Piccolo goes to a party about 30 years ago.

Someone mentioned this to me recently.

You know you did something worth doing if almost 30 years later someone remembers.

Anyway, I had been invited to a party and decided to show. I wasn't then and still not a cocktail party goer-tooer. They're generally boring as hell but for some long forgotten reason I decided to go to this one.

Now if there's one thing I know how to do it is to stage an arrival.

I walked up to the back porch with a bottle of Jameson's in one hand and an artillery simulator in the other. I am still trying to recall where I got an artillery simulator after all these years but for some reason I managed to find myself in posession of one of those damned things.

I wish I could get a few more but on the other hand, maybe the world is a better place to live because I can't.

Now an artillery simulator is little more than a giant firecracker that makes an Old School cherry bomb sound like a soft fart in a hurricane. It also has a very loud pre-detonation whistle. 

I was on the porch and stayed out of view of the window so I could not be seen and scoped out a decent impact area which proved to be the unpaved driveway. A gravel driveway can tolerate having a crater blown in it while a chunk torn out of an asphalt driveway is an expensive repair job.

Ala John Wayne throwing a grenade in Hollywood, I grabbed the ignition string with my teeth, jerked the simulator and saw it was activated and flipped it into the driveway. I waited because they have long fuses as a safety precaution so PFC What'shisface doesn't lose an arm if he's still holding it when it goes off.

As soon as the thing started the pre-detonation whistle I stood squarely in the doow with a big grin and the simulator went off with a flash that could be seen for the entire neighborhood and a blast that could be heard for miles.

When it blew I was treated to about a half-dozen frightened shrieks from some of the womanfolk already in attendance and the joy of hearing the thing echo a bit.

It was the kind of noise that would have made the lights go on in every house in an 8 block radius at 0300, a combination of a sharp crack and a low, extremely loud boom.

My host immediately flung open the door in complete panic to see what happened and was treated to yours truly standing in the door with a big grin on his face. He stood there agape.

"Hello," I said conversationally.

Now THAT'S how you make an Old School arrival to a party.

 

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Someone asked me how big the crater was that we blew when we took out the Yellowjacket's nest.

Now let's take a minute to think this over.

Based on the size increasing with each retelling, it hasn't gotten quite to the point where it was 125 feet in diameter, 40 feet deep and needed 742 dump trucks to fill it in yet. We're working towards that, though.

That's because the story has been long forgotten and hasn't been retold enough for the crater to get that big yet.

I think we're somewhere in the 25-30 feet wide and maybe two feet deep category vicinity now.

Of course, rest assured that every time it gets retold the size of the crater will certainly grow.

As of now the 25-30 foot wide, two feet deep is my story and I'm stickin' to it.

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One of the things I can't understand is people making a big thing out of nothing.

The Nextdoor set is now fretting about getting an oil change and seems to think it requires the skills of a talented ace crackerjack mechanic.

It doesn't. Any gearhead kid can do it just as well for short money and will likely do as good if not a better job than any professional. 

After all, it's only an oil change.

It's kind of like getting a shot. It doesn't take the skills of a licensed MD to give one. 

It's only a lousy shot. That's all.

In fact MDs are as ofen as not the lousiest shot givers because they don't do it anywhere as often as nurses and the various medical assistants.

Before I went into the service one of the WW2 guys commented about the time he was in the hospital. He said he hated getting any shots from the GI doctors but said "Them old Army nurses know how. If they like you, you don't even feel it. If they don't like you it hurts like holy hell!"

During my hitch I made it a point to be charming to any nurses I encountered. Actually the bulk of my shots in the service came from privates and Spec/4s. They were generally pretty good shot givers. 

Back to changing one's own oil.

In most cars it is a simple process.To explain it in basic terms it is the process of draining the oil sump and replacing the drained oil with fresh oil.  Of course an oil change generally includes replacing the oil filter.

The average teenager can do this in about a half hour once he or she has been shown how it is done. It's really quite simple and it's fun for all ages. I know an old woman that changed hers herself until very recently until her hands got crippled up with arthritis. 

Of course the guy at the shop has a lift which makes things easier yet but it can still be done simply in the driveway.

The first step is gathering the necessary tools and supplies.

You need oil, a filter, a container of some sort to catch the draining oil and two wrenches and a couple of rags. You might get a new drain plug washer in case you drop the old one into the oil and don't want to fish it out of a pan full of oil.

Now I am no longer a skinny teenager so I can't squirm under the car like I used to be able to so I have a pair of ramps to drive said vehicle up on to give me additional space for my old fat belly.

In the winter run the car until the oil heats up to make if flow. It gets pretty thick in the winter. Summertime I don't bother. It may take a minute or more longer but I don't have to be as careful to avoid hot oil.

I run the car up on the stands, loosen the drain plug and place the catch container under the hole and unscrew the plug and let the oil drain into the pan.

While the oil is draining I unscrew and remove the filter. You'll probably need the filter wrench to get the old one started. After you crack it it generally comes off by hand. With a couple of drops of oil I wet the gasket slightly and replace the filter with the new one. You only hand tighten the new filter.

By the time you are done changing the filter the oil from the sump (oil pan) should be empty or close to it. When it is empty replace the drain plug, insuring you have replaced the washer. Snug it up and do NOT use gorilla-like strength.

