is what I told someone that asked how we knew each other.
In a way that's true. We both went to grades 1-8 together and part of our high school freshmen year until he transferred to the local vocational school. Still we ran into each other regularly.
Of course the saying of going to different schools together is a Yogi Berra saying but it does hold a certain amount of water in this case.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this:
http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Thursday, April 30, 2020
Wednesday, April 29, 2020
Making chili
which is NOT some kind of gourmet meal like they seem to think it is in Texas and a few other places.
You do NOT chop or grind up Delmonico steaks to make chili. Nor is there a specific recipe unless you are making a batch for some dopey cook-off somewhere.
Chili is, was and ever shall be, world without end, amen a simple saddle tramp meal made out of what is on hand. The only real key ingredient in it is beef, and not top shelf beef, either. Generally the guys herding cattle on a drive. Usually they wound up using whatever hapless animal broke a leg by stepping into a gopher hole or was just plain gnarly and unmarketable, often an old steer.
You have to remember that the cows that the cowboys were driving were to be sold and they didn't want to eat the profits up along the way.
Generally today chili aficionados use hamburger meat to make chili but it was unavailable when I went shopping thanks to the food hoarders that have wiped out Walmart and the local supermarkets.
My wife told me that there's been a run on freezers because of this pandemic and I see that people are buying stuff to fill them.
Anyway I bought a couple of hefty sized packages of stew beef and sharpened up my knife and went to work cutting the chunks into pieces about half the size of my little toe which is about right.
Many years ago I was using stew beef and my wife asked me how big the pieces were that I was cutting. I told her they were about half the size of my little toe. She asked me why they were not the size of HER little toe and I said because I was the one doing the cooking. I remember this well because it was one of the first time I held my tongue.
My knee jerk reply was probably something like "Because I'm not a bigfoot." She isn't, either but an answer like that would probably get most of us into trouble because most women do not share the same sense of humor men do. As proof I use the Three Stooges or Groucho Marx which woman almost universally hate but I digress.
Anyway you brown the meat, fry up the onions and peppers, add tomatoes and put in enough beans to suit. You add the spices you want as you go along and then let the whole mess simmer for a while and you call it good.
You have to remember that this stuff is to be eaten as a basic meal. You don't have to turn it into some kind of fire if you don't want. I figure the banana peppers, a couple of envelopes of taco seasoning and a healthy dallop of Tabasco sauce is about enough but that's just my preference. I have pretty much a garbage gut to begin with. If you are one of those people that have a delicate digestive system it's OK to skip some of the seasoning. If you are a fire-eater have at it and load the thing up.
In this case I didn't have a skillet to make a batch of this size. I want to freeze most of it in sandwich sized Rubbermaid containers so I can thaw it out and eat it at my leisure. I don't want to eat chili day in and day out until it's gone. The containers are a pretty good sized unit for portion control.
What I did with this batch is brown the meat in the skillet and then dump it into the crock pot. I did the same with the onion and pepper mix which was pretty hefty. I had a humongous onion and a big handful of peppers to get rid of so according to the Official Saddle Tramp Recipe book I simply threw it all into the pot.
Page 14, Article 2, Amendment 8 subsection B, clause B-4 says specifically that it is an acceptable thing to do under the chapter for Chuck Wagon cooks. It says specifically 'In the event one has too much onion of too many peppers just throw the damned things into the wretched mess because most likely even the pickiest cowboy will be too tired to notice and even if he does he probably won't care'.
Anyway I got a few things to do and I can get a few things done so I figure I'll let the entire thing chug away in the crock pot for a while. After that I may even put it in the refrigerator overnight and reheat it in the morning because things like this are generally better after a night in the reefer and a reheat. Spaghetti sauce is like that. It's generally best at the second or third reheat.
Anyway, it's a simple meal for simple tastes.
I don't hide the fact that trying to impress me by taking me to a fancy place for dinner does not work. It is a waste of your time and money. I am not impressed. If you really want to impress me then take me to a good greasy spoon where I can check out the meat loaf.
On the other hand, I do like good hooch.
It looks like I'll dish this batch up and freeze it tomorrow. I've made enough mistakes today and it'll probably wind up being better if I do it that way.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
You do NOT chop or grind up Delmonico steaks to make chili. Nor is there a specific recipe unless you are making a batch for some dopey cook-off somewhere.
Chili is, was and ever shall be, world without end, amen a simple saddle tramp meal made out of what is on hand. The only real key ingredient in it is beef, and not top shelf beef, either. Generally the guys herding cattle on a drive. Usually they wound up using whatever hapless animal broke a leg by stepping into a gopher hole or was just plain gnarly and unmarketable, often an old steer.
You have to remember that the cows that the cowboys were driving were to be sold and they didn't want to eat the profits up along the way.
Generally today chili aficionados use hamburger meat to make chili but it was unavailable when I went shopping thanks to the food hoarders that have wiped out Walmart and the local supermarkets.
My wife told me that there's been a run on freezers because of this pandemic and I see that people are buying stuff to fill them.
Anyway I bought a couple of hefty sized packages of stew beef and sharpened up my knife and went to work cutting the chunks into pieces about half the size of my little toe which is about right.
Many years ago I was using stew beef and my wife asked me how big the pieces were that I was cutting. I told her they were about half the size of my little toe. She asked me why they were not the size of HER little toe and I said because I was the one doing the cooking. I remember this well because it was one of the first time I held my tongue.
My knee jerk reply was probably something like "Because I'm not a bigfoot." She isn't, either but an answer like that would probably get most of us into trouble because most women do not share the same sense of humor men do. As proof I use the Three Stooges or Groucho Marx which woman almost universally hate but I digress.
Anyway you brown the meat, fry up the onions and peppers, add tomatoes and put in enough beans to suit. You add the spices you want as you go along and then let the whole mess simmer for a while and you call it good.
You have to remember that this stuff is to be eaten as a basic meal. You don't have to turn it into some kind of fire if you don't want. I figure the banana peppers, a couple of envelopes of taco seasoning and a healthy dallop of Tabasco sauce is about enough but that's just my preference. I have pretty much a garbage gut to begin with. If you are one of those people that have a delicate digestive system it's OK to skip some of the seasoning. If you are a fire-eater have at it and load the thing up.
In this case I didn't have a skillet to make a batch of this size. I want to freeze most of it in sandwich sized Rubbermaid containers so I can thaw it out and eat it at my leisure. I don't want to eat chili day in and day out until it's gone. The containers are a pretty good sized unit for portion control.
What I did with this batch is brown the meat in the skillet and then dump it into the crock pot. I did the same with the onion and pepper mix which was pretty hefty. I had a humongous onion and a big handful of peppers to get rid of so according to the Official Saddle Tramp Recipe book I simply threw it all into the pot.
Page 14, Article 2, Amendment 8 subsection B, clause B-4 says specifically that it is an acceptable thing to do under the chapter for Chuck Wagon cooks. It says specifically 'In the event one has too much onion of too many peppers just throw the damned things into the wretched mess because most likely even the pickiest cowboy will be too tired to notice and even if he does he probably won't care'.
Anyway I got a few things to do and I can get a few things done so I figure I'll let the entire thing chug away in the crock pot for a while. After that I may even put it in the refrigerator overnight and reheat it in the morning because things like this are generally better after a night in the reefer and a reheat. Spaghetti sauce is like that. It's generally best at the second or third reheat.
Anyway, it's a simple meal for simple tastes.
I don't hide the fact that trying to impress me by taking me to a fancy place for dinner does not work. It is a waste of your time and money. I am not impressed. If you really want to impress me then take me to a good greasy spoon where I can check out the meat loaf.
On the other hand, I do like good hooch.
It looks like I'll dish this batch up and freeze it tomorrow. I've made enough mistakes today and it'll probably wind up being better if I do it that way.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Tuesday, April 28, 2020
I ordered something from a place the 5th of April
and it hasn't shown up yet.
It was a hat with a built in face shield and it was recommended by someone I know. They said it shipped pretty fast. It probably did.
My guess is that they had them in stock when my friend ordered it and they shipped it right out. Then they ran out of them in their stateside warehouse and decided to have the maker in China drop ship it from China.
First of all if I knew it was made in China I would not have bought it. Secondly they should have at least let me know they were going to do this and given me the opportunity to decide if I wanted to wait or just cancel the order.
But no. They has to be wise guys and grab the money when they could instead of letting me know what is going on.
The tracking number they gave me was from some Chinese based outfit and it says the package arrived in New York some time ago and was shipped to California. It is supposed to be handed off to the USPS and they say it hasn't arrived in their hands yet.
They think they are smart doing this but they really are not. Because of their lack of informing me as to what they had planned and letting me make my own decision I will never do business with them again.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
It was a hat with a built in face shield and it was recommended by someone I know. They said it shipped pretty fast. It probably did.
My guess is that they had them in stock when my friend ordered it and they shipped it right out. Then they ran out of them in their stateside warehouse and decided to have the maker in China drop ship it from China.
First of all if I knew it was made in China I would not have bought it. Secondly they should have at least let me know they were going to do this and given me the opportunity to decide if I wanted to wait or just cancel the order.
But no. They has to be wise guys and grab the money when they could instead of letting me know what is going on.
The tracking number they gave me was from some Chinese based outfit and it says the package arrived in New York some time ago and was shipped to California. It is supposed to be handed off to the USPS and they say it hasn't arrived in their hands yet.
They think they are smart doing this but they really are not. Because of their lack of informing me as to what they had planned and letting me make my own decision I will never do business with them again.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Monday, April 27, 2020
If you want to learn how to govern effectively
you might look at the history of a mob boss that died of old age.
When you think about it a mob boss actually manages to govern his mob at the will of his underlings. If they decide that he's not being fair to them they generally whack him. They don't play by the same rule book the rest of us play by.
You have to be pretty sharp to run a mob outfit and die of old age.
You have to run a successful outfit and make enough money to meet payroll every time. You have to take care of your people, and their families. The list a mob boss has to do to be successful is pretty much endless. On top of that they don't have a police force to back them up. In fact the police are out to get you.
When I look at government I often think it's too bad the rest of us don't play by the mob rule book. It would certainly change the attitude of Congress rather quickly.
When the penalty for failure is waking up in cement overshoes on a sea bottom one's attitude takes a pretty sharp turn.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
When you think about it a mob boss actually manages to govern his mob at the will of his underlings. If they decide that he's not being fair to them they generally whack him. They don't play by the same rule book the rest of us play by.
You have to be pretty sharp to run a mob outfit and die of old age.
You have to run a successful outfit and make enough money to meet payroll every time. You have to take care of your people, and their families. The list a mob boss has to do to be successful is pretty much endless. On top of that they don't have a police force to back them up. In fact the police are out to get you.
When I look at government I often think it's too bad the rest of us don't play by the mob rule book. It would certainly change the attitude of Congress rather quickly.
When the penalty for failure is waking up in cement overshoes on a sea bottom one's attitude takes a pretty sharp turn.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Sunday, April 26, 2020
Last night's ham net was a circus as to be expected
When I announced on a ham board that I was going to run an emergency communications drill and net using 30 watts and a wire in a tree a number of eyes rolled.
Net controls are generally run by the guy with the most powerful rig in the group. It's a world of tall towers, rotating Yagi beam antennas and 1.5 KW linear amplifiers.
