piccolo's hash

Brats and comeuppance

2012-02-11T08:52:00.000-05:00

One of the things I have seen a few times over the years is a spoiled brat getting his comeuppance. I think my favorite time was in the army during basic when we had a little brat that kept insistine that we didn't have to do thiings.

Even back then the drill sergeants were not really allowed to get too physical but in extreme cases they sort of forgot that chapter of the book. This little whiney brat wandered into the laundry room and when I saw him stumble out I knew exactly what had happened to him. Someone had given him a pretty good shot in the solar plexus.

I was mopping the floor outside the laundry room at the time and saw the drill sergeant come out shortly thereafter. I simply looked at the mop and concentrated on what I was doing but I must have been smirking. The drill sergeant tried looking like nothing had happened but didn't do the best job I had ever seen of it.

A few hours later I guess the indignant little brat mouthed off to his squad leader what he was going to do in retaliation to having been brutally assaulted by the drill sergeant and got yet another sock in the gut from him. This one was in front of the rest of his squad. When he wimpered to his squad mates that he wanted justice it was funny listening to them all tell him they hadn't seen anything happen. The outrage on his face was precious.

I would like to say this guy became the best soldier in the platoon but I can't. He didn't. However, I can say he figured out that the smartest thing he could do was to keep his mouth shut, stop being selfish and pull his own weight. That wasn't a whole lot to ask for under the circumstances.

I was considered a pretty self-reliant independent trainee and when I was not contributing to the team efforts of the squad I was generally scouting around looking for ways to learn a little more and improve myself. At first it was sort of a hard row to hoe until people figured out that I wasn't shunning the team, just taking what little time I had to myself and using it to stay on top of things. After that I was left alone when I took my time to myself.

I have to say that at least the kid in basic training learned and amended his ways and shaped up enough to become a part of his squad.

Over the years the people that I have seen out in the worlld that leave me in constant consternation are the ones that never seem to learn. I had a neighbor like that once. He would get indignant and raise all sorts of hell over nothing. If a couple kids were wandering up the street tossing a Frisbee across the road as they walked up to the store, you could bet on seeing a cruiser pass by.

I would imaging that he would report that the kids had taken over the street and were using it to play the World Series or something when in fact it was nothing more than a couple of kids with a Frisbee wandering up the street.

Of course, from time to time he would have his place vandalized or be wakened up at 3 am with a cherry bomb tossed on his porch or some other thing. I should have invested in paint remover stock back then and I would have been able to retire in my twenties.

Still, I do not think this guy ever learned.

I recall walking down the street carrying a shotgun and a couple of squirrels and having a cruiser pull up to me and look at me. The officer simply glanced at my hunting license and commented on the squirrels,, asked me where I bagged them and drove off. I saw him pull into the neighbors driveway and get out. Right then I knew what that was all about.

He had most likely reported that I had been walking down the street shooting squirrels out of the stately elms that lined the street. I started to plan a retaliation for that one but thought better of it. I knew the policeman and he was one of the good guys. I knew the cop had probably told him to stuff it. Cops back then generally knew that a kid that spent a lot of time hunting and fishing seldom wound up getting into any real trouble even though they might have a mischievious streak.

For one thing they valued their hunting and fishing privliges and would not do anything to endanger them.

Now this started when I was in grade school and from what I heard it kept up until I was in the the army and he decided to put in an in-ground pool. Someone tossed a home made cherry bomb into it and cracked it.

From what I heard he smartened up shortly thereafter after about two decades. At least to a certain extent. I heard later he was still stupid but not quite as stupid as he had been. He had either grown tired of repairing things or had gotten too old.

These days I tend to see a lot more brats and crybabies running around than I used to. I attribute it to a society that has lost its common sense and takes a lot of stupid stuff more seriously. We seem to as a society miss the entire point and have seemed to have lost our independence.

I'd bet that police departments and the courts now spend an awful lot more time on stupid things they never used to be forced to bother with. I know of one younger guy that has run afoul to the new and improved system. Someone picked a fight with him and I do not mean this was over an insult. This was a
case where the starter upperer of the incident laid hands on this guy. The original layer of hands got a busted nose for his troubles and it should have ended then and there.

Someone went looking for trouble and got it. It should have been end of story then and there.

Enter lawyers and a lawsuit. The defender of himself got wahcked for the cost of repairing the assailant's nose.

This creates an atmosphere where being a barnacle on the ass of society is profitable when Judge Piccolo would have simply tossed the entire case out of court.

From time to time I occasionally see someone get their comeuppance but it ain't like it used to be and I think we are becoming a nation of whiners.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

The cops in my town ain't half bad.

2012-02-10T07:21:00.000-05:00

One of the things I think a lot of readers may not understand is that I have nothing against police officers.

They have a job to do and generally they do it as best they can. I figure the average cop is just another fairly decent guy that has chosen to try and make the world a little safer place to live.

While it is true I think there is a lot of stupid and police corruption in places like Philly, the average cop in the average town is just another guy trying to keep things down to a dull roar. The average cop wants to go out and feel he has made a difference.

Police departments seem to have the same headaches as most other organizations and probably suffer the usual 80/20 problems any other organizations seem to suffer. Eighty percent of the problems are generally caused by about 20% of the membership.

As I have posted here I generally draw a lot more police attention than a lot of my fellow citizens.

Much of this is of my own doing as I tend to do things that are a little unusual and the unusual seems to draw attention. Good policemen are curious by nature and tend to stop and check out things that they see as being unusual.

A guy parked in a mall parking lot with some sort of radio set up well after the mall is closed is pretty likely to draw the eyes of the local police who generally patrol mall parking lots after closing hours looking to make sure everything is secure. I would imagine that if they did not at least pull up and ask what is going on that they really would not be doing their job.

You have to expect such things and if you are not ready to deal with a police officer I suppose you ought to simply stay home instead of going hilltopping in a parking lot late at night. There are not a whole lot of hilltopping ham radio operators running around. It is an unusual thing to do and anything unusual is bound to draw attention.

Getting upset with the officer that is doing his job really makes little sense when you think about it because he is probably going to respond just like almost everyone else in the world. If you get all huffy and give him a hard time he is simply going to return the favor. You can't blame him because you would probably do the same thing.

You also can't blame him for being suspicious when you act like you are simply trying to get rid of him because his suspicious nature is going to wonder what you are trying to hide. More often than not a simple honest explaination of what you are doing goes a long way.

I can not recall ever having a police officer show up at my residence looking for me that hasn't been called
by somebody else. Nebby Larry, the chronic cop-caller has been responsible for the majority of it and there is another neighbor a few doors up that does not have a life that I sometimes bait by doing something like drink iced tea out of an old Jack Daniels bottle while cleaning a rifle.

The one up the street has been quiet lately probably because she has made a fool out of herself a few too many times.

A lot of people seem to get pretty resentful when they find themselves dealing with a police officer. Generally I don't find it upsetting in the least because I know that they have to respond to calls, even stupid ones like the ones Nebby Larry makes into the station when I bait him by telling him I am looking for land mines and other such things.

Granted there are a number of police officers on the payroll that really shouldn't be there but you have only to look around and open your eyes and you will see about the same percentage of idiots in just about any other field that don't belong in the field they are in.

One officer I know of fits the bill when I think of him. He is a jerk and should have found something else to do for a living. He makes trouble where there is none and I happen to know that there are a whole lot of officers that do not like him very much because of this.

One of the problems asssociated with a person like this is that he gives the rest of those that try and keep things simple a bad name. Besides making trouble for the public, he makes trouble for the department.

Still, you have to realize that police departments in general are little more than a cross section of the American public and that they have a job to do and are subject to the same problems and headaches as the rest of us have.

My most often read post is the one where I was in a motel and the maid walked in on me and freaked out when she saw me cleaning a service rifle. The police were called and a couple of rookies showed up and freaked out over the fact that I had a couple of service rifles and a pile of ammunition. They got carried away.

While the incident ended well when a sergeant walked in and sorted things out you have to look at the responding officers. Neither of them were at all familiar with the shooting sports and it is entirely possible that the first firearm they ever fired was at the police academy. You also have to remember that this event took place shortly after the Oklahoma City bombing and the media was on a feeding frenzy reporting militias behind every tree.

There are an awful lot of police officers that are not shooters and simply regard their sidearm as something they have to qualify with periodically. A lot of them do not own firearms of their own. They do not hunt. Some are really not comfortable around firearms.

This is to be expected to a degree because, as I have said, the police are nothing more than a cross section of the American public. There are an awful lot of citizens out there that are afraid of firearms for various reasons. I would suppose there are a few officers in this category, too.

When I think of police officers I do not think of heroes, nor do I think of a bunch of bums, either. I simply look at most of them as guys that are just trying to do a good job, take home a paycheck and raise a family as best they can.

We give the average cop a lot of authority that he seldom abuses and a lot of responsibility he generally manages to live up to and really, that ain't all that bad.

When you consider the fact that they are nothing more than human beings and as such are apt to make mistakes it is pretty noteworthy that in general they do as good of a job as they do.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

This has been a pretty darned mild winter so far

2012-02-09T06:36:00.000-05:00

and I really ought to shut the hell up before I hex things.

My snow blower, serviced last November is ready to go. All I have to do is dump a quart or two into the tank and fire it up.

Still, I hope the thing rusts in peace because I do not like snow.

The snowblower is one of those things one buys and prays they never have to use it, sort of like buying a fire extinguisher or a home defense weapon. You buy it as a sort of insurance policy.

So far this winter has been pretty good but it is far from over. A few years back we had a pretty mild one until March came along and then we got clobbered big time. This is going to be one of those years that I do not summerize the snow blower until well after Easter.

The weather Gods can be pretty sneaky.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

It is a new day and I am up early as usual

2012-02-08T07:18:00.001-05:00

which I suppose is a product of getting old.

It wasn't all that long ago I could sleep until noon. Now I wake up pretty early.

Then again I tend to hit the rack a little earlier, but not a whole lot earlier, though.

I wonder why this is? Is it that I don't seem to need as much sleep or is it that I have simply changed schedules?

