use it for travel. It is hooked up to my TV and will remain there for whatever I decide to watch that I can snag on line.

The other night I watched a pretty good free movie I scored.

This morning is sort of a funky morning. I am in the process of firing up another cell phone which a month ago would have made no sense. My new smart phone is somewhat of a nuisance to pack around everywhere and when I leave it on the table for some reason I miss calls.

I am seriously thinking of jettisoning my smart phone and going with a data plan on a  Kindle and a simple flip phone but am not sure yet.

The problem is texting as I hate texting on a flip phone and lately texting has increased to the point of being an aggravation. However I often do have to reply.



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Yesterday's gone,

Thank God.

It was a stressful day full of stupid.

One good thing happened, though. I upgraded and picked up another solid modern laptop.

Yesterday I had to listen to a lot of screaming, shouting and carrying on. It is things like yesterday that make me wonder about way the legal system is set up.

It wasn't long ago that the police departments had a little more discretion to let things slide.  

When screamer gets in your face telling you that if you do anything they will have you arrested then you know that the law is being abused.

If I had my way there would be a civil behavior clause in a lot of laws. It would say that people have the right to protection under law only so long as they themselves stayed civil.

It would do a lot to force people to behave themselves.






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I am watching an advertisement

for an computer anti virus.

It is a supposed Russian hacker bragging about how rich he has gotten hacking American computers. He says that the only anti virus he can't sneak through is such and such.

I have had enough of Russian hackers.

If this guy was really as good as he says he is he would have been bragging about fixing our recent presidential election.

On the other hand I suppose I wouldn't believe that either.


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Last night I went to a junk auction.

It was hilarious.

It was a fun fund raiser for the local radio club. Everyone emptied their junk boxes and took them to the meeting to be auctioned off.

Someone had a bunch of old dictaphone parts that were being auctioned off.

While the bidding was going on for those someone asked me if I remember using a dictaphone.

I told him I always used my finger.


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A series of bad decisions...

I am up, it is late and I do not feel very good because of a series of bad decisions spiraled.

I skipped dinner and had a drink that hit an empty stomach and kind of hit me a little harder than usual. It also made me hungry so I ordered a pizza and ate the whole damned thing.

Actually the pizza hurt me worse than a drink on an empty stomach this morning. It'll likely take a couple hours to get me running on all cylinders again.



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My mother was not alone on my

shit list of people that didn't know what was good for them.

In my lifetime I have had to deal with quite a number of people that thought they knew what was good for me and have tried to steer me in this direction or that. It never works unless it is the direction I was headed to anyway.

As I write now I have been smoke free for nearly 100 days. However, there is a pack of Camels in the freezer in case I decide I want a smoke. It is the third pack I have put there since I stopped smoking.

Someone keeps taking it out and throwing it away because they are afraid of me seeing it and starting up again. I keep replacing it and last month has a loud word with my wife to leave it the hell alone and stop trying to save me from myself.

One of my biggest pet peeves is someone trying to save me from myself. It generally results in an ugly knee jerk reaction.
Let's look at my smoking cessation. I have stopped smoking. I have NOT quit because I have never quit anything in my life. If nothing else, I am persistent. I do not quit.

I have stopped smoking because I wanted to stop smoking and I reserve the right to start up again any time I see fit.
If I knew the world was going to end tomorrow I would go straight to the nearest 7-Eleven and buy a pack of Camels, climb up onto the top of my roof, light up and watch the world end.

I had a long talk with my doctor about old age and although it took him some figuring out, he finally understood. He knows that if I end up with some always fatal disease he is to give me the OK to start up again. Until then I suppose I will stay smoke free but maybe not. Either way it is my choice and only my choice and there is nothing anyone else can do about it. Tough shit.




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I miss my father.

Lately I have been mulling over the years between 25 and about 40. All I can say is thank God for my father.

After my first marriage failed I changed course and started to follow my childhood dreams and moved into a tipi in the Rockies. After a year or so of that I hitch hiked to Alaska and lived there in an alternative lifestyle for well over a decade.

Meanwhile my mother was always asking me when I was going to marry an nice Catholic girl and settle down.