It is definitely NOT a world of 30 watts and a wire thrown over a tree.
Of course when I announced this a number of the guys said, "Hold my beer. I'm running 20 watts and a wire in a tree. Betcha I can check in by hook or by crook!"
At least three of them did this successfully, one was running only 10 watts. I also had a brief chat with a guy well over 500 miles away that ran 20 watts and had a hasty antenna hanging from a tree or something.
We had almost 30 check-ins and had a great time.
Now I said I was net control and I was. How I managed that was that I would appoint alternates to help out and forward call signs and other pertinent information.
The guys are pretty sharp and enthusiastic and what seemed to be bedlam and chaos actually had a certain order to it.
Because I knew there were going to be several QRP stations trying to check in I started things a little differently.
Instead of reading the usual preamble and explaining what the net was all about, I just threw out my call sign and said, "Alms! Alms! Alms for the poor! All cripples, dwarfs, lepers and QRP stations please check in!"
And someone did and it grew from there.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Net controls are generally run by the guy with the most powerful rig in the group. It's a world of tall towers, rotating Yagi beam antennas and 1.5 KW linear amplifiers.
It is definitely NOT a world of 30 watts and a wire thrown over a tree.
Of course when I announced this a number of the guys said, "Hold my beer. I'm running 20 watts and a wire in a tree. Betcha I can check in by hook or by crook!"
At least three of them did this successfully, one was running only 10 watts. I also had a brief chat with a guy well over 500 miles away that ran 20 watts and had a hasty antenna hanging from a tree or something.
We had almost 30 check-ins and had a great time.
Now I said I was net control and I was. How I managed that was that I would appoint alternates to help out and forward call signs and other pertinent information.
The guys are pretty sharp and enthusiastic and what seemed to be bedlam and chaos actually had a certain order to it.
Because I knew there were going to be several QRP stations trying to check in I started things a little differently.
Instead of reading the usual preamble and explaining what the net was all about, I just threw out my call sign and said, "Alms! Alms! Alms for the poor! All cripples, dwarfs, lepers and QRP stations please check in!"
And someone did and it grew from there.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Saturday, April 25, 2020
I have not seen my old buddy the cop for a while.
The first time we met I was on the front lawn gardening and he had been sent to investigate a man reported to be giving children hard liquor. He was quite amused to find out the child in question had actually been seen drinking iced tea out of a Jim Beam bottle.
I use the Beam bottle to hold iced tea sometimes when I garden.
That was many moons ago.
I have run into him from time to time at various places. He's a pretty good cop and is still serving although he could have retired some time ago. He actually likes people and I would imagine since he became eligible for retirement he is more relaxed on the job.
This Corona virus situation has made a lot of us tend to avoid most human contact and it really sucks. I'd like to run into him again because he is a character. One time he witnessed some chaos at the coffee stand. The offended party that has actually started the ruckus looked to the cop for help and the officer simply replied, "I'm not getting in the middle of that!"
When things settled down a bit I quietly told him that it he got into a bind he could cuff me and stuff me and take me around the corner and drop me off if it would placate some idiot.
He chuckled when I said that.
He was in the convenience store when I wandered in cheerfully. A woman asked me why I was so cheerful and I told her "I just got outta the joint!"
I saw the cop out of the corner of my eye and he was quite amused. I also saw his eyes roll when the dumb woman asked me what I had done to be sent to prison. When I told her that some nosy woman had asked me too many nosy questions and I had stuck her in the ear with an ice pick, he looked quite amused and put his two cents worth in.
He told the woman he had been the arresting officer to the amusement of a number of clerks and locals.
That's the kind of guy you miss.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
I use the Beam bottle to hold iced tea sometimes when I garden.
That was many moons ago.
I have run into him from time to time at various places. He's a pretty good cop and is still serving although he could have retired some time ago. He actually likes people and I would imagine since he became eligible for retirement he is more relaxed on the job.
This Corona virus situation has made a lot of us tend to avoid most human contact and it really sucks. I'd like to run into him again because he is a character. One time he witnessed some chaos at the coffee stand. The offended party that has actually started the ruckus looked to the cop for help and the officer simply replied, "I'm not getting in the middle of that!"
When things settled down a bit I quietly told him that it he got into a bind he could cuff me and stuff me and take me around the corner and drop me off if it would placate some idiot.
He chuckled when I said that.
He was in the convenience store when I wandered in cheerfully. A woman asked me why I was so cheerful and I told her "I just got outta the joint!"
I saw the cop out of the corner of my eye and he was quite amused. I also saw his eyes roll when the dumb woman asked me what I had done to be sent to prison. When I told her that some nosy woman had asked me too many nosy questions and I had stuck her in the ear with an ice pick, he looked quite amused and put his two cents worth in.
He told the woman he had been the arresting officer to the amusement of a number of clerks and locals.
That's the kind of guy you miss.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Friday, April 24, 2020
What a pain in the neck!
Yesterday I grabbed a piece of wire to use as a 'wire in a tree' antenna for a PRC 320.
Strangely enough I got the perfect length that would not tune up an any ham band. It was a major exercise in frustration until I figured out what had probably happened. I was smart enough to give up after a while and I went into the junk box. I grabbed a female coax connector and soldered a pair of leads on it and plugged it into the '320. Then I plugged my long unused end fed antenna in and BINGO! I'm good to go.
Needless to say I picked a day with lousy propagation and the 40 meter band that I was planning on working was dead, dead, dead.
If at first you don't succeed... Finally I made a QSO. Interestingly enough, I got a 5x8 into Wisconsin.
I am supposed to run net control Saturday evening with the PRC 320 which would make and self-respecting ham cringe but that's part of the game.
I am going to run a relay net and specifically do NOT want to be able to talk to everyone. Many of us are breaking out QRP (reduced power) rigs and/or running portable where possible. It's kind of a Max Max scenario net.
From time to time I organize an emergency communications drill with a group of hams and I do try to make things challenging. There is generally a message that is sent out and requires a reply.
It drills don't usually last too long because the guys are getting pretty good at passing the word. I remember one of these where a guy in New Hampshire started by sending the first half of the message. I got it almost instantly because I heard it being repeated.
Inside of two or three minutes I had the reply also. The station that made the reply was in Hawaii!
Inside about 15 minutes all of the participants had the entire message including a couple of non hams that were listening o shortwave receivers.
That's not bad.
The best part of these is the first couple of minutes where everything is bedlam and chaos and inside a very short time a certain order emerges and the guys start slowing down and being a little more patient.
They go from a terribly disorganized rabble to a pretty professional net in just a few minutes. It's kind of cool to watch.
I have done this several times before and what I am seeing is the guys are experimenting a little. Some of them are intentionally handicapping themselves by running QRP rigs or experimental antennas and that sort of thing.
When I first started this everyone felt that if they didn't make personal contact with net control they were a failure when nothing could be further from the truth. It's all about sending and receiving a message.
You get credit for being a check in if twelve people route one's call sign through Outer Slobovia. It doesn't matter.
Of course if one does directly contact net control they are listed as both a bona fide QSO AND a check in.
It's great seeing the guys decide to take chances and run experimental stuff and it ought to be an interesting evening.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Strangely enough I got the perfect length that would not tune up an any ham band. It was a major exercise in frustration until I figured out what had probably happened. I was smart enough to give up after a while and I went into the junk box. I grabbed a female coax connector and soldered a pair of leads on it and plugged it into the '320. Then I plugged my long unused end fed antenna in and BINGO! I'm good to go.
Needless to say I picked a day with lousy propagation and the 40 meter band that I was planning on working was dead, dead, dead.
If at first you don't succeed... Finally I made a QSO. Interestingly enough, I got a 5x8 into Wisconsin.
I am supposed to run net control Saturday evening with the PRC 320 which would make and self-respecting ham cringe but that's part of the game.
I am going to run a relay net and specifically do NOT want to be able to talk to everyone. Many of us are breaking out QRP (reduced power) rigs and/or running portable where possible. It's kind of a Max Max scenario net.
From time to time I organize an emergency communications drill with a group of hams and I do try to make things challenging. There is generally a message that is sent out and requires a reply.
It drills don't usually last too long because the guys are getting pretty good at passing the word. I remember one of these where a guy in New Hampshire started by sending the first half of the message. I got it almost instantly because I heard it being repeated.
Inside of two or three minutes I had the reply also. The station that made the reply was in Hawaii!
Inside about 15 minutes all of the participants had the entire message including a couple of non hams that were listening o shortwave receivers.
That's not bad.
The best part of these is the first couple of minutes where everything is bedlam and chaos and inside a very short time a certain order emerges and the guys start slowing down and being a little more patient.
They go from a terribly disorganized rabble to a pretty professional net in just a few minutes. It's kind of cool to watch.
I have done this several times before and what I am seeing is the guys are experimenting a little. Some of them are intentionally handicapping themselves by running QRP rigs or experimental antennas and that sort of thing.
When I first started this everyone felt that if they didn't make personal contact with net control they were a failure when nothing could be further from the truth. It's all about sending and receiving a message.
You get credit for being a check in if twelve people route one's call sign through Outer Slobovia. It doesn't matter.
Of course if one does directly contact net control they are listed as both a bona fide QSO AND a check in.
It's great seeing the guys decide to take chances and run experimental stuff and it ought to be an interesting evening.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
I'm making a few extra bucks on the side during the Pandemic.
With the unavailability of N 95 masks I have been using a shemagh to cover my face. It's a trick I learned from a couple of GIs that served in either Afghanistan or Iraq.
You put it on and it gives a pretty good face covering and if you add a pair of sunglasses you are virtually unrecognizable although you can pull the hood part down and wear a hat with it. It still covers most of your face, including your mouth and nose. It's great for sticking up convenience stores and places like that. Too bad the liquor stores are not open because I could also snag a bottle or two on the way out in addition to the cash.
Actually the trick is to learn to apply Arabic eyes makeup and skip the sunglasses. I went the makeup route and after 26 consecutive stickups the cops are looking for an Arabic woman.
Hey, times are hard!
I would love to post this on the Next Door website but the idiotic Karens there would complain to the management and I'd get another time out.
Then again I imagine that at least one sharp woman there has enough of a sarcastic sense of humor to offer me a few makeup tips.
88888888888888888888888
In other gnus I was out driving today and saw some guy washing his car. I pulled up and told him that Governor Wolfe would be pretty angry with him for not wearing a mask while being outside.
He looked at me and instantly got pretty angry. Then he saw I had no mask on as I was in my pickup and asked me where MY mask was.
I looked at him and with a big grin said that I guess Governor Wolfe would probably be mad at both of is. My tone of voice just OOZED of sarcasm.
He asked me if I have been a wise ass for my whole life and I told him that figuring that I learned to talk semi coherently at about a year old that I have not been a smart ass my whole life, only the past 67 years.
Then he did something I do not think he has done in years. HE gave me a smart assed answer. He told me that if we both get thrown into jail he hoped his cell would be next to mine.
I drove off knowing I made his day a little better.
*************************
A younger co worker recently brought up the subject of tipping.
I looked at him and told him "Every time I get arrested I always tip the cop $3 if he hold the door and makes sure I don't hit my head on the car roof."
My shipmate piped up. "Three bucks sounds about right. That's what I always give him."