WHo knows? I guess I'll just have to keep an eye on things and see what is happening to me.

I have a lot of paperwork to get done today and I want to get it done on time so this will probably be a short post. Then again I might add to it as the day goes on if I manage to get ahead.

In other news. I just got word that an old shipmate just died of pancreatic cancer. He was one of thosse cheerful guys that was from the south and sort of reminded people of Gomer Pyle.

We both entered the business at about the same time and went through fire fighting school together two decdes ago with another company.

When he first started I found out he was a plumber by trade but really didn't like it for some reason or another. He decided to come out here and give the life a whirl. At first a lot of things came a little slow for him but it didn't take a lot of time for him to pick right up and get with the program.

He was one hell of a good shipmate and a competent seaman. I am going to miss him. He survived an awful lot of stuff over the years.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

A busy day. I have to take care of quite a few things

2012-02-07T07:48:00.000-05:00

so I suppose todays post will be just a sort of place holder.

I was outside a minute ago and the patrol car passed by. I recognized the officer as the one that Nebby Larry called on me the other day so I flagged him down to say hello and let him know I am going out of town for the rest of the day.

"I'm going to be out of town until late. See anyone suspicious just take care of him and leave him on the back porch and I'll bury him for you. Oh, yeah. I got half a box of silvertips to replace any rounds you use."

That got a semi-amused look. "How do you know we use silvertips?" he asked.

"I had to replace a couple of rounds for the last officer that had this beat after he...Oh, never mind," I replied. "Anyway if you ever need a shovel I keep one under the porch."

"I'll keep an eye on the place," he said.

Even though the Mrs will be here it is good to know he'll keep an eye on things.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Nebby Larry missed a chance yesterday

2012-02-06T07:15:00.003-05:00

Nebby Larry missed one yesterday.

I was rerouting an antenna and needed a piece of paracord strung through a tree so I simply got out the slingshot. The slingschot has a fishing reel mounted on the bottom and I simply shoot a one ounce sinker through a tree, tie a piece of paracord to it and reel it in. Presto!

The problem is that 10 pound test monofilimint is pretty damned hard to see. Especially in some sunlight conditions. When that happens I generally spread my arms and wander around the suspected impact area until it snags on me somewhere.

So there I was, wandering around the side yard with both arms extended looking fo an invisible piece of monofiliment, for all intents looking like I was not rowing with both oars in the water.

This really is nothing new and my immediate neighbors have learned that when they see something like that there is generally a pretty good reason. They know I have different interests and respect it.

The guy across the street wandered out to get his mail and saw me. He knew exactly what was going on.

He looked up and down the street and then looked at me.

"Just checking," he said. "While I know you're trying to find where your sinker landed, Nebby Larry would have a field day with you."

"Looks like he missed one," I replied. "Better luck next time. Maybe I can get a nuclear waste sticker and put it on the trash can and REALLY drive him nuts."

He laughed as he recalled the time years ago when I had a sick cat that had gottten radioactive iodine treatment. I had to keep the kitty litter separate and hold it for sixty days before I could trash it out.

Neighbor Bob had snagged a 'nuclear waste' sticker somewhere and stuck it on the trash can. The pregnant woman a couple of doors away saw the sticker and went into a panic fearing that the 'nuclear waste' would cause her to have a three-headed kid or something. Neighbor Bob was no help in the matter when she asked him about it. He told her I was running a reactor in the basement and selling electricity back to the power company.

She flipped out and called not the local police, but some nuclear regulatory people who showed up and hilarity ensued. The nuclear people tried to bully me around until I got a neighbor over to insure everything was on the up and up. The neighbor just happened to be a special agent with the FBI, an honest to God real, live G-man. He's long since moved which is a shame. He was a really good guy.

The whole incident was a real circus and when one of the nuclear guys opened the trash can and was bowled over by the aroma of old cat urine. He looked up and demanded to know why I didn't simply tell him I had a sick cat. I simply replied that he hadn't asked.

I thought my G-man neighbor was going to die laughing right then and there.

Anyway, yesterday Nebby Larry missed a chance.

Don't worry. I'll make sure the little dweeb get another one.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Piccolo meets a little old lady.

2012-02-05T07:01:00.000-05:00

While I was boat shopping I was in the bread aisle and this little old lady in her 80s was having a hard time putting a loaf of bread back on the shelf.

"That's too much money," she said. (it was)

I put it back for her and she commented on how expensive things have gotten for people on fixed incomes. She gave me a sad look. "I won't be able to help my granddaughter out anymore," she said. "I wonder what I'm going to tell them."

I looked at here and smirked. "Tell them your pregnant and need the money to raise your new child," I said, with an evil grin. "When they tell you they do not believe you simply tell them that it's your story and you're sticking to it."

The look she gave was priceless. The woman was one of the World War 2 generation and raised her kids during the 'Leave it to Beaver' days. She looked a bit shocked but recovered.

"My husband would have a fit if I told the granddaughter such a thing," she said and then suddenly erupted into laughter.

I then told her what I had done at Lowe's the other day with a nosy woman and she treated me to more laughter. She wanted to know what the nebby woman did and I told her. She laughed herself silly.

"Here's what you do," I explained. "Tell them he came home from a bachelor party all drunk up and thought he was 20 again and knocked you up like a cheerleader! Tell them 'You can blame you father for putting me in a family way and giving you a great aunt that is going to be 25 years younger than you are!'"

She laughed. "But he hasn't had a drink in years," she said.

"That makes for an even better story, yet!" I replied.

"But what is going to happen when my granddaughter starts questioning him?" she asked. "He''ll be furious."

'He'll probably look sheepish and grin like an idiot, which is what all men do when asked about things like that. Just because he is a little older doesn't change the fact that he is a man and that is what men do in cases like that."

"I believe you're right." she said. 'He WILL grin like an idiot."

"Listen, you two have been married for as long as you have and you can't tell me there haven't been surprises in your marriage," I said. "Maybe a nice surprise is just what the doctor ordered."

She looked at me thoughtfully for a minute or two and then a truly evil look came over the old woman's face. It lit up and turned delightfully devilish.

For some reason the look was one I always wanted to see on TV but never got to. Back in those days the TV people didn't have the nerve.

She reminded me of June Cleaver, having just snapped after having gotten yet another call from school--the one that finally put her over the edge. She is sitting there with a big, satisfying evil smile slowly honing a butcher knife as she is looking forward to a nice satisfying time of hacking the Beav up when he gets home from class.

I wandered off with a self satisfied grin look as I wondered what kind of monster I had just created.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Yesterday I went hilltopping at a local mall.

2012-02-04T07:22:00.000-05:00

Hilltopping is taking a portable transciever to the highest hill in the area and going on the air. The weather was beautiful and I didn't want to waste it. I bought the PRC 320 just for that.

The original plan was to toss up a wire antenna and go for it and check into the YLISS net as I checked out of it from the homestead before I left.

Next to the mall there is a baseball field with a few light poles around it and the light poles looked perfect for a place to string the antenna wire. One shot with the slingshot lofted a piece of monofiliment perfectly over the pole. As I found out the shot was too perfect. The pole was creosoted wood and the line got snagged in the end grain and I lost my sinker. Here's where I screwed up. I didn't bring any spares.

There were a couple of other places I could have strung the antenna wire but I deemed them either too low or in a place where someone in a vehicle could hit the wire even though it is neon pink.

What? Neon pink?

Yeah. Neon pink. It sticks out and that is exactly what you want something like that to do, be seen so nobody trips over it.

Still, the thing could have a string of lights along it accompanied by sirens and horns blaring out that it was a death wire and still somebody would hit it and state that it is their God Given right to enter this ball field lot even though there are 'No Tresspassing' signs posted all over the place.

The signs are there mainly so that the police have a little leverage if someone like a group of unruly kids is hanging out there and it's a reasonable guess that the local gendarmes only selectively enforce it.

Still, there is a chance that some fuzzy cheeked rookie may amble up and attempt to make an issue of it but even that is somewhat doubtful. For one thing I am an older guy which generally means I am not likely to be up to something like vandalism or other dumb things. For another I have a ham ticket in my pocket and can simply explain thet I'm on an emergency communications drill, which in a sense I am.

We used to say about local rifle matches that they were simply just practice for Camp Perry and hilltopping in the same sense is just practice for if anything happens that requires emergency communications.

The likely scenario is that any policeman that does come to investigate is probably going to be more interested in checking out the equipment than much of anything else. Policemen by nature are curious and while it is likely that one will swing by, I doubt I'll get thrown out of the ball field.

While I could have done something else to set up an antenna wire, I decided to simply use the 2.5 meter battle whip and try my luck that way.

I set the rig up and fired it up using the external pbattery pack I made out of a couple of 12 volt batteries and a .50 cal ammo can. I was on the air in about a minute and tuned the whip up on the antenna tuner. Shortly thereafter I was talking to the net control of the YLISS net. The guy was in Florida.

Amazing.

A cruiser drove by, slowed up a bit and kept moving. I had called it. They have seen me there before so I guess they decided I wasn't worth checking out.

WHile the rig is somewhat underpowered and was using a very short antenna I was getting quite a few signals from all over the place. However, I am generally pretty loathe to bust in on someone's conversations so I tend to wait until the frequency is clear and try to pick up someone that has not either changed frequency or turned their set off.

I left 20 meters and went up to 17 meters and tuned the antenna.

I wasn't having a whole lot of luck but I was enjoying a beautiful day and that is always a good thing.

A fat lady pulled in and paid me little mind as she went over to a picnic table with her lunch. She must have been taking a late lunch hour.

I fooled around a bit and then heard someone calling any station. The call for that is CQ.

I answered his call and found myself yakking with a ham in Northern Ireland!

While it wasn't a full 5x5 signal, it was about a 4x4 at my end and I was speaking fairly loudly into the handset using the phonetic alphabet and general ham abbreviations and Q signals. I looked over and saw te lady was a bit nervous watching me. I guess I could understand why. It looked odd and out of place.

