Another one walks away pissed off.

Someone was babbling about Roe vs Wade.

I pointed out that the feds have no say in the matter EITHER WAY and that's what the recent decision was all about. They just passed  it back to where it belonged in the first place, they passed the decision back to the states or the individual if the state didn't pick up the ball.

"Yeah, but that was a Constitutional right!" he said.

"Read the directions," I shot back. "Get a copy of the Constitution, read it carefully and find in it anywhere where abortion is even mentioned. Then go to the Bill of Rights which are the first ten amendments and pay very close attention to the 10th Amendment where it says "The powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people." That INCLUDES abortion which is NOT even mentioned in the Constitution.

"Yeah, but...."

"But nothing. READ THE DIRECTIONS! This means YOU!"

The directions laid out by the Founding Fathers are a damned sight easier to understand than the directions you get with an IKEA dresser and most people can put one off those together. 

Come to think of it, as far as I am concerned they ought to throw out Miranda cards because it is the duty of every citizen to understand their rights. If you are too stupid to than it's on you.

Then again maybe things would be a little nicer if we did throw out Miranda because thugs are generally stupid and would rat themselves out a little more often and we'd go a ways more to cleaning up the streets. Being advised of one's rights by a policeman is NOT mentioned in the Constitution, either!

Here's a copy of the directions for anyone that wants it.

The directions.

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OK, Congress. You passed your little gun control thing.

Now let's see how many people obey it.

In fact, let's see how many state and local policemen enforce it.

There are a couple of good tests out there that tell how good a law is.

One is not how it will be used, but how it will be abused. This one seems like thare is a lot of opportunity in it for abuse. 

That doesn't speak very highly for it. It will likely be abused by any number of scared Karens that simply want Joe Citizen to have his 2nd Amendment rights taken away from him. 

There's no penalty in it for falsly reporting someone. Karen can run around making all sorts of false accusations and get off scott free when she really belongs in Hard Time prision for at least five years for denying an American citizen a basic Constitutional right. 

Another true test of a law is how many people obey it. You'll have any number of people simply ignore it and refuse to comply.

On top of that there are going to be a goodly number of policemen that will simply not enforce it. I have read several dozen comments by serving policemen that commented on searches. They would simply knock on someone's door and when the homeowner answers they would say, "What? No guns here? Have a nice day." and leave.

Of course some of the younger black glove hot dog types will be thrilled to obey the sergeant or lieutenant looking to further his career at the expense of anyone else but the average cop will  not be very thrilled to enforce whaat is clearly unconstitutional.

Then again there's a chance that SCOTUS will throw some if not all of it out.

As for me? I don't have anything to worry about because I lost all of my guns in a tragic boating accident.

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Hello, Kitty. My fairly new backpack.

Which I picked up for about fifteen bucks delivered on eBay.

I needed one the right size to use as a 'personal item' while flying. It's the perfect size and can fly as a personal item on just about any airline. It fits perfectly under the seat.

In reality it's basically a lunch box as these days I refuse to pay French Chef prices for dog food at the airports. I just bring along something prepared. I'd actually toss in a couple of MREs if I could get them easily. I'm really not too picky when I travel.

I was shopping on eBay for the right sized pack and saw that one, laughed and decided to take a look at it. The description said 'well made' so I looked at the pictures carefully and the blow-ups told me that it probably was well made. It was new, with tags.

When it arrived I was surprised to find out how well made it really is. It's quite a solid, well made backpack which is somewhat surprising in this day and throwaway age.

The fact that it was pink made me grin but the kitty on it is what sold me. Ain't no fake tough guy gonna steal that one and real tough guys know better than to try.

I do have a few pink items. My cell phone case is pink because it's easy to spot. I can put it down in a room and locate it with a glance. A lot of the guys with tacticool camoflage cell covers have to have their buddies call their number and make them ring to find their phones. I don't have that headache. I just glance around.

Years ago when I smoked Camel cigarettes I started using pink Bic lighters because when I was hanging out at the bar and put my smokes and lighter on the plank nobody would steal it. Even if someone did I could spot it and retrieve the damned thing. Actually nobody ever did swipe one from me.

Actually my pechant for pink stuff I've only had one or two people bring anything negative into it over the years. The first incident was someone trying to impress his son. I left him totally humiliated and embarrassed in front of his son. I later ran into his kid who told me what an embarrassment his father is to him. It was really kind of sad.

"Maybe you like your women flat chested with a small boy's butt so you can fanticize whatever twisted fetish you have, but I like a good, healthy bosom. I wear this for breast cancer awareness. You got a problem with that? If you do, I'm quite willing to go the whole mile."

He caved instantly.

At the airport gate some woman saw my pack and laughed and told me it was quite trendy and asked if it was a gift from one of my kids. I said it was just to make her go away as I was getting ready to board.

Still, it's a well made pack and is the perfect size and fits my needs to a T.

Besides, it's cute.

 

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Clarence Thomas, who I happen to adore

said that gay marriage could become another issue coming down the pike.

I don't think that it will be marriage itself but the fact that every state has to recognize it. Again, people will scream that SCOTUS wants to outlaw gay marriage and as usual it's a smoke screeen. SCOTUS would likely simply throw it back to the individual states to decide.

A few years back SCOTUS said all states have to recognize same sex marriages performed in other states.

I have always held with marriage being a religious thing to begin with. If two people want to get married then go find a member of the appropriate clergy willing to perform the ceremony and have at it.