At this time I slide the full pan out from under the car and take it out of gear and release the brake and shove it off the ramp and open the hood.

Open the oil replacement cover and add enough oil until it's at the top of the dipstick.

Start the car and run it for a few minutes and shut it down and let it rest. Recheck the oil. It should be down a little because it has refilled the filter. Top it off and, replace the oil cap, close the hood, put the tools away and you're ready for a thrilling afternoon of drag racing down on Thunder Alley.

Total time is about 30 mintues.

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Not unless you have $200 cash in your pocket.

The great idiot shortage of 2021 is a lie. It is a liberal hoax. The year is chock full of idiots that think they're special.

Take those charged wires for example. There's always an idiot, more often than not a classical Karen that would take one look at the sign, look at the wires and say, "But they're ugly!" and try to move them.

Of course she'd be fried and as far as I am concerned the world would be a better place for it but that's just me.

Unfortunately few Karens have enough forethought and consideration to make sure they had $200 cash in their bag to pay the fine after they fried themselves. As usual the rest of us foot the bill.

Actually $200 is a pretty inexpensive price for cleaning up a fried wire-mover. It's a deal at twice the price. There's a lot of work involved in cleaning up that kind of a mess. First you have to uncharge the wires. Then you have to call the meat wagon and get a couple of guys with brooms, shovels and a carboard box to put the smoldering mess into. If they are still on fire you're going to need a CO2 extinguisher to put them out before you shovel them up.

It's a fairly expensive process and the $200 fine doesn't mitigate it very much. 

Too many people out there thing that the rules of math and physics don't apply to them and that they can get away with things because they are special. 

Ever watch some of them at a checkout when the total comes up? 

A lot of them start to look around in a state of shock and realize that they are going to have to pay the bill out of their own handbag because Prince Charming took the day off.

Once I was behind one and she looked at ME as if I was going to cough  up $250 for her groceries.

I simply said, "Looks like Prince Charming took the day off and you're going to have to pay for your own stuff."

She gave me a very dirty look and the cashier almost wet her pants laughing.

Anyway, if I were to run into a wire mover in action I would tell them to make damned good and sure they had $200 cash on them to pay the fine afterwards.

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Bangalore! Fire in the hole!

One hot July evening back in the day.

Scene: The Yellowjacket's nest in the front yard and the screened in porch. Dad and Mom were enjoying a cold iced tea. Dad had just pulled out a pack of smokes. Out of nowhere he heard a loud voice shout.

"Bangalore! Fire in the hole!"

Earlier that day he had run over a yellowjacket's nest with the lawn mower and shortly after located the nest and marked it. He saw my brother and I and had said, "Hey, you two, there's a Yellow jacket nest over by the cedars trees. Take care of it."

He figured we'd fill up a pop bottle with gasoline, stuff the neck into the hole and when the bottle was empty throw a lighted match at it.

As was sometimes the case, he had figured wrong.

"Holy $hit!" he shouted as he grabbed my mother, picked her up off her feet and charged back into the house, carrying her through the living room and into the dining room in the back of the house. He gently but quickly laid her on the floor and laid down next to her.

When my confused mother started saying "What's going on? What's going on?" and started to get up he reached over and pushed her head down.

"Stay down!" he shouted.

A couple of seconds there was a flash and a terrible roar. My mother gasped. "Where are the boys?"

"They're OK," replied Dad. "They know what they're doing."

"What are you going to do about this?" asked Mom.

"Nothin'," he snapped. "This one is on me. It's my own damned fault! I told them what to do but not how to do it. I should have known better." he said as he headed outside. He was not a happy camper.

He joind my brother and I checking out the moon sized smoking crater in the front yard. He was shaking his head sadly as he surveyed the damage. Then he noticed the wheelbarrow and garden cart nearby. Both were full of dirt. His attitude changed a little.

"You two got this job doped out pretty good," he said, nodding at the wheelbarrow and cart. "Just fill it in tomorrow morning. Is you know who going to call the police?"

"He's not home. We checked beforehand," I replied. 

"Thank God for small miracles," he said.

He stared at the crater for a couple of seconds and started laughing.  "That's a pretty good one," he said and walked off. As he walked off he noticed the charred, smoldering rag he had marked the nest with hanging from a nearby tree. He looked at it and shook his head.

Just then a car stopped on the street and someone got out. It was a scout leader that wanted to talk to Dad. He took one look at the smoking crater, looked at Dad and and said, "Jesus! Who the hell threw a Willie Peter on your front yard?"

Dad shrugged and casually answered. "The boys just took care of a Yellowjacket nest. That's all."

"I'll say they did," he chuckled.

The two spoke briefly and my scout leader turned to leave. He took another look at the crater and laughed like hell for a minute and left.

My mother started to approach and asked Dad what had happened. "Never mind. It's taken care of," he replied and the two of them went back inside.

The next morning we filller in the crater, rakes the topsoil and got a couple of empty tin cans full of grass seed out of the big bag dad kept in the basement for such gala festivities and reseeded the dirt.

As we reseeded the area we did a rain dance prayed for rain.

The following summer.

I walked into the kitchen and saw an empty quart pop  bottle and a book of matches on the counter. When he heard me enter the kitchen Dad walked in.