For the life of me I could never get it into that poor woman's head that my situation was a big Catch-22.

Any women that had her act together would take one look at me and run off instantly. If she didn't and appeared interested I looked carefully and it didn't take long to find out something was wrong with her and I didn't want anything to do with her.

One time my mom pointed out that a certain young lady had just graduated from Notre Dame and was single. She also pointed out the lady in question had a rich father.

"That's all I need," I shot back. "If he is rich and sees I look at his daughter even cross-eyed he is going to schlep Vito a few grand and have me whacked!"

"Well, how about that other girl?" mom asked.

"That spoiled brat?" I replied. "It would be cheaper and easier for me to go through life with a string of prostitutes."

Mom turned purple.

Dad came to the rescue. ''If anyone like our oldest son even gave any of my daughters a passing glance I'd have him whacked in an instant."

I heard the refrigerator open and close. Dad came into the room carrying a 6-pack.

"Let's go fishin'" he said. We left for Damon's Point.

When we got to the Point a few minutes later Dad wordlessly handed me a hand line and took another one and we headed to the bridge. There were no hooks on the lines, just a simple sinker. No use letting a fishing trip to the Point get ruined by some damned fish.

We both spooled out line and threw the sinkers into the river and opened beers.We rested against the railing and communicated for the next couple of hours. He knew and understood and I knew he understood. We just stood there overlooking the horizon and enjoyed each other's company in harmony and total communication.

After a while we both spooled in the hand lines, got into the car and drove home.

From the time we left to the time we arrived home neither of us had said one single word to each other but we both knew what the other was thinking.

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Today is Day 100 smoke free

And last night was a gold plated son of a bitch.

I had to go to a memorial service for a friend. It sucked because I never knew she passed until the service was over and the reception at the family manse was going on. 

I went and explained that nobody had told me and it was a chance occurrence I had even found out.

I didn't like it, really because there were just too many damned triggers there and I was constantly craving a smoke.




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A day of intense frustration and anger

I am not going to get into it on a public forum but today I was forced to start Spring Cleaning a couple of months early.

It is what it is.

Last night I had a nice game dinner at my local Sportsman's club.

I had some nice elk, pheasant and rabbit. It was good eating.






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Sometimes you wish someone would just give something a rest.

I am STILL hearing about the Al Capone comment I made the other day.

Give it a rest, already.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I have too damned much to do today and I do have a pretty good lead on it already. A big part is house cleaning.  Last night I sprayed the toilet, sink and tub down with Zep and it will only take me a few minutes to clean those up.

Why bust your ass? 



cc





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Explaining that yesterday was 87 years since Capone's guys hit 7 of Bugs Moran's

did not prove to be a good idea.

I may post something later on today.



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Today is St. Valentine's Day

And in 1929 four of Al Capone's boys gunned down seven of Bugs Moran's guys in a Chicago garage.

Happy Valentine's Day!

888888888888888888888888

Yesterday was a circus. I did manage to get my physical done.

One of the newer medical assistants asked me about a scar. She's probably pretty new and somewhat naive. Like most men that have made their careers outside working with tools I carry well over a score of various nicks and scars. 

I told her I didn't remember where I got the one she asked about.

She looked a bit incredulous and seemed shocked I couldn't remember so I looked at it.

"Oh, that one," I said.

She looked at me and I said, "I was celebrating my tenth birthday getting drunk with my old man in a whorehouse. While we were checking out the girls when some sailor was all coked up and came at me with a busted beer bottle. I was a little faster and stuck him with my switchblade before he could hit me twice."

I expected a look of horror but was pleasantly surprised.

"You really don't know where that scar came from, do you?"

"Most guys that worked outside don't. It's just another day. I probably patched it up with duct tape and went back to work," I replied.

She gave me a thoughtful look and said, "It goes with the lifestyle, huh?"

Actually she may have been inexperienced but she was at least intelligent and willing to learn. She's OK.

*********************

Now comes the rough part of the physical. I have to get the form checked out by the Coast Guard.