If one clergyman is unwilling to perform the ceremony then find one who will.

As far as the state goes, I don't think they should be in the marriage business. What they should be doing is performing civil unions for any two beings that want to be civilly united.

When same sex unions (of any kind) came up years ago I was not a supporter until someone pointed out that everyone should have the right to pass on their goods and garbage to someone else without government interference. Spot on.

Besides, gays have the right to be just as miserable as the rest of us.

Still, the fact remains that marriage of any sort is more of a state issue than a federal one. Marriage isn't mentioned in the Constitution therefore the 10th Amendment applies here. This is strictly a state issue.

Actually the Gospel According to Piccolo says that whoever someone chooses to marry or civilly unite with is none of my business because it doesn't break my leg, pick my pocket or rob me of my God given rights.

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

The other thing that the left is screeching about is that SCOTUS has overturned Roe vs Wade. By doing that SCOTUS has not banned abortion whatsoever. There is no federal level ban on abortion whatsoever. None.

In fact the federal government simply relinquished control of abortion. They have no say in it whatsoever. Nothing!

Of course all sorts of screeching women are up in arms because they do not know what happened because none of them have ever read the Constitution or if they have it has not sunk in.

Roe vs Wade was a ruling made over a state issue and SCOTUS never should have heard the case to begin with. 

Of course women are screaming that they are losing a Constitutional right which they never had at any time. While they had a legal right, they never had a Constitutional right and there's a very big difference. Nowhere in the Constitution is abortion ever even mentioned. The 10th Amendment applies here and that says that anything not in the Constitution itself is reserved for the states and the people, respectively.

That being said, abortion is a state issue and should be treated as such. As it looks now, some states will outlaw it in various degrees but other states won't and it looks like places like NJ, NY and CA will probably be hosting abortion junkets to their states. 

I can picture an abortion junket in a van to, say, NJ. "Hey, Janie! I see ya got knocked up again! Nice seeing you again! How ya doin'?"

What irks me the most is that how many Americans have never even bothered to read their Constitution and understand how things work.

There's no 'Well, I feel' about it. The way the federal government works is laid out in black and white and is written simply enough that anyone with a 6th grade education can read it and understand it or at least figure it out.

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

One other thing.

Has anyone bothered to look at pictures of the woman that are protesting this? I have and the women that are carrying signs saying that until abortion is legal thay won't have sex with men.

Interesting how practically all of those women threatening not to have sex are the ones you wouldn't want to be caught dead waking up next to.

Who even wants to have sex with most of them? I sure wouldn't. Most of those women are just plain nasty!

The term 'Coyote ugly' comes to mind. Many of them are double coyote ugly!

Most men know what coyote ugly is. If you don't look it up in the urban dictionary. 

Double coyote ugly is when you gnaw your remaining arm off because you know she'll be looking for a one armed man!

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

I just read where the Texas GOP wants to declare homosexuality an abnormal lifestyle.

I suppose in a way it is. It's different than the norm. So what? Then again, when was the last time a gay broke your leg, picked your pocket or tried to strip you of your God given rights?

How about if you simply leave the gays alone?

Republicans. Snatching defeat from the jaws of victory as usual. 

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Today's (6/25/2022) Google subject is Anne Frank

who I sometimes refer to in dealing with people that babble about being 'law abiding citizens', something of which I am NOT.

While I am not a criminal, I am most definitely an OUTLAW. Maybe more on this later. I once got stopped on the PA turnpike for driving too slow.  It was during an ice storm and people were whizzing past me at the speed limit which, if I recall was abput 65 at the time. I was in the breakdown lane so as to not impede the rest of the dumbasses.

He asked me why I was going so slow and I replied, "Because everyone else is stupid. The road is sheet ice. You're going to get very busy very soon."

He said, "God bless you! I wish we had more like you." He also advised me to stay in the break down lane so as to avoid the idiots.

Then he had to run because someone had slid off the road or something. Shortly afterwards I watched someone clobber a bridge abutment but that's anothe story.

Over the years I have shared my attitude with numerous working police officers and any with a few brains, which is to say most of them, are good with it. I steer clear of supervisors who are, for the most part, political animals.

Back to Anne Frank. I use the case of Anne Frank as slam dunk proof that just because something is legal doesn't make it right and that just because something illegal doesn't make it wrong.

At the time it was totally illegal to harbor a Jew. The people that harbored her were in fact by law criminals. Jews were to be reported to the authorities. The person that ratted her out to the Gestapo were in fact by law acting as law abiding citizens. 

Over the years I've had to listen to the do-gooders babble about how it's wrong to break the law. When I tell them "You'd have ratted out Anne Frank, huh?" they give me the deer in the headlights look or a knee jerk statement that they wouldn't have. They don't know what to say when I point out that law abiding citizens ratted her out.

Truthfully in my opinion most laws are made for idiots and irresponsible people. Someone should not need to be told to drive slowly through a residential plan. Responsible people should know that it isn't safe to use a half-acre lot in a densly populated residential neighborhood as a rifle range. On the other hand, a BB gun range in a basement endangers nobody.  (I imagine someone would complain about it if they got wind of such a thing.)

I think most people want to do the right thing. The problem with a lot of them is they simply do not know what the right thing is. They think they need to be told and I suppose the truth is a lot of them do need to be told what to do. Laws provide them with some semblence of a guide.

Of course that leads to two problems, lawmakers with an agenda and those that blindly follow.