"Really?" asked the kid and when I heard that I knew we had him.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
You put it on and it gives a pretty good face covering and if you add a pair of sunglasses you are virtually unrecognizable although you can pull the hood part down and wear a hat with it. It still covers most of your face, including your mouth and nose. It's great for sticking up convenience stores and places like that. Too bad the liquor stores are not open because I could also snag a bottle or two on the way out in addition to the cash.
Actually the trick is to learn to apply Arabic eyes makeup and skip the sunglasses. I went the makeup route and after 26 consecutive stickups the cops are looking for an Arabic woman.
Hey, times are hard!
I would love to post this on the Next Door website but the idiotic Karens there would complain to the management and I'd get another time out.
Then again I imagine that at least one sharp woman there has enough of a sarcastic sense of humor to offer me a few makeup tips.
88888888888888888888888
In other gnus I was out driving today and saw some guy washing his car. I pulled up and told him that Governor Wolfe would be pretty angry with him for not wearing a mask while being outside.
He looked at me and instantly got pretty angry. Then he saw I had no mask on as I was in my pickup and asked me where MY mask was.
I looked at him and with a big grin said that I guess Governor Wolfe would probably be mad at both of is. My tone of voice just OOZED of sarcasm.
He asked me if I have been a wise ass for my whole life and I told him that figuring that I learned to talk semi coherently at about a year old that I have not been a smart ass my whole life, only the past 67 years.
Then he did something I do not think he has done in years. HE gave me a smart assed answer. He told me that if we both get thrown into jail he hoped his cell would be next to mine.
I drove off knowing I made his day a little better.
*************************
A younger co worker recently brought up the subject of tipping.
I looked at him and told him "Every time I get arrested I always tip the cop $3 if he hold the door and makes sure I don't hit my head on the car roof."
My shipmate piped up. "Three bucks sounds about right. That's what I always give him."
"Really?" asked the kid and when I heard that I knew we had him.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Thursday, April 23, 2020
Karens are doing a wonderful job of destroying a constitutional republic.
With apologies to all good women that happen to share the name 'Karen'.
Karens are nothing more than sheltered suburban women that have little true life experience and think with their emotions. They have no real practical sense of the world around them. They also don't understand the concept of liberty unless it is their liberty that is being discussed. Common sense is absolutely out of the question.
Let's look at a simple situation. Most house fires start in the kitchen. Install a fire extinguisher in the obscure corner of Karen's house and explain to her that it is a piece of emergency gear that can save the entire house or even her life and plan on having to remove it. The protest of said fire extinguisher will be the usual reasoning.
"But it's ugly!"
I'll digress here. Once I had a girlfriend that threw out my beloved flight jacket. When I went looking for it she told me it was ugly so she threw it in the dumpster.
I threw her over my shoulder and took her up to the end of the pier and said, "You're ugly, too." and threw her in the dumpster and said I wasn't letting her out until she gave me my jacket.
She threw it out of the dumpster and I put it on and walked away.
I guess that ended that.
She did take the issue to the bar and attempt to have me tried by the court of public opinion but that proved to be another fail. She lost by about a 2/3s majority.
Of course there is always the 1/3 that sides with the woman no matter what. That is to be expected.
What stunned me is that a small handful of women thought I should have beaten her senseless and left her face down on the pier. Still, the general consensus among the womanfolk is that I had acted appropriately.
One of them was shocked when she was told about it. She replied "You threw his TRADEMARK jacket in the dumpster? He LOVES that jacket! You're lucky he didn't kill you!"
Needless to say she tried defending herself. "But it's ugly!"
She didn't get far. "Maybe he thought YOU were ugly so he threw you in the dumpster!" the woman shot back.
Anyway that's a big part of Karens. In their never ending battle to make ugliness go away they are destroying the very heart and soul of the bill of rights.
They want safety. They want security and they lack the confidence and are either too lazy or stupid to do the work required to achieve any. They are willing to throw the entire Bill of Rights down the crapper to achieve the false sense of security that it will give them.
They demand gun free zones and safe spaces for their children and unwittingly set their kids up to be put at the mercy of whatever whack job decides that he is going to ignore their meaningless signs.
Actually what they have done is create an excellent undefended kill zone for any lunatic that wants to take advantage of it.
When you ask a Karen who supplies her security you will get a confused deer in the headlights look and she will tell you that the police supply her security. Explain to her that when seconds count the police are minutes away and she gets confused.
She is convinced that the police will come to the rescue. What she doesn't realize that the only group that seems to show up in the nick of time (and ONLY in the nick of time) is the US Cavalry. Never in the history of the American motion picture industry has the US Cavalry ever showed up too late.
Of course this isn't a movie. She doesn't realize that the police really don't prevent a lot of crime. They simply pick up the pieces.
Karen simply refuses to take responsibility for herself and her brood. She passes the responsibility off to others, mainly government agencies of one sort or the other. To her a gun is like a fire extinguisher. It's ugly.
They scream for an assault on our rights to free speech because they think some speech is ugly yet seem to forget that they are not the ugly police. Of course they hide this under the guise of calling it 'Hate Speech'. It's not their place to judge what speech is ugly and what isn't. They seem to forget that to a lot of us the ugliest speech in the world is someone advocating that We, the People give up our rights. Yet that kind of hate speech pours from their mouths.
Karen only thinks about herself.
On the next door website I saw a group of Karens wanting to outlaw on-street parking in the township. The problem they said was they have to maneuver. This entails turning a steering wheel a few degrees and maybe slowing down a bit.
They fail to consider that in the general neighborhood the driveways for the most part hold two cars for the two car family. They forget that older children come home from college and need a place to park. Life isn't magic. You can't fit three or four cars in a two car driveway and you can't make them magically disappear.
Of course, some neighborhoods park on the street intentionally just to make people like Karen slow down a bit. The same Karen that will screech about someone driving too fast on HER street will carelessly thunder down SOMEONE ELSE'S. No wonder people park on street to slow the Karens of the world down.
Needless to say the Karens have already successfully gotten parking on one's lawn outlawed. I suppose that in time Karen will have to deal with her brood parking on the street and when they get ticketed she will be the first to run down to the police station and want to talk to the chief. After all, the rules she wants to put on the restof us don't apply to her...or so she thinks.
After all, Karen ALWAYS wants to talk to the manager if she doesn't get her way. If the item on sale is sold out because she waited until the last day of the sale then Karen want's to know why. Some stock clerk or cashier isn't going to give her satisfaction and she know that. She wants to speak to the manager. (Then there is Super Karen. She wants to speak to the district manager.)
Needless to say, the manager is probably going to tell her what the stock boy told her. The item in question sold out halfway through the second day of the three day sale. It had been advertised that sales were limited to what was in stock and no rain checks.
Karen will also hold up the line to argue with a cashier over taking an expired coupon. If you are behind her grab a snack. You're going to be there a while. Karen is also the one that will stand in a long line and when she gets to the front of it will then start trying to figure out what she wants. Again, you're going to be a while.
For Karen it's all about Karen. It would be a damned shame if she had to, say slow down a bit and turn a steering wheel a couple of degrees.
There really is a solution of sorts here. Simply sound off. Don't be afraid to speak up and say, "Hey, Karen! We ain't got all day!"
I have and it works. You embarrass the hell out of these people every chance you get. Tell them to get a life.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Karens are nothing more than sheltered suburban women that have little true life experience and think with their emotions. They have no real practical sense of the world around them. They also don't understand the concept of liberty unless it is their liberty that is being discussed. Common sense is absolutely out of the question.
Let's look at a simple situation. Most house fires start in the kitchen. Install a fire extinguisher in the obscure corner of Karen's house and explain to her that it is a piece of emergency gear that can save the entire house or even her life and plan on having to remove it. The protest of said fire extinguisher will be the usual reasoning.
"But it's ugly!"
I'll digress here. Once I had a girlfriend that threw out my beloved flight jacket. When I went looking for it she told me it was ugly so she threw it in the dumpster.
I threw her over my shoulder and took her up to the end of the pier and said, "You're ugly, too." and threw her in the dumpster and said I wasn't letting her out until she gave me my jacket.
She threw it out of the dumpster and I put it on and walked away.
I guess that ended that.
She did take the issue to the bar and attempt to have me tried by the court of public opinion but that proved to be another fail. She lost by about a 2/3s majority.
Of course there is always the 1/3 that sides with the woman no matter what. That is to be expected.
What stunned me is that a small handful of women thought I should have beaten her senseless and left her face down on the pier. Still, the general consensus among the womanfolk is that I had acted appropriately.
One of them was shocked when she was told about it. She replied "You threw his TRADEMARK jacket in the dumpster? He LOVES that jacket! You're lucky he didn't kill you!"
Needless to say she tried defending herself. "But it's ugly!"
She didn't get far. "Maybe he thought YOU were ugly so he threw you in the dumpster!" the woman shot back.
Anyway that's a big part of Karens. In their never ending battle to make ugliness go away they are destroying the very heart and soul of the bill of rights.
They want safety. They want security and they lack the confidence and are either too lazy or stupid to do the work required to achieve any. They are willing to throw the entire Bill of Rights down the crapper to achieve the false sense of security that it will give them.
They demand gun free zones and safe spaces for their children and unwittingly set their kids up to be put at the mercy of whatever whack job decides that he is going to ignore their meaningless signs.
Actually what they have done is create an excellent undefended kill zone for any lunatic that wants to take advantage of it.
When you ask a Karen who supplies her security you will get a confused deer in the headlights look and she will tell you that the police supply her security. Explain to her that when seconds count the police are minutes away and she gets confused.
She is convinced that the police will come to the rescue. What she doesn't realize that the only group that seems to show up in the nick of time (and ONLY in the nick of time) is the US Cavalry. Never in the history of the American motion picture industry has the US Cavalry ever showed up too late.
Of course this isn't a movie. She doesn't realize that the police really don't prevent a lot of crime. They simply pick up the pieces.
Karen simply refuses to take responsibility for herself and her brood. She passes the responsibility off to others, mainly government agencies of one sort or the other. To her a gun is like a fire extinguisher. It's ugly.
They scream for an assault on our rights to free speech because they think some speech is ugly yet seem to forget that they are not the ugly police. Of course they hide this under the guise of calling it 'Hate Speech'. It's not their place to judge what speech is ugly and what isn't. They seem to forget that to a lot of us the ugliest speech in the world is someone advocating that We, the People give up our rights. Yet that kind of hate speech pours from their mouths.
Karen only thinks about herself.
On the next door website I saw a group of Karens wanting to outlaw on-street parking in the township. The problem they said was they have to maneuver. This entails turning a steering wheel a few degrees and maybe slowing down a bit.
They fail to consider that in the general neighborhood the driveways for the most part hold two cars for the two car family. They forget that older children come home from college and need a place to park. Life isn't magic. You can't fit three or four cars in a two car driveway and you can't make them magically disappear.
Of course, some neighborhoods park on the street intentionally just to make people like Karen slow down a bit. The same Karen that will screech about someone driving too fast on HER street will carelessly thunder down SOMEONE ELSE'S. No wonder people park on street to slow the Karens of the world down.
Needless to say the Karens have already successfully gotten parking on one's lawn outlawed. I suppose that in time Karen will have to deal with her brood parking on the street and when they get ticketed she will be the first to run down to the police station and want to talk to the chief. After all, the rules she wants to put on the restof us don't apply to her...or so she thinks.