"There is an underground Yellowjacket's nest up by the big maple tree near the street. It is about six inches from a yellow handled screw driver I threw there to mark it. "NOW using only THIS MUCH gasoline and these matches," he said, and pointed at the bottle and matches on the counter. "Take care of it."

"Could I...." That was as far as I got.

"NO!"

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Most kids don't want a Goodie-Two-Shoes jacket pinned on them.

This seems to pop up on Nextdoor quite a bit. 

Every so often there's a thread about some kid or kids that brutally assaults someone, often a senior citizen with a random act of kindness. Of course someone wants to make a real carnival over it and reward them publicly.

They help someone catch an escaped pet. They jumped in and help someone. Maybe they help someone keep their groceries from spilling out of a flimsy bag or somethhing. 

Maybe they help a woman mow the hill part of her lawn or change a tire for somebody's poor old grandmother stuck on the road somewhere.

They do this simply for the same reason I did and sometimes still do things of that nature. People do things like that simply because it's the right thing to do. A LOT of kids that do stuff like this do NOT want to be recognized. They do it and just want to go about their business quietly and unrecognized.

Why? Because a lot of kids don't want a Goodie-Two-Shoes jacket pinned on them. Can't say as I blame them. I sure the hell didn't want one pinned on me when I was a kid. A rat jacket was definitely out of the question. Snitches get stitches.

In a lot of circles a Goodie-Two-Shoes label is to be seriously avoided. You get 'the business' from your friends and your youthful integrity comes into question. The guys start wondering if in addition to being a Goodie-Two-Shoes if you are also a rat. It can get rather uncomfortable.

One time one of the neighborhood little kids jumped into water over his head and I fished him out. It really wasn't much. I grabbed him and shoved him a couple of feet to the edge of the dam and he hauled himself out and that ended that. Unfortunately his mother saw the whole thing. It was a Saturday and I knew that the second that woman got home she was going to call my parents and make a big public to-do over it. She had a big mouth. Most likely she'd have carried on like I swam two miles out, dragged him to shore while fighting sharks, sea serpents and giant man-eating squids the whole time. All I had done was give the kid a shove.

That was the LAST thing I needed. The guys would never let me hear the end of that one.

I took off for home like a scalded cat and went straight to Dad who was in the process of fixing a blown fuse. He had already figured out what had overloaded the frail circuits of the old house, unplugged the offending devices, replaced the fuse and was just finishing up telling the womanfolk, of which there were four, that one can't run three blow dryers, a space heater and a ten horsepower electric mixer on the same 15 amp circuit. 

My kid brother and I already knew about that. We had the T-shirts. Besides if we did blow a fuse we knew how to fix it. We also replaced whatever fuses we blew so we wouldn't get caught. We had our own supply hidden away under my brother's mattress or somewhere.

Of course you couldn't fool Dad for very long. He was as sneaky as we were. One day he came up to us and asked where we had moved the stash to because he had run out. I guess every now and then he'd swipe one from us and replace it so he didn't get caught.

Anyway, I told Dad what happened and to expect a call and how she was likely to tell the entire town about it and make a big to-do about it.

To which dad asked me, "So? You did a good thing? What of it.........Oh. I got you. Don't worry. I'll fix it."

He had hardly finished when the phone rang. It was the kid's mother who prattled on at about Mach 4 about what a real hero I was.

Dan interrupted her and said, "And you're going to keep it a secret and tell nobody about it. Nobody. In fact let me speak to Dick."

After a few seconds I heard Dad speak to Dick. "Dick, you will instruct your wife to tell nobody and I mean NOBODY about what happened this afternoon. If she tells the world I can't control the outcome."

I only heard one side of the conversation. I didn't hear what Dick had to say.

"Most likely it will involve paint or possibly saws and I can't stop it short of outright murdering him. He's pretty upset over this. Just keep it under your hat," answered Dad.

I heard laughter on the other end and something unintelligible. Dad hung up, turned to me and said, "The fix is in."

Then he looked at me thoughtfully. "Hmmm....I guess we'd all be a lot better off if grownups didn't forget what it was like to be kids."

The other thing that comes to mind was the old widow that made wonderful pies. She was barely surviving on Social Security at the time and was pretty good to us kids. She made the best pies and once or twice near a Saturday we would put a couple of bags of apples, a pound of lard and a bag of flour at her doorstep, ring the bell and run off.

She'd generally leave a couple of pies on her window sill at about 3 in the afternoon on Saturday and we'd sneak up, take one and replace the pie plate with a reasonably identical pie plate of equal or greater value and run off to eat it somewhere. 

Come wintertime I would sometimes sneak out of the house in the wee hours of a snowy day and shovel her a path to the street so she could walk to the post office and get her mail. She was too old to be shoveling snow.

One night at about 3 AM dad caught me cold and demanded to know what was going on and I told him. He asked why I did this.

I told him she was good to us and I didn't want her to know because she would try to give me money and couldn't afford to. I asked him to keep quiet about it.

"More likely you just like being sneaky," he replied. "Go ahead, I won't let on."

A time or two later later I got nailed cold by the local cop. I was busy shoveling away and he saw movement, turned his lights off and quietly glided up alongside me as I was finishing up. Busted.