The Franks actually lasted quite a while before they got ratted out to the Gestapo. In this day and age in a suburban residential neighborhood they full of modern day Karens the Franks would not have lasted a week.

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The pink feather boa.

For well over a year, almost two there was a pink feather boa hanging on a coat hook on the bulkhead that you would face as you entered the barge's living quarters. 

It appeared there mysteriously and then later went back to where it came from. While I do know where it came from, I am still not letting the cat out of the bag. 

Anyway, the other crewman came aboard, saw it and asked me 'What's with the pink feather boa?"

"I dunno. I the other musta crew left it," I replied. "Leave it."

He shrugged and trundled down the steps into the galley.

Several hours later we were tied up at a customer's dock. The dock man and gauger came aboard and came into the galley/office. On the way down both of them saw the boa and both of them asked about it.

I shrugged and said that it had probably been left there by the other crew.

For the remainer of the tour practically everyone that entered the boat asked about the damned thing and we said the same thing. The other crew left it. When the tour was over I went home and took my time off. 

A couple of days afer I returned we were getting ready to discharge. The dockman came in, saw the boa and said to us, "The other crew says YOU guys left it!"

I shrugged. "Whatever," I said. "Maybe one of the tug guys sneaked it in here to start $hit. Who knows?"

Everyone that saw it for the first time asked about it and over time it simply became a part of the woodwork. Supervisors who at first asked about it simply paid it no mind when they visited.

It had been there for about a year when one of the dockmen came in to do paperwork and asked if he could borrow it.

"Only if you promise to use it to cause someone heartburn, grief and discontentment," I said. "Perhaps embarrass a supervisor or something along those lines."

"Something like that," he said.

When I returned and came aboard I saw the boa back in its place and mentioned that to my relief. He laughed. "Jim returned it," he said.

"Larry borrowed it. What happened?" I asked.

He laughed. "Larry borrowed it and was seen by his supervisor wearing it. He passed it onto Dave who was seen wearing it. Dave passed it on and most of the dock guys were seen wearing it. They made it look like practically everyone was wearing a boa. They told the bosses they were wearing it to keep their necks warm because the company stopped issuing those company scarfs."

Being January it made sense. It was a really cold winter at the time.

That wasn't the first time I saw that old movie Indian trick being used. I saw it pulled with a Shell Oil baseball cap once but that's another story. I knew exactly what had happened.

"What happened?" I asked.

"The company started issuing scarfs again," he laughed. 

The boa stayed in place for a few months before if finally just disappeared one day. I didn't bother looking for it. 

 

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Bunny slippers

Back when I was new in the business I got sent to work with one of he company characters and he taught me a lot. he was extremely talented and was patient and liked to teach. I became his student and attribute a lot to him.

When I started in the business there were a lot of interesting individuals out here and the world had a sense of humor. My mentor, Don, had a sort of trademark when he either loaded or discharged at a certain customer's dock. It was expected of him and he wore his trademark.

My trademark for several years was a grubby captain's hat with a 'Space Cadet' patch on it, from the old TV series 'Tom Corbett, Space Cadet'. Later on it became a grubby WW2 German U-boat skipper had with the swastika removed. Don's trademark only to be worn at one certain customer's dock (Acme) was a pair of pink bunny slippers.

Anyway one fine evening we pulled into the Acme dock and I got the discharge and Don finished it and sailed the barge. He woke me a little early and said we were headed to the office because someone wanted to talk to us. Fifteen minutes later we were tied up at the office and Don headed to the building. I followed a few minutes later and just as Don was entering the door I realized he had forgotten to take off his bunny slippers.

Then I realized I was still wearing my Space Cadet hat but figured why not? The office probably had a question or two regarding the cargo. It was probably no big thing. I sped up.

I went in behind Don by about half a minute to see my port captain and port engineer beet red as some guy standing there was laughing himself silly. As I wandered in the man took a step forward and read the patch on my hat. He chuckled and shook his head. "Bunny slippers!" he said. He looked at my port captain and said, "Why am I not surprised?" and the port captain turned redder.

The port captain introduced us to the man who turned out to be the customer that owned the oil we had been moving around for the past two and a half weeks! His name was Mike. This was a first for either of us. Neither of us had ever met the customer before. It was only going to happen one time again years later but I'll tell that story later.

Mike's last name was not Texaco. Nor was it Shell, BritishPetroleum, Chevron or Exxon. He was simply a small time broker/ speculator of some sort that seems to live on the fringe of the big companies. He had bought and resold 150,000 barrels of home heating oil and resold it at a tidy profit of some sort. Speculation in heating oil was somewhat common in the fall months. The speculator was gambling it would be a hard winter and the price would go up. 

Mike turned to my port captain and said, "Whenever I can, I like to take the guys that do the actual work to lunch. Can I borrow them?"

The port captain could hardly refuse and the three of us walked out together. The first thing Mike asked is where we could get a good steak dinner and we went to a place a few miles away. It was a nice place I had been to before--but not in coveralls. Don still had his bunny slippers on and the a couple of people looked at them with amused looks on their faces as we walked by. I still had my hat on. I did take it off at the table, though.

We had a great dinner for lunch and  Mike was funny as hell. He said, "When I was a kid I decided I wanted to be a big shot. I got about halfway there but realized if I became a big shot I wouldn't have time to go fishin' so I decided to stay a medium shot. I got more than I need and still find time to fish."

