More pressure on that dopey vaccine.

A number of people have been using HCQ and Ivermectin to either avoid or treat Covid 19 with excellent results.

I read where Ivermectin has not been approved for human use somewhere but SURPRISE! Neither has the Amazing Vaccine.

Mitch McConnell seemed surprised that so many members of the American public have refused the vaccine. I suppose he thinks the American public is going to fall into line and do what they are told. That's a joke.

I see things a little different. I don't do what the government tells me to do all the time so I don't see why anyone else will or for that matter, should.

As far as I see it, nobody should be pressured into getting a vaccine of any sort. 

What gripes me is a lot of the people that insist that other people get the Amazing Vaccine are the very same people that that screech about the abortion issue saying that the government has no right to tell them what to do with their bodies.

I remember some mouthy guy one time babbling about how everyone should geet the Amazing Vaccine and he went on and on and said people should be forced to take it.

I grew tired and had the unmitigated gall to ask him "What if they don't want to?"

Of course I was treated to a tirade about how someone should be held down while he gets injected.

"So you're telling me that it's OK for the government to force people to put something entirely alien into their bodies, right? Something that hasn't even been approved for human use yet, no less! It's OK to tie women down and force them to have a fetus aborted out of their bodies, or not allowed to abort, right? It's the same damned thing!"

The Amazing Vaccine now has nothing to do with health or the welfare of the public and everything to do with politics.

Trump fast tracked it and while he was in office both Biden and Kamela said it was dangerous and said not to get it. Immediately after the election Biden claimed it and has tried to force it on everyone.

It is nothing more or less than a political football and the whole thing has done nothing more than expose the CDC for what it is, a politically motivated part of the swamp run by empire builders that only care about feathering their own nest. It holds little if any credibility. It's sad because it used to.

While the disease itself is real, and in some cases lethal, it's been turned into a political football by fear mongerers for political gain.

I do not think for a minute anyone on either side of this unless they can prove their side to me with known science and facts.

I do fully believe that people have been pulled from death's door with HCQ and/or Ivermectin, though. I believe it's very likely these are as efficient or even moreso than the dopey Amazing Vaccine.

One thing I can say about it is that it was created in a laboratory  under clean conditions. It's a lot better than one idiot that gave me a speil it. That idiot had likely been created on the ladies room floor of a strip club. 

Then again in San Francisco I was walking on a sidewalk and pulled my mask down for a minute to get some real air and someone said something to me about it.

"I'm getting ready to light a cigarette," I said. "Give me a break!"

He wans't ready for that one. Smoking in public in San Francisco is illegal.

When he recovered I was treated to a rather halfway decent conniption fit. I was rather proud of myself.

 

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I just read where mayors that have defunded the police have spent

millions of our hard earned tax money on personal security.

Someone once said that government officials that want to disarm the public suck at governing and I think they are right. If they are afraid of their constituency there's generally a reason for it.

Further up the food chain security seems to make a sense but on a mayorial level it's questionable. 

The fact that they defund the police and up their own personal security shows me that they are not comfortable with their decision and are rammiing something down the people's throats.

It's a case of the people losing their security but some feedbag elected official gains theirs. They increase their security because they know the people are not exactly enamored to lose police and other protections.

One of the things that people do is band together for their own protection. If the .gov doesn't supply it they will supply their own. Militias are popping up in Minnesota and other places, calling themselves neighborhood watch groups to defend their neighborhoods.

The drawback is that often these little groups are led by egocentric jerks and also that there is no real oversight. The other drawback is that there is no way any offenders they might round up can be fed into the criminal justice system so the group becomes not only the police, but the judge and jury.

It pretty much becomes a breakdown of society in another sense and a popularity contest. It slowly turns society into a bunch of warlords leading localized groups.

What we ought to do is refund the police and limit the personal security of the mayors. When elected officials realize there's a chance they may wind up riding on a rail with a nice coat of tar and feathers they tend to govern a little better.

This holds doubly true for Congress. 

I wonder how long Nancy Pelosi would last if they took her security detail away from her?

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Someone angrily commented that I must be enjoying my second childhood.

I told him I'm still enjoying my first childhood.

He is middle aged and therefore not amused.

I also added that at my age it is good to be working on my second million dollars, causing him to scowl even more.

What he doesn't understand is I am working on my second million because I gave up on making my first million quite some time ago but I didn't tell him that.

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Back in the day when I got my first Merchant Marine Document (then called a Z-card)

I really threw a wrench into the Regional Exam Center because I had taken the lifeboat course while I lived in Alaska.

The origunal document was a sheet of paper with my information on it and a photograph of myself stapled to it. I could get a real card after 60 days of sea time.

After 60 days I showed up ar the REC again to collect my 'hard card' AND take the Lifeboatman's test. The rules to take the test were a year's sea time on the card OR 60 days sea time and a course approved by the Commandant. Of course, I had the latter and the diploma to prove it.

When I told them I wanted to take the test I was categorically denied because they said I needed a year's sea time. That's when I whipped out the diploma and quoted the appropriate rule that permitted me to.

The two petty officers looked at each other dubiously and handed me off to the Chief. The Chief commented that it had been a while since anyone had gone that route and told the two petty officer to check the rule. Both did and were surprised I was eligible. I guess you learn something new every day.