After all, Karen ALWAYS wants to talk to the manager if she doesn't get her way. If the item on sale is sold out because she waited until the last day of the sale then Karen want's to know why. Some stock clerk or cashier isn't going to give her satisfaction and she know that. She wants to speak to the manager. (Then there is Super Karen. She wants to speak to the district manager.)
Needless to say, the manager is probably going to tell her what the stock boy told her. The item in question sold out halfway through the second day of the three day sale. It had been advertised that sales were limited to what was in stock and no rain checks.
Karen will also hold up the line to argue with a cashier over taking an expired coupon. If you are behind her grab a snack. You're going to be there a while. Karen is also the one that will stand in a long line and when she gets to the front of it will then start trying to figure out what she wants. Again, you're going to be a while.
For Karen it's all about Karen. It would be a damned shame if she had to, say slow down a bit and turn a steering wheel a couple of degrees.
There really is a solution of sorts here. Simply sound off. Don't be afraid to speak up and say, "Hey, Karen! We ain't got all day!"
I have and it works. You embarrass the hell out of these people every chance you get. Tell them to get a life.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Wednesday, April 22, 2020
Ahh, yes. How do these people manage to social distance?
Ever since the COVID pandemic started up I have wondered how things were going to go for certain people in the business of human contact of any sort.
There are businesses out there that rely on being able to touch and feel other human beings. The medical field is the big one that comes to mind. There are also hair cutters, nail people, legitimate massage people and others.
I have seen the medical people rush to utilize various pieces of PPE to protect themselves. I have over time seen manicurists wearing face masks while they work on fingernails. I suppose when thing change and we restart businesses we will see barbers wearing masks, too.
Still, there are a few trades out there where PPE against COVID is really not much of an option.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Tuesday, April 21, 2020
Tyranny.
the longer I live the more tyranny I see.
When I see that the people that write and enact out laws are exempt from them that's tyranny. The first thing that comes to mind here is the fact that congress critters are exempt from insider trading laws. They can make fortunes investing in companies that get government contracts but if I find out about what companies Congress is giving a contract to and invest I go to jail. Ask Martha Stewart about that one.
Congress should be made to obey the laws they put on the rest of us. It's that simple.
We have drunk driving laws here and there are a few people that think it's stupid. Actually it really isn't. There are victims of drunk drivers. They kill people and damage property. I don't want to get into the argument with those that say it is OK to drive drunk.
For sake of argument it isn't OK to drive when someone is incapacitated. The key to this is driving drunk and on a public thoroughfare.
Yet some poor bastard got a DUI for mowing his front lawn on a sit down mower. Another sad sack got popped for being responsible and sacking out on the back seat of his car. That's not liberty or justice. That's tyranny.
Laws are not supposed to generate revenue. Fines are supposed to punish honest anti social behavior.
As I sit here in the middle of a pandemic I can certainly understand that government is trying to protect us from the idiots out there that don't know any better and think it is all about them. I am not going to speak about shutting things down at all. What I am going to do is look at things from the proper perspective. Before you can outlaw a behavior it has to be dangerous.
There is nothing whatsoever dangerous about attending a drive in religious service where you sit there listening to the service electronically in your automobile with the windows rolled up. There is no danger at all to society. The participants have been issued $500 tickets. That's tyranny.
One state had forbidden its residents to go fishing. Fishing is generally a solo sport and takes a person outdoors where they will do themselves more good than hanging around inside. There is no way a person can spread or contract the disease while alone and fishing. Yet a governor had banned it. That's tyranny.
People in some places are being hassled for walking their dogs in suburban settings while creating no danger of spreading the disease. That's tyranny.
I won't even get into the tyranny taking place in Virginia over the Second Amendment. I see us sliding into a bad place in our history...and fast.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
When I see that the people that write and enact out laws are exempt from them that's tyranny. The first thing that comes to mind here is the fact that congress critters are exempt from insider trading laws. They can make fortunes investing in companies that get government contracts but if I find out about what companies Congress is giving a contract to and invest I go to jail. Ask Martha Stewart about that one.
Congress should be made to obey the laws they put on the rest of us. It's that simple.
We have drunk driving laws here and there are a few people that think it's stupid. Actually it really isn't. There are victims of drunk drivers. They kill people and damage property. I don't want to get into the argument with those that say it is OK to drive drunk.
For sake of argument it isn't OK to drive when someone is incapacitated. The key to this is driving drunk and on a public thoroughfare.
Yet some poor bastard got a DUI for mowing his front lawn on a sit down mower. Another sad sack got popped for being responsible and sacking out on the back seat of his car. That's not liberty or justice. That's tyranny.
Laws are not supposed to generate revenue. Fines are supposed to punish honest anti social behavior.
As I sit here in the middle of a pandemic I can certainly understand that government is trying to protect us from the idiots out there that don't know any better and think it is all about them. I am not going to speak about shutting things down at all. What I am going to do is look at things from the proper perspective. Before you can outlaw a behavior it has to be dangerous.
There is nothing whatsoever dangerous about attending a drive in religious service where you sit there listening to the service electronically in your automobile with the windows rolled up. There is no danger at all to society. The participants have been issued $500 tickets. That's tyranny.
One state had forbidden its residents to go fishing. Fishing is generally a solo sport and takes a person outdoors where they will do themselves more good than hanging around inside. There is no way a person can spread or contract the disease while alone and fishing. Yet a governor had banned it. That's tyranny.
People in some places are being hassled for walking their dogs in suburban settings while creating no danger of spreading the disease. That's tyranny.
I won't even get into the tyranny taking place in Virginia over the Second Amendment. I see us sliding into a bad place in our history...and fast.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Back when I was a kid living at home what was fun was
to teach very small children very big words.
There is nothing funnier than a toddler under the age of two that can say words like deoxyribonucleic acid or chrono synclastic infindibulation.
I remember doing this to a friends kid brother when he was small. It was hilarious watching the little guy's parents wonder where he heard it and how he was able to repeat it. His big brother and I worked with this kid for some time teaching him big words.
Actually the results of this were pretty good. It was very entertaining watching his mother tell her husband to watch his language because it was a sure thing the kid would pick up an profanity he used.
Of course the first thing we thought of when he heard his mother say that to her husband was that we should turn the little precocious boy into a foul mouthed sailor but we didn't because his father would be blamed and he was a really cool guy.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
There is nothing funnier than a toddler under the age of two that can say words like deoxyribonucleic acid or chrono synclastic infindibulation.
I remember doing this to a friends kid brother when he was small. It was hilarious watching the little guy's parents wonder where he heard it and how he was able to repeat it. His big brother and I worked with this kid for some time teaching him big words.
Actually the results of this were pretty good. It was very entertaining watching his mother tell her husband to watch his language because it was a sure thing the kid would pick up an profanity he used.
Of course the first thing we thought of when he heard his mother say that to her husband was that we should turn the little precocious boy into a foul mouthed sailor but we didn't because his father would be blamed and he was a really cool guy.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
I now wear a shemagh around town because it works.
With the Chinese virus still running around and the supply chain of N 95 masks not particularly reliable yet I figure it's time to take a trip from the troops.
Before the outbreak back in January I had one of the recent returnees from Afghanistan show me how to put on a shemagh and I picked a couple of them up on eBay. They work and it is easy to breathe through them.
I have a couple of them, three actually. A black and white one, a desert colored one and for the hell of it I bought one in fuchsia and black.
I'll leave the fuchsia one at home for a while because I have plans for that one. I'm going to get a certain lady I know to give me an Arabic eyes makeup job before I wear it when I start sticking up convenience stores. That way the cops will be looking for a woman.
Hey, times are hard. I can use a few extra bucks.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Before the outbreak back in January I had one of the recent returnees from Afghanistan show me how to put on a shemagh and I picked a couple of them up on eBay. They work and it is easy to breathe through them.
I have a couple of them, three actually. A black and white one, a desert colored one and for the hell of it I bought one in fuchsia and black.
I'll leave the fuchsia one at home for a while because I have plans for that one. I'm going to get a certain lady I know to give me an Arabic eyes makeup job before I wear it when I start sticking up convenience stores. That way the cops will be looking for a woman.
Hey, times are hard. I can use a few extra bucks.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Sunday, April 19, 2020
There are AA batteries, AAA batteries, C-cells and D-cells
I just heard someone ask why there are no B-cells. Did the battery companies skip B-cells for some reason?
The reason you don't see them anymore is because they are not needed anymore. They were designed to provide higher voltage for portable radios to run the vacuum tubes.
My mother had a 40s portable radio, a Zenith and it was normally used plugged into the wall. However I remember a couple of times when I was little she would put batteries in it and take it to the beach with us. I remember her putting a couple of large batteries in it that she called 'B batteries'. They were expensive then and didn't last very long. She wanted to listen to something important when we went to the beach. I don't remember what but I do remember that when we got home she carefully removed the batteries and carefully stored them somewhere.
Of course they have not made B batteries in decades but they did.
The event of the transistor radio brought it to a halt.
And now you know about B batteries.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
The reason you don't see them anymore is because they are not needed anymore. They were designed to provide higher voltage for portable radios to run the vacuum tubes.
My mother had a 40s portable radio, a Zenith and it was normally used plugged into the wall. However I remember a couple of times when I was little she would put batteries in it and take it to the beach with us. I remember her putting a couple of large batteries in it that she called 'B batteries'. They were expensive then and didn't last very long. She wanted to listen to something important when we went to the beach. I don't remember what but I do remember that when we got home she carefully removed the batteries and carefully stored them somewhere.
Of course they have not made B batteries in decades but they did.
The event of the transistor radio brought it to a halt.
And now you know about B batteries.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Saturday, April 18, 2020
The dream came back and I managed to win.
I have had this recurring dream for years where somehow I save New York. How I save the city I never seem to know, but my pickup gets destroyed in the process.
Of course the mayor wants a big photo op and a big to-do.
I just want my pickup replaced. Just like the one that got destroyed.
Now my pickup is a 4 cylinder manual transmission basic model. It has roll up windows. I bought it that way because I like things that way. I like simple machinery.
I want my damned truck replaced and that is all I want. Just my damned 4 cylinder manual transmission small pickup.
Well, I am up on stage surrounded my the media as the mayor gives me the key to the city and they unveil this $125,000 behemoth.
I take one look at it and say in front of God and everybody, "I don't want that damned thing. I just want my little pickup replaced with what I had."
The mayor looks stunned and I blow up again. "I told you specifically I didn't want some monster truck. I can't afford to run it, insure it or keep it in repairs. I'm a simple fuckin' sailor and I am what I am. Keep that stupid behemoth. I'll walk home."
The mayor loses it and calls me an ingrate.
I shot back "If you had any understanding or any compassion at all for the basic working stiff you wouldn't be trying to palm off a white elephant like that on him. Some of us live responsibly."
With that I walk off and out the door.
Now it is an election year and his opponent chases me down and tells me to call a certain member of his staff which I do. We meet the following day and I describe my old truck to him and he takes careful notes.
Then my mouth runs away with me and I tell him about my favorite truck. The one I had in the good old days.
It's about a month later and two weeks before the election when I get a call and I show up at the proper time and place.