Playing with her head would simply be cruel. She had not bothered me in any way and all she wanted to do is sit about 50 feet away and eat her lunch. She had not been nosy or a pest in any way so after I finished my little chat with the guy in Northern Ireland I settled down fo a second and got calm again. I smiled at here and she relaxed.

It was a pretty good QSO and when it was over I decided to call it a day and go home with a win under my belt.

Northern Ireland on a PRC-320 using a 2.5 meter whai is pretty damned good if you ask me. I simply started packing my rig and headed for the barn.

When I got home as I was pulling into the driveway the officer that had shown up the other day while I was cutting my antenna pulled up behind me. He rolled down the window.

"I'm glad I caught you," he said. "I told my kid about your little space station project and he was real interested. How hard is it to get a license and how much does the radio cost?"

I told him about how fairly inexpensive 2 meter rigs are. Then I pulled the PRC 320 out and showed it to him and told him I had just contacted Ireland with it. He seemed impressed. I explained it was an old military rig I had picked up.

We chatted briefly about his son that seemed to be pretty sharp with a head for science. Then I told him that in order to get through the kid was going to have to work at it and wake up at odd hours.

He asked me what he thought he ought to do and I told him to do nothing until the kid gets a license because it will at least show some kind of commitment. He agreed, and he returned to car and his patrol duties.

A minute later Neighbor Bob showed up and wanted a beer. I handed him one but it was too early for me to join him so we sat and enjoyed some more of a great day.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

This is a collection of stuff I wrote at sea last tour. Long read.

2012-02-03T08:01:00.000-05:00

WHile it is already dated you might find it somewhat amusing.

Or maybe not. Whatever.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Blog stuff
++++++++++++++++

Oh, good!

The Giants won and the Superbowl will be the Patriots vs the Giants.

That is a pretty good deal for be because I will get peace and quiet in the Pittsburgh theater of operations. Had it been the Steelers that had made it to the Superbowl I would have to listen to a bunch of idiots asking me why I wasn't wearing a football jersey with the name of my favorite player on the back.

Some time ago I posted about the idiot that bought me such a jersey after I told him that if he did I would simply throw it in the trash. He did and I did. Miffedness ensued and a nose got put out of joint so to speak.

People sometimes learn the hard way that I generally mean what I say.

It would be Steelers this and Steelers that and I would probably wind up in a coat with extra long sleeves being escorted my nice young men in clean white coats for a long rest somewhere.

While probably not watch the game itself I suppose that I will probably want to know who won for the same reason I always check up on who won the world series.

What if I got stuck outside the wire and forgot the password? The guard (according to Hollywood) will probably let me in if I can tell him who won the World Series. The reason I remember who won the Superbowl is in case the guy on guard duty is a football fan.

Speaking of which, I actually remember using that line on guard duty once. It was funny as hell.

The DIvArty CO and Sergeant Major used to not bother getting by with the password and simply saying "It's the Colonel and the Sergeant Major" to get into the battery area.

One new guy challenged them and followed his orders of making sure anyone who entered did so using the proper password. Nobody had told him about the Colonel getting a pass. The Colonel and the Sergeant Major approached late one night and tried to get past him with that line. No dice.

Good Old Private whoever he was and whose name is long forgotten told them to wait and he called the Sergeant of the Guard, who was me. I arrived and knew the Catch-22 of the situation.

If we let them in without the password we could catch hell and if we didn't let them in we'd catch hell. The private knew what was going on and I told him I'd handle it. I looked out into the darkness at the pair of them.

"Sergeant Major, huh?" I said to the guard. Then I looked out toward the pair of them standing out in the dark.

"OK, Mac!" I said, "Who won the world series!?"

The Sergeant Major went right through the roof and started up ranting and raving that a sergeant could be such an idiot as to ask such a hokey question as that. I heard the colonel outright laugh.

"Come on in, Colonel and Sergeant Major," I said.

The Sergeant Major came up to me and started chewing me out like you would not believe. Then he asked me why I would pull the hokiest Hollywood line in the world on him.

I was incontrite. I looked at him and said, "Because I knew you would do just what you did if you were the Sergeant Major. You blew a fuse and got madder than hell at someone for using the hokiest line in the world. If you were someone trying to fake me out you would have told me who won the world series!"

The kid on guard and I almost had to hold the Colonel up he was laughing so hard. He turned to the Sergeant Major. "Surely we can't begrudge the good sergeant for a little quick thinking, can we?"

The Sergeant Major was red and settled down a bit. "I guess you're right, Sir." he said.

The Colonel turned to me, "Good thinking, Sergeant,' he said and the pair of them passed through. I heard him chuckle as they went past and I knew I hadn't heard the last of it.

The following day my First Sergeant saw me and wide eyed asked me why in the name of God I would ask the Sergeant Major who had won the World Series. When I told him my reasoning he laughed like hell.

"You sure got that one right," he said. Then he turned a little red and with sort of a sheepish look grinned at me and asked me for all the gory details. He was quite amused.

((((((((((((((((((((999999))))))))))))))))))

I had been out of the army for a couple of months and returned to the Colorado Springs area afer a brief visit home. I had the tipi and was in the process of getting situated in the Ute Pass area when I ran into my old Battery Commander.

I asked him why he had promoted me. Shortly after I had been promoted to E-5 someone had leaked to me that he had sort of put the fix in with the board to get me my stripes.

He was an interesting man and he himself at that time was in the process of getting off of active duty and taking a civvie job of flying some form of aircraft. I asked him why he had pushed so hard to get me promoted.

He told me that a big part of the reason was that he knew I was not planning on making the Army a career. I looked perplexed. He smiled.

He explained that a person like me that wanted to serve his hitch and get an honorable discharge wasn't too likely to do something majorly stupid. On the other hand he also knew that a guy that wasn't making a career of the service was likely to upset a couple of apple carts here and there.

"When I promoted you, I knew that would make you dangerous," he smiled. "I wanted to watch you stir up a few things and you did. Promoting you provided me with a lot of entertainment."

Many years later I saw another dangerous service person. The man had been in the navy for 17 years and been a Chief Petty Officer for seven when he went through Officer's Candidate School and took a commission. When you see a man that was a Chief for 7 years that is wearing the railroad tracks of a full Navy Lieutenant you are looking at someone truly scary.

I do not know if the Navy ought to pass a rule prohibiting such a thing or they ought to pass a rule encouraging it.

I think the Officers in power would probably like to prohibit it, but encouraging such a thing would certainly serve to stir things up a bit.

And that is generally a healthy thing.

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

I am listening to Mitt Romney now on the tube and after getting clobbered in SC he sounds a bit panicky and appears to be somewhat on the ropes. He has started increasing his attacks on Newt.

This is somewhat predictable when a guy takes a hit like Mitt did. It's now cheap shot time and he is doing something predictable, yet stupid.

He is trying to drag his opponent down instead of lifting himself up by promoting his proposed policies.

Dr. King once said that for every Black man being held down in the gutter there is a white man holding him there. What I see happening now is that Mitt is trying to drag Newt down into the gutter and hold him there. This means Mitt will probably wind up in the gutter holding Newt there if he can.

Another danger is that if Newt can raise himself out of the gutter Mitt is trying to hold him in it will mean Mitt could get stuck there. He very well may.

Mud slinging is a lose-lose situation when you think about it.It makes everyone look stupid, slinger and slingee. One thing that people ask about the slinger is what he is trying to hide and why doesn't he have something positive to say. The time spent slinging mud is time that could have been spent trying to inform the public what your proposals and strengths are.

Instead of trying to stand on his proposals Mitt is spending his energy trying to be a millstone around Newt's neck. Wrong move. It's like a drowning man spending his effort tring to drown his opponent when he should break away and try and keep himself afloat.

Let's see what happens in Florida next weekend.

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

There is a big to-do about the way Steven Tyler sang the national anthem at the game the other night.

Let's stop and think a minute or two.

Steven Tyler is a rock star. He is going to sing like one. Plan on it.

If you don't like the way rock stars sing the national anthem at a football game then do not give a rock star the job.

Still, Steven Tyler is a little easier on the ear than Kate Smith ever was. Ouch!

Incidentally, one year at Camp Perry during morning colors I was on the ready line and as the cannon fired it was followed by The Star Spangled Banner. As the final notes faded, someone shouted "Play ball!" to the amusement of most. One young E-4 looked offended and said so to the major standing next to him. The major told the young E-4 that he was in the wrong line of work because he was in the service to insure that people could do things like that.

I agree with the major. The last two words of MY national anthem are "Play ball!"

And that is all I have to say about that.

)))))))))))))999999(((((((((((((

Another area I will enter is the abortion issue. My opinion on it is short and cuts straight to the chase.

I simply do not believe the government should be involved in it whatsoever.

The only ones involded in the issue should be the woman, her physician and her maker.

Period.

And that is all I have to say about that.

(((((((((((((((7777777))))))))))))))

Herman Cain is babbling away on the tube now. Robin Meade is interviewing him.

Why is she wasting her time with that idiot?

When he dropped out he should have simply disappeared and hidden out in Outer Mongolia or maybe gone on a long trip somewhere. Maybe he could have gone to Switzerland and taken yodeling lessons or something like that.

((((((((((((((((((555555555)))))))))))))

I just saw where Newt just OWNED the host of the CNN debates.

I gotta say the man is 100% dead on when he pointed out that the media is tearing up people so badly that it makes an awful lot of people not want to enter the political arena.

There are not a whole lot of us that have had Ward and June Cleaver lives and have not done a few things we regret and the media has no business whatsoever dredging things like that up. It is disgraceful and disgusting.

I'd just bet there are several people out there that would make an excellent POTUS that are not even considering getting into the game because they does not want to have their families dragged through the mud.

Remember the time you went over to Delta house to borrow a textbook that Friday night and found you had crashed the Big Party? You just wanted the textbook and had a quick drink while your buddy ran upatairs to get it.

Well, Jimmy-Joe-Bob has a picture he took of you holding the drink before you grabbed your textbook and left four hours before the whole frat house took liberties with the Dean's 17 year old daughter. And here it is thirty years later and the picture majestically appears.