The main office is in WV  but my Regional Exam Center is in Toledo, Ohio and the people there are great. I will send my form to the Toledo people who will go over it with a fine toothed comb and forward it to West Virginia. That way things will go through reasonably well.

I used to have my file in Baltimore because it was semi-convenient. I could just go into work a day early and have things taken care of. 

However, something there changed and they became difficult to work with. I heard that Toledo was a good REC. I checked the map and found it was actually a little closer and I went past Camp Perry so I moved my file there.

It was the smartest thing I ever did. Those people there have been wonderful.

Quite a while ago one of the Coast Guard muckety mucks started bellyaching that a lot of guys were having their files moved to another REC. He was going to get to the bottom of it and stop people from 'shopping' around for a new REC.

I had a friend that lived no more than fifteen or twenty minutes from REC Baltimore and he moved his file to Toledo because he felt that Baltimore got too sticky to deal with.

What happened is that some of the places simply obeyed the law as written. Other places added additional requirements above and beyond what was required. They did this because of the phrase "Or as directed by the OCMI." They made the requirements more stringent.

Of COURSE guys are going to avoid a place like that and for a while a lot of people simply moved their files to a location that simply obeyed the law as written with no added crap.

When a guy meets the requirements for an upgrade in his license or document he wants it upgraded. He doesn't want to hear that some local honcho has turned the REC into his personal little fiefdom and is making his own rules. Quite often an upgrade means that there is a pay raise involved, sometimes a substantial one. We are talking money here in many instances and that is nothing to fool with.

About 20 years ago I had a problem upgrading my ticket because of some arbitrary crap at the REC. Fortunately the company I was employed with at the time had been having too many of their people getting cheated out of their upgrades and they backed my request up with a lawyer. I got my upgrade.

Still, that should not have happened. I yanked my file and moved it shortly thereafter.

A few years back the Coast Guard centralized everything. Now everyone is playing on the same page. Things seem to go fairly smoothly. The RECs no longer administer the sailor's files and issue licenses. That's done in West Virginia. Instead they simply administer examinations and do a few simpler things to assist the people in WV. It is actually a fairer system.

Still, though. I shoot every bit of my paperwork through the REC because they will inspect it and make sure it will go through easily and save me having to mail and remail things.

My advice to younger guys is not to get involved with a seaman's career because it is only going to get harder and harder to keep one's license. I have said this before and I will say it again, the more the government gets involved the more troublesome something becomes. 

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Ahh, yes. Coast Guard physical time.

Which is par golf.

I have said they make things harder and harder every year.

One item on the Coast Guard physical form is colorblindness. One has to be tested for it. 

It makes sense to do this for the initial physical because an AB or licensee has to be able to know what color navigation lights are.

However, you don't 'get' colorblindness. You are either colorblind or you are not. It is not something you get from drinking rotgut liquor.

If I recall I had someone arrange to send the clinic I use a set of chromatic plates of some sort for this test because most clinics don't have them. I think I paid $10 for it on eBay.

I know another guy who had a family doctor with no proper way to test for colorblindness. The man went found an old Williams Lantern rig at an antique store and gave it to his family doctor.

The doctor set it up in the waiting room as a display and when someone came in for a Coast Guard physical he's fire the old rig up right there in the waiting room. 

Why the Coast Guard persists on colorblindness tests is beyond me. 



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Another Sunday morning and I am already at it early.

Started the day off after a good sleep and a pretty good cup of Dunkin' Donuts coffee. I should do this more often because it's good coffee.

Tomorrow I have to get my act together and get myself another Coast Guard physical because they changed the requirements. They now require one every two years. It used to be every five with a renewal.

In fact when I first got my document it was when you first got it issued and it was good for life.

I am nearing the end of my career and over the past thirty or so years have watched the government make things more and more difficult and expensive.

When I first started licenses and documents were free. Documents were good for life and licenses required a renewal every 5 years. The renewal was a simple process that took a few minutes. You went down to the REC and signed a few statements and you were off and running for another half-decade.

It grows more and more difficult to keep things going and it will not take much for an older guy to go bust on a physical and have to leave the industry ahead of schedule.