The press is there and I have to listen to a bunch of bull$hit about this and that and what a great guy I am and finally they unveil the truck. I am stunned and tears run down my face.
It's a faded powder blue '62 Dodge step side with a slant six, a four speed manual transmission, a bench seat with a manual choke, and a throttle cable. There is a heater but no radio and a gun rack in the rear window. It has been totally rebuilt by some custom shop and is in brand new condition except it doesn't have the new car smell. It has the vague smell like someone spilled a beer in it about a week ago.
I pull the seat forward and there is a brand new sleeping bag folded in behind the seat. Then I look at the floor and see the mats are simply pieces of an old conveyor belt. I peel one up and lo and behold, there are holes carefully placed there suitable for dropping beer cans out. Instead of rust creating the holes they have obviously been carefully placed there by a craftsman.
Now the candidate is smiling big time because he knows he just belted one out of the park. He turns to me and confesses "I don't even know how to start this thing!"
I laugh and hop in and leave the door open so he can watch. I stamp on the gas pedal three times, pull the choke out all the way and turn the key. "Wagh wagh wagh VROOM!" says the truck as it lights off. It's running a little rough. I push the choke in about halfway and explain that it has to warm up a bit before I can take off. It smooths out as I slide the choke in halfway.
A few minutes later the temperature needle lifts off the peg. The choke goes in all the way. I take the candidate around the block and drop him off after giving him my thanks.
An hour or so later I am out of New York on an Interstate headed west. I pull out the throttle and listen to that Slant Six hum and smile all the way home. I am more than quite content.
While I do not drink and drive anymore I make an exception. I pull off the highway and buy a single beer and get back in the road again. I sip the beer and enjoy myself. When the beer is empty I reach down, lift the mat and drop the empty out onto the pavement where it rattles and bangs around. It came out from between the rear wheels of the pickup and any cop behind me just know I couldn't have thrown it out the window. The can just HAD to have either been on the road or been thrown out by the driver of the car ahead of me and been caught in his slipstream.
As I am enjoying myself watching the can rattle around through the rear view mirror I ask myself how many people are going to call me an idiot for not accepting the enormous behemoth and I laugh like hell. They don't have a clue. I am a simple man that likes simple things.
Maybe this will be the end of the recurring dream because this time I came out a BIG winner.
A month later on the news I hear where the candidate that gave me the truck won in a landslide.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Of course the mayor wants a big photo op and a big to-do.
I just want my pickup replaced. Just like the one that got destroyed.
Now my pickup is a 4 cylinder manual transmission basic model. It has roll up windows. I bought it that way because I like things that way. I like simple machinery.
I want my damned truck replaced and that is all I want. Just my damned 4 cylinder manual transmission small pickup.
Well, I am up on stage surrounded my the media as the mayor gives me the key to the city and they unveil this $125,000 behemoth.
I take one look at it and say in front of God and everybody, "I don't want that damned thing. I just want my little pickup replaced with what I had."
The mayor looks stunned and I blow up again. "I told you specifically I didn't want some monster truck. I can't afford to run it, insure it or keep it in repairs. I'm a simple fuckin' sailor and I am what I am. Keep that stupid behemoth. I'll walk home."
The mayor loses it and calls me an ingrate.
I shot back "If you had any understanding or any compassion at all for the basic working stiff you wouldn't be trying to palm off a white elephant like that on him. Some of us live responsibly."
With that I walk off and out the door.
Now it is an election year and his opponent chases me down and tells me to call a certain member of his staff which I do. We meet the following day and I describe my old truck to him and he takes careful notes.
Then my mouth runs away with me and I tell him about my favorite truck. The one I had in the good old days.
It's about a month later and two weeks before the election when I get a call and I show up at the proper time and place.
The press is there and I have to listen to a bunch of bull$hit about this and that and what a great guy I am and finally they unveil the truck. I am stunned and tears run down my face.
It's a faded powder blue '62 Dodge step side with a slant six, a four speed manual transmission, a bench seat with a manual choke, and a throttle cable. There is a heater but no radio and a gun rack in the rear window. It has been totally rebuilt by some custom shop and is in brand new condition except it doesn't have the new car smell. It has the vague smell like someone spilled a beer in it about a week ago.
I pull the seat forward and there is a brand new sleeping bag folded in behind the seat. Then I look at the floor and see the mats are simply pieces of an old conveyor belt. I peel one up and lo and behold, there are holes carefully placed there suitable for dropping beer cans out. Instead of rust creating the holes they have obviously been carefully placed there by a craftsman.
Now the candidate is smiling big time because he knows he just belted one out of the park. He turns to me and confesses "I don't even know how to start this thing!"
I laugh and hop in and leave the door open so he can watch. I stamp on the gas pedal three times, pull the choke out all the way and turn the key. "Wagh wagh wagh VROOM!" says the truck as it lights off. It's running a little rough. I push the choke in about halfway and explain that it has to warm up a bit before I can take off. It smooths out as I slide the choke in halfway.
A few minutes later the temperature needle lifts off the peg. The choke goes in all the way. I take the candidate around the block and drop him off after giving him my thanks.
An hour or so later I am out of New York on an Interstate headed west. I pull out the throttle and listen to that Slant Six hum and smile all the way home. I am more than quite content.
While I do not drink and drive anymore I make an exception. I pull off the highway and buy a single beer and get back in the road again. I sip the beer and enjoy myself. When the beer is empty I reach down, lift the mat and drop the empty out onto the pavement where it rattles and bangs around. It came out from between the rear wheels of the pickup and any cop behind me just know I couldn't have thrown it out the window. The can just HAD to have either been on the road or been thrown out by the driver of the car ahead of me and been caught in his slipstream.
As I am enjoying myself watching the can rattle around through the rear view mirror I ask myself how many people are going to call me an idiot for not accepting the enormous behemoth and I laugh like hell. They don't have a clue. I am a simple man that likes simple things.
Maybe this will be the end of the recurring dream because this time I came out a BIG winner.
A month later on the news I hear where the candidate that gave me the truck won in a landslide.
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Friday, April 17, 2020
But...but you didn't wash your hands!
Washing hands is useful to stop the spread of disease I will be the first to say it IF you know what you are doing.
An awful lot of idiots don't have a clue about what they are doing and why.
For sake of argument let's say your home is a sterile area and before you walk in you take a bath in bleach water. Now YOU are clean and preserve the integrity of the sterile area in your home.
Now there is no real reason to run around washing your hands every two minutes unless you are preparing food or have just used the toilet.
I posted this because I think it's kind of funny watching people that never leave the house running around screaming about making sure everyone washes their hands every thirty seconds.
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An awful lot of idiots don't have a clue about what they are doing and why.
For sake of argument let's say your home is a sterile area and before you walk in you take a bath in bleach water. Now YOU are clean and preserve the integrity of the sterile area in your home.
Now there is no real reason to run around washing your hands every two minutes unless you are preparing food or have just used the toilet.
I posted this because I think it's kind of funny watching people that never leave the house running around screaming about making sure everyone washes their hands every thirty seconds.
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Thursday, April 16, 2020
Kinda busy today even though I'm home
I have to go out for the first time in days and help somebody move something which will actually be a joy as I have been cooped up for too long.
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Wednesday, April 15, 2020
Here ya go
Inspected by #87
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Tuesday, April 14, 2020
What do you call the person that graduated from medical school at the bottom of his class?
You call him 'Doctor'.
Same holds true for the guy that barely passed his captain's license test. You call him 'Captain'.
I actually did quite well on my tests. I had to take a whole battery of tests and passed all of them with flying colors but because I never took a wheelhouse job and seldom used the license I am probably not particularly ready to run a tug. A ship is positively out of the question.
I would be comfortable running a 30 foot sailboat, though.
Still, the grades one gets on tests are no guarantee on how a person will produce. General U.S.Grant was a middle of the road student at West Point. He did quite well in the Civil War.
The only thing when all is said and done is how someone produces on the job.
I work in an odd industry. I have seen King's Point Merchant Marine Academy grads replaced by high school dropouts and vice versa. It's all about the ability to do the job.
I mentioned this at a gathering of some sort and some woman (it's generally women that are astonished to hear things like this) said that replacing a college grad with a high school dropout was a foolish thing for a company to do.
"Not if the college grad's nickname is 'Captain Crunch'," I shot back. "The man has done over a million dollars in damages to several docks."
Of course she didn't understand but some people fail to understand much of life to begin with.
Of course in certain segments of the business world a degree is required as sort of an entry fee. That's a given. But when you think about it if a person with or without a degree gets in the door somehow and produces they will likely be promoted.
Success gets a lot of other things overlooked.
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Same holds true for the guy that barely passed his captain's license test. You call him 'Captain'.
I actually did quite well on my tests. I had to take a whole battery of tests and passed all of them with flying colors but because I never took a wheelhouse job and seldom used the license I am probably not particularly ready to run a tug. A ship is positively out of the question.
I would be comfortable running a 30 foot sailboat, though.
Still, the grades one gets on tests are no guarantee on how a person will produce. General U.S.Grant was a middle of the road student at West Point. He did quite well in the Civil War.
The only thing when all is said and done is how someone produces on the job.
I work in an odd industry. I have seen King's Point Merchant Marine Academy grads replaced by high school dropouts and vice versa. It's all about the ability to do the job.
I mentioned this at a gathering of some sort and some woman (it's generally women that are astonished to hear things like this) said that replacing a college grad with a high school dropout was a foolish thing for a company to do.
"Not if the college grad's nickname is 'Captain Crunch'," I shot back. "The man has done over a million dollars in damages to several docks."
Of course she didn't understand but some people fail to understand much of life to begin with.
Of course in certain segments of the business world a degree is required as sort of an entry fee. That's a given. But when you think about it if a person with or without a degree gets in the door somehow and produces they will likely be promoted.
Success gets a lot of other things overlooked.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Things with batteries in them are a pain in the ass.
because when you need them the batteries have gone bad.
My significant other asked me to look at the pair of family thermometers and they are battery powered. It seldom gets used and when it does the battery is either dead or dying. It sits in the closet for years at a time so it's understandable.
Still, I wish I could find an Old School mercury thermometer that doesn't use batteries.
Of course if I put word out everyone and their cousin would start babbling "You have to hold those old thermometers under your tongue for three minutes!"
So?
At least you wouldn't have to drive halfway across town to buy a new battery when you needed to take your temperature.
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My significant other asked me to look at the pair of family thermometers and they are battery powered. It seldom gets used and when it does the battery is either dead or dying. It sits in the closet for years at a time so it's understandable.
Still, I wish I could find an Old School mercury thermometer that doesn't use batteries.
Of course if I put word out everyone and their cousin would start babbling "You have to hold those old thermometers under your tongue for three minutes!"
So?
At least you wouldn't have to drive halfway across town to buy a new battery when you needed to take your temperature.
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Monday, April 13, 2020
The checks come out on the 8th.
Any of you hams out there may or may not know about a program called Netlogger. It's for people that run nets. I believe it was developed by OMISS, one of the WAS nets but I could be wrong. Anyway it's free and I decided to learn to use it.
The best way to learn something is simply by doing it and making mistakes and learning from them so I simply created a net.
It had to have a name so I figured Rumor Control was as good as any other name. I typed it in, set up Netlogger and went on the air.