Of course, the result of that little party with the underage girl resulted in a child born long before the days of DNA testing and now all of your political enemies want you to have a DNA test taken because they have 'just happened' to have found the grown up child of that outrageous little shindig.

While the DNA test is going to be negative and you can prove you were on the other end of town during the group copulation, it is still humiliating and isn't worth it to drag your family through such a smear tactic. No matter what the DNA says and the witnesses say people are still going to wonder.

Newt was dead on there. You cannot argue with logic like that and although I think Newt is a snake of sorts he has still put another round right smack dab into the X-ring.

While I have no particular desire to enter the political arena I can assure the reader that if I did there would be a media feeding frenzy of which we have never seen the likes.

Then again, maybe the American public would find it refreshing when I answered the question of the CNN host by asking him, "Whaddya you jealous that I got more nookie than you?" or something along else these lines. "No, I do NOT have a drinking problem. I can kill an entire quart of Jameson's without barfing."

I am sure that there is still someone that remembers some of the things I have said over the years. There was one self rightous preacher there that Iheard say self rightously that so and so was seeing a married woman.

Of course, five years earlier the husband had abscounded with the family savings and had not been heard from since. The woman had not bothered to divorce him although maybe she should have but I suppose she didn't have the funds to divorce someone in absentania.

When the preacher said that in such a self-righous tone, I answered that he sounded jealous that so and so was getting her pearl and he wasn't.

There were an awful lot of people that turned pretty red when I said that. Jaws dropped and I was considered somewhat of a pariah for a while but an awful lot of people that were there quietly chased me down over the next several weeks and told me that besides being the funniest thing they had ever heard that I was probably right.

Both because he was jealous and that the self righous bastard had it coming.

When I look back on things I recall how Camelot back during the JFK reign was pretty much off limits to the media. While I am fairly certain a lot of insiders knew what was going on behind closed doors every time Jackie left the white House You didn't see or hear a single word of it during the entire administration,and there were a string of women sneaking into the White House a mile long.

In fact, during the Camelot years the media worked pretty hard at keeping the Camelot image snow white pure.

What has happened over the past couple of decades is that the media has decided to follow the low road. They have decided to cop to the trashy side and while there is a place for that, the media has taken the trashy route as an SOP.

They have also self rightously done quite a disservice to our service people byrunning their mouths. WHile the most recent incident of Marines urinating on Taliban corpses is going to cost a couple of Marines their careers, letting the public know that Usama bin Laden was whacked by SEAL Team Six very cost us the lives of a number of our SEALs from a retaliatory set up.

FDR had the brains to tell the public the Dolittle raid came from 'our secret base in Shangri La', and if anyone did find out they sure had enough sense to stay quiet about.

While the news of SEAL Team Six was let out by that blabbermouth Joe Biden (who ought to be shot for treason) the media still had the option of keeping their mouth shut. They didn't.

When you consider their First Amendment rights are guarenteed by the US Military it is a disgrace the way the Media turns on the services every chnce they get.

The media had the decency back then to keep their nose out of where it did not belong.

I'm glad Newt said what he did and put that tasteless self-rightous jerk in his place.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

I am posting on a little dinky netbook

2012-02-02T08:57:00.000-05:00

because the usual combat laptop is calibrating a battery.

Yesterday I was out and about and some youngster clerking behind a register asked me how I was doing. He's a regular of mine and sometimes plays along with me. There was a stuffy looking woman behind me.

"How ya doin?" asked the kid.

"Not worth a rat's ass," I replied. "I just found out my dad got his girlfriend pregnant. Ninty two years old and running around with some go go girl he hooked up with last year. When is he going to grow up?"

Now I know the kid is sharp. He knows this is a pile of crap. He also knows how to help draw the nosy woman into this with his body language. He's pretty sharp, like I said.

SUre enough the nosy woman couldn't let this one sit still.

"Did I overheard you right that you father is going to be a father again and he's 92?" She asked.

"You heard what I said," I replied. "Now I have to tell everyone I know that I'm going to have a kid sister 60 years younger than me. How would you like it?"

"He's ninety-two?" she asked.

"Yeah, he hasn't been the same since Ma got killed," I said. "He gets coked up every so often and drags strippers home. He lives with me now and it takes days to get the smell of cheap perfume out of the house. They leave the place smelling like a French whorehouse!"

"Really?" she asked, and right then and there we knew we had a live one.

"I heard about your mother getting killed," said the kid. "I believe she got killed in a knife fight."

"Yeah," I said to the kid. "On a wet T-shirt night at the Kit Kat club."

"Yeah, I'll bet she'd have won that one but some little jealous hussy shanked her," I replied. "Dad hasn't been the same since. He's been a pain in the ass."

The woman interrupted. "Drugs? Does he still drive? How come the police haven't arrested him?"

"Lotta good the cops are," I replied. "They think it's funny seeing a 92 year old guy coked up with a 20 something year old stripper in tow. They just say they hope they're that frisky when they are that age and let him slide."

I paid for my stuff and left and about ten minutes later I returned to the scene of the crime. The kid saw me and he smiled the biggest smile I have seen in some time.

"You had her ALL worked up," said the kid. "Wait until I tell the manager. He's still laughing himself silly over the time you told Claris you have just eloped with a 16 year old."

"That's the second one this week and it is only Tuesday," I replied, turning around. I heard him laugh.

Clerking in a Lowes sometimes need a little help and I am alway glad to oblige.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

82 yo ham

2012-02-01T08:33:00.000-05:00

Last night I QSO'd a guy in Florida and breifly chatted with him and found out he's 82 years old and just got his ham license last year. That's pretty cool if you ask me.

He seemed pretty sharp.

Getting started in ham radio at his age is something pretty neat because it tells me that although he will eventually wear out he's certainly not going to rust out.

That's a pretty good deal if you ask me. I respect people like that.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Yet another visit from the police compliments of Nebby Larry

2012-01-31T07:08:00.000-05:00

A pretty good cop.

I was out on the street yesterday cutting an antenna when a cruiser pulled up. I could tell by the way he pulled up that he was not on routine patrol. Somebody must have called him. My guess is that it was Nebby Larry again but I digress.

There are two very small paint spots on my street that just so happen to be exactly 100 feet apart that someone mysteriously put there early one morning. In the center of each of the paint spots is a 1/8 inch hole that fits a 16d green vinal coated sinker just perfectly. It is large enough to be able to remove the nail easily after use.

It is great because if you want something like a piece of wire cut a certain length all you have to do is hook the end on a nail and pull it down toward the other nail. It the wire is under 100 feet you also hook a 100 foot steel tape to the same nail and there you go. If you want over 100 feet you catch the wire on the second nail and come back toward the first one.

Anyway, I was cutting an antenna and the cruiser pulled up and asked me what I was doing and I told the cop I was cutting an antenna. He asked what for and I told him it was for my ham rig.

"I figured it was something like that," he said. "Are you one of those guys that talks to people overseas and all that stuff?"

"Yes, I am." I replied. "This antenna is for a new tuner I am installing right up there, next to that little antenna I put up so I can yak with the International Space Station."

"You can do that?" he asked. "Aren't those special government frequencies?"

"They have a couple of rigs in it specifically for yakking with civvies like me," I replied.

"That's pretty cool," he said. "Spoken with them yet?"

"Not yet. I've just gotten set up for it." I replied.

"Let me know how you make out." he said.

Then he grinned. "You know, there's a kid about 13 now. For the past couple, three years every time there is a school science fair coming up we get a call to check him out. You two seem to have something in common. Neither of you are generally troublemakers but you are always up to something. I actually enjoy checking the kid out. He's always doing something interesting. You fit into that category"

"I guess it's some kind of circle," I mused. "When I was in middle age I wound up getting my priorities all screwed up with career and all that stuff. I grew out of it and returned to doing the right thing."

"Full circle, huh? You know, I see a lot of older guys that tinker with stuff. Maybe you have something there. At least this is interesting."

I rubbed my beard. "Interesting enough to get a job selling beer on TV?" I asked.

He looked confused for a second, then quickly recovered. He looked at me carefully.

"Your beard looks better than his," he said, smiling. "Maybe you can."

"And deal with the Madison Avenue crowd? No, thank you." I shot back and he laughed.

"You'd have a lot more money," he said.

"And not any time to do things like this," I replied. "Trick is to have enough money to do what you want AND have enough time to do it."

"Good point," he said. "Well, finish what you are doing and just don't leave a mess. Take care."

And with that he drove off.

Not a bad encounter at all.

Aftermath.

When I went inside I Googled around to see if there were any more Dos Equis ads coming up and found the actor that plays The Most Interesting Man in the World died a few months ago I'm going to miss the ads.

Also my new antenna and tuner works great.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Disgusted this morning

2012-01-30T05:57:00.000-05:00

One of the things I am often accused of is being a Republican, of which I am positively not.

I am a conservative independent,

I have been disgusted with American politics for decades.

I once heard it put in an interesting way one time and I tend to agree.

"We have two parties in this country. The party of the rich and the party of the low-life." said a friend of mine once, several years ago.

He got that one right.

This could have been the year for a third party candidate to come out and let Congress know that we are tired of their crap but I sure do not see it coming soon to a theater near you.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

I should have gotten up earlier

2012-01-29T06:54:00.000-05:00

So we have an election coming and as ususal there isn't an even halfway decent candidate out there worth voting for. As usual, I will wind up voting AGAINST someone.

I do not want to see the Obama administration continue because I really believe the man is headed in the wrong direction. I believed it when he ran for office and I believe it now.

It looks like I will be forced to make a decision I do not want to make and it is ugly.

I have to choose between Obama or some unsavory Republican.

Looks like one big $hit sandwich coming up and I am just going to have to take a bite.

==========================

I had to go over to Ohio yesterday and I wish I had arrived at my destination about 20 minutes earlier as the person I was doing business with told me a pretty good one that had just happened a few minutes earlier in the store.

Apparently someone was running on with how enamored he was with the Obama administration and this other guy disagreed. The Obamaite decided to play the race card and started calling the disagreer a racist of some sort.

The disagreer dryly started in on how he really didn't want to become a Klan member but said he was forced to join by his wife.