Looking at things the way they have become I would NOT recommend a career in the Merchant Marine for a young guy to enter as it grows harder and harder to last a full career.






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Right now I am watching the flooding behind the dam in Oroville, CA

To me it looks like the dam will eventually fail catastrophically.

Top men say everything is safe.

Top men. 



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Busy as hell on Day 91

Will post twice tomorrow or some damned thing


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(Day 90)

I sacked out on the couch last night for no real reason other than the fact that it was a change of pace. Oddly enough, I sleep as well there as I do in my bed.

The damned cat attacked my feet at some ungodly hour and I shook him off and I think he got flying lessons but I am not sure. Man nor beast gets a break if they attack me in my sleep.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Out the window I see the deer are in grey which is what they do this time of year. It is actually a whitish shade of grey. In a couple of months they will turn brown again.

I have a larger cast iron skillet that needs a re-seasoning so I used that for bacon this morning. The best thing you can do to a cast iron skillet is fry bacon.

%%%%%%%%%%%%

I hate snow.





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(Day 89) An ATNO confirmed.

I came home to three QSL cards, Kazakhstan, Grenada and Tidra Island, Mauritania. 

I already have Grenada and Kazakhstan.

Mauritania is an ATNO, an All Time New One. This brings my total up to over 210 different entities. The fact that they were on Tidra Island I suppose means something to Islands on the Air (IOTA) collectors.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

I came home last night to a wife that was warning me about a storm that was supposed to hit. I did what everyone else does. I bought some bread, milk and eggs so I can make French toast.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Yesterday I was on the Turnpike and the PA Turnpike people have a couple of billboards up advertising their rest areas. One is of a little kid with a BIG ice cream cone. The caption reads, 'Tantrum averted'. 

What a poor example for the state to put up on a billboard!

I am now seriously considering renting a billboard and setting up a picture of a kid getting a serious hickory shampoo and labeling that one 'Tantrum averted'. Maybe set up one of those Gofundme accounts or something.


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(Day 88) Thank you, President Putin. You're one of the good guys

I knew you'd never let Atlanta win.

Thank you, 

Piccolo




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(Day 87) What is a veteran?

Simpy put a veteran is someone that served in the armed forces for a period of time. They come in all shape and sizes.

Some of them enter as whiney little dweebs and leave the service as whiney little dweebs. Others enter as bullies and get cut down to size quickly. Yet others leave the service as positively changed people, a of more motivated and competent because of their service. 

Some served as actual fighters but most were not. It generally takes 7-10 people to keep one man in the field. Their jobs ranged from stateside clerks all the way over to special operations types and a lot in between.

I don't have a clue as to how many people it takes for the Air Force to keep one fighter plane up and running. I also don't have any idea how many people it takes in addition to the actual crew to keep a ship of any size afloat. 

Personally, I was lucky. I enlisted and picked up a combat arms MOS that was in short supply. I was trained as an artillery surveyor but spent time running an arms room and occasionally was detailed to run ad hoc rifle squads.

I was promoted ahead of schedule and got out as a Sp/5 after my 3 year hitch. The rank itself no longer exists. For all intents and purposes, I was a sergeant. In fact I never wore the Sp/5 device when I was promoted. I was ordered to wear sergeant stripes and was treated like one. I digress.

One thing that everyone that served was given was a fair chance to go as far as their drive and abilities would take them. The beauty of the services in my day is it was strictly a meritocracy.

When I served formal education was not scrutinized like it is today. I served under a First Sergeant with a grammar school education and a captain that had not finished his degree. He was taking night courses. He had been an enlisted man, learned to fly and had been promoted to a warrant officer upon earning his wings. He had later been promoted to the commissioned ranks based on his abilities.

My First Sergeant was another interesting person. He was quite a character and knew how to goet things done. He had little formal education and a huge amount of native wisdom.

I learned a lot in the service. When I briefly ran a small rifle squad it was my duty to see that I drew rations for them and various other supplies needed to run the show. 