"So it's YOU!" he said. "I'd have never guessed it! I thought you'd only be up this early to steal hubcaps!"

He told me the woman had been asking around trying to find out who was shoveling her path. I told him not to say anything about it because she'd try and pay me and couldn't afford it. I told him if he squealed on me I'd never shovel her walk again.

"Young man! Are you trying to tell a police officer what to do?" he asked. He appeared to be somewhat amused.

"No, Officer," I replied. "I'm just telling you what I am going to do if you do squeal on me."

He laughed for a minute and said, "Can't have that happen! More than likely you don't want to get the business from your pals if they find out. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

 

He drove off chuckling. Ya gotta love those Old School cops. They don't make 'em like that anymore. Many of them had probably never finished high school but they just KNEW people, especially kids. Looking back on it he probably told a couple other cops. They shared a good laugh over it but never let on to anyone. 

A few years ago I came home to a freshly mowed lawn. I had been out of town for a couple of days. Curiosity got the best of me and I called the kid I have mow my lawn when I was at sea and he said he hadn't. He knew I was only out of town for a day or two and knew I'd get to it when I got home.

I discreetly enquired as to who he thought it may be and promised to keep it under my hat. He said he thought it might have been the redheaded kid down the street. I thought about it a minute.

A month or so earlier I saw the kid pushing his bicycle home with a flat tire. He was smart enough not to 'rim it' and ruin the tire.

I told him to put it in in the driveway and let me take a look at it. I took the wheel off, pulled the tire offand found the leak in the tube and patched it up, put it together and filled the tire and sent him on his way. The thanks and look of joy I got for about 20 minutes work was a great reward.

After the mysterious mowing job I made a mental note. The next time I saw the kid I gave him a wink and a nod and was treated to a grin. I quietly said, Thank you." and left it at that. I was rewarded with a big, sheepish grin. 

The whole thing is that that when someone does something out of the goodness of their heart then accept it and realize him or her had most likely done it simply because it is the right thing to do. Don't embarrass the kid by making a public spectacle out of it.

If you want to post WHAT the kid had done on line or even take out a billboard then have at it. Whatever you do, don't name him and  make a public spectacle of him and embarrass him  in front of his friends.

It's OK to quietly find the kid and thank them. You can reward them as you see fit. Give him a medal to hide in his sock drawer. Give him a big wad of cash. Buy him a new bicycle or a new car. Do whatever you see fit but don't make it public and embarrass them in front of their friends or they may very well turn on you.

There are a lot of fine young people out there that truly enjoy helping others and I daresay there are even more that would cheerfully help people out if more grownups knew how to play by the rules. You never embarrass or single a kid in front of his friends. Ever.

Always remember that the same kid that would cheerfully climb that big oak tree to rescue your cat is also capable of driving a couple copper spikes into the same tree if you embarrass him.

Don't ask me how I know about this. 

7777777777777777777777777777

Too many adults don't stop and think about this and even when I have pointed this out to them they insist on putting a kid's name and face into the limelight. 

Some often don't give a whit about the kid that's just helped them out. They just want to virtue signal and when that happens the kid that did them a favor winds up paying for it by getting a jacket pinned on them. Some adults do this out of pure selfishness to make them feel better about themselves.

 

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With apologies to Bud Abbott and Lou Costello

ABBOTT AND COSTELLO’S ‘WHO’S BEEN VACCINATED?’ 😆😆😆
Bud: ‘You can’t come in here!’
Lou: ‘Why not?’
Bud: ‘Well because you’re unvaccinated.’
Lou: ‘But I’m not sick.’
Bud: ‘It doesn’t matter.’
Lou: ‘Well, why does that guy get to go in?’
Bud: ‘Because he’s vaccinated.’
Lou: ‘But he’s sick!’
Bud: ‘It’s alright. Everyone in here is vaccinated.’
Lou: ‘Wait a minute. Are you saying everyone in there is vaccinated?’
Bud: ‘Yes.’
Lou: ‘So then why can’t I go in there if everyone is vaccinated?’
Bud: ‘Because you’ll make them sick.’
Lou: ‘How will I make them sick if I’m NOT sick and they’re vaccinated.’
Bud: ‘Because you’re unvaccinated.’
Lou: ‘But they’re vaccinated.’
Bud: ‘But they can still get sick.’
Lou: ‘So what the heck does the vaccine do?’
Bud: ‘It vaccinates.’
Lou: ‘So vaccinated people can’t spread covid?’
Bud: ‘Oh no. They can spread covid just as easily as an unvaccinated person.’
Lou: ‘I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. Look. I’m not sick.
Bud: ‘Ok.’
Lou: ‘And the guy you let in IS sick.’
Bud: ‘That’s right.’
Lou: ‘And everybody in there can still get sick even though they’re vaccinated.’
Bud: ‘Certainly.’
Lou: ‘So why can’t I go in again?’
Bud: ‘Because you’re unvaccinated.’
Lou: ‘I’m not asking who’s vaccinated or not!’
Bud: ‘I’m just telling you how it is.’
Lou: ‘Nevermind. I’ll just put on my mask.’
Bud: ‘That’s fine.’
Lou: ‘Now I can go in?’
Bud: ‘Absolutely not?’
Lou: ‘But I have a mask!’
Bud: ‘Doesn’t matter.’
Lou: ‘I was able to come in here yesterday with a mask.’
Bud: ‘I know.’
Lou: So why can’t I come in here today with a mask? ….If you say ‘because I’m unvaccinated’ again, I’ll break your arm.’
Bud: ‘Take it easy buddy.’
Lou: ‘So the mask is no good anymore.’
Bud: ‘No, it’s still good.’
Lou: ‘But I can’t come in?’
Bud: ‘Correct.’
Lou: ‘Why not?’
Bud: ‘Because you’re unvaccinated.’
Lou: ‘But the mask prevents the germs from getting out.’
Bud: ‘Yes, but people can still catch your germs.’
Lou: ‘But they’re all vaccinated.’
Bud: ‘Yes, but they can still get sick.’
Lou: ‘But I’m not sick!!’
Bud: ‘You can still get them sick.’
Lou: ‘So then masks don’t work!’
Bud: ‘Masks work quite well.’
Lou: ‘So how in the heck can I get vaccinated people sick if I’m not sick and masks work?’
Bud: ‘Third base.’
And...scene..