The disagreers wife was within earshot and was smart enough to let thigs start to boil a bit before she came over to her husband.

"We have to hurry up,"she said to her husband."Or else you are going to be late for your Klan meeting."

The woman was black.

As somewhat of a stirrer-upper myself, I would have walked five miles to have seen that one happen.

There is nothing in this world so soul satisfying as seeing someone get what he has coming.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

One day at Sunday School.

2012-01-28T06:30:00.002-05:00

A couple of the usual suspects were acting up and the teacher blew a fuse and started chewing the entire class out.

This may surprise you but I am not one of the usual suspects. I was generally fairly well behaved as a kid because I knew that if I was disrespectful dad would probably give me nine from the sky. Today was no exception.

Dad was pretty good about playing fair. I could disagree with an adult if I saw fit, but if I did I had to stay respectful and present my argument in a civil way. A number of other adults hadn't figuredit out and thought dad was giving us too much latitude. It should be carefully understood that the adults that thought dad was giving me too much latitude were generally the ones that I had embarrassed with simple reasoning.

I'll digress here for a minute. I was wandering my way through a group at a party my folks threw one night headed out to go somewhere. I was stopped for a second by Mr. So and So who asked me what I thought of such and such which was an issue at the time. I told him I thought it would not work because it was too expensive.

He replied that the government would pay for it.

" The government gets its money from us because we pay taxes." I said.

"But what about the mint?" He countered.

"Sir, money does not grow on trees nor is it simply printed up somehwere. You ought to take the advice you have given all of us kids." I replied.

"You always tell us to get a good education. Perhaps it is time for you to take a few night courses." I answered. 'That way you would know that money is not simply something the government prints up when they decide to give some away."

I saw a sharp look from my father. He wasn't upset with me, he had the look of a man that knew he was going to have to defend his son....again.

Mr. So and so looked at Dad. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

Dad answered him conversationally. "He's right on both counts."

"Yeah, but he told me I ought to go back to school," said Mr So and so.

"A little more schooling wouldn't do any of us any harm," replied Dad. He turned to me. "Son, take off."

I turned to Mr. So and so. "Good day, Sir."

I then cleared the AO instantly.

Back to Sunday school.

The teacher was chewing out the guys that had acted up and was telling them that they'd never been in a fair fight before and that if they had their attitude would be different and they would not be punks anymore and yada yada yada.

"There's no such thing as a fair fight," I interrupted.

"What do you mean by that?" he demanded.

"I mean that if you attack me I will defend myself with any means at hand," I said, evenly. "I will do whatever it takes to stop the attack and render my attacker so that he can not hurt me any more."

The rest of the class was looking at me agape as I was not one with a reputation of going toe to toe with any authority figures. Most of the guys also knew that a pal and I had been threatened by four toughs a couple of months ago and I had repulsed them with a Boy Scout knife. While no blood had been shed that I was aware of, one of the toughs got a nice slice across the sleeve of his black leather motorcycle jacket. It had been enough to make them break off.

Immediately after that incident I told me father exactly what had happened and spared no details. He turned white and told me he would deal with it subsequently. A few hours later we got a call from Mrs Pott. Her son had been beaten by four tough and pretty severely. She described a couple of them as wearing black leather motorcycle jackets.

When my dad got off the phone he looked at me for a full minute.

"What you did with that knife bothered me. I was afraid you either were too quick or trying to be a tough guy," he said. That was Mrs Potts. Dickey got beat up pretty badly by four guys that sounded a lot like the ones that bounced you. What you did was very, very serious. There is no going back on a stabbing but in this one instance you did the right thing, but only-and only- because you had no place to run to. Don't tell anyone about this."

I didn't but my pal did. Word had gotten out.

"Fighting like that is stupid," I said. "I have never started a single fight in my life. I do not believe in it because someone gets hurt. If I am forced to fight I am going to do whatever it takes not to get hurt."

"In World War two..." he started.

"In World War two you were a medical officer with the 442nd Regimental combat team. We have all heard this before. You are going to tell us all what good guys they were and maybe in the rear they were but I bet you they were not very nice when they were up front. They would fight with what they had to work with and would sneak up and shoot Germans in the back or cut their throats while they slept. They did not fire a few shots and stand up and let the Germans have their turn. They fought to win and they did."

"What do you know about the 442nd? He demanded.

"The Christmas Tree Regiment? They were the most decorated unit in American history," I shot back. "Most of them had enlisted from concentration camps. Besides fighting the Germans they fought predjudice. I also know that they relieved a Texas outfit and recently were declared to be honorary Texans. Did you know that? You are an honorary Texan. I guess you are going to have to buy a pair of boots and get a big hat."

He looked stunned and embarrassed.

"Back to fighting. If I am attacked I will use whatever it takes to make my attacker stop," I continued.

"You mean you would use a gun? You would actually shoot someone?" he asked, clearly upset.

"If one is available," I answered. "A gun is a pretty good tool for stopping fights quickly. It would certainly keep someone from hurting me."

"I'll deal with this later," he said. I knew he was going to call my father.

Right after class I rounded up four of the guys and told them to be on call that evening. I wanted witnesses to this as I expected the call.

Sure enough, the call came a couple of hours later. I saw my dad's mouth purse. "Let me get back with you," he said and turned to me.

"Dad, I'm going to get four of the guys that were there." I said.

"You don't have to do that," He said. "You know I'll take you at your word."

"Yeah," I replied. "And have him pull that 'I'm an adult and you kid is a liar' crap? No, thank you. I want you to make good and sure you have enough witnesses so he can't squirm out of this one."

"Have it your way," he said and I headed to the phone. I called the guys and they said thay were on their way.

While we were waiting for the guys to show up I gave my dad a word for word briefing of the exchange, including the 'honorary Texan' part. When I told him about being an honorary Texan, dad grinned.

During the war dad had flown into Texas a number of times and told me he didn't care for the place very much.

As the guys came to the house, I simply told the guys as they arrived, "Go tell my father what happened and do not lie to him. I want to have him know the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

Dad would take the guys into the other room as they came in and talk to them. The rest of us hung out at the kitchen table after they had told Dad what had happened.

Between 'interviews' Dad came out to the litchen and gabbed with us. He was one of those kind of guys that had a good, easy rapport with young men. He was not condescending like a lot of other adults were when dealing with young people. Guys liked him and respected him. He was telling Louie that he ought to think about a career in engineering or something when the last guy came in to be interviewed.

When the last of the four had spoken to Dad, he walked into the kitchen. "You guys beat it, I have a phone call to make."

We went into the dining room and sat down instrad of the living room because we knew that the dining room was closer. The door seperating the two was louvered and we knew we would be able to hear every word. Dad came and closed the door, but he was no fool. He knew why we were sitting there and he put on a poker face when he closed the door.

He dialed the phone.

"I'm sorry I took so long getting back to you," he said. "My son wanted to gather witnesses and it took me time to interview all of them. There are now four young men in the other room, not including my son, who tell me you took every word he said completely out of context and have accused him of being violent."

There was a pause.

Dad continued. "There is a sign at the Paris zoo in front of a cage that says "This animal is vicious. When attacked it will defend itself." It sounds a lot like what my son said. If he is attacked he will simply defend himself. You would do the same thing."

Another pause.

Dad again. "Well then, Let's get Kozinski and the seven of us can meet in the church hall and iron this out."

Kozinski was one of the priests. Father Kozinski was a pretty sharp cookie. Word on the street is that he didn't enter the priesthood until later on in life after he had served a tour in Korea with the 2nd Infantry Division. It would take him less than two minutes to get to the bottom of this. Everyone knew it.

There was a pause. Dad went continued. "I didn't think so. By the way, my son gave you some good advice when he told you that you should get a hat and some boots, the boots, anyway. The boots will make it easier for you to walk through your own bullshit pile. Good day, Tex."

He hung up the phone and walked directly into the dining room. He looked at the five of us.

"I know you guys were not listening in to what I was saying on the phone so I know this will not get out to the world to hear. If it does, I will personally whale the daylights out of all of you," he said.

Then he decided to let his hair down a little. "Sometimes being a kid has a few rough times because adults think they can walk all over you," he said. "Part of being an adult is being fair. Some guys are, some are not. If any of you four ever have problems let me know and I'll do what I can."

Later that night I asked Dad why he offered to go to bat for the other guys. He told me that the "I'm an adult' crap didn't mean squat to him. He simply wanted the truth.To him fair was fair and the rest of the world could kiss his ass. I later thought he had been burned once really bad as a kid but he never said anything to me about it. I wish I had asked him years later as an adult.

Shortly after everyone that had been in the class started referring to Mr. So and so as "Tex'. The nickname came aboveground a while later and just about everyone, kids and grownup alike, referred to him as Tex. Every so often someone would call him that to his face.

Aftermath:

For the rest of his life Mr. So and so was never able to look me in the eye again.

Over the years every one of my four pals would drop by and visit my dad. They often recalled the incident and they all went out of their way years later to go to his wake after he died. One of the guys drove11 hours to be there.

I wish I could have made my father's wake but I was in the middle of the Bering Sea when he passed on. There was no way I could have made it.

I'm sure Dad understood.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Yesterday I went to get gas

2012-01-27T06:16:00.002-05:00

and I saw something pretty stupid which is nothing new. I see stupidity all the time.

The woman behind me had finished filling up and wanted to back up and go around me but she could not as the imbecile behind her was in big hurry to go nowhere and do nothing so he pulled in right behind her and crowded her so she couldn't back up. I noticed the guy behind HIM had left a reasonable distance so the idiot could back up and let the woman out.

I was fueling at the time and therefore couldn't move.

The woman got out of her car and explained to the idiot that he had to back up and he finally did.

Now the guy behind him must have been having an interesting day because he pulled right up behind the idiot, just about against his bumper, shut his car down and walked around him and up to me.

I looked at him and grinned. "I saw what you did," I said. "I suppose I'll just take my own sweet time."

He gave me a wicked grin. "Buy you a cup of coffee?" he asked.

"Certainly," I replied.

So we walked into the little quickie-mart and bought a cup of coffee.