The next step was to see of the diploma had actually been properly approved. I was on the east coast and Alaska was several time zones away so I was told to come back in about 4 hours because of the time zone differences which I did.

When I returned they gave me the OK to test and I sat down and did well in the written. Then I did well in the practical and they whipped my card up in short order.

I returned to the office at the last minute and the personel woman wanted the obligatory burned off copy for my record. While making it she noticed the Lifeboatman's endorsement and asked me how I had managed to get it. Normally the Lifeboatman's test was a part ot the Able Seaman's test.

I told her I had taken the course when I considered working on the Alaska ferry system and explained how the system worked.

As I near the end of my career I sometimes wonder if I should have stayed in Alaska and worked on the ferries. I would have been retired over a decade ago with a fat pension but had I retired 10 years ago I probably would have drank myself to death. 

Who knows?

Like the graffiti on the landing craft said, It's too late to worry now.

 

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I just read that in NYC some woman grabbed her dog and jumped off a 22 story building.

What an absolutely rotten thing to do to the poor dog.

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Do it right or don't do it at all.

I hate half-assed work at just about anything.

I saw the goofiest thing I have seen in decades but that's no surprise. I was in the San Francisco bay area when I saw it.

Anyway it was a guy apparently trying to look like a woman and instead just made himself look like a total idiot. He had some kind of totally ill fitted wig on, a skirt and top that kind of but not quite fitted him. His makeup job was like something a 5 year old girl would do to herself.

He didn't even have the decency to take the wispy peach fuzz off of his face.

I would nickname this idiot 'the 1000 Yard Retard' as you could see  He was nothing more or less than a human eyesore and you could tell from 1000 yards.

Don't get all worked up and call me an old frump because I have been aroung transgenders back in the 80s. I knew a number of them back in Kodiak and every single one of them worked at making the switch. I never saw one of them that wasn't trying thier damnedest to be a woman, both during and after their transition.

Hell, Drag Queen Fredddie (who I have not seen around in a long time) was meticulous when he went around in drag. Freddie took damned good care of himself and always looked attractive when he went into drag. Freddie was a lot nicer to stand behind in line than an awful lot of women to be fair about it.

He did look a little scruffy when he was in male mode which is OK because he was a guy to begin with.

Maybe the problem is that he doesn't really want to put out the extra effort to be a halfway decent she. Who knows?

I really don't care but the truth to me is that he was nothing more than a human eyesore.

Then what else can you expect from out national granaloa bar.

  

 

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I am losing weight which is a good thing.

It's actually pretty easy if you're even a little bit disciplined.

You don't have to starve. 

You just eliminate bread, rice, pasta and beans and anything with a lot of carbs.

It ain't hard.

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Bathroom scales are a total exercise in frustration.

I now have 3 and all three of them give different readings and have little repeatability. I'm simply going to throw two of them out and use the third only.

I am NOT going to use it to determine my actual weight. It's wrong. It's not even repeatable.

What I am going to use it for is to watch the trend. AM I LOSING WEIGHT?

An example of what I mean is that if it keeps telling me I am between 200 and 210 pounds and drops to where is says 190 to 200 I am going to reasonable assume I have dropped about 10 pounds but still have no clue as to what I really weigh.

I KNOW I am slowly losing weight because I can feel it. I'm also not trying to his some perfect ideal as as seen on TV magic weight. I'm just trying to slim down to something reasonable.

Besides the so-called BMI charts for my build are unreasonable.  If I managed to get my weight down to what the chart says I should weigh I would look like an Auschwitz survivor. 

The scales have been reduced to nothing more than reference tools. 

In short, bathroom scales suck.

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The concrete dock was only a little more than a week old. It was pristine

when one of my guys was lowering a bunch of paint on to it. A can of red paint fell off and busted open right on the new dock.

Had it even been a month or so later nobody would have thought twice about it but this was the first mess made on it.

We cleaned it up as best we could. We used about 5 gallons of thinner to clean it up but there is always the scum left over and no matter how much you try you can never make it go away.

One of the guys asked how we were going to get out of the inevitible ass chewing coming along and my reply was it was easy.

I took my finger and wrote "Bob R. did it" in the leftover scum and we never heard a single word about it.

I later heard they tried to say something to Bob R. but he happened to be out of town when the accident occurred. A few days later someone else spilled some hydraulic fluid on the dock and it was considered broken in after that.

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Oh, yeah. The Hash is just the place to come to for relationship advice.

The first piece of advice is not to come here for relationship advice.

About the best advice I can give anyone is be yourself unless you can be a sailor. If you can, then be a sailor.

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Because people like you make it too profitable to go away.

That's why racism isn't going anywhere. There's too much money to be made with racism.

Once you understand 'anything for a buck' it becomes a lot clearer.

A while ago I heard that BLM has raised over a billion dollars. David Duke has profited as has Al Sharpton.

When you can't make a buck on it anymore, racism will go away.

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One of the things I did a few years ago at work

was to bring in a huge lovely pink feather boa. RuPaul would have been proud to own such a lovely thing.