It was slow and I only got a few hits which is to be expected and it was running along well until someone asked what the rumor was.
A sharp operator standing by chimed in with "Checks come out on the 8th." so that was the rumor of the day.
Of course someone wanted to know WHAT checks were coming out on the 8th and of course we didn't know. All we said was that checks come out on the 8th.
Someone else pointed out that it was already the 12th. His voice let me know he saw the humor of the rumor. Of course someone else didn't get it and seemed confused until someone else explained that it was only a rumor and therefore not confirmed. Besides you can't believe rumors.
Meanwhile I was trying to figure out a few things about Netlogger and managed to stumble around looking for the Not So Instant IM button. I looked all over hell and found it was the huge big blue button in the middle of the display which is par golf for me.
Still, all in all I learned a few things and now have a pretty good idea on how to use the new tool and had a little fun spreading the word that checks come out on the 8th.
That's a pretty good rumor to get going around.
It's true, too because someone's checks just HAVE to come out on the 8th. It may be the payroll for Joe's Plumbing in Milwaukee or the Sheik of Araby's bribes in Sukhran but someone's checks come out on the 8th of something.
So the rumor is true. The checks come out on the 8th.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
The best way to learn something is simply by doing it and making mistakes and learning from them so I simply created a net.
It had to have a name so I figured Rumor Control was as good as any other name. I typed it in, set up Netlogger and went on the air.
It was slow and I only got a few hits which is to be expected and it was running along well until someone asked what the rumor was.
A sharp operator standing by chimed in with "Checks come out on the 8th." so that was the rumor of the day.
Of course someone wanted to know WHAT checks were coming out on the 8th and of course we didn't know. All we said was that checks come out on the 8th.
Someone else pointed out that it was already the 12th. His voice let me know he saw the humor of the rumor. Of course someone else didn't get it and seemed confused until someone else explained that it was only a rumor and therefore not confirmed. Besides you can't believe rumors.
Meanwhile I was trying to figure out a few things about Netlogger and managed to stumble around looking for the Not So Instant IM button. I looked all over hell and found it was the huge big blue button in the middle of the display which is par golf for me.
Still, all in all I learned a few things and now have a pretty good idea on how to use the new tool and had a little fun spreading the word that checks come out on the 8th.
That's a pretty good rumor to get going around.
It's true, too because someone's checks just HAVE to come out on the 8th. It may be the payroll for Joe's Plumbing in Milwaukee or the Sheik of Araby's bribes in Sukhran but someone's checks come out on the 8th of something.
So the rumor is true. The checks come out on the 8th.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Sunday, April 12, 2020
I see where some governor declared that if people attended a drive in
Easter service than their licence numbers would be taken down and the owners criminally prosecuted.
I am accepting the rules regarding quarantine to a great extent. I do believe that it saves lives and would conduct myself the same way if it was even a government suggestion or recommendation.
I can actually understand why the governors really want people to skip their Easter services. COVID-19 can easily be spread in churches as well as anywhere else. I'll give the governors the benefit of the doubt to a certain extent. More on this later.
OK, that clown that has threatened to prosecute those that attend a drive in service is simply being either blatantly anti religion, power hungry or just plain stupid. Either way the people of that state do not want to have him as governor.
There is no way a group of people in their automobiles at a drive in religious service poses any kind of a danger to anybody. None. In fact it strikes me as a pretty safe place to be. Outlawing a gathering like that is plain wrong and I doubt SCOTUS would support such a thing for a New York minute.
I have no problems with the people of that state simply physically removing him from office, taking him to the nearest tree and hanging him as a warning to others that things only go so far.
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I am accepting the rules regarding quarantine to a great extent. I do believe that it saves lives and would conduct myself the same way if it was even a government suggestion or recommendation.
I can actually understand why the governors really want people to skip their Easter services. COVID-19 can easily be spread in churches as well as anywhere else. I'll give the governors the benefit of the doubt to a certain extent. More on this later.
OK, that clown that has threatened to prosecute those that attend a drive in service is simply being either blatantly anti religion, power hungry or just plain stupid. Either way the people of that state do not want to have him as governor.
There is no way a group of people in their automobiles at a drive in religious service poses any kind of a danger to anybody. None. In fact it strikes me as a pretty safe place to be. Outlawing a gathering like that is plain wrong and I doubt SCOTUS would support such a thing for a New York minute.
I have no problems with the people of that state simply physically removing him from office, taking him to the nearest tree and hanging him as a warning to others that things only go so far.
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I have finally bothered to sit down and figure out
how to tie a military shamagh which is now a useful skill.
It wasn't here in the States until the Corona virus popped up but now it is. While probably not as good as an N 95 mask it's certainly a step in the right direction.
I just ordered one off of eBay for short money shipped. It was about $7 which if it is any good will be a halfway decent deal.
Actually I think the pair of Old School French Foreign Legion desert scarfs will actually be a little more useful because they have a tighter weave and will likely filter things better but we'll see.
I DO know how to use a Foreign Legion scarf. I think it may be a little better than a shamagh as the weave is tighter.
It's kind of funny how dopey little skills like that eventually come in handy.
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It wasn't here in the States until the Corona virus popped up but now it is. While probably not as good as an N 95 mask it's certainly a step in the right direction.
I just ordered one off of eBay for short money shipped. It was about $7 which if it is any good will be a halfway decent deal.
Actually I think the pair of Old School French Foreign Legion desert scarfs will actually be a little more useful because they have a tighter weave and will likely filter things better but we'll see.
I DO know how to use a Foreign Legion scarf. I think it may be a little better than a shamagh as the weave is tighter.
It's kind of funny how dopey little skills like that eventually come in handy.
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Saturday, April 11, 2020
Being holed up sucks.
It really isn't very much fun and it's really not good for someone to be holed up like this.
It's really a drag.
I have however set things up so I don't have to do a whole lot of cooking because I made a a bucket of chili, mac and cheese with ham, butchered a humongous ham. Tomorrow I roast a big turkey and cut that up and bag it in portions and freeze that, too.
The freezer is crammed full of individual meal sized portions of chow to keep me fed for a month.
Being stuck like this makes slipping into the bottle damned easy so it's time to realize that and avoid it. It is a real temptation but I guess I'll manage to avoid it. Once you sit down and realize it and give it some thought it's a lot easier to avoid the temptation.
I am loading up on Vitamin C to keep up my resistance to disease and alcohol in quantity lowers it so it's a smart play to avoid heavy drinking.
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It's really a drag.
I have however set things up so I don't have to do a whole lot of cooking because I made a a bucket of chili, mac and cheese with ham, butchered a humongous ham. Tomorrow I roast a big turkey and cut that up and bag it in portions and freeze that, too.
The freezer is crammed full of individual meal sized portions of chow to keep me fed for a month.
Being stuck like this makes slipping into the bottle damned easy so it's time to realize that and avoid it. It is a real temptation but I guess I'll manage to avoid it. Once you sit down and realize it and give it some thought it's a lot easier to avoid the temptation.
I am loading up on Vitamin C to keep up my resistance to disease and alcohol in quantity lowers it so it's a smart play to avoid heavy drinking.
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Friday, April 10, 2020
One of the satisfying things about being a ham operator was
after the hurricane that clouted Puerto Rico a small group of hams flew in there and set up a few message centers and set up field operations.
Basically some of them worked about 20+hours a day, lived in ditches, smelled like goats and ate what they could scrape up. They were not paid a dime for doing this.
I intercepted a couple of these and called the person's home to tell them that their loved ones were OK. What is interesting to note is that a couple of these were relayed to me from France and Cuba. I got three directly from Puerto Rico. Fortunately all five had good news. The loved ones were alive, uninjured and safe. I was also given their telephone contact information which was sent 'in the clear' which is pretty risky.
Two of the people were leery when I called them and probably rightfully so in this day and age. Scammers abound and they prey on people that are emotional basket cases as were most people that had loved ones in PR during the hurricane. A simple shortwave receiver would have been all it took to get the phone number of a concerned relative.
Actually the Frenchman was pretty sharp. He said he'd go to my QRZ page, get my email and send me the entire message. Just because the infrastructure of Puerto Rico was down didn't mean the rest of the planet was down. In a few minutes I had the message on my email. It was a lot more secure that way.
Both of these were easily dealt with. I gave them my FCC call sign and told them to Google it. One wanted to know what the cost was and I explained it was free because that's what ham radio operators do in time of emergency. There was no charge. I also explained that anything they sent me would be returned.
They were elated to get the good news. They wondered when they were going to be able to come home. I didn't know and said so. I also told them I had heard rumors that people were being allowed to fly back to the states in empty C-130s but I could not confirm it. I told them it may be some time before they could return.
Of course every one I spoke with asked me if I was in direct contact with their loved ones and I explained I wasn't. Four of them accepted that when I explained how the system worked. A couple of them were amazed.
Two took me at face value when I called and were immediately overjoyed. One commented that he had heard of people getting messages from ham radio operators in the movies but didn't think it happened in real life.
Of course there is always one.
The first thing she wanted to know is if she could talk to her daughter. I said it was impossible and suggested she listen to my explanation because it would save time. I could tell by her voice I was going to have to deal with an idiot.
"The minute the trees stopped falling some plumber from Milwaukee, Wisconsin loaded his portable ham radio gear into his truck and drove at his own cost to Dover, Delaware and somehow got the Air Force to stuff him into a C-130 full of relief supplies and take him to Puerto Rico. Upon arrival he got out of San Juan and God only knows how he managed to get to Arecibo and set up a small message center under a surviving tree. He probably hasn't eaten in two days, works 20+ hours a day, sleeps in a ditch next to his radio and is forwarding messages to the States," I started. Of course I had no clue as to who the operator in Puerto Rico was. All I really knew is he was some guy on the air in Arecibo. I said the plumber from Milwaukee business to make a point.
"I didn't get to speak to him directly. Another ham in Cuba did and forwarded the message Stateside and I got it. I am forwarding the message to you. Your loved ones are safe and will be coming home as soon as they can."
Of course she said she didn't understand why she couldn't speak directly to her daughter and wanted me to get word back to her. I told her it was impossible.
Even if I could make contact with the poor overloaded ham in Arecibo there was no way in hell I was going to ask him to drop what he was doing and run all over hell to find someone's kid. He had better things to do.
Needless to say it wasn't good enough for her. She started asking too many questions I could not answer and got angry when answers were not forthcoming. Why don't you know? Why are you telling me this? You're not from the government. What kind of a shoddy organization was I running?
It was about then my luck changed. I heard a male voice in the background.
"Is the girl all right? What's going on? Give me that damned thing!"
A second or two a male came on the phone. His voice sounded calm and grateful. "Would you please tell me who you are and what is going on?
"Oh, thank God. An adult," I said. "First things first. I got word your daughter is safe and will be coming home on the first available transportation."
"And you are?" he asked. His voice was a sound of a relieved man.
"Let me explain things. It will save a lot of time that way and I'll answer questions afterwards. Is that OK?" He said it was.
"I am a ham radio operator. My call sign is KB3XXX. If you want you can look it up on Google. The minute the last tree fell in Puerto Rico the Air Force flew a group of hams into PR to aid in communications. One guy lit out for Arecibo the minute the plane hit the tarmac and set up a small communications center there where he most likely hasn't eaten in two days, works 20+ hours a day and sleeps in a ditch next to his radio," I said.