Much of this was as informal as swinging my the chow hall and grabbing a couple cases of C-rations. Sometimes I would have to go to the training aids department and draw equipment there. I was responsible for issue and return of this stuff. It was my name on the reciept and I was expected to turn the stuff back in.

My battery commander, a non-college graduate captain, was responsible for the lives, comfort, safety, and utilization of about 160 men. It's a pretty heady responsibility for a guy still in his twenties.

While the lieutenants were responsible for the administration of the various platoons, it was the platoon sergeants that ran things on a day by day basis. Smart lieutenants worked closely with their platoon sergeants.

Next down the chain were the squad leaders and finally to the privates. Privates that showed promise and accepted responsibility didn't stay privates very long as a general rule.

The other services have and had somewhat different forms of organization but the principle was the same.

Most people left after their service changed people and if they didn't learn a lot of things about getting things done, they were most certainly exposed to these things.

Were all of the servicepeople good? Certainly not. Not all of them. There were duds in the service. It was really not a whole lot different than life in a well organized business. Still, there are and were a lot of things that even the duds learned. 

For one thing they learned to live with other people. The services are and always have been a hodgepodge of Americans of every kind. From city boys to country bumpkins, all races, all religions and of both sexes. 

Back when I served sometimes people would tell their career NCOs that there was no platoon of riflemen to lead back on the block. It's certainly true.

Still, a person that has led a platoon can take the same skills and use them in a later civilian occupation. Leadership skills are not generally job specific. A good platoon sergeant would probably make a pretty good floor boss. He knows people and he knows organization. These are important skills to have.

I recall a guy that was often looked up to by his co workers. From time to time during coffee breaks people would ask him for advice on raising their kids. He would offer it and more often than not it was good advice. He was respected for this by his co workers. His suggestions generally involved giving the kids more responsibilities and mor accountability.

One day over coffee someone asked him about his kids and he said that he didn't have any. Everyone looked a bit stunned. They expected him to be the father of a huge brood of kids.

He shrugged and explained that he had been an Army NCO and had run a platoon of combat engineers. When you consider that quite a number of his charges were still teenagers it makes sense that he knew young people.

Evidence of military service can even be seen in homeless shelters. Hand a homeless man a bunk and bedding and watch. If he whips up a neat bunk with hospital corners on the sheets in jig time and it's a pretty good bet the man was a serviceman at one time or another.

I won't say that hiring a vet is a guarentee of hiring a crackerjack employee. I will say that the odds of getting a crackerjack out of the veteran population are certainly a lot higher than finding one in the non veteran community.

For one thing proof of military service is proof positive that at one time the veteran moved out of his mom's basement. By enlisting he had written a check to the United States government payable up to and including his life.




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(Day 86) A while ago a friend of mine asked me for my first aid kit.

 I handed him a roll of duct tape.

When you think about it for a minute, a roll of duct tape is pretty much all anyone needs for the small stuff. That and maybe a box of Kleenex to sop up the blood.

Over the years I have had my fair share of small cuts, slices and knicks. I just make them bleed a bit to let blood wash the nasty stuff out and then bind it up with tape as best I can and inside a few days everything is pretty much back to normal.

One time Mrs. Pic got a pretty good slice in the kitchen. She told me and asked me to take a look at it and see if she needed stitches.

I glanced at it and then grabbed it and squeezed it a bit to make it bleed and offered to bind it up. I put a chunk of paper towel on it and went for the duct tape. 

She gave me 'the look' for a second and said nothing. She watched me pull the slice shut and tape it shut. It stopped bleeding and I told her she was good to go. She looked at it dubiously and went about her business. 

A few days later she pulled the tape off and reported that it was practically all healed. She was somewhat surprised.

I explained that the trick was go gather all the parts, clean them up, put them together and make them stay together. Then leave it alone until the miracle (healing) occurred.  That's about it. That's all it takes.




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(Day 85) One of the things I have noticed about a lot of people on the left is their propensity to use violence to get what they want.

Many of them have advocated murdering the present POTUS.

What they seem to forget that if it is OK for one side to be violent it is OK for the other side to respond in kind.