A few minutes later the owner of the wedged in car came in looking for us and we told him we would move after we finished our coffee. He went livid!

The guy that had bought me the coffee smiled. "Don't like it when you get what you dished out, do you?"

The idiot threatened right then and there to call the police.

"Please do," I said. "That would be another stupid move."

"How's that," he said, angrily.

"Simple," I explained. "You call the police, and the pair of us leave. Then you leave. Then the police find nobody when they respond to the call and they track you down by your cell number and write you a summons for filing a false report."

"Why'dja tell him?" asked the guy that had bought me the coffee. "You ruined it. We could have gotten him to bust himself."

"Sorry," I grinned. I turned to the idiot. "We'll be finishing our coffee soon."

He went back to his car and sat there and did a slow burn. A minute or two I returned to my truck and drove off, freeing the idiot.

For some reason I think this was a waste of time because people like that are stupid and stupid people do not learn.

He'll do the same thing to someone elsr the next time he pulls up to the pump. You can't fix stupid.

================================

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Home is the sailor...

2012-01-26T09:01:00.000-05:00

After an ardous trip of fighting sea serpants and almost falling off the edge of the world into the dark abyss, I have arrived home.

It was a basically boring drive that I managed to make in pretty good time and when I got near the home base I turned on the little 2 meter HT I carry and surprised myself by hitting a local repeater.

Someone on the other end reminded me that a local club was meeting at 1900.

I looked at my watch and gave the rig a little more gas got home. I had about a little under an hour to myself and went inside and organized a few things. There was a stack of QSL cards I scanned through and checked off a few more states on my list. Than went to the meeting.

It was interesting as there was a presentation showing how to hook a laptop up to a basic HF rig. Most of the rigs they make these days that are above entry level have various chips in them that permit hooking them up to a laptop and running the rig off of one.

While I have no interest in doing such a thing because I am Old School, it was interesting to watch. My IC-718 is a fairly simple rig and there is not a whole lot of computer stuff in it so I would be very limited. That is a part of the reason I bought the rig, it's simple.

I showed up in travel clothes that were not too bad and I was invited to join and I accepted. These are the guys that keep a pair of local repeaters running so I figured I might as well support them because I use their repeater.

The club used to meet at the local library and use the lawn there for field days but one day the library people told them basically to go away.

I guess there were complaints about one field day when they rerouted traffic and somebody's grandmother was stumbling around with a confused look saying, "Well...well...I don't understand. I ALWAYS drive through that way."

Either that or some panicky idiot said, "There's ELECTRICITY in those wires! Children could get hurt!"

You would be surprised how many electrophobes there are in this world and I am not kidding. There are a lot of people out there that are deathly scared of electricity and there is really nothing you can do to educate them or teach them that electricity is not going to jump out of a socket and zap them. We're talking emotion here and no amount of education will cure such a person.

One of the funniest things I have ever seen was back in high school when one of the guys built a huge Tesla coil and used it as some kind of presentation in an English class. (I think they were trying to teach us how to speak in public or something) Nobody knew the English teacher was an electrophobe.

He lit it off there were all kinds of mad scientist crackling sounds and huge sparks and the teacher totally freaked out. He shut it down and I helped him cart the infernal machine out of the room and down to the AV room where a period or two later the pair of us and a couple of the science teachers played with it. We got to skin out of study hall to go to the AV room.

I guess it was then that I learned you can not cure an electrophobe.

Anyway, the club got the boot and now meets at a local church and I think the facilities there are probably better for the guys.

WHile it was an interesting meeting, the timing was lousy as I really don't like to come home and go straight into gear. I need decompression time and today is decompression Thursday. I will do little today except hook up the rigs. I may not even turn them on.

Incidentally, if any of you readers are wives of guys that travel or work at sea, camp type jobs or drive long haul trucks I will give you a little tip that your hubby will greatly appreciate.

Do NOT hand him a 'honey-do' list when he walks in the door. GIve him some time to decompress. In my case it often takes a while to swap over to the 'shoreside mode'.

While the body can do the switch easily the mind needs a little time.

I'm running out of time as I have to get some grub so I will leave it at that.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

One sea story coming right up!

2012-01-24T18:30:00.001-05:00

To my regular readers: Do not even think of asking what this is all about.

The voyage was long and fraught with peril.

It was a clear morning tide when we weighed anchor and sailed off into the sunrise. I waved good-bye to my true love who was on the pier.

"Good-bye, Clancy's! Save me a bottle of Jameson's for my return!" I shouted and after I did I saw my betrothed standing on the pier and turned to her.

"Good-bye, Penelope! I'll be back when this barge is full of whale oil in three years!"

"If she hasn't run off with Ivan the woodcutter by this weekend," said my shipmate. I nodded. We all know the drill. Then all hands turned to. We sailed the rig and shortly after sailing the tow was strung out on a long hawser.

In a few short hours land disappeared from view and we all sat down for a tasty evening meal. I turned in as the mate came on watch and slipped into a seagoing coma for several hours.

I was awakened to a series of noises and the engineer saw me stumble into the galley and asked for assistance in taking installing a 'keeper' on the tow cable. I agreed to go along and provide security to protect against the perils of sea serpents and other creatures known to prowl the seven seas.

I took the fire axe out of its holder and stood by ready to put a crashing blow into any sea serpents we might encounter. While standing by I spied a slimy tentacle sipping over the rail and awaited until the time was right until I dealt it a crashing blow and severed the slippery limb from the terrible sea creature. At once I recognized it and we all knew the only thing we could do the save the ship was to defeat this terrible sea creature from the murky depths.

In a flash the deckhand put his cutlass in his teeth and dove over the side in pursuit of the creature and parried off the attacks of the several tentacles until he managed to thrust his cutlass into the center of the creature.

He had little time to watch the remains of the creature slip down the depths into Davy Jones's Locker because he knew that if he didn't find a way to get back aboard he would be lost.

The Gods were with him and as he looked up he saw the towing cable and grasped it with one hand while putting his cutlass back in between his teeth and then began the slow process of climbing up the wire hand over hand.

As he emerged all hands helped him aboard where he was given a cup of rum and fed ham and eggs.

"Huzzah!" cried the crew.

The afternoon proved to be uneventful and I managed to get a decent sleep before the evening watch, which was also somewhat uneventful. After the evening watch I went to my bunk and dreamed of the terrible events of the afternoon and shook in fear at the possibility of another peril fraught day at sea.

Fot the next few days we sailed and came across the beautiful white sands of the southern Floridian beaches. We went ashore in the long boat where we consorted with the native women of the southern part of the exotic islands south of Florida and dallied in the sun which provided great respite for all hands.

But the sea called again and once more we sailed off into the sunrise and the following day we were in the perilous seas of the Atlantic.

There was little fear of deadly sea serpents in these waters. Our fear was now that if we sailed too far from sight of land that we would fall off the edge of the earth where we would plunge of the face of the eearth and spend eternity with much moaning, wailing and gnashing ot teeth and hearing the horrid lamanations of others that had fallen before us.

"Thar she blows!" cried the lookout.

"Whar she blows?" demanded the skipper.

"Whale blows off the starboard side!" answered the lookout.

"Lower the boat!" cried the skipper.

But before we could get the boat lowered a Japanese whaler came by out of nowhere. They harpooned the whale, took it aboard and sailed off headed for Osaka followed in hot pursuit by the Rainbow Warrior, the Sea Shepherd, three camera crews, six rubber rafts full of pot smoking hippies and the business agent of The Discovery Channel.

After we sadly watched a pretty good under the table paycheck head off to Osaka, a watch was posted to keep a sharp weather eye peeled for the sound of rushing water that would signal the brave little floating band the proximity of the end of the world and a terrible fate.

The weather turned for the worse and a storm brewed faster than a pot of tea and there were terrible wind and sea noises.

I took over the weather watch to give the beleaguered dackhand a well earned respite from the long watch.

I have sailed to the other seas of the earth and while Dutch Harbor is not the end of the world, on a clear day you can see it from there. I knew what to look out for. At the end of my watch I sat down for a meal and looked at the bottle of salad dressing.

Several years ago I had written the Navy, NOAA, and the defense Mapping agency letters asking them which of the seven seas were the 'official' seven seas and the answer I got was some mush about it being an old sailor's saying.

Disgusted, I wrote the Seven Seas salad dressing company who sent me the entire story of where the term 'the Seven Seas' came from along with the list of the official seven seas and a couple of coupons for free salad dressing. Go figure.

In the morning I awoke to find that during the night the wind had freshened and was now a tad blustry and knew the whistle of the wind would make it difficult to hear the end of the world. I listened but over the roar of the wind I could hear little.

Suddenly I spied the waterfall and cried out to the skipper a warning. "It's the end of the earth," I cried.

"Hard alee," shouted theskipper, turning the wheel.

It was a close call, but we made it. We looked aft and the tow was still headed toward the end of the world. If it went, we knew it would carry us off over the side.

The cable came taut as the tow started over the edge of the fearful precipitice and spun around. Tha after half hung over the edge.

"More steam!" roared the skipper.

"Uh, Skip...this is a diesel boat," answered the engineer.

"Well then, more diesel! shouted the skipper and we looked fearfully at the tow suspended half on and half off the face of the earth and quaked in our very seaboots.

To be continued the next time I need another favor.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Back in the saddle again

2012-01-24T07:40:00.000-05:00

Which means I will be in internet range until I get off of this pig which will happen in a couple of days.

We are now inside and out of the slop which is always a good thing. I am up, there is a cup of coffee in front of me and here I am. It was a long haul and it is nearing the end and then when we get to port I will discharge the cargo and probably get off. After that there will be another.

Someone once described going to work as simply being a machine that hasn't been invented yet. It is one of those things an astute young man said in high school.

One of the other things I remember from high school is something that has stayed with me for all of those years. It was on the subject of rules, regulations and government.

It was some sort of student government thing. There was a campaign going on and the usual candidates debate hokum was taking place.

Someone looked at me and said simply, If we would all live responsibly we wouldn't need all of this crap.

True enough, but we don't.