When I was home it stayed locked in my locker and when I returned to work it would hang on a hook in the doorway so everyone coming in would see it.

Practically everyone that saw it would aske me what it was doing there.

"I don't know," I would reply. "The other crew left it."

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Behind enemy lines again.

One of the pleasant surprises I have gotten behind enemy lines are the Lyft/Uber drivers that seem to be pretty good about things in general.

I attribute it to the fact that they are basically self-employed or really semi self employed. They are responsible for maintaining their own vehicle, paying taxes, doing paperwork and real live responsible things. They don't get to eat if they don't work.

The longer, harder and smarter they work the more they make. Many of them seem to be pretty ambitious. One grilled me for information on becoming a sailor. He is trying to better himself. I'll help anyone do that. 

What surprised me was that I got a long ride to SFO from a driver that was a real Trump fan and another driver on another run, a black man, that understood the real meaning of the Confederate flag and appreciated and respected it.

The latter had gone to school in Virginia and said that practically everyone of his classmates had a Confederate flag decal on his pickup and that every one of them treated him like a brother. I wasn't surprised to hear that. I WAS surprised to hear it from a Bay area resident, though.

Behind enemy lines I do tend to try and fly under the radar, though. I also make it a point to stay out of the city which I actually try and do everywhere I travel.

Actually this isn't 100% true. It only applies when I am at work. When I am on my own time I really don't GAF.

You take the man's money, you take the man's orders although there are exceptions to this rule, they are rare as hell in the private sector. It's the boss's money and he can spend it any way he wants to.

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Always be yourself unless you can be a sailor...then always be a saailor.

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Whoever said 'There are no stupid questions' is just plain stupid.

There are a boatload of stupid questions out there.

The chowderhead that said there are no stupid questions is just plain  stupid.

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Boy! What a crummy cop he was!

So I get stopped driving 140 mph down the wrong way of a one way residential street. I get pulled over drunk with a beer can in one hand, a hypodermic needle in the other, an open whisky bottle next to a stolen gun and a bag of weed on the seat and a burned out license plate light.

What a bum he was!

The rotten bastard wrote me up for the burned out tail light.

I never seem to catch a break.

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

Actually one time years ago I did get stopped speeding. I was really moving.

I had gotten off the boat and was headed home after a very late crew change and was a few miles short of my exit. I was overtired, grouchy and wanted to get home. I opened the throttle wide open and was moving. Fast!

Then I got lit up on and pulled over. I told the cop the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and was rewarded for my honesty with a ticket for failing to obey a posted sign, a no points cheap $25 fine.

I considered it a gift from heaven and went home laughing.

I always have wondered how many idiots would have been mad at the cop over it. Some people would complain if you hanged them with a new rope. 

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a rattlesnake almost gets a pass.

One time during a field problem I was on an OP with a couple of other guys. I was in charge (arguably a mistake)

Anyway one of the new privates found a prairie rattler and started teasing it with a stick. I saw what he was doing and told him to leave it alone. Of course he didn't and promptly got bit. I have read that fooling around with a rattler is one of the leading causes of snakebite and I tend to believe it.

Needless to say, he flipped out and instantly wanted to kill the snake and I restrained him.

"Leave the damned snake alone," I said. "He gets a pass for teaching you not to do stupid things and besides we gotta get you evacuated."

Then I remembered that we were supposed to kill the snake and bring it in with the bite victim so I blew its head off with a blank cartridge.

I told a Sp/4 to take care of the bite and reached for the radio and called battalion and reported it and asked if a chopper was required for evacuation and they said they'd call it in. 

The Sp/4 was an old hand that was probably more qualified than I was and was still a Sp/4 because promotions in his MOS were slow. He actually should have been running this detail but I wore the stripes.

We did the proscribed first aid, a chopper arrived and he got flown to the base hospital where it was later to be found to be a dry bite. This supposedly happens about a third of the time with rattlers. 

Later I chewed the guy out for making me kill a snake that had actually done no wrong but had performed a valuable service which was teaching him not to do stupid things. I later heard the old man had overheard me telling him off and smirked.

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Piccolo's law on trash.

Piccolo's Law on Trash reads: The liklihood of someone throwing something away properly is in direct proportion of how convenient it is to do so.

If you want to get rid of a busted flat screen TV and all you have to do is put it out with the recyclables on trash day than that's pretty much what everyone will do. It's simple.

When the way to get rid of an old flatscreen becomes a nightmare like the following scenario then what's going to happen?

1. Send for a special padded box. $126.50.

2. Pack said TV into box and drop off at the collection depot 374 miles away from home and pay a $437.95 Hazamat fee, a shipping to the recycling center charge of $396.34.

3.  $10.00 notary fee to insure the paperwork is valid. Bring a Real ID for this one.

4. Drive another 374 miles to get back home.

OR

Just dump the damned thing in a ravine somewhere after dark.

Pick one.

You may then sit down and tune into the MSM and hear the terrible tale of why the Grand Canyon has been filled up with flatscreen TVs and hear the Sierra Club (or whoever) wondering in total confusion why people don't recycle things properly.

Update. I just read where someplace is willing to take flatscreens for $30 each.