Afterwards when we got outside Mike opened his trunk and handed us a purple box each and told us to quietly put it in our vehicles when we got back. The boxes held bottles of Crown Royal.  "Put it in your trunk when we get back and leave it there. I don't want to get you guys into any trouble. There's also a little something in the bag so don't throw it out."

When we arrived we hid our goods and Mike headed upstairs. Don and I headed back to the boat. An hour or so later we sailed and tied up for a couple of days to another company holding where we sat for two more days and changed crews.

When I got home I opened the box, pulled the bottle out and looked in the bag. In it was a crisp picture of Ben Franklin.

Things like this happened to me only twice in my career. Incidentally over the years I have only been gifted liquor a couple of times and not once when I was on board or headed out to the boat. It has always been done when I was leaving for home. 

The other time was when we went on a fairly long term contract moving oil for an outfit in New England.

The person responsible for contracting us was named Judy and I don't recall her title. She apparently the person that was also responsible for scheduling us. Of course, she would go through the office who would give us our orders but sometimes she would call the barge direct to see how we were doing. She actually cared about us as people which is rare in any business. 

When we would go to the main terminal where her office was she would sometimes come down to the dock and visit us. We had her on board a couple of times and in a dress and heels she swarmed up the ladder like a cat and negotiated obstacle course we call a deck rather  gracefully. 

It should be carefully noted she waas not some kind of 'Tugboat Annie' type, but a professional lady.

She was one of those rare women that men instinctively trust.

We knew she had 'put the fix in' because quite often when we'd arrive at the dock of one of their terminals the dockman would hand us a dozen doughnuts or a pie or something 'from Judy' and a couple times we got a bunch of lobsters. One Christmas eve she sent us some great steaks and a cheesecake.

She also understood our careers and would somewhat often mention to the office that 'her guys' were doing a great job. The office was thrilled to hear we were getting along with the customer. We got a lot of attaboys from them.

A couple of times she would call and ask us and ask us some questions regarding cargo changes and if something or another could be done safely. I never heard her say anything about the delays occasionally caused by the New England winter weather. Not once did she ever complain about the delay was if we got stormed in somewhere.

She cared about us. In return we her our best.

At no time in my career did I ever expect to get anything more than a paycheck. Things like steak dinners, bottles of booze, regular baked goods were really not what I expected and although I was damned grateful for everything above and beyond my paycheck. 

 

Still, between that and a few other things that happened it was enough to at least me wondering what was going to happen next.

I ought to do a piece on Rumor Control. 

 

 

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Ahh, yes. Publications I have quoted over the years

In my never ending battles with the stupid and the gullible from time to time I quote various things from various sources.

If you can quote something official sounding with great authority you can generally get someone gullible to believe it.

I have quoted things like 'The Suburban Dwellers Guide' published by the government printing office. I told someone that according to the Suburban Dwellers Guide on chapter 4, Lawns, it says specifically on Section C, Animal messes on lawns on Article 2 Amendment B-4 that the proper tool for preventing animal messes on front lawns is the Daisy Red Ryder BB gun. Under no circumstances is the animal to be shot at. The animal is not responsible.  However, the owner of said animal may be shot in the posterior to instill respect for his neighbors property.

I posted that on Nextdoor and was surprised how many Karens wanted to know where to buy a copy.

Over the years I have quoted any number of imaginary publications. Here's a partial list.

Complete Guide to Auto Theft and Basic Chop Shop Operations.

Advanced Prostitution for Housewives, work from home! (By Freda B. Layd)

The Suburban Dwellers Guide, (US printing office, 2021 revision.)

The Rules: Illegal Street Racing.

Entry Level Guide to Vandalism.

Guidebook for Street Hookers.

The Professional Guide for Stealing cars.

Rules for Street Level Drug Dealers. (Cartel Press, 2020 edition)

Handbook for Rats, Stoolies and Snitches. (US Department of Justice, 2019 edition with 2021 updated appendix)

Basic Pole Dancing.

Snitches get Stitches. (Cartel Press, third revision, 2021)

Burn it down! The Arsonist's Handbook. 

Advanced Guide for Strippers. 

Slim Red's Guide to Pimping.

Why work? A Complete Guide to Insurance Fraud. 

Introduction to Smuggling Narcotics, Maritime Edition.

Take Them to the Cleaners, a guide for professional con men.

Moonshining A to Z. A guide for to getting caught by the revenuers.

Making it Up as You Go Along, the bullshitter's handbook.

And one I stole from the late great Dr. Hunter S. Thompson, 'The Gouger's Handbook'.

Just to name a few.

A couple of months ago one of the guys reminded me of the time some woman toasted on mood elevators or maybe cocaine told me at a barbecue about wanting to get a breast augmentation.

I told her there was a chapter in 'Advanced Guide for Strippers', chapter six, Breast Augmentation. I told her that a couple cosmetic surgeons mentioned in the book could fix her up so that if she put on a tight sweater she'd look like Mamie Van Doren in her prime without having to wear an uncomfortable bullet bra.  

She promptly pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and carefully wrote the title down!

A couple of July 4ths ago someone asked me how to set up a Fourth of July bonfire. (Duh!) I told him the excellent instructions are to be found in the training exercise chapter ot 'Burn it down! The Arsonist's Handbook.' He said he'd have the local library pick it up for him at the Andrew Carnegie library downtown.

It is truly amazing how people won't question a source if you can quote it smoothly and with great authority like you know what you are talking about.

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A swashbuckler makes a crew change.

The story you are going to read is true. The names have been changed to protect both the innocent as well as the guilty. 