One of the biggest things that makes me wonder is why we humans as a race do not simply execute those that ruin things for everybody else.

Remember the guy that got drunk at the company party and tore up the cubicles? Now we don't have a Christmas party anymore, yet the guy that ruined it for everyone else is still there.

Why not continue the party and just euthanize the jerk that otherwise would have ruined it for everyone else.

Politics in this country depress me because it generally seems that the people that get to the top are generally the very oness we don't even want to exist in out soeiety.

As far as I can see, we simply ought to take just about all of out elected officials and get rid of them and start fresh. Frankly I don't really care a whole lot about what you do with any of them. Just get rid of them all and replace them with people that truly want to serve.

While as a working stiff I really do not aspire for any real leadership position, I suppose that if it was my turn to take a slot in a local office I would and you can bet that when my term was over I'd be out of there like a shot.

A friend of mine once said that if he went back into the army he would work hard at staying a slick-sleeved private because he did not like the idea of telling someone else what to do. I can see it.

Sometimes I feel the same way.

It is too bad that we didn't figure out that simply getting rid of the jerks makes it easier on everyone else. We'd all be beter off and then every four years we wouldn't have to put up with this disgusting spectacle called an election where the very jerks we want to get rid of in the first place vie for the opportunity to lead us.

Save nine. Six for pallbearers, two for road guards and one lanky, long leger, four-eyes SOB to carry the boom box.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Another hole in the wall

2012-01-23T06:02:00.002-05:00

The show must go on and we are still running through the slop. While it is not as bad as it was a while ago it is still no picnic.

It looks like tomorrow I will be back in business more or less permanantly.

I wonder how old Newt is doing since his victory in South Carolina?

I am somewhat surprised he did so well in SC considering it is a fairly religious state and his ex ran her mouth a couple of days before the polls opened. There was also a breakdown and an awful lot of South Carolinian women voted for him. My guess is the womenfolk figured that Newt's ex was trying to torpedo him as a punishment for whatever it is that exes punish each other for.

While I have an ex somewhere I see no need to punish her for anything. She is doing well and I wish her well just as I wish a almost all of other people that I have had various relationships with over the years.

I am no political analyst by any means and while I have made it clear here that I think the Obama administration had been a spectacular failure, that is pretty obvious to most people.

The answer to unemployment is to create an atmosphere for growth and not just simply extend unemployment benefits.

One of the things I can say for the Occupy Wall Street crowd is that they want the companies to start creating jobs here. The answer I seem to have for them is to vote in candidates that will create a better atmosphere for businesses to grow here.

I recall one small market that had a couple of part-time employees, most of whom were married women that got their health benefits through their husbands place of employment.I believe there was also a retiree, too. I spoke with the owner once and he said that if he was forced to supply health insursnce he would simply close shop. While I do not know what happened the market is no longer there.

Little Mom and Pop places like that generally live on a very small margin and while they do not provide enough work for a full-time employee to live on, they serve a purpose of supplying supplemental income.

Treating them like they are General Motors simply knocks them out of existince and means families are likely to go without things unless one partner had a damned good job.

Generally congress doesn't think when they legislate. They are not in touch with the people struggling to raise families in this day and age. In an awful lot of instances the day of the June Cleaver staying at home to raise Wally and the Beav are long gone. It often takes two paychecks today to raise a couple of kids.

You have to remember that there are a lot of companies that have outsourced not because they want to but because they were forced to for a number of different reasons. Many of these reasons were forced on them through misguided legislation.

I think that the American people have to change their attitude, too and realize that the gravy train is over and that a lot of things like 20 and out pensions are unsustainable. They also, in a lot of cases have to realize that they have to produce something so their companies can make a profit.

The unions also have to stop being so greedy, too.

I heard a guy that worked in a trade once say that the guy packing a lunch pail deserves a decent place to live, a new vehicle every so often and enough to raise a couple of kids and be able to put aside enough to get their kids some sort of a halfway decent education.

He may have been right.

While it was some time ago the steel industry in this nation, centered around Pittsburgh, collapsed. The final nail in the coffin seemed to be when the guys went on strike and management decided to outsource.

It sounds to me like the steelworkers got a little greedy. At tha time there were an awful lot of them that were doing well enough to be able to afford deer camps (read: vacation homes) and things of that nature for performing a job that didn't even require finishing high school. It was pretty hard for someone to be sympathetic for them.

Sometimes I think we are all asking for too much out of life.

Still, congress has to smarten up and think before the enact something.

As much as I liked Ronald Reagan I have to admit that he make a mistake when he tried to impose a luxury tax on boats. They passed the tax and the price of boats went up. People stopped buying new boats and the price of used vessels went through the roof. Meanwhile a number of fine boat builders went under. Cape Dory and Bristol are a pair that come to mind. Both of them went under and my guess is the tax killed them.

Although the tax was eventually repealed, it was too late for the people that went under and a number of excellent craftsmen wound up in the bread line. The end result was that people wound up on unemployment and the government wound up paying out more than they gained.

While it is a slam dunk no brainer that if government doesn't enforce at least some enviornmental laws that some greedy bastards will have us all living in the Love Canal or a sewer of some kind somewhere or have our rivers catch fire. There has to be a happy medium.

The people also have to open their eyes and raise cain, too. I wonder how much cleaner the air is with the so-called winter gasolines we use. I notice the gas milage in my 4 cylinder Toyota drop quite a bit in the winter. In the summer I get about 30 on the Interstate if I keep my foot out of the carburator. It drops to about 25 or maybe 26 in the winter.

How much cleaner is the winter gas going to make the air if I have to burn 15% more of it to go the same distance? It also means my gasoline bill goes up every winter by 15%, too.

Someone I know is bragging about their hybrid and while I am sure that it certainly burns less gasoline, the technology of today seem to require rare metals and I wonder how much damage the mining does to the earth. I don't know, but I wonder if it was taken into consideration. I would guess it wasn't.

(Incidentally, the guy with the hybrid is bragging about the incredible gas milage he gets and will do so until Neighbor Bob and I get tired of secretly dumping a gallon of gas here and there into his tank regularly. Watch him freak out when we stop and his milage drops to what it is supposed to be.)

It is starting to get lumpy again so I think I ought to secure the laptop.

Adios for now, Boys and Girls.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

early post. Caught another hole in the wall of silence

2012-01-21T21:01:00.000-05:00

I got the last post off because we passed by a little chunk of land that had cell coverage. This is an early one because I passed through another hole and this will likely be the last post for a few more days.

I'm sorry for the long posts but I have a little spare time to put into things so I do and when you get several days worth it makes for a long read. Oh, well another day in the life of a swashbuckling sailor.

Everyone is up now because for no reason I can figure but nobody can seem to sleep.

When the off-watch people come on watch they will most likely be cranky and that means I will sit down somewhere out of the way and shut up.

I read where some news editor somewhere made a comment wondering why the Mossad has not whacked the POTUS which is a stupid thing to say. The Mossad may not want the present POTUS we have and I do not blame them if I were in their shoes but the Mossad is in no way stupid enough to whack the POTUS.

I don't want the present POTUS whacked, either. I just want him to go away.

The whole article that was written was little more than stupidity at its zenith.

For what it is worth the President is not the Lone Ranger. He's simply another person on a growing list that I wish would go away. Come to think of it I wish almost all of the people either in office oor running for office would go away.

One interesting thing I saw today. It seems like Ron Paul has a pretty good sized following of young people and that is a good thing. My main beef with Ron Paul is that he is simply unelectable. Much of what he has to say makes pretty good sense. If he were running against the current president I would certainly vote for him.

Instead he keeps on keeping on and the thought of him running on a third party ticket scares the hell out of me because his fan base will wind up splitting the ticket and we're stuck for another 4 years with Obama.

Four more years of hard times, excessive taxation, an unbalanced budget and plain hard times. What scares me is the legacy of it because right now there are too damned many people on the government tit and when it gets over 50% you can bet your boots we will be in a situation that the only way we can reseal the treasury doors is with copious amounts of blood.

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

I just had one of those rare mements that make life out here fun.

Picture 4 guys eating at the galley table and in the background the TV is on but muted. On the tube is one of those History Channel 'Extreme Marksman' programs. We've all seen the program before.

One of the guys takes the lead and becomes the imaginary announcer as a group if GIs are preparing a cannon.

"The shot," He announces. "Cub Scout Jimmy Jones has offered to put an apple on the top of his head at the range of nine miles. We're going to clip it off of his head and not even knock a hair out of place with a 105 HE round!"

I add, "Don't try this at home! These people are trained professionals!"

"Dammit! I was going to borrow the cannon from in front of the VFW and borrow the kid down the street," gripes the third guy. "Guess I can't do that."

While things like this happen rarely they are generally memorable.

Several years ago I once watched a tug crew watch the entire 'Wizard of Oz' and where they didn't know the lines they ad libbed. It was hilarious.(I was invited to stay. I played the Cowardly Lion.)

While we are on the subject I used to love to watch a guy I sailed with watch a western. He'd really get into it. His finger would become a 6-gun and his other hand would hold the reins and his entire body would start gallopping during the chase scenes and he' say, "Git 'em! Git 'em! Git the sumbitch!" The old Roy Rogers and Gene Autry oaters were the best ones as they had a lot of horse chases.

He was older than I am now back 15 years ago when I worked with him and he'd most likely dead but I still miss watching him watch a western.

(((((((((((((((((99999)))))))))))))))

Code just blew me away. I tried a string and forgot everything and I figure it is now back to square one. Ouch! It feels like a week's worth of work up in smoke but I figure it is just a major dip in the learning curve and maybe with a little more practice on my basics it'll pick up again.

This is frustrating!

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For what it's worth the blog may contain a lot of my victories but I am not afraid to show my losses either.

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my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Posted. i found a little hole in the wall to shoot this through

2012-01-21T09:32:00.001-05:00

We have burned a lot of fuel so far and it is pretty obvious in that the trim of the vessel has changed a bit. This also changes the vibrations and noises to a certain extent. A while ago I went out on deck for a second and heard a few new noises.