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Expect a book report soon.

I jusst got a copy of Smedley Butler's'War is a Racket' published in 1935ish. It's a very short book.

It's in the public domain now and reprints are available on eBay.

If you don't know who Smedley Butler is, here's a link. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smedley_Butler

Update. It is a very short book and well worth the time to read.

It's a short, but excellent read. Butler points out that war would go away if we made it unprofitable and I seriously do believe him.

In order to appreciate it truly one has to understand that a lot of the context of WW1 because he points out a lot of financial facts from WW1.

It you want to know why he used the data from WW1 instead of later wars you are a dumbass. It was written in 1935. Open a history book and figure it out.

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I just gave the galley sink a deep cleaning

which is a pain in the ass because it is white porcelein and takes stains easy. It's OK because I discovered a way to clean it easily. You use that blue toilet bowl cleaner and it like like new again.

Actually it's annoying as hell having a white porcelein sink. The standard is stainless steel and it is far easier to maintain. Women don't seem to understand that too well.

I make it easy but it wasn't all that long ago I had it hard before I discovered the blue powl cleaner.

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If Ya don't have it ya can't break it.

The other day I heard someone griping about having to get a power window fixed. When they asked me about it I replied I don't even have power windows. Both my vehicles are roll-ups.

I always wonder why people are so lazy that they can't turn a crank a couple of times to lower a window. Is it that difficult?

Actually power windows are slower. I think the reason people like them is that they are bright, shiny things so to speak. People tend to like bright shiny things that spin.

For decades I avoided A/C in a car but finally got it forced on me in '09. I didn't want it because it was just another thing to go wrong and break on me. I like things simple and the breeze of an open window is good enough for me. I figure that for two or three days a year of minor discomfort isn't too much to pay for the joy of simplicity.

Needless to say the A/C pump went out and I had to replace. That was the better part of a grand. I had it. It broke and it cost me a bundle to fix it. I don't know which is worse, the money or the aggravation.

One thing I have never had to get fixed is an automatic transmission because I have never had one. I have replaced clutches before but damned seldom and it's no big deal. By definition they are wearing parts to begin with.

It's kind of odd but if I were to win a big money lottery there would be two things I would do. I would find one of those California car shops and have the Miata, a '91, rebuilt to new condion.

The next big thing I would do is to have them recreate my '62 Dodge half-ton with a manual choke, a 4 speed manual transmission, no radio and holes in the floorboards to drop beer cans out of. This would be my daily driver.

The ONLY thing I would modernize on the Dodge would be electronic ignition so I don't have to screw with points.

Simplicity works for me.

 

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I am in Facebook jail again.

Back in the joint again. I just got out of Nextdoor jail after a 30 day stretch, probably for telling someone to look in the mirror if they want to see who to blame for their problem. Oh, boo hoo.

One thing about Facebook though. They point out one's sins and let you know what you said. Nextdoor doesn't.

My Facebook criminal record is pretty strange. Once I said the God looks out for drunken Irishmen (labeled Hate). The second was that some woman was condemning someone that defended themselves and I said that someone ought to beat her and see if she thinks it's OK to make them stop.

The third one makes little sense if any and was labeled as bullying. I listed my job as being a 'boat whore', a common industry term for people that work on the water. How is that bullying?

It's ridiculous. NONE of these are worth a time out, ESPECIALLY the one about drunken Irishmen. We Irish are not thin skinned pussies and are very self-depreciating by nature. We joke about OURSELVES.

I think the only thing one ought to get in trouble for on either of those two forums is obscenity and personal attacks and that's about it.

I do believe that if a computer geek wanted to REALLY make a name for himself he'd find a way to hack Facebook and spring all the convicts.

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"Why is that snake skin hanging in your garage," asked a visitor.

"Because I am saving it and accumulating all of the ingredients to make a potion to turn you into a lizard," I replied. "I already have toe of sloth and an eye of newt up in the freezer. I just need a couple more things."

Why do I have a snakeskin in the garage? Because I found it in the yard and I thought it was a cool thing to hang there. Why else would I have a snakeskin hanging in the garage?