Anyway, we were running the northeast coast in the mid 90s when crew change came up. If I recall the tug wasn't changing, just the accompanying barge of which I was the mate of a crew of two. It was calculated we would change underway in the Cape Cod Canal. 

We were loaded carrying a cargo headed for Portland, Maine and because we were loaded the Commonwealth of Massachusetts said we were supposed to have an escort tug.

The company made arangements with the tug to do the crew change. They would bring the oncoming crew aboard, escort us through the canal and bring the offgoing crew ashore to their pier after they dropped us off in tht Boston side of the canal.

Now Captain Lefty lived about ten minutes from a certain spot on the canal and had worked something like nine weeks back to back. He was pretty much going crazy to get off for his well earned three weeks off. Lefty knew the canal like the back of his hand. He knew where all the cameras along it were and what is more important, he knew where the blind spots were.

I'm sure there are damned few if any blind spots left anymore. This was about 25 years ago and the technology, while not quite in its infancy, wasn't fully grown yet.

Anyway, Lefty had done his homework and packed what little he was taking home with him. It had already been packaged in several layers of trash bag and duct tape. Besides providing a waterproofing for his goods and garbage, the package would provide bouyancy if he needed it which was not likely. Lefty was a powerful swimmer.

Anyway, when we got to Lefty's blind spot he threw his package over the side and went in after it. In a surprisingly short time I saw Lefty through binoculars climbing up the rip rap stones along the side of the canal and the last I saw of him was what appeared to be him above the rip rap putting his pants on.

The tug crew was unaware, the escort tug policy was one of total blindness. They saw nothing and the three of us on the barge kept it under our hats. Lefty got clean away with it.

Had he been caught he most likely would have been arrested and fired.

Three weeks later I sailed another tour with him and we laughed about it. 

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One crew change far away and long ago.

I had just gotten off the boat and was due for three weeks off when I got grabbed for something. It was a simple task, lasting no longer than 48 hours so I accepted it.

This was early on in my career and I had a new Port Captain that was trying to make a name for himself. He proved to be the bane of my existence for quite some time until I bid onto another vessel and got out from under him.

Anyway, the company had just sold a tired, worn out barge and the OPA 90 regs had condemned it so they sold it off to some outfit in South America where it would be put to work most likely until it finally sunk. The agreement was that it be delivered to a place in Virginia. I was to ride the barge to Virginia and come back to Municipal Pier in Philly. Pretty straightforward deal. I'd get a couple of days pay for taking a boat ride. I'd get a flight back.

I dumped my seabag into the bed of the pickup, grabbed a few things, slammed the capper lid, hopped on the barge and an hour later we were underway. It was an uneventful ride to Norfolk. 

We tied up at the dock where the tug taking her to South America would take her to her new home. The tug skipper handed my an envelope that was supposed to have my airline voucher in it. It didn't. It had a bus ticket that was supposed to leave in about 12 hours from then. I was livid!

Then I looked at the ticket carefully. Not only was it a bus ticket but it was a real drugstore run with stops in every little village and burg between Norfolk and Philly. What would normally be a 5-6 hour drive was going to take something like 16 hours!

Needless to say I was not a happy camper. I had done a favor and been repaid by being backstabbed. I looked at the dockman on the pier. "Looks like I have to hitch hike to Philly," I said. He was aghast.

"Hitchhike!? To Philly? That's four states away!" he was shocked. He looked at my ticket and was stunned. He thought a minute. "Let me see if we can do better than that." He asked me my name, went into the dock shack and made a call. When he came out he was grinning. "Jimmy's headed to New York. He knows where you are headed and said he can drop you off at the door. He leaves in about a half-hour. I have a feeling you two characters are going to get along together. Be at the gate. Better yet, I'll give you a ride."

I stuck out my thumb and he laughed. I hopped into the company pickup and he dropped me at the gate. Before be dropped me off he told me to look for a powder blue Lincoln Continental. He told me it was Jimmy's pride and joy and even though it wasn't new Jimmy spent a fortune having it maintained and even rebuilt from time to time.

I waited about 20 minutes and saw a powder blue car in the offing. I licked the tip of my thumb and stuck it out in a slow gesture, extending the international digit of transportation for the poor.

The car stopped next to me, the driver lowered a window and asked if I was Piccolo. I was and still am.

"Put you bag on the floor of the back seat and hop in," said Jimmy.

There was an expensive suit laid out on the back seat and a pair of expensive western boots on the floor. I laid my bag on the floor carefully so as not to damage anything. Then I hopped in.

He must have seen the look on my face. "My travelin' clothes," he said. "I'm not going to wear a damned suit all the way to New York."

I laughed. He was wearing a pair of threadbare jeans, an old western cut shirt and boots. We roared off and started moving. We wasted no time. We made one stop for gas and he let me buy him breakfast. He also made a phone call from a booth. This was before cell phones were the norm.

He was quite a character and we spent most of the time swapping stories and laughing. He was really down to earth and had started his career on the end of a shovel and now he was some sort of wheeler and dealer. He told me of his first week at a job early on where the boss had told him to empty some sort of warehouse and get rid of everything. He said he put all of the stuff behind his father's barn and sold it for enough money to buy a brand new pickup with money left over.

For a guy that started on the end of a shovel he had certainly done well. He told me he had brokered the deal between our company and the South American company that had purchased it. He was enroute to New York to look at another one my company was getting rid of.