"My guess is your daughter found him and had him send word she was OK. I did not speak directly to the guy in Arecibo. His message was picked up by a Cuban ham who relayed it to me and I then called you," I finished.
"Cuba?!" He sounded astonished.
"Yes, Cuba. A well kept secret is that a lot of Cuban hams do a lot of relief work in the Caribbean. Look up one Arnie Coro, CO2KK. He is a very active ham there. Our governments may not get along but hams are hams and we do what we do. There is no reason to think the message is bogus. You can reasonably assume your daughter is fine and being taken care of."
I heard something in the background "Why couldn't he just..."
I imagine she got a damned serious stare from her husband.
"Things in PR are pretty primitive," I said. "The operator is likely swamped. Do not look at this as some magic bustling commo center run by the government. It is anything but. Think of it as somewhat of a jungle telegraph. As for return flights I have no idea. Rumor Control has it that the Air Force is letting people fly back on empty C-130s but that is unconfirmed. She'll probably have to get to San Juan or wherever to do this if she even can catch a C-130. Again, it's an unconfirmed rumor. Incidentally there's no telling where she is going to land when she gets Stateside. She may very well arrive with only the clothes on her back. If she has no ID or credit cards it's going to be rough for her. You may very well have to make arrangements to get her home. I do know you can send her money via Western Union and or Moneygram. Maybe they can release it on something like a password. That's all I can help you with. All I can say is she's safe for now. That's as good as it gets."
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"Do nothing. If you send me anything it will cost me return postage because I will return it. If you feel you have to do anything then send a donation to your local Amateur radio club."
"Thank you," he said. The voice carried a lot of gratitude.
I was glad the husband had stepped up to the plate because I was just getting ready to go off on the woman. I was fully expecting her to tell me she wanted to speak to the manager or something like that. I was really ready to go off like a skyrocket and tell her I was the boss and it would not have been very pretty but I imagine it would have been funny when I told her I was the manager and OWNER of station KB3XXX.
Still, it does make me feel pretty good that I got on the air and was able to help a few people out.
I suppose four out of five ain't bad.
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Basically some of them worked about 20+hours a day, lived in ditches, smelled like goats and ate what they could scrape up. They were not paid a dime for doing this.
I intercepted a couple of these and called the person's home to tell them that their loved ones were OK. What is interesting to note is that a couple of these were relayed to me from France and Cuba. I got three directly from Puerto Rico. Fortunately all five had good news. The loved ones were alive, uninjured and safe. I was also given their telephone contact information which was sent 'in the clear' which is pretty risky.
Two of the people were leery when I called them and probably rightfully so in this day and age. Scammers abound and they prey on people that are emotional basket cases as were most people that had loved ones in PR during the hurricane. A simple shortwave receiver would have been all it took to get the phone number of a concerned relative.
Actually the Frenchman was pretty sharp. He said he'd go to my QRZ page, get my email and send me the entire message. Just because the infrastructure of Puerto Rico was down didn't mean the rest of the planet was down. In a few minutes I had the message on my email. It was a lot more secure that way.
Both of these were easily dealt with. I gave them my FCC call sign and told them to Google it. One wanted to know what the cost was and I explained it was free because that's what ham radio operators do in time of emergency. There was no charge. I also explained that anything they sent me would be returned.
They were elated to get the good news. They wondered when they were going to be able to come home. I didn't know and said so. I also told them I had heard rumors that people were being allowed to fly back to the states in empty C-130s but I could not confirm it. I told them it may be some time before they could return.
Of course every one I spoke with asked me if I was in direct contact with their loved ones and I explained I wasn't. Four of them accepted that when I explained how the system worked. A couple of them were amazed.
Two took me at face value when I called and were immediately overjoyed. One commented that he had heard of people getting messages from ham radio operators in the movies but didn't think it happened in real life.
Of course there is always one.
The first thing she wanted to know is if she could talk to her daughter. I said it was impossible and suggested she listen to my explanation because it would save time. I could tell by her voice I was going to have to deal with an idiot.
"The minute the trees stopped falling some plumber from Milwaukee, Wisconsin loaded his portable ham radio gear into his truck and drove at his own cost to Dover, Delaware and somehow got the Air Force to stuff him into a C-130 full of relief supplies and take him to Puerto Rico. Upon arrival he got out of San Juan and God only knows how he managed to get to Arecibo and set up a small message center under a surviving tree. He probably hasn't eaten in two days, works 20+ hours a day, sleeps in a ditch next to his radio and is forwarding messages to the States," I started. Of course I had no clue as to who the operator in Puerto Rico was. All I really knew is he was some guy on the air in Arecibo. I said the plumber from Milwaukee business to make a point.
"I didn't get to speak to him directly. Another ham in Cuba did and forwarded the message Stateside and I got it. I am forwarding the message to you. Your loved ones are safe and will be coming home as soon as they can."
Of course she said she didn't understand why she couldn't speak directly to her daughter and wanted me to get word back to her. I told her it was impossible.
Even if I could make contact with the poor overloaded ham in Arecibo there was no way in hell I was going to ask him to drop what he was doing and run all over hell to find someone's kid. He had better things to do.
Needless to say it wasn't good enough for her. She started asking too many questions I could not answer and got angry when answers were not forthcoming. Why don't you know? Why are you telling me this? You're not from the government. What kind of a shoddy organization was I running?
It was about then my luck changed. I heard a male voice in the background.
"Is the girl all right? What's going on? Give me that damned thing!"
A second or two a male came on the phone. His voice sounded calm and grateful. "Would you please tell me who you are and what is going on?
"Oh, thank God. An adult," I said. "First things first. I got word your daughter is safe and will be coming home on the first available transportation."
"And you are?" he asked. His voice was a sound of a relieved man.
"Let me explain things. It will save a lot of time that way and I'll answer questions afterwards. Is that OK?" He said it was.
"I am a ham radio operator. My call sign is KB3XXX. If you want you can look it up on Google. The minute the last tree fell in Puerto Rico the Air Force flew a group of hams into PR to aid in communications. One guy lit out for Arecibo the minute the plane hit the tarmac and set up a small communications center there where he most likely hasn't eaten in two days, works 20+ hours a day and sleeps in a ditch next to his radio," I said.
"My guess is your daughter found him and had him send word she was OK. I did not speak directly to the guy in Arecibo. His message was picked up by a Cuban ham who relayed it to me and I then called you," I finished.
"Cuba?!" He sounded astonished.
"Yes, Cuba. A well kept secret is that a lot of Cuban hams do a lot of relief work in the Caribbean. Look up one Arnie Coro, CO2KK. He is a very active ham there. Our governments may not get along but hams are hams and we do what we do. There is no reason to think the message is bogus. You can reasonably assume your daughter is fine and being taken care of."
I heard something in the background "Why couldn't he just..."
I imagine she got a damned serious stare from her husband.
"Things in PR are pretty primitive," I said. "The operator is likely swamped. Do not look at this as some magic bustling commo center run by the government. It is anything but. Think of it as somewhat of a jungle telegraph. As for return flights I have no idea. Rumor Control has it that the Air Force is letting people fly back on empty C-130s but that is unconfirmed. She'll probably have to get to San Juan or wherever to do this if she even can catch a C-130. Again, it's an unconfirmed rumor. Incidentally there's no telling where she is going to land when she gets Stateside. She may very well arrive with only the clothes on her back. If she has no ID or credit cards it's going to be rough for her. You may very well have to make arrangements to get her home. I do know you can send her money via Western Union and or Moneygram. Maybe they can release it on something like a password. That's all I can help you with. All I can say is she's safe for now. That's as good as it gets."
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"Do nothing. If you send me anything it will cost me return postage because I will return it. If you feel you have to do anything then send a donation to your local Amateur radio club."
"Thank you," he said. The voice carried a lot of gratitude.
I was glad the husband had stepped up to the plate because I was just getting ready to go off on the woman. I was fully expecting her to tell me she wanted to speak to the manager or something like that. I was really ready to go off like a skyrocket and tell her I was the boss and it would not have been very pretty but I imagine it would have been funny when I told her I was the manager and OWNER of station KB3XXX.
Still, it does make me feel pretty good that I got on the air and was able to help a few people out.
I suppose four out of five ain't bad.
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Thursday, April 9, 2020
Someone was asking me about a purchase I made on line
and they wanted to know if the shipping was fast.
He looked rather confused when I remarked that my item arrived three days before I even ordered it.
Now any of you people that actually read this blog know that a remark like that means the shipping is very fast. However this person didn't seem to get it.
"How could that possibly be?" he asked.
"Simple," I replied. "Back when Rocky and Bullwinkle went off the air they scammed Hanna and Barbera out of the Wayback machine. Just recently they opened a shipping company called 'Get it before you order it'. The shipping costs for this are reasonably inexpensive and some on line merchants are starting to do this."
"How did you find out about this?" he asked.
"The Tooth Fairy told me," I replied.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
He looked rather confused when I remarked that my item arrived three days before I even ordered it.
Now any of you people that actually read this blog know that a remark like that means the shipping is very fast. However this person didn't seem to get it.
"How could that possibly be?" he asked.
"Simple," I replied. "Back when Rocky and Bullwinkle went off the air they scammed Hanna and Barbera out of the Wayback machine. Just recently they opened a shipping company called 'Get it before you order it'. The shipping costs for this are reasonably inexpensive and some on line merchants are starting to do this."
"How did you find out about this?" he asked.
"The Tooth Fairy told me," I replied.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Tuesday, April 7, 2020
You're going to piss someone off
said someone to me a while back.
"Yeah? So?" I replied. "Stop and take a look at WHO I am pissing off."
She stopped cold, sat there and thought about it a few seconds and replied, "Excellent point."
Truth is there are a lot of people out there that should have people pissing them off.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
More BS from the press.
As a general rule when Trump says something he has done his homework.
Trump commented that he saw gas selling for 91 cents a gallon and some idiot reported called him a liar and claimed the national average was about $1.97. The reporter is both a moron and a liar by deception.
While the national average may very well be $1.97 that is because the states tax the hell out of gasoline at various rates. Published gas prices include all taxes.
Anyway, there are now some states where gasoline is well under a buck a gallon and I'm sure that when Trump spoke someone was selling it at 91 cents.
While we are on the subject of gasoline prices the reason there are such cheap prices is that the Saudis have overproduced and dropped the price to about twenty bucks a barrel. As I type this the storage tanks are full, full, full. The companies have taken to hiring tankers to be used as storage space. It's insane.
I read our domestic producers need to see about $60/barrel to be able to continue to wrestle it out of the ground in order to make any money at all. Sounds reasonable.
The Saudis dropped the price to try and collapse the American domestic oil industry.
Now when Joe Citizen goes to the pump and sees gas at a buck a gallon he grins like a Cheshire cat. What he doesn't know or may not even care about is the domestic oil industry is taking a BIG hit.
He doesn't care about anything but his here and now wallet. He can't even picture life a week down the road.
It never occurs to him that down the road the Saudis will jack the price back up when the American oil producers cease operations and he will be at their mercy.
Before you start bitching about the 25 cent a gallon gas you used to get back in the day take a minute to remember that back then you grossed about $50 a week.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Trump commented that he saw gas selling for 91 cents a gallon and some idiot reported called him a liar and claimed the national average was about $1.97. The reporter is both a moron and a liar by deception.