Job opportunity: 

Of course that means anyone  with a pickup truck can under bid them by five bucks, pick up a pretty good handful of cash and then quietly dump the whole truckload into a ravine somewhere.

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Piccolo meets a guy that knows the game.

in of all places, San Francisco.

While walking in to a supermarket I guess the door sensor was askew because it didn't open for the man ahead of me, a cheerful looking black guy in dreadlocks.  I was entering squarely. He had come in from the side. When I approached it it opened. I looked at him seriously and said, "The door must be racist," and was treated to an amused smirk. I had stolen the line from somewhere else who had a similar thing happen.

Both of us were curious enough to try and figure it out. Apparently the sensor was askew a bit but that's neither here nor there. Still, we both feigning seriousness agreed the door was racist. The game was on.

Actually the first time he had come in from the side. I had approached is straight on but we still both agreed the door was racist. Why not? 

I waved him through but he politely told me to go first.

"It's certainly nice to see a fine young man like yourself being so kind to a senior citizen," I said.

"I try," he replied. "I was taught to be kind to old people," he replied.

"My!  That's certainly saved you from any number of gunshot and stab wound, Hasn't it?" I asked, cheerfully. I was treated to the amused look of a younger man that knew how the game was played. You laugh, you lose.

"You know, now that you mention it my cousin works near the Social Security office and he doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. He's always getting shot, stabbed and beaten up by old people. Why, just last week he got the living snot beat out of him by an old lady with a cane." he said. It clearly was a fabricated story but that's part of the game.

I mentioned shooting and knifing fifteeen or twenty rude youngsters since I turned 60. He smirked. We both saw some nosy kid listening in.

A nosy college aged boy in half-ased drag butted in. He had been listening in and demanded to know if I had a gun. "Of course," I replied. "How else would I be able to shoot some rude little whelp like you." The kid threatened to call the police on me. You know, the police he wants defunded.

The guy in dreadlocks spoke up. "You know, I'm supposed to be somewhere soon but I don't care if I'm late. I want to watch this one come down."

I looked at the college aged kid. "Hey, a$$hole, whaddya gonna do about it? Tell my parole officer and get my parole yanked and have me put back in the joint? I just got OUTTA San f***in' Quinten, ya little dweeb!"

The kid turned ashen and the guy in the dreadlocks damned near but not quite laughed. "That old man will shoot your ass!" he said.

It was still a draw. Neither of us had broken out laughing and the ashen faced kid walked off kind of fast.

It was a joy meeting another smug smartassed piece of cloth that came from the same bolt. We then looked at each other both and laughed like hell.

What was really astonishing to me is it happened in San Francisco.

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There is a little nook of a restaurant

near where I live. They do a pretty good basic breakfast and lunch and the food's pretty good. It's been closed since Covid and they are opening after the remodeling has been completed. It's running a little late.

Oh, well.

On the neighborhood board there are all sorts of people wondering and waaiting in anticipation of the Great Reopening or the Amazing Breakfast and Lunch Nook. 

The remodel is going slow, probably because all the subcontractors are jammed up tight.

People are really getting impatient so I put my two cents worth in.

"Tell her to get on the stick. Half of the town looks like they live in a concentration camp."

Likely most people will chuckle but there's always one that will caterwaller and claim her grandmother died at Auschwitz and so on.

Which I suppose would be fair enough but I ran into a drama queen once that tried to say her grandmother died at Auschwitz. I knew that was false and it automatically made her a target of opportunity. That in itself is unfair to those that died there.

I asked her how much she knew about Auschwitz and she claimed to know a lot.

I asked her how many people died there and she said six million. Truth is according to what I could easily find it was 1.1 million.

"Six million, huh? I asked.

"Yes. Six million," she replied.

"Name them."

Anyway, the little nook is opening up one of these days in the foreseeable future and five or six bucks should get me a pretty good breakfast although I like to make my own these days.

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I just bought a mechanical bathroom scale and I don't care too much how accurate it is.

What I do care for is that it will be repeatable. The two digitals I have suck. I can weigh myself on either of them and in fifteen minutes reweigh myself and get a 5-10 pound difference. I can also weigh myself on both of them one right after the other and there's a big difference, too.

I have long given up on this what you are supposed to weigh, BMI indexes and all of that nonsense. I just use three things, a mirror, my belt and how I feel. Right now I do not like what I see, my belt is out to holes near the end and I feel sluggish. As of a few weeks ago I went on a low carb diet and have dropped about 20 pounds and have more to go. 

I don't really care how accurate the scale is. It can be a few pounds off. I am using it as a tool to see if I am losing weight. It really IS that simple. Of course a ball park figure of my weight is a big plus but it isn't priority. I just want to know if the pounds are dropping.

The test of it is going to be when I stand on it and come back fifteen minutes later, having neither taken in anything or lost anything and the weight is the same. It's called repeatability.

As I lose weight I will know it simply because of the numbers dropping.

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Food shopping for a tugboat...or I have 23 children to feed.

for a three week tour is kind of a pain in the ass because too many people ask nosy questions. Others don't understand what is going on.

I used to sometimes have as many as six or seven full carts. 

The store was used to boat orders and would generally assign a single register to it and supply boxes, generally banana boxes if we called ahead.

I'd generally stuff the full carts into the assigned register and grab another and continue.