I got dropped off at the gate and started towards the office to check in. I was still pretty pissed off with the bus ticket shenanigans. I walked in amidst the cubicles and one of the port captains, who was an admirer of mind that gave me the biggest grin I had ever seen him with. "How did you get back so soon?" he asked.

"I hitchiked," I said. He smirked. He also glanced at someone. I turned my head and saw a guy I recognized as some suit, a muckety-muck from the downtown office. I knew him by face but not by name.

My port captain heard me and interrupted. "You did NOT hitchike!" he snapped.

I pulled out my bus ticket and replied, "Then why am I here about two hours before that stupid bus you scheduled me on is going to leave?  And while we're at it, it really shows how much we value our fine employees, doesnt' it?"

The valued employees part was a reference to a recent letter sent out by the CEO telling us how valuable we all were. 

Of course he started in on how dangerous hitchiking was and how I could have been found face down in a ditch. "Save it for someone else. You don't give a damn about me one iota. Besides, what are you bitching about? You're just embarrassed because I got back before your cheapskate bus has even left! It still hasn't even left yet!"

The suit from the downtown office stepped in. He addressed me. "You are actually to be commended for you iniative and resourcefulness. However there will be no more hitchiking. It is illegal and unsafe." Then he turned to my port captain. "You gave that man a bus ticket for a 14 hour ride?" My port captain turned purple. The suit looked back at me.

"Did a man named Jimmy pick you up along the way?" he asked me.

"Yes he did," I replied. "He's a really nice guy."

"He spoke very highly of you when he called me a couple of hours ago," he said. He turned to my port captain. "Jimmy is the person that bought the barge Mr. Piccolo here delivered. He's headed to New York to look at another one we're getting rid of. He called me along the way to New York and said he had picked up one of our employees standing on the side of the road with his thumb out. He asked me what kind of a fly by night gyppo outfit we were running. I have never been so embarrassed  in my life! There will be no more bus tickets issued as transportation under any circumstances."

He turned back to me and started in on how the company employees were its most valuable asset and the usual canned crap management tells its people and told me how I would be rewarded for my iniative. I saw it for what it was, apply anywhere bull$hit.

Some reward! The jerks didn't even do their homework. I got a gift certificate from some damned toy store along with a letter going on and on about famiy and how they hoped the kids I don't have would enjoy the toys.

Seeing I have no children I wasn't surprised to say the least. However all was not lost. I managed to trade it with some woman for a bottle of halfway decent scotch her husband's employer gave him. It looked like he had a job at the same sort of place I worked at the time because she said her husband didn't drink.

A few years later the company sold off some more equipment, this time to an east coast outfit. One of the pieces of equipment was the one I was assigned to. I lost my job with the company but the new company picked me up and I never even lost a day's work.

The new company has actually treated us like human beings and communication opened up wide. It's been a halfway decent place to work and they have been very good to me.

Oh, yeah. I put in for mileage for that one. They were too embarrassed not to pay me and I got my money.

 

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Street racing seems to have pretty much disappeared.

While I'm sure it still happens once in a while I have seen little evidence of it. What little of it that remains is most likely gone  underground and takes place in out of the way places at odd times so as to keep it under the radar.

Then again I am an old man and the boys don't really keep me in the loop these days like they used to. I am only going with what I see and hear from a few of the younger people I know.

I posted the picture I took of the 'High score 87' sign under the blinking spped limit sign on Nextdoor and while most people found it entertaining, the usual people who are wrapped too tight got all worked up. I had figured that was going to be a likely scenario to begin with.

Years ago, and I was occasionally a part of this although I wasn't a drag racer. Straight lines are for fast cars. Curves are for fast drivers. 

I would occasionally run my MGB through the twisties going like the hammers of hell. While I occasionally still run a Miata through the twisties I don't go very fast anymore. I simply enjoy driving on a winding road as an old man. It used to be exciting going like hell. Now that I've slowed down it's relaxing.

For the most part these days the young people tend to take their driving seriously, especially young men. The attitude seems to have changed because I don't see as many of them champing at the bit to get licensed. They put it off in many instances. Right now I am watching a college sophomore starting to get licensed. Once they do get licensed very few go running down to Thunder Alley.

I know a young man that got licensed only after his parents got on his case because they needed him to pitch in and be able to run errands. He's licensed and drives like a little old lady as reportedly does my grand niece who has been recently licensed.

The days of dragging the gut on the main and meeting the challengers on Thunder Alley are long over other than a small subculture that seems to stay reasonably well under the radar.

I did get to check out some flashlight races a few years back at an airport landing strip. It wasn't on the street and really posed no real risk to anyone. I'm sure the police will leave that one alone because they have better things to do. Actually it was a somewhat older crowd which was mildly surprising. It was basically family type cars and a couple of Old School hot rods.

Actually about 50 plus years ago during the street racing heyday the Navy got into the act. In what was a stroke of public relations and recruiting genius they opened a little used landing strip up once or twice a month to the drag racing set. They even supplied medics and the airplane crash crews on standby.

At that time the State Police were throwing their weight around and decided to raid the operation. They tried with a remarkable lack of success. The base commanding officer (who had been watching the races whils sitting on a pickup's tailgate)  politely told them to leave and the Trooper in charge got high and mighty with him. 

The base CO, who had been tipped off, gave the high sign and the entire detail of Troopers was disarmed and herded into the brig at bayonet point by an armed platoon of Marines that 'just happened' to be standing around doing nothing.