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Well I got it done. The new phone is back on line.

I managed to recover all of my contacts or at least almost all of them.

What a pain in the ass that was! 

I'm glad it's behind me.

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Otterbox Defender in pink for the new phone.

Following pink I would have accepted that glowing green/yellow highway workers wear or maybe a really bright neon blue. Orange is too overused.

The last colors for a phone case in my world are lack and camoflauge is definitely out of the question. We are not at war and I'm not in the process of sneaking up on anyone.

What happens to a phone? 

It's always being put down somewhere like a counter, table, desk or whatever. A color like the ones I prefer is an eye catcher so when you want to pick the phone up a glance in the room will tell you where you put it. 

It's called making it easy for one's self.

The other advantage of pink I learned from Bic cigarette lighters. No psuedo tough guy would steal a pink one. Real tough guys don't give a $hit what color their lighter is.

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Warning to young people thinking of entering military service.

Our recent bailout of Afghanistan and the way we bailed out of Vietnam should be thought of very carefully before you sign your contract.

Look into it first.

There were two Marines in Corps history that were awarded the Medal of Honor twice. One was Dan Daly and the other was Smedley Butler.

Butler, a true hero, wrote about it after he retired. He wrote a book, War is a racket. 

Big money was not happy with a 6% return. They took it overseas where they could make 100%. The flag goes where the money goes and the soldiers follow that.

Butler came to believe he was nothing more than muscle for the big corporations. I can't say he was wrong. 

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One for the Vietnam and Vietnam Era veterans.

Thay are getting old and teenagers kick our crutches and walkers but it wasn't always that way.

Thay used to be able to walk down the street and have mothers pull thier children off the street and duck into someplace and admonish their children, "Stay away from him! He's a VIETNAM VETERAN! He might kill you!"

They got all sorts of bad press and while many denied their service, the old attitude of 'Embrace the suck' shone through and some embraced the fear and terror they drew.

It got pretty ridiculous, actually. For a while every halfway decent act of violence or major robbery that wasn't solved right off the bat, the media would venture a guess that the perp was a disgruntled Vietnam vet. This lasted all the way up to 2002. The last time I heard the media suggest a violent act might have been caused by a disgruntled Vietnam veteran was 2002 when the DC Beltway Sniper was running around.

Actually the GIs of that era took a lot of $hit from a very ungrateful American public. It was to the point where we were told NOT to wear uniforms off post. We could only drive home and maybe stop at a convenience store to pick up something and get gasoline. Other than that, we could not wear uniforms off post. 

I suppose if anyone could help our Afghanistan and Iraqi veterans it would probably be the Vietnam era guys.

I don't think the public is going to be anything but supportive of our Afghanistan/Iraq vets but the elected officials and upper flag officers have made their attitude crystal clear.

Incidentally the man that gave the military their pride back after the debacle of Vietnam was Ronald Reagan. He's also the president that started returning serviceman's salutes. If there's any interest in that story I'll post it here.

ETA Wampus Cat: Job opportunity. Some of our guys can use you. If you can, drop in on your local VA and offer to help.

 

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I got an email letter from the VA

It was about Afghanistan and how a lot of people are going to feel ripped off and cheated. One intelligent thing about it is it said that talking to Vietnam vets would probably be helpful and that made sense to me.

We got a lot of pretty torn up GIs that have given lives and limbs in Afghanistan. I just visited a grave a recently and left a penny. The grave was of a GI that was killed in Afghanistan.

The embassy left, it looked a lot like the evacuation of the Vietnamese Embassy when Saigon fell. A real get the hell out of there fast show. They fled. 

Joe Biden owns that one. He owes the family of every dead GI that was killed there and every amputeee that lost a limb there an explanation. 

If you served there and were injured you have every right whatsoever to feel like you were played as a sucker. Every right whatsoever.

I'm stopping this post here because I have a widow to go and visit. I'm pretty sure the doesn't like this, either.

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Too much college debt, and other reasons.

There's a younger guy I run into sometimes in my travels. One time he told me he had a date and was looking forward to it. 

The next time I ran into him I asked how it went. He said that he dropped her off after dinner and went home alone because she told him how much college debt she had. Can't say as I blame him.

I know of another guy that had a future bride that was offered either $50K for a wedding or $50K for a down payment on a house. The future ex-bride said she wanted the wedding. Did I say future ex-bride?

I sure did. He dropped her like a stone right then and there. Can't say as I blame him and the girl's father sided with his future ex-son-in-law.

One of the guys I know told me about Joe's short lived marriage. It only lasted a few months. The couple decided they needed a new car and figured out how much to spend. He let her choose and there was a cap on how much they would pay.

She ordered a car that was well over twice the price that they had agreed on. He decided then and there he was not going to spend the rest of his life dealing with that kind of idiocy so he ejected then and there.

Can't say as I blame any of these guys.

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Deleted post

Because I did some digging and discovered I had been given some had information.

That is all.

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Yeasterady was a real pain in the ass.

My cell phone died but I did get lucky. I was able to import my contact list which was 99% of the battle. The Old S-5 is dead and replaced with an A-12. I'm running with Samsung as I am not an Apple guy.

I'm also not a big money technology chaser, either. I see no need for a $1200 telephone when I can get by with one for about $125 or so.