Sometimes people would ask why I was buying so much. 

Occasionally I would have people, mostly men, ask if I was shopping for a boat or a construction crew. I'd answer 'boat' and they'd nod and wander off.

Now the last thing I wanted to tell them is what I was actually doing which is shopping for a boat. If I told them I would wind up playing twenty questions with an idiot.

I actually had a woman say, "I don't understand why a boat needs that much food!"

I didn't want to bother explaining that there are no convenience stores off of the South Carolina coast so I simply replied, "That's because you are stupid." and left it at that.

People fail to understand that in one fell swoop a boat shopper has to get enough supplies to feed 5-7 men for 21 or more days. That means every single grain of salt, sugar, square of toilet paper and can of beans. If you miss something you will probably have to do without.

It all adds up fast and for seamen that comes out to a lot of chow.  Paper goods are also bulky and fill carts fast. 

A couple of times I explained I was a prepper and that something was going to happen and I was stocking up. Generally I'd throw out some kind of predicted natural disaster because it's nore believeable than a conspiracy theory. As for conspiracies, I generally blame them on the Irish because the Jews have been beaten up enough over the years but I digress.

My favorite excuse for so much chow got to be telling people who asked that I had 23 children to feed. A pretty good portion of them would ask me how I could possily have 23 children. Then it became my turn.

"Didn't your mother have a little talk with you when you were a little girl and tell you whare babies come from?"

It was funny watching them storm off.

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One of the things Karens can't seem to figure out about me

is that I like animals. Most of the time when someone has animal problems I side with the animals. My most common answer is 'leave it alone'.

People are pretty stupid when it comes to animals. Most of the suburban 'problems' are snakes and deer. People worry about harmless snakes and many are killed.

A year ago someone reported killing a bunch of snakes they found in their yard and this year they are bellyaching about the moles that are ruining their precious lawn. I told them 'you did it to yourself when you killed off the snakes'.

Of course I got the obligatory glassy-eyed 'I don't understand' so I had to spell it out. The snakes you killed off eat the moles that now infest your lawn. You had the best organic mole removers known to man that didn't cost you a dime and you killed them off.

"But they're snakes!"

Sounds like a 'no more mean tweets' to me. 

Correct. They're snakes. If you had left them alone you would not be overrun with moles. Now you're going to have to use all kinds of  expensive mechanical and electrical devices and nasty chemicals to get rid of the moles because you killed off nature's free mole removers. Idiot.

The other fairly common one is in the spring when the deer have their fawns. 

"There's a little baby fawn in my back yard! What can I do to help it?"

The best thing you can do to help it is to leave it alone.

"But it's helpless. Where's the mother?"

Down at the bar having a burger and a beer. If you had a baby under a tree with nobody to help you out you'd want something to eat and drink too. The fawn will be there for a day or two. Leave it alone.

"But...I have to HELP that poor fawn!"

What did the deer do before people came along to help them? Leave it alone and let nature run it's course. This kind of thing happened long before you were born and it will continue long after you're gone. Leave the poor animals alone.

Of course there are nuisances to be dealt with like a hornet's nest just outside your back door and that occasionally has to be dealt with. On the other hand, a beehive fifty yards away isn't a problem at all. Just stay away from it.

"But I might get stung!"

Not if you leave it alone.

I've lived in both venonous snake and brown bear country and never had a problem. We just left each other alone.

One guy complained that his son was taking in animals which sounds reasonable to me if the animal wanted to go with him. The kid probably has a way with them the way I have a knack with cats.

I busted his balls by replying, "Don't complain. The last time my son went to the zoo a rhinoceros followed him home."

That one went over a couple of heads. They wanted to know what I did about that so I told them I cleared out the living room and got a couple of bales of hay for the poor animal to eat. It was the only sensible thing to do. The animal was hungry.

Some Karen wanted to know how my wife dealt with a rhinoceros in her living room. I told her the rhino wasn't there very long because he brought it to school for show and tell. The school called animal protection and they had the zoo take the rhino back to captivity. I said I remember that as being the day he got suspended.

When she said that he should have been suspended for bringing such  a dangerous animal to school I replied he wasn't suspended for that.

He was suspended for an essay he wrote on how middle aged suburban women don't know dooley squat about American history. His take was that if they did they know American history they would know that Abraham Lincoln told the American public not to believe everything they read on the internet.

 

 

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I keep wondering where all the racial friction is. I never get to see it outside of

stupid signs in front of suburban houses and announcements by big companies that announce they are now being 'woke'.

I'm out and about more than most people and am constantly in contact with just about everyone with the exception of the low class criminal element. I don't do druggies, thugs or thieves. In fact the only criminal element I deal with are sidewalk lemonade stands and people like me. On the other hand people like me are not really criminals. We're outlaws and there's a difference but that's another story.

My relationship with people of all whatevers hasn't changed a bit. On my last flight I was seated next to a black woman and we had a nice, warm conversation about kids, cats and dogs. She was a kind wonderful woman and the mother of a couple of kids, one of which was a mechanical engineer that was doing well.

While I was making a plane change I asked a young black airport employee for directions and not only got directions but a couple if pretty good insider tips including a pretty good place to grab a quick sandwich and cup of joe. I was grateful.