While the national average may very well be $1.97 that is because the states tax the hell out of gasoline at various rates. Published gas prices include all taxes.
Anyway, there are now some states where gasoline is well under a buck a gallon and I'm sure that when Trump spoke someone was selling it at 91 cents.
While we are on the subject of gasoline prices the reason there are such cheap prices is that the Saudis have overproduced and dropped the price to about twenty bucks a barrel. As I type this the storage tanks are full, full, full. The companies have taken to hiring tankers to be used as storage space. It's insane.
I read our domestic producers need to see about $60/barrel to be able to continue to wrestle it out of the ground in order to make any money at all. Sounds reasonable.
The Saudis dropped the price to try and collapse the American domestic oil industry.
Now when Joe Citizen goes to the pump and sees gas at a buck a gallon he grins like a Cheshire cat. What he doesn't know or may not even care about is the domestic oil industry is taking a BIG hit.
He doesn't care about anything but his here and now wallet. He can't even picture life a week down the road.
It never occurs to him that down the road the Saudis will jack the price back up when the American oil producers cease operations and he will be at their mercy.
Before you start bitching about the 25 cent a gallon gas you used to get back in the day take a minute to remember that back then you grossed about $50 a week.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Monday, April 6, 2020
"When you have nineteen children," I said.
Actually the thread started when a woman griped about a couple of teenagers standing on her doorstep. It did sound a little sketchy and someone did suggest calling the police which makes sense.
Someone else suggested answering the door with a shotgun and with that I couldn't resist.
"A shotgun only says you want to kill them. WHat you need is a Kukri. A Kukri says not only are you going to kill them but you are going to hack them up and throw them into the family stew pot," I replied.
Some Karen went off like a skyrocket babbling incoherently about the evils of cannibalism.
"Hey," I shot back. "I got a big family to support. You have to cut a few corners here and there. Every little bit helps."
Followed by more semi coherent babbling from Karen. "The police ought to get a search warrant and dig up your back yard!" is the gist of her babbling.
"They will find nothing. I give the bones to the neighborhood dogs. That's why I get along with them. Of course if they do decide to dig up my yard I hope they do it soon and save me the work. It's getting time to start my annual marijuana crop." I answered.
"What? You grow marijuana?!" She screeched.
"Yeah. I make a few bucks and so do the kids when they sell it at school. You have to do all you can to make a buck when you have nineteen kids," I said.
"What?! What?!How can you possibly have nineteen children?!" asked Karen the soccer mom.
"Back when you were a little girl didn't your mother ever have a little talk with you and tell you where babies come from?" I answered.
"I know where babies come from,"she shot back.
"Then why did you ask?" I answered.
"I'm going to tell the police about you!" she screamed.
"Don't bother. They read all of these internet boards and when you report it they will say, 'Oh. You're the moron that believes everything she reads and they will have a huge laugh about it at your expense!"
I'm sure she did and I'm sure they did.
And another Karen bites the dust.
I think she reported this to the mods and they had to do something. I got the boot for a couple of days.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Someone else suggested answering the door with a shotgun and with that I couldn't resist.
"A shotgun only says you want to kill them. WHat you need is a Kukri. A Kukri says not only are you going to kill them but you are going to hack them up and throw them into the family stew pot," I replied.
Some Karen went off like a skyrocket babbling incoherently about the evils of cannibalism.
"Hey," I shot back. "I got a big family to support. You have to cut a few corners here and there. Every little bit helps."
Followed by more semi coherent babbling from Karen. "The police ought to get a search warrant and dig up your back yard!" is the gist of her babbling.
"They will find nothing. I give the bones to the neighborhood dogs. That's why I get along with them. Of course if they do decide to dig up my yard I hope they do it soon and save me the work. It's getting time to start my annual marijuana crop." I answered.
"What? You grow marijuana?!" She screeched.
"Yeah. I make a few bucks and so do the kids when they sell it at school. You have to do all you can to make a buck when you have nineteen kids," I said.
"What?! What?!How can you possibly have nineteen children?!" asked Karen the soccer mom.
"Back when you were a little girl didn't your mother ever have a little talk with you and tell you where babies come from?" I answered.
"I know where babies come from,"she shot back.
"Then why did you ask?" I answered.
"I'm going to tell the police about you!" she screamed.
"Don't bother. They read all of these internet boards and when you report it they will say, 'Oh. You're the moron that believes everything she reads and they will have a huge laugh about it at your expense!"
I'm sure she did and I'm sure they did.
And another Karen bites the dust.
I think she reported this to the mods and they had to do something. I got the boot for a couple of days.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Sunday, April 5, 2020
The older I get the more I realize that there are a lot of people that
don't deserve the blessings of liberty.
Some people should just plain be shot.
There is some idiot in (IIRC) Kentucky that's pissed off because he has to wear a GPS for 14 days unit after being decreed COVID-19 positive and he refused to self quarantine. He was babbling about his rights.
Well, SURPRISE! What about the rights of the rest of us that don't want to pick up whatever crud he has.
Thomas Jefferson had the attitude "If to doesn't break my leg or pick my pocket." Fair enough.
I would consider that knowingly exposing the people around him to a particularly vile disease is about the same as breaking a man's leg. Maybe even worse. It could kill him.
Liberty works best when you have good, moral people. We have seen it eroding because of bad immoral people abusing their rights.
As far as the guy that's griping about being forced into quarantine goes, he thinks he can do what he wants. If that's so, then someone else can do what they want.
BANG! Thud. One in the X-ring. Call the coroner.
I bet the DA would not want me on the jury if a he decided to prosecute someone like the shooter for murder if he pleaded self defense.
He'd walk. Or at the very least I'd hang the jury.
There is a law in Texas that says that an affirmative defense for murder is 'the man just needed killing'. The defendant has to prove to twelve tried and true Texans that Texas was better off without him.
Something like that should not be a very hard sell.
People seem to forget that although liberty is a wonderful thing it requires personal responsibility.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Some people should just plain be shot.
There is some idiot in (IIRC) Kentucky that's pissed off because he has to wear a GPS for 14 days unit after being decreed COVID-19 positive and he refused to self quarantine. He was babbling about his rights.
Well, SURPRISE! What about the rights of the rest of us that don't want to pick up whatever crud he has.
Thomas Jefferson had the attitude "If to doesn't break my leg or pick my pocket." Fair enough.
I would consider that knowingly exposing the people around him to a particularly vile disease is about the same as breaking a man's leg. Maybe even worse. It could kill him.
Liberty works best when you have good, moral people. We have seen it eroding because of bad immoral people abusing their rights.
As far as the guy that's griping about being forced into quarantine goes, he thinks he can do what he wants. If that's so, then someone else can do what they want.
BANG! Thud. One in the X-ring. Call the coroner.
I bet the DA would not want me on the jury if a he decided to prosecute someone like the shooter for murder if he pleaded self defense.
He'd walk. Or at the very least I'd hang the jury.
There is a law in Texas that says that an affirmative defense for murder is 'the man just needed killing'. The defendant has to prove to twelve tried and true Texans that Texas was better off without him.
Something like that should not be a very hard sell.
People seem to forget that although liberty is a wonderful thing it requires personal responsibility.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Saturday, April 4, 2020
One of the things I see about all things MILSPEC
is how many people simply assume it is the best stuff out there.
Oftentimes it actually is but not always.
Sometimes it's a lot worse. How many serving GIs take one look at their gear and promptly go out on the civilian market and buy stuff to either augment or replace it?
Of course back in the day most of us didn't have this option. I recall finding an OD green civvie sleeping bag at Surplus City and quietly slipping into my issue bag for winter field problems but I had to keep it under wraps.
Still, I guess today some GIs are given the option to use non issue gear. Many of them opt to.
Still, the point is that MILSPEC gear is often not as good as some of the stuff out there.
Yet there is an entire caste of people out there that swear by 100% MILSPEC gear.
They seem to forget that the stuff the government buys is supplied by the lowest bidder.
Hell, back in basic when they first issued us M16A1s most of the guys were agog at such a piece of equipment.
I looked at them and said, "You DO realize that these rifles were supplied to the government by the lowest bidder. Look. They were made by the GM Hydra-Matic Division. GM ain't no gunmaker1"
As soon as I said that I realized I had screwed up because the drill sergeant had overheard me. Instantly I realized I was going to be OK because he was smirking.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Oftentimes it actually is but not always.
Sometimes it's a lot worse. How many serving GIs take one look at their gear and promptly go out on the civilian market and buy stuff to either augment or replace it?
Of course back in the day most of us didn't have this option. I recall finding an OD green civvie sleeping bag at Surplus City and quietly slipping into my issue bag for winter field problems but I had to keep it under wraps.
Still, I guess today some GIs are given the option to use non issue gear. Many of them opt to.
Still, the point is that MILSPEC gear is often not as good as some of the stuff out there.
Yet there is an entire caste of people out there that swear by 100% MILSPEC gear.
They seem to forget that the stuff the government buys is supplied by the lowest bidder.
Hell, back in basic when they first issued us M16A1s most of the guys were agog at such a piece of equipment.
I looked at them and said, "You DO realize that these rifles were supplied to the government by the lowest bidder. Look. They were made by the GM Hydra-Matic Division. GM ain't no gunmaker1"
As soon as I said that I realized I had screwed up because the drill sergeant had overheard me. Instantly I realized I was going to be OK because he was smirking.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Friday, April 3, 2020
Every single time I get thrown in jail....
is something I say from time to time. I say it casually to make it sound like a weekly event.
I did it in earshot of a cop once and watched him cover his mouth to hide a big smirk.
Someone was griping about something and I replied, "I know what you mean. Every time I get thrown in jail I always get stuck with a groper on either side of me. I generally break the fingers of one of them and sleep on that side of the cell. Problem is if you sleep in the middle of the cell then both perverts grope you all night. And don't get me started about the pyromaniac that kept setting his mattress on fire and practically asphyxiating me. Happens practically every single time."
Or someone was complaining about some minor ailment and the antibiotics they were taking.
"Hey, that sounds like the stuff they used to give me every time I got the clap. That stuff isn't too bad. Nowadays the clap has gotten resistant to it. Hell, nowadays it's harder to get rid of the clap than it is to get rid of syphilis. The syph used to take weeks to get rid of but the last time I had it they knocked it out pretty quickly."
"Oh...that. I didn't do it and the cops know I didn't do it because they know that at the time I was burglarizing a place down the street. The can't pin the burglary on me either because when they shook me down I didn't have any stolen goods on me because I'd already fenced everything."
At the bank while getting a stack of ones to use to send in lieu of stamps to request QSL cards:
No. I am not having a garage sale. Bubbles is working at the club tonight!"
That one was a classic because the octagenarian woman behind me was pretty quick on the uptake. She was also pretty top heavy and had her rather large badges of femininity encased what was probably a bullet bra made of the stuff them make seat belts out of.
She stuck her enormous bosom out and asked me in a loud voice, "They having a wet T-shirt contest, too?"
That brought the house down.
Of course the people I say things like this to are generally split pretty much down the middle. They either catch the sarcasm or believe every word of it. The ones that believe everything generally get pretty nervous and are fun to watch.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
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