Still, having to change phones is not a good day. I wish the old S-5 had lasted a couple more months because I had plans for it.

I was going to throw it over the side on the last time I walked down the gangway to retire.

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I see where the complainers that be

Are asking white people not to get vaccinated because they are using white privilige to keep people of color from getting vaccinated.

Apparently the vax rates of people of color is lower than that of whites.

Guess what? It's a lifestyle choice. Practically every pharmacy in the country is giving the vaccine out to those that want it absolutely free.

Get over it. It doesn't matter who you are, if you have not been vaccinated it is your own damned fault.

When I was in Walmart yesterday they said there was no waiting at the pharmacy for the vaccine over the PA several times. They didn't specify race, color, or anything else. The vaccine was free to everyone that wanted it.

I'm tired of the bull$hit coming from the BLM people and other leftists. If you're going to lie about something and say you have been cheated, at least have the brains to find something believeable to lie about.

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A trick I figured out for Social Security forms.

The electronic and the mail-in forms are pretty much the same thing.

Get the mail-in application on PDF and print it. 

Now you can take your time and use to get squared away. It makes a good work sheet to gather everything. You'll see what you need for example copies of marriage and divorce decrees, yours AND your spouses marriage certificates, and various other things.

A married man needs at least the following:

His and hers birth certificates

His and hers SS cards. 

His and hers Social Security cards. If you lost yours better go get one.

Vets should have a DD 214 if they served between certain dates.

Once you have everything filled out on paper you can copy it to the electronic application. It makes things easier in the long run.

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I see where Governor Cuomo of NY is resigning.

Good riddance.

He should have been tarred and feathered years ago.

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I just finished 'The Sand Pebbles'

I bought it for a buck on line, used and decided on it to compare it to the movie Steve McQueen was in back in the day.

The guy that wrote it, McKenna, had served in China in the 30s so he had a pretty good idea of what he was talking about.

The book had a lot more in it than they could cram into a movie and the movie was a complete rewrite. 

I met an old guy back in the 70s that had been a China Sailor and he had retired there and (like most sailors that retired there) opened a bar. He married a Chinese woman and had a couple of kids by the time the Japanese came in and he managed to escape with his family.

It took him quite a while to get to the States and he had a hard time getting his wife and kids into the country but finagled it somehow. He was accepted back into service and worked in a shipyard for the duration. His wife also worked in a defense plant of some sort for the duration. Interesting couple.

He had been a brown water Navy man on a gunboat in China.

Anyway, the book was a pretty good read.

Interested in reading it? Let me know somehow.

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I just met a classmate on line.

and what is interesting is that in our four years at school we spoke probably two words, at least that I can remember. We both said "Hi." to each other. When I found out her maiden name I remembered her face well. She was a very pretty girl with a beautiful warm smile that was a bit on the shy side. She was really quite a looker.

What is kind of sad is I would not have remembered this if it had not been for the fallout. I would be surprised if she remembered the incident. It really was a basic hello, a simple acknowlegement of someone else's existence. It was barely one step above a stranger waving as they drove past you.

Now I was the oldest of the generation much less the family and grew up Catholic. My mother had big plans for me. She pictured I'd marry a good Catholic girl who had a father that ran a major corporation and I'd become an overnight big shot by marrying the bosses daughter who I would keep pregnant for all of her childbearing years and give her a busload of grandkids. GoodCatholicgirl was one word to her.

Of course, I had other plans. I was looking for adventure and eventually found it but I digress. 

Where were we? Oh, yeah. 

Mom and I were making a hardware run for dad who was fixing some damned thing or another and Mom and I were downtown and my classmate walked by. Unless I don't remember this is the only time I passed her outside of her being a part of the mob in the hallway between classes. 

I said "Hi." to her and she warmly smiled and said "Hello." as we passed each other. It was nothing more than basic civility, the era of which seems so far away and long ago.

As soon as she was out of earshot that started the game. Mom was trying to see if someone was a Catholic and what their father did, and I was not going to admit that there was one single Catholic in my entire school, nor did any of their father's have a decent job of any sort.

It was the unbending force against the unyielding object.

"Oooh, Piccolo, she's a real looker. Is she a GoodCatholicgirl?"

"No, Ma. They're Copetic Christian."

"What's that?"

"It's a form of very basic Christianity that originated in Ethiopia."

"Oh....what doees her father do?"

"He's in prison for 25 years."

"That's awful! What did he do?"

"He murdered a woman that kept asking her son too many nosy questions about his daughter."

"That's terrib....THAT'S NOT FUNNY!"

Of course she told Dad who later heard my side of it and realized the antagonism was not going to stop and shook his head.

"Kid," he said. "You don't have a father! You have a referee!"

He took a sip of beer that suddenly came out his nose. "Murdered a woman that kept asking her son too many nosy questions about his daughter, Huh? Well, at least this time you didn't pinch your grandmother's cheek at a funeral and say "You're next!"

"She had that one coming. She started it at a wedding."

He exhaled audibly. "Yeah, she did...but dammit!"

There were others. I can remember telling mom one classmate was Estemenian and her father was a swineherd in Tibet. Another classmate was of Italian extration and had olive skin. I passed her off as a Muslim Arab of some sort. I forgot what I said about her father but I'm sure it was a corker.