In general I have seen little outward evidence of race relations declining but maybe that's because I only tend to deal with people that are actually working. Those people are too busy taking care of themeslves and their families to get involved with the Bravo Sierra.

I can't speak for anything but my experiences.

 

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I flew across the country recently and was seated beside a mother and two children.

that were the best behaved children I have ever seen.

They appeared to be of Indian heritage and were a pair of beautiful little girls. I did compliment the mother. I even told her I wish their family would move into my neighborhood.

Then we landed. 

The airlines don't feed people anymore and I was hungry and had a long car ride coming up so I went into a place for a quick sandwich to take to one of the common seating tables.

The instant my butt hit the chair and I started opening the sandwich, in pops a mother with one of the worst behaved kids I have seen in years. The mother was a typical Californian white suburban woman.

The kid started pushing stuff like chairs around.

"Hey, lady!" I said, "If your kid upsets my table you're going to buy me a new lunch. Please get that kid out of here."

"Why do you hate children?" she asked.

"I LOVE children," I replied. "I just can't manage to eat a whole one by myself anymore."

She took her kid and fled.

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Yes i drink to forget. Why do I need to drink today? I forgot.

Well that saves me the price of a bottle of bourbon.

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Ptivate/1LT John Stanley, Military intelligence.

One of the things that I would get detailed to do in the service was to run an 'aggressor squad'. The First Sergeant often let me pick the people for this and I recruited a number of the battery troublemakers.

We were being sent out to make trouble and I wanted experienced people with me.

I was a bit too well known around Divarty so I picked the most theatrical of the lot. He was another Tony Curtis type that I knew would make a First Class Imposter.

I also scrounged a couple of pizza boxes which I put aside for later use. I also bought a set of first lieutenant bars and a military intelligence branch pin from the PX.

Then Stan and I sat down with beers and plotted.

The story we came up with is that a Jeep belonging to a pizza place had been intercepted at Cottonwood Junction with a couple of pizzas and a military map in it along with the unit identification the coordinates . The Jeep was supposedly being driven by a recently discharged GI.

Division was supposedly aware that this happened and wanted the practice stopped immediately. The unit that had intercepted the Jeep had notified the Assistant Division Commander and he wanted to speak to the Battalion Commander immediately.

Actually pizzas could be delivered to a unit IN GARRISON and nowhere else. They were forbidden to go 'down range' and they knew it. They obeyed the rules. Occasionally they would make a delivery alongside the fence paralleling highway 115. It was rare to be near enough the fence for our outfit although one time on another detail I managed to successfully get a pie once but that's another story.

Anyway, the mission went as planned. Stan bluffed his way past the guards with the pizza boxes and his tale of woe and told the Battalion Commander he was supposed to accompany him to the Assistant Division Commander's quarters.

Stan sat in back, the BnCO sat in front and PFC Whatshisface drove the Jeep straight to the 'administrative holding area' where the BnCO was informed he was a prisonor of war. He went ballistic as to be expected and started making the usual and expected threats that were ignored. 

The Divarty XO was there and the BnCO started talking about an enlisted man impersonationg and officer. The XO looked at me and asked why Stan had been wearing officer's bars. I told him I had promoted him on my authority as senior Circle Trigon Army member present and that he had been sent on an undercover mission to kidnap the BnCO.

"That's pretty thin," said the XO "But I'll buy it. Pretty clever. How do you figure you could promote someone?"

My battalion S-2 spoke up. "Uhh, sir. This man usually gets the job when the battery is told to supply aggressors. Sometimes we call him 'Colonel Piccolo of the Circle Trigon Army'. "

Stan had problems with his mouth. He looked at the Divarty XO. "Just think, Sir. If we're outside of here and garrison you'd have to salute HIM."

"I can just picture Colonel Livingston hearing that," said the Divarty XO. 

"He has more time in grade than I do. I'd have to salute him," I added helpfully. The Divarty XO outright laughed at that and I knew our acorns were out of the fire. He called me a sneaky bastard.

The entire point was moot. Salutes were never exchanged in the field in the first place.

Then my battery S-2, a captain, spoke up. "What are we going to do with the captured BnCO?"

"He's a legitimate military casualty, Sir. I'd send him back into garrison with orders not to communicate with his battalion, Sir," I replied.

The Divarty XO looked at me. "Colonel...dammit! Sergeant...Now I've got it...we both think alike." He turned to my battery S-2. "So ordered. The BnCO goes home."

I was glad I didn't have to hear the fireworks over that one but my S-2 looked at the Divarty XO and asked him if he wanted him to bust me back to sergeant.

"You don't have the authority," he replied, dryly. "That would require a General Courts-Martial by the Circle Trigon Army. You're stuck with him. You made him, you salute him."

The officers here dutifully chuckled.

The fallout was that the kidnapped BnCO wasn't going to get promoted. He would retire as a lieutenant colonel. The horror show he had thrown had probably cemented that. The BnCO had done it to himself.

Had the BnCo accepted things and gone along with it it he would have stood back and simply realized his battalion would get along fine without him. 

His battalion passed their test without him and had he not caused the horror show could have come out of it smelling like a rose. It would have looked like he had done his job and trained his people.