I wonder it these people know what they are talking about. Do they want a civil war? If they keep it up they will probably GET a civil war and it is not going to be very pretty. Civil wars can get rather sporty. I wonder how many of you have skills to live outside after your house gets burned to the ground.

I wonder what you are going to do when your friends and loved ones turn up dead, injured and missing. Remember, in war these things happen. Bombs, bullets and fire have no conscience. Of course, by then it will be too late.

Sarah Silverman asked for a military coup. What stupidity!

For one thing the troops already LOVE Trump after being in the back seat for the past 8 years. For another thing, James Mattis is a GOD to the troops. They will follow him anywhere.

For another thing, most veterans are conservative. The truth is the conservative kids have been bearing the brunt of our wars since the end of the draft. While many have been out of the service for decades, mast of them retain their skills to a certain extent.

The Left would most certainly come up short in training and skills if a civil war broke out.

Of course, the Sarah Silvermans of the world really don't plan on getting all dirty and bloody. They want to get other people to do their dirty work for them. Maybe get the uneducated minorities fired up with a bunch of false promises.

I was around in the 60s and saw that the left started catering to the Black and other minority communities by filling their heads full of false promises. The rich Sarah Silvermans would sit in their palaces on the other side of San Francisco Bay and watch as the blacks in the wrong side of town rioted and tore things up.

Is that your plan, Sarah? To sit there and watch others get chopped up while you sit idly by watching CNN? While you sit across the bay?

From The National Lampoon Radio Dinner album, 1972 



It's too bad the so-called minority organizers were not a bit brighter and could see through all of this bullshit and tell their people to let the limousine liberals do their own fighting.

Not too bright, Sarah. Hope you get a visit from the Secret Service.


Keep singing, Sarah.

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(Day 84) What a bunch of slobs!

I just heard where they have coughed up one and a half million bucks to clean up after the messes made by the Dakota pipeline protesters. I'm not surprised.

I saw the pictures of the mess the Earth Day people left in Washington DC, the mess made at Woodstock in '69 and the pig sty left behind by the women of the recent Woman's March in Washington DC.

ALL of these people have babbled about taking care of the earth, yet they have left an awful lot behind them. 

This is something I have noticed over the years that a lot of these so called friends of the planet don't really give a damn. The cause is simply something to prattle on about. If they did care they would leave the places they meet at nicer than they were when the showed up. Or at least in the same shape they found it.

I did notice that after the TEA party left Washington the place was in pretty good shape.

Yet you will never hear about it in the media, especially the media we have now. It would not fit their agenda.

A few years ago at Camp Perry I put the place on the air with my ham rig. I have gotten the OK from the CO, they had given me a little spot and I was on the air for about a week. A friend showed up and the last thing we did after the gear was packed up to go home we ran a police call and left the place in a little better condition than we found it in.

I'm not a hippie or a friend of the planet. I just don't like trashy areas. It didn't take much to police the area as I had used a trash bag for all of the waste I generated.

I remember the time I had my sailboat in port and some hippie chick came down oohing and ahhing about how my sailboat was so cool because it didn't pollute. She asked me if she could do me any favors. I asked her for a ride to the food store.

When we got to the parking lot she was driving a huge gas hog that burned oil at an alarming rate. You could follow the smoke trail all the way to the market. Typical hippie crap. Babble one thing and do another.

Still, I see all sorts of people babbling about saving the planet and all they do is run their mouths and leave the place dirtier. It appears to me that most of these people involved are simply looking for some kind of stylish cause to be seen supporting.




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(Day 83) An old Facebook post of mine

"When the sails filled, I took the tiller and looked ahead. After a few minutes I handed the tiller to my shipmate and told him I was headed below to think a minute.

I was 33 years old, had a high school diploma and a little college, I had skills, a willingness to work, no job and none in the offing. I had very little money, but enough grub to last a while and the tools to fish or hunt to supplement what I did have.

I was now responsible for the life of my shipmate. This didn’t tread lightly on me. I now had to think for the pair of us.

Everything I owned except for a fifteen year-old rusty pickup and a few tools was with me in the boat.

I was now literally the captain of my own ship and the master of my own destiny.