Actually the drag racing was a small part ot it. It was more of a minor turf war. It ended when they found out that it was a United States Naval installation guarded by the United States Marine Corps and that the only authority State Police had on base was determined by the Navy and that was THAT.

I remember talking about it with one of my small town local cops and he grinned broadly and said, "Good for the Navy! The State Police have no business going in there to begin with."

The races continued for a few more months until finally the governor pulled a few strings and got a couple of congress critters to step in and stop it. Of course it didn't take long for things to go back to what they were which meant Thunder Alley was back in full swing again. Like it often does, government undid something that actually worked and recreated their own problem again.

From my observations the bulk of the speeders out there today are adults in some sort of a hurry because they were didn't leave early enough for whatever reason. Generally a lame one.

The last time I got stopped was on the turnpike a couple of years ago at 0300 and I knew instantly that the Trooper was fishing for drunks and drugs. I don't hold his fishing expedition against him. He was just doing his job. He relaxed instantly when he saw my face.

When he asked me what the hurry was, I explained to him that my sister had called me and told me that my mother had just won $800 in a wet T-shirt contest and my sister wanted me to get the money before Mom spent it on cocaine because the last time she got coked up she flipped her Harley and spent 3 months in the hospital.

He accepted my excuse and sent me on my way.

Still, from what I see with exceptions, of course, young men don't go tearing around like they used to and for the most part create little danger like they used to. For the most part they're far more responsible than we were.

What scare the hell out of me far more these days are teenage girls texting and middle aged Karens trying to take a picture of something that offends them to post it on line somewhere as absolute proof the alleged offender was driving three times the speed limit.

Actually I have never seen one of those pictures that shows any indication of speed whatsoever because the camera has a fast shutter speed. Every single one of them does look like a wrongdoing has been committed. It looks like the driver has illegally parked in the middle of the road.

Drunk driving is the big sin these days and I don't disagree that it's wrong. Still, if you look at things carefully, a distracted driver is far more of a danger than a mildly drunk driver is because of two things. The drunk generally knows he's had too much and adjusts his driving accordingly so as not to get caught. The distracted driver generally doesn't have a clue as to what they are doing behind the wheel because they are too busy texting or taking someone's picture.

For the record, I took that picture after I had pulled over well into the ditch  safely, turned on my flashers and had gotten out of the vehicle.

Still, no law enforcement is willing to stick their head up and admit that distracted driveing is often worse than drunk driving but any number of policemen will privately admit that distracted driving is as bad if not worse than someone mildly drunk behind the wheel.

Incidentally I just asked a Trooper I know and he told me that the signs of a distracted driver and a drunk driver are similar. Think about that the next time you consider texting Sally-Ann to tell her about what color dress Julie wore to the party or taking a picture of the person that passed you a few miles and hour over the limit to post on line.

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Either they are or they're not children.

we're playing the 18-21 year old game.

I see where Congress wants to raise the firearm ownership age to 21. It's already that for handguns.

Yet to vote or enlist in the military the age is 18. In many places they can sign binding contracts.

The way I see it is they are children or they're not.

Either make the age of majority 18 or 21 and give them all of it or leave then as children until they're 21.

Frankly I don't care which but set one standard and hold it to everyone.

EXCEPT maybe for voting which should be raised to 30 but that is just me.

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Sunglasses

are something I never wear when I leave the house. I wait until I have been outside for a while before I put them on.

Some medico once explained to me that the eyes are some sort of switch that turns on the vitamin D receptors in your body and that it's a good idea to let them turn them on before putting on a pair of shades.

It makes sense and sounded legitimate so that what I have been doing for years.

Shades go on after I have been outside for a while.

YMMV.

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Here's one for you.

Somebody thinks the same way I do.

 

Update. I just posted this picture on Nextdoor. I'm wondering if it will get me yet another Nextdoor jail sentence.

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Helping a little one embark on a life of crime.

By patronizing a known criminal activity.

Yesterday I saw a little kid's lemonade stand so of course I pulled over as I always do and had a lemonade. The little girl running it was the cutest thing. She said she was seven and when I asked her about school she said she didn't go to school which led me to believe she is being home schooled which is probably a good thing these days in my opinon.

A buck got me a couple of home made chocolate chip cookies and a cup of lemonade which in this day and age sounds reasonable. The little criminal said she made them herself.

I was impressed. She told me the only thing her mother (and unindicted co-conspirator) did was put the sheets of cookie dough in the oven for her so she wouldn't get burned.

If you are a regular here you will know that lemonade stands are a de-facto criminal activity because they are unlicensed, uninspected and don't pay taxes. By patronizing one I proudly become a criminal, also.

I have pointed out this to a few police officers that they are knowingly supporting a criminal enterprise and the guilty (most of them) give me an embarrassed smirk in return.

In addition to getting a couple of halfway decent cookies and a delicious cup of lemonade, I got the satisfaction of helping a small child get involved in criminal activity.

Hopefully she'll grow up into one of those outlaws that threw the tea into Boston Harbor.

As a grouchy old man, nothing gives me more satisfaction than helping a small child embark on a life of crime.

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Anne Frank was hidden by criminals.

She was ratted out to the Gestapo by law abiding citizens.

The other day in the Target some guy in a lifted 4WD pickup drove over one of those concrete parking lot doodads and the woman next to me that was putting her purchases in her car looked at me and said, "That's against the law!"

"So what?" I replied. "Laws are for suckers and people that don't have a sense of personal responsibility." She went into shock and looked at me with the deer in the headlight look.