Our army has a pretty interesting history of units still remaining combat effective while under the leadership of very junior officers and in some cases enlisted men alone. I've read true stories of corporals running platoons with effectiveness.

 

 

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OK, Mac. Who won the World Series?

Back in the day I actually said that to the Divarty Sergeant Major and was treated to a Vesuvian eruption which I had expected before I even said it.

I was a sergeant of the guard and checking out my people when a Jeep came up. My guard dutifully challenged him with the password and instead of the proper reply he got "It's the Colonel and the Sergeant Major."

Now the guard was just a dopey private and probably would have replied, "Oh. OK." and let them through. That was actually the wrong thing to do. I stepped in and threw out the password and got the same thing Private Whatshisface got.

I turned to the private and told him that sometimes you have to think a bit and turned to the people in the Jeep and in a pretty aggressive tone of voice snapped, "OK, Mac. Who won the World Series?"

The Sergeant Major went off like a skyrocket. In the middle of his rant I interrupted him with "Pass, Colonel and Sergeant Major. Nobody rants like you do." He turned purple and they drove off with the Sergeant Major agape and the Colonel with a poker face. The Sergeant Major looked like a wet hen.

"Stay put," I said to the private. "I gotta go and get my ass chewed." and I headed straight for the TOC.

On the way I saw my battery commander who asked me if I had really asked the Sergeant Major who won the world series and he rolled his eyes when I said I had. He told me to go straight to the TOC.

Entering the TOC the first thing the Battalion Commander who glared at me and demanded to know why I had done what I did.

"They didn't know the password, Sir," I replied. "So I threw the hokiest John Wayne movie line I could think of so if they really were the Colonel and the Sergeant Major then the Sergeant Major would go off like a skyrocket, which he did."

The Sergeant Major looked rumpled and the Colonel spoke up. He seemed slightly amused. "Why did you pick such a dumb question as that?"

"Because it was the dumbest, hokiest line I could come up with on such short notice. It was a line designed to get a reaction and it worked. I got the expected response." I replied.

"That it did," chuckled the Colonel.

"Truth is I recognized you both and had I been the guard would have said I recognized you both and let you pass. The private on guard is a little shaky and needed a lesson on taking guard seriously," I said. "I'm a sergeant and not much of one. I'm an acting jack but I know I'm expected to be able to think on my feet and teach the privates. He'd let anyone by that said they were an officer. We gotta teach these guys."

That got the Sergeant Major's attention. "You're right. As NCOs it's our job to teach these guys." he said. I could see him start to settle down a bit which was good.

Then the Sergeant major said something to save face. "Good job, Sergeant." he said.

Then the Colonel asked me how they could get the password in the future. I saw my Battalion Commader cringe a bit. "Check with your S-2, Sir. It sounds like something up their alley."

The BnCo relaxed a bit, mainly because I had not dumped the question on his shoulders. "Makes sense," said the Colonel.

All in all I came out of it smelling like a rose.

 

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It's getting a bit more difficult to find the truth these days

and seems to be taking a lot more time to get to it.

Even then you don't know if what you get is the straight dope.

It's sad.

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I am going to leave the laptop open and let the cat make this post.

We will see what happens next.

ax uklll

hbw

Oh well. Cat didn't seem to want to walk all over my desk today.

Maybe later.

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Martha Stewart is now shilling for kitty litter.

Which is fine if she really is a cat person like she says she is in the ad and it really is good kitty litter.

What is interesting is I do not hold her criminal record of inside trading against her, either. She actually did nothing wrong. If insider trading is OK for congresspeople, then it's OK for the rest of us.

Still, I see that Stewartt seems to be playing the game so many Hollywood types do. The game of trying to stay relevant.

--------------------------------------

I was listening to a guy tell me about his flying career. Interesting man.

He served in the military to fly and in his mind ONLY to fly.

When they assigned him to flying a desk he left active duty and got a job in the civilian sector flying and flew.

He's retired now from the civilian airline job and is still flying as an instructor and says he will do so until he goes bust on his physical.

As for his military time? 

He flew a desk one weekend a month and two weeks a yeaar in the summer and retired as a reservist and started drawing a pension when he turned 60.

Slick operator. 

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Things are changing and not really for the good.

It wasn't long ago when I had a pretty good rapport with many of the local kids. I guess I just got older and am probably expected to yell at clouds or some damned thing.

It wasn't long ago I could have a quiet word with a kid and help keep him out of trouble with both the powers that be and their parents.

Right now I wish I could have a quiet word with one of the recently licensed teens that moves a little fast in the neighborhoods. I don't want to see them get jammed up with either the law OR their parents.

Of course if a kid gets a ticket they generally have to face the wrath of their parents when they find out about it and eventually they do.

I don't know what it is like now but back in the day the police tended to prey on the younger set. An adult getting stopped speeding was less likely to get written up as a youngster was. It's also likely that an adult isn't as easily intimidated by an officer.

It's a shame I am losing my lines of communication with the young because I have a lot of good information to pass on to any young people that want to embark on a life of crime.

 

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I hate people that try and do things for me that I don't want done.