I had a ship to sail, and a star to steer her by. It felt good, but there was also the burden of responsibility, too. I also knew I had to get my skills honed as I lacked a lot of sailing skills and I knew that crossing the Gulf of Alaska meant a 600 mile open ocean crossing.

I came above and took the tiller and trimmed the main sail a tad and sailed for the next few hours, alone in my thoughts.

It was a day that left me a changed man. No one would know it but me, but for the first time in my life I felt fully in charge. I also had a sense of direction and a future to look forward to, no matter how it turned out."

Piccolo
Aboard S/Y Karen Lee
1985




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(Day 82) Very soon I will not be using surplus Itronix Gobook IIIs anymore.

A friend has hooked me up with a couple of Panasonic Toughbooks that are a lot newer. In addition to this another person gave me a fairly new Dell which is now my home unit.

I am going to designate a day to drag my old information over to the new machines. It will likely take a while because I will have to learn how to do this.

The old Gobook IIIs have been very good to me as they have been dragged all over hell and back and have taken quite a beating and still keep working. Still, old age is creeping up on them and they are getting tired. What is interesting is that they are still about as fast as my WiFi.

I once said that things have not gotten much faster since I was using Windows 95. It did just about everything for me that I do now. I still feel that chasing technology is a waste of time and money. I simply upgrade to newer technology because I am forced to.

I can not figure out why people will go out and spend a fortune for the latest and greatest simple to do email and surf the web. Why bother?

I think I'll grab one of the neighborhood kids to do this as they generally have far better computer skills than I do. I have a lot of stuff I want to transfer and save.

I am getting a lot more comfortable with my smartphone and Kindle which is mildly surprising. I have never been much of a techno geek. 





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(Day 81) I have never in my life ever seen such hysteria as I have in the past ten days since Donald Trump got sworn in.

I have already listened to women babble incoherently about how Donald Trump wants to grab their pussies. Most of these woman don't even have as good makin's as my friend Bob's Basset hound. It really isn't worth grabbing. What a joke!

Now the big thing is that he has halted immigration from seven countries for a period of ninety days. It's not permanent, people.

Ninety days is a reasonable suspension in order to enable the government to set up some sort of vetting process. Europe has none and the refugees there have pretty much torn up everything in sight. Paris is a mess right now. In Sweden the police advise women to stay inside after dark.

Trump is trying to prevent this from happening here.

Yet all the little snowflakes are in a real dither over this and are carrying on like he just opened a season on illegals with no closures or bag limits. You would think there are dead immigrants hanging from light poles.



He's trying to make America safer.

I lock my doors at night. I don't do this because I hate everyone outside my house. I do it because I love everyone inside my house. It's pretty much what Trump has done.

Like most of us, I don't let everyone and their cousin in my house. I check them out first. Fair enough.

Yet the precious little snowflakes have been listening to fake and slanted news and have decided to over react and carry on.

I read where some guy was at work and a woman came up to him and said she can't wait until Trump is impeached and replaces with Hillary. I do not think she ever took a course in government.

The guy says the woman broke out in tears when he exlained that if Trump WAS impeached and removed from office that he would be replaced by Mike Pence. That's why they have a vice-president. At that point she turned on the water works.

She's another ignorant special snowflake.

What I would like to know is how many people that are moaning, wailing and gnashing their teeth have even bothered to take a few minutes to read the Executive Order. It's not too hard to find, especially on line.

Then again, I guess Ron White called it when he said you can't fix stupid.

Incidentally, the countries on the list are the same countries that former Saint Obama suspended immigration from several years ago.

Speaking of Saint Obama, he ran his mouth today condemning Trump for basically the same thing several presidents have done since and including Jimmy Carter.

It's been only ten days and it seems Obama can't keep his piehole shut. He ought to because I'm sure it would not take a whole lot to sift through his presidency and find a few criminal acts and nail him. Same holds for Hillary.

Ever notice that since GW Bush left the White House he has kept his mouth shut? All the presidents have until Saint Obama decided he was going to sharpshoot Trump.

Incidentally I wish he WOULD let the AG go after Hillary. She belongs in jail.




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