For what it's worth I have Googled the word 'Estemenian' recently and it only goes back to where I have used it in my writings on line.

  

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I threw it away.

I don't know where my vaccine passport is and I don't care. I very well might have thrown it out which is fine by me. I tossed it into a pile of papers and have probably tossed it by now. 

When we get to the point where the Secret Police start with the "Papers, please." crap then I guess I'm just packing it in because I don't want to live that way.

I suppose if I get asked for them I'm just going to say that I threw it away. I'm not going to say my wallet is in my other pants or I lost it or it's at home. 

I'm simply going to say that I threw it away.

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Back from the Nationals.

Covid cancelled the Nationals last year and it changed a lot. Continuity had a lot to do with it. So did the changes in the way the match is conducted, even though they made sense.

I ran into a number of old friends as usual.

I did meet a couple of people face to face that I have only met through the internet and I had an excellent dinner with one of them.

I think it's going to take another years or two before things get back to normal.

                                                          

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I fired up the rig and started calling CQ and a Brit answered.

Right after we traded callsigns and signal reports I said to him, "We've been trying to reach you to talk about your car's warranty."

I thought he was going to die laughing. Apparently they have it in the UK.

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I think I threw my vaccine passport out while cleaning things up a while back.

 

which really doesn't bother me too much because I don't think I am going to play the 'Papers, please' game.

When it gets to the point where people are demanding to see my vaccine card I'm just going to have to tell them I threw it out.

It ought to be interesting to see them wonder what to do when they hear that.

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Covid has very little to do with the disease. It's all about politics and I hate it.

There in no source whatsoever that I trust other than one or two people and they admit that they are not really very much in the know.

Right now it's all rumors, stories, conjectures and whatever tales of woe someone can either make a buck or gain power from. I'm tired of it all.

Biden is screaming at us to get vaxxed now because he can get the credit for the vax rushed through by Trump. On the other hand, if people that get the vaccine start dropping like flies he gets to pin it on Trump. It's all a political game. It has nothing at all to do with the health and well being of the people and everything to do with money and power.

Vax, don't vax, your choice and I can't say I hold it against you either way. It's politics and NOT science. In order to make a decision you have to figure it out for yourself. You don't know who is lying about what.

Before the election when Trump got the ball rolling and let the vaccine be developed and released even though it was and as of now still remains experimental Biden and Harris were both telling peopleit wasn't safe. It's still considered experimental and therefore it isn't safe according to the FDA.

Yet Biden and Harris are trying to strong arm the rest of the public to take it before it's approved. I can't say as I blame people for not wanting an unapproved substance in their body. I'll be damned if I'm going to coerce anyone into that doesn't want the damned thing.

I hear a lot of people blaming the unvaxxed people for ruining things but I'm really not so sure because I have heard other places that vaxxed people can be spreaders. It wouldn't surprise me either way so as far as I am concerned the unvaxxed have every right to complain about the vaxxed ruining things.

Of course I am hearing all sorts of things and the need for a booster shot keeps coming up more and more. 

I have also read a few sob sister stories of unvaxxed people dying in hospitals begging for the shot and being told it's too late. In the background they hear a guy pushing a cart shouting "Bring out your dead!" I question these because they all sound like they have been written by the same person with the same format. It seems to be agenda driven.

I've also heard of people in their death rattle being cured miraculously with Ivermectin and/or HCQ. Three days later they are released from the hospital to go off to run the Kentucky Derby or something. (Hey, it's used for horses so why not?) If so than any physician that doesn't use it is guilty of negligence and deserves to have his license yanked.

The logic of the antivaxxers makes sense when you think about it. It's unapproved, it doesn't prevent the disease and if it was really the right thing to do it would not require a booster. 

The vaxxers claim that although you can still contract the disease you won't get hit as hard and require hospitalization. The antis claim the majority of the hospitalized cases have had the vaccination. I have seen no trustworthy evidence either way. None.

It's always "I heard." or "somebody said." OR it's from the mainstream media and I do not believe them at all.

If course this lets people feed on their fears and I know a lot of people on both sides that are in hysteria over the damned thing and there's nothing you can do to settle these people down. Some people waving vaccine passports while wearing six masks shreiking at non vaccinated people and antivaxxers are shouting back. Both sides are blaming each other for the spread of the disease. 

It's doing a wonderful job of pulling us apart while the Swamp sneaks God only knows what past us. The divisiveness works in their favor. We're too busy fighting among ourselves.

Like just about everything else that comes down the pike it's all about money and power. Don't let your fears run your life.

It it real? I believe the disease is real. I also believe it can be fatal in a small number of cases but it's not the Bubonic Plague some people think it is. Don't believe everything you hear, either. BOTH sides lie through their teeth. Settle down and take your own counsel. It's really all you can do.

As for the Delta varient? I just heard that in the UK they are  saying it spreads a lot faster but it is weaker then the original. Some people are beginning to say that this is a sign that it is dying out. While plausable, I'm not betting on it because I simply do not trust anyone to give me the honset information.

In other news I read where murders in Washington DC outnumber Coronavirus deaths by almost 3:1. I can easily believe that knowing Washington DC.

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