After explaining I was losing weight through a low/no carb plan someone offered me a nice, nutricious sandwich on 37 grain bread which I refused. They wondered why and I explained that the bread had 3762.4 g of carbs in it per slice. They looked confused and said, "But it's GOOD for you!"

Twinkies are good for you. If you don't believe it, ask the Hostess people that make them.

I went through a stage where an awful lot of food got thrown away and I was generally pissed off at stupid people. You explain that you're pretty much doing a low carb fish and chicken thing and they hand you a plate full of beer battered fish or KFC and wonder why you simply throw it away.

But it's fish or chicken!

Yeah. Covered with an inch of batter. It's almost as bad as a salad coverer with an inch and a half layer of 1000 Islands dressing.

Someone asked me what I would have felt like if

I had lived in Chicago during the St.Vaentine's Day Massacre.

Frankly it would not have bothered me a bit because it was strictly a mob hit.

It would be another thing altogether if the victims had been ordinary people. My attitude towards the criminal element is let them fight.

In fact I don't even sewe why Dewey went after Murder, Inc. in New York. They had over 1000 murders under their belt according to what I read once and all of the victims were involved in criminal activity so it's not like it was a loss.

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SOmething interesting happened to me on the 4th.

North of me is a somewhat small town and they were having fireworks on the evening of the 4th which is really what you're supposed to do. I decided to check it out. Besides I wanted a convertible ride in the evening. I took the Miata.

I saw four cops standing outside the police station and asked them where a good place to park was. The senior officer of the group said, "Right there," pointing to a small piece of grass in the station yard.

Luck of the Irish. I was 50 yards from the park gate.

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Well I want....

Sometimes you're not going to get what you want. Get over it.

Of course you CAN get what you want but you don't want to pay for it. I see something coming along like this in the making.

Someone has one of the old wells in their place and wants it to go away which is possible but they seem to want it to disappear completely.

Yes. It CAN be done but I don't think they want to pay the bill for it.

They ought to just yank the old pump and pressure tank, seal the walls and floor, cap the well and call it good.

I'm waiting to hear the old "But I want.." line come through.

When that happens I am going to say, "If you want it, pay for it."

Then we get to see an unhappy camper.

Truth is I generally don't care what someone wants.

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I'd bite you too if you picked me up and started annoying me.

As usual I tend to side with animals when there is an animal/people disagreement and I'm at it again.

Seems that someone's dopey kid picked up a non venomous snake and annoyed the hapless animal into biting him. Of course the kid learned that it's best just to leave critters alone. Panicky parents. Off to the emergency room!

Needled to say they identified it as a non venomous bite and the kid went home and the mother is aghast about her little boy being attacked by a giant vicious man-eating gopher snake (or whatever it was).

Of course I sided with the snake. If the kid had just left it alone nothing would have happened.

I told the woman that she should count her blessings he had picked up the snake instead of a grouchy old man like me because if he had I would have bit him quite a few times until he put me down and my teeth are a lot bigger and stronger, too. I'd have probably bitten the kids arm off.

Of course the concept of leaving anything at all alone is totally alien to a lot of people. Some people have to fool with everything they find.

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I see where Texas is making solicitation of a prostitute a felony which is damned stupid.

In the meantime Oregon is legalizing the entire sex industry which actually makes sense.

The sex industry (as it is now called) has ben there since the beginning of time and isn't going to go anywhere in the foreseeable future. Legalizing it makes sense because it can be taken out of the shadows and become a legitimate industry and be properly taxed.

Of course as soon as the law is inacted the cops will send out dozens of sting operators that are easy to spot. They will recruit the real lookers instead of doing what they should be doing.

They should be recruiting the woman cops that are overweight and have a drinking/drug problem.

As a sailor I have been given the come-on my a number of hookers and if the hooker looks attractive I always answer "Not tonight, Officer." and watch their jaws drop and ask me how I know.

It doesn't take much to see through the bull$hit.

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"That man had over 20,000 rounds of ammunition!" according to the police.

Yeah he did.

Now let's take a closer look.

He had 3 containers of Crossman BBs. at 6000 BBs apiece that's 18,000.

There were also 4 bricks of .22 LR, a rimfire cartridge used mainly for target practice. It's the round kids shoot at camp. A brick is 500 rounds, times 4 equals another 2000 rounds bringing the total to 20,000.

There was also a 20 round box of .30-30 with 12 rounds left in it bringing the total to 20,012.

Total count of centerfire ammunition: 12 rounds.

And that's how we fool the public and make them feel safer.

The other stunt they pull is to lay out all the firearms they seize. 

Sometimes they do round up an legitimate collection of sorts but not always. I've seen more than one collection of seized firearms laid out that had maybe one or two legitimate firearms in it. The rest of them were things like Daisy Red Ryder BB guns, airsofts and obsolete and antique weapons that they don't even make mainstream ammunition for anymore.

Of course somebody's grandmother looks at the collection and gasps because she doesn't understand or know what's going on. Grandma feels a little safer. She wouldn't if she knew that the bulk of the display were simply just kid's toys.

This crap has been going on for decades and I find it rather annoying and makes me feel a lot less of the department that does this kind of thing. It makes me think that if a depertment isn't honest then why should I?

 

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