"Always remember that Anne Frank was hidden by criminals and ratted out by law abiding citizens. The man in that truck did nothing whatsoever that was unsafe or irresponsible. The law in this case is meaningless. Stop being a goodie two-shoes."

She blushed and I walked off into Target for my kitty litter.

This 'law abiding citizen' business is a load of crap. A lot of times it's a cop out and a coward's excuse to not do the right thing. 

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

I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do. I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do.

Robert Heinlein

 

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I just read a post somewhere else by a mother that is demanding her married son give her grandchildren.

I see that happening from time to time and I have been in the son's shoes many years ago. It was nothing more or less than a royal pain in the ass.

It is the most selfish thing in the world.

I got that crap from my mother because I'm the oldest son. "When are you going to give me grandchildren?" she asked.

"I'm not," I replied.

"But..." she started. Fortunately my father was there.

"But, nothing!" he snapped. "You've got four other children to give you grandkids. Leave him alone!"

Get this in your head, parents. You have no right whatsoever to ask your adult children to reproduce. It is strictly their decision. 

Nobody cares if you want grandchildren. It's not about you.

And one other thing, grandparents have no legal standing, either. Nor should they.  I always got a kick out of someone I know that told her mother in law that the kids were to have no sweets or sugary drinks. Needless to say, Grandma did what she wanted and got the kids sugared up so she revoked visitation privlidges. The argument got heated so she went to court and got a restraining order which grandma ignored.

The first time grandma ignored it she was escorted off the premises by a policeman. The second time she filed charges and Granny got 90 days for contempt of court with a promise by the judge that the next time it would be a year.

When I heard that story I laughed.

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Some woman told me she likes watching reruns of 'The Rifleman'

which starred Chuck Conners and Johnny Crawford. She says she likes watching the wonderful father/son relationship between Lucas and Mark.

I had a hard time keeping a straight face with that one. It was the bloodiest western on TV at the time. Lucas McCain killed more people than Adolf Eichmann!

In 168 episodes Lucas killed 120 people, most of them being gunned down with his trick rifle. The death total of the series was around 245 people. that comes to 1.46 killings per episode, not including those that died of other causes.

I was going to say something but decided not to because some idiots are not worth the time and effort.

Still, I think it was kind of funny in a perverse sort of way.

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Now I read that there's a tampon shortage.

I don't see that as a big deal because back in the day I dated a girl that could roll her own and change it at 90 mph on the back of a Norton 750 Atlas.

Maybe it is a problem because they don't make chicks like her  anymore. I have mixed feeling over that one.

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Some guy was grousing about the price of a head of lettuce.

As usual I didn't keep my mouth shut.

"That's because that lettuce isn't going to deliver itself from California," I said. "If you voted for Biden you did it to yourself."

He gave me a hangdog look.

"But look on the bright side," I said. "No more mean tweets."

He looked down and said nothing. I'm sure he was embarrassed.

People have no idea about logistics or how an economy is supposed to work and an awful lot of them think electricity comes from magic boxes on building walls and that products deliver themselves.

Carter's problem is that he bungled most crisis situations he was handed. Biden creates his own crisis situations to bungle.

Between Biden, Obama and Carter, Jimmy Carter has gone from the worst president I have seen in my lifetime to the third worst.

But no more mean Tweets!

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Ahh, yes. Gunfight at the OK corral. Good old television.

One ot the things I have noticed is that my Samsung TV give me 'The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp' on one of the free western channels.

A Desilu production, it portrays Wyatt as an all around great guy.

It came out at about the same time the Warner Brothers TV westerns did. Going only by memory the Warner Brothers westerns I remember were Cheyenne, Maverick, Bronco and Sugarfoot. There were a few others also.

Anyway, back to Wyatt Earp, all around good citizen and nice guy according to the show. Wyatt is probably remembered in real life as a participent at the gunfight at the OK corral which lasted about 30 seconds.

If you do any digging into the real history of Wyatt and his brothers you will find a bunch of somewhat unscrupulous characters. They were pretty much gamblers, opportunists and hired thugs. 

People tend not to realize that the Old West wasn't as wholesome a place as the tube portrays it. For example, Wyatt's wife ran a brothel while for a while Wyatt was some kind of policeman. 

In general the people were pretty pragmatic. If thuggishness reared its head in town the quick fix was for the city fathers to hire a bigger thug. Usually there was a stipend that went with it but they permitted 'their thug' to do a little side work, things like running a faro game or maybe a little silent ownership in a whore house.

The Official opening of 'Gunsmoke' face to face pistol duel is pretty much a fantasy cooked up by people like dime novelist Ned Buntline. Generally disagreements of the sort were settled by things like someone standing in an alley shooting his antagonist in the back, things along these lines.

As for the Gunfight at the OK Corral? It was a thirty second melee of a gunfight that left three cowboys opposing the Earps dead and two Earp brothers and Doc Holliday wounded. Wyatt escaped unscathed. It was not a drawn out affair as others would lead you to believe.

So why was Wyatt the hero of a TV series?

Probably because not only did he supply Ned Buntline with some of the basis for his writing but also later on in life when he lived in California he worked for a bit in the fledgling movie industry.

Desilu Productions had him seen as a good, wholesome upstanding character as Jack Warner did with all of the heroes of the westerns of the 50s and 60s.

Actually it was pretty wholesome entertainement unlike a lot of the crap we have today even though most of it was total bull$hit.

 

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