It is no wonder that things change as fuel is burned off. a rig like this running hooked up can burn about 12 or 13 tons of diesel every 24 hours. That's about 1000 pounds an hour that is removed from the weight of the vessel. It does not include the water that we use, although we do not use anywhere near that amount of water. Food and other consumables add to this, too.

I mentioned them to the engineer who said they were normal. I had figured that but any changes I notice I say something about. It is a safety issue and there's no use winding up in a liferaft saying, "So that's what that was!" when there was something I could have said before something happened and we could have taken action to prevent it.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Well, we seem to have lost the internet and it does not look like we are going to have it back for a few more days.

We actually were not going to have it today for as long as we did and I was glad when I managed to get several days worth of blog posts out in one fell swoop.

To those of you regulars, sorry about that. I simply had to shoot them all out at once because when we did get the net back I really had no clue how long we were going to have it for. I got it posted during a window that lasted a short time. Shortly after I posted we lost it again but got it back.

It's kind of a chore catching up on things when you let them go for almoat a week. There are emails so sort, read or delete, and I also checked up on my QSLs because I sometimes QSL through eQSL or QRZ.com if the person I QSO'd doesn't want to send paper.

Anyway, I took part of today away from the code thing to let things settle a bit.

Dinner was excellent as it was steak night. The salad was good, too. We'll see what tomorrow brings and maybe I'll sleep well tonight to make up for last night's bad sleep.

I think we are due to get back into internet range Sunday or Monday but that could change as if the weather changes on us we may have to change course. We'll see.
------------------------------------

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...as the Lone Ranger and his faithful Indian companion were riding for help,

Speaking of the Lone Ranger, he's a pretty good subject for a post.

One time I saw a kid get told 'no' by his parents over a candy bar and he was grousing. He looked at me and grumbled.

"Don't feel like the Lone Ranger, kid. I can't eat them either." I said. "Doctor's orders."

The little guy asked me who the Lone Ranger is.

I looked up at the parents and said, "I don't know what kind of communist off-brand types you are raising that kid, but he's the first one I have ever met that doesn't know who the Lone Ranger is!"

The mother looked a bit wierded out, but the father looked at the boy.

"You don't know who the Lone Ranger is?" he asked the kid.

"Nope."

The man turned to his wife.

"Quick fix," he said and headed off to where they rent the DVDs. The wife looked to where her husband went with a look of wonder on her face and a few minutes later he returned with a couple of DVDs and a box of microwave popcorn.

He looked at the kid, "Son, tonight you are going to learn about the Lone Ranger," he said.

In this day and age it is pretty cool watching a man take fatherhood seriously enough to be a dad.

==========================

It is the beginning of another watch and I woke up tired and hauled my sorry ass out of the rack all gummy-eyed which, although not unheard of isn't common for me.

In a bit I will sneak into the head and shower and then I will be awake but I want the watch change activities there to die down so I'll wait a little while.

The weather still isn't bad at all which is a gift from God although I hear it is cold and snowy back home, information on this compliments of the Weather Channel.

A glance at the news as I walked past said that the government has raided pension funds again to make up for a shortfall. Par golf. It was noted that they have done this before and I an sure they will do it again.

They ought to throw these financial people out and replace them all with a couple of workingmans wives. The kind of women that raised about seven kids on an auto mechanics paycheck. They know how to account for every dime and know that you can't spend what you do not have.

Well, the ex-wife of Newt Gingrich is going to give an interview shortly and you just know what she is going to say. She's most likely going to really bad mouth him which is to be expected. Personally I don't give an ex-spouse a whole lot of credibility as a general rule.

While I have an ex-wife living somewhere far away I think I would be pretty lucky if I was running for office or came up under some kind of investigation because she'd probably be one of my biggest supporters.

Of course things got pretty shitty for a while after we seperated but I think both of us decided not to follow the vengeful route because there seemed to be no percentage in it. We simply decided to rethink things and when we did we both decided to get along.

Right now we're pretty good friends.

I do not think that Newt's ex is going to do him any favors, but we will see.

What I want to see is what Newt says about her. That will be the test.
========================

The deckhand is busy and the rain locker is freed up so I will take advantage of the situation and take care of business.

Later: I am clean and empty.

The engineer is watching one Robin Meade and I guess she is covering the tryouts for Ameican Idol. I roll my eyes and someone says, "What's the matter, Pic? Don't want to be on American Idol?

A lot of people that I miss generally miss the whole point when they deal with me. I'm fairly happy as I am and do not want to be on American Idol. Besides I can't carry a tune in a bucket.

The other thing,too is that some of the younger guys fail to comprehend that I live alone by choice. One deckhand I know a while ago tried to fix me up with a Filipina and had several pictures of young pretty Filipinas. I suppose if I wanted to get truly single again and hook up with someone that a nice Filipina about my age would be a pretty good choice but the last thing I want is a girlfriend a third my age.

To get him to change the subject I told him I wasn't into 20 year olds and to come back when he had some women to show me that were in their fifties. He looked shocked.

"But they are too old to have babies," he said in a shocked voice.

Ya gotta think a minute. Why in the name of Sam Hill would a guy 60 years old want to raise a brood of babies. Assuming I was to be able to live to the ripe old age of 90 I have no desire to be dealing with a teenager while I am in my late 70s.

Why do people think I am that stupid?

I think a part of it is that they do not stop for a minute and think and look at what or who they are dealing with. Maybe if I was thirty and single I might have an interest in raising kids. But I am not thirty.

If people would look at me and think they would not walk into mine fields and walk out scathed and feeling stupid. It doesn't take much.

I try and look at someone and take a few seconds to try and figure them out before I suggest anything about their lifestyle. While I'm not always right, the effort generally pays off.

It doesn't take much.

Right now I am watching the engineer open a package of ham and it is pretty funny watching him deal with Space Age Plastic. If a guy doesn't have access to a pretty good tool box he could starve to death in this day and age.

Why do companies do that? It is not like they are trying to keep an Infindibulating MkIV Magnatron secure for use on deck of a submerged nuclear submarine at 38 knots. It is only a package of ham and once opened someone is going to make a sandwich out of it and eat it and that will be the end of it.

Instead the poor bastard had to break out the scissors and perform surgery to get the damned ham open. Of course, when he did he simply made a sandwich.

We over package everything and it is ridiculous. I once got a soccer ball for a kid and it arrived wrapped in several layers of bubble wrap in a box stuffed full of tiny little styrofoam packing peanuts. Of course when I gave the ball to the kid he promptly booted it about 40 yards.

A shipmate reports getting a pillow packed the same way.

They talk about obesity and I figure that if they simply start packaging sweets and fatty foods in The Amazing Space Age Plastic that it would do wonders in fighting obesity. The eater of the slop would have to at least get some form of exercise opening the damned package and in many cases rather than go through the ordeal of opening a candy bar they might even forgo it entirely.

Back to trying to fix me up with a 22 year old Filipina.

Maybe if I was 25 and shopping around. Maybe.

I am not a parent. I am an uncle. I have no desire to be a parent anymore. It didn't happen and it isn't going to happen. I stopped thinking about that over 20 years ago.

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

The Keystone pipeline got shot down and now our beloved President Obama is going to Disneyland to promote tourism. He said that they would just extend unemployment benefits.

What an idiot!

Creating jobs would remove an awful lot of people from the dependency of government. They would stop taking money out of our pockets and start paying in.

The pipeline would create quite a few jobs along with quite a few support businesses as well as bringing energy costs down and this jerk is in Disneyland talking about bringing in foriegn money by making it easier to enter the country. Just what we need. A new pipeline for bringing terrorism into the country.

Don't these people think?

The consensus of a website that I frequent is that I could do a better job than he is and I am only a merchant seaman with a high school diploma and 20 years of Hawsepipe U.

((((((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))))

The weather just started getting a little lumpy and a few things have been moved so they will not fall off or out of their regular spots. When I hit the rack this laptop will get stashed somewhere safe. The weather is supposed to improve later.

This is not a good time to play with the code thing as I am subject to instant interruptions.

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

Next watch:

The sea has abated, we just managed to pass through a localized lumpy area. Dinner was a nice smoked brisket someone snagged from somewhere. Delicious.

I have in my bookscase a couple of copies of the day to day doings of a single 14 day trip I took in the Gulf of Mexico doing cleanup work for BP after the spill there. It was a long boring trip and I would write maybe 10 or 15 pages a day.

It actually reads a lot like the boring periods of Das Boot. If you have seen the movie you only remember the action scenes which is what most people remember. I remember the boring parts because there is an awful lot of that out here. I think the best war movie ever made in one respect was 'Mister Roberts' because it addresses the bulk of what went on during the war.

For every guy actually in the line there were about nine that were supporting him and not a whole lot of the work was glorious or very exciting. Most of it was logistical, a lot of it was mental.Like planning the load for a ship invading an island somewhere.

It was slow, tedious office work organizing such an endeavor. Everything had to be thought out and planned for. One would not think a typewriter is needed on the first wave but there would be a number of radio operators on the beach at the onset of the invasion.

While the radiomen could get by with a pad and pencil in a pinch it sure made things a lot easier and faster if they could type their messages as they received them. Therefore along with the ammo, food, water and POL someone would make sure a few typewriters went ashore with the first wave.

Someone had to figure all of this out and plan for it, and someone else had to load the ship, too. Much of this unexciting work was simplly drudgery and boring and an awful lot of guys spent the entire war doing things like this.

A lot of what we do out here isn't very exciting. So far this entire trip has been boring as the day is long, and it is not over yet. I hope it continues to be boring as I have had enough swashbuckling at sea for one life. You can only swing across the room on a chandleier so many times before the chandelier rips off the ceiling and you land on something you do not want to. Landing on your ass sometimes isn't a bad deal. Landing on the bad guy's sword is painful.

I'm busting the deckhands chops right now. He hasn't shaved in quite some time and I told him to go and shave everything but his moustache. I waved my beard trimmer at him.

"David Niven," I said. "I'll make you look like David Niven...or Errol Flynn...No, I won't. You'll become a Clark Gable and get to run around with Scarlett O'Hara on a southern plantation!"

He's kind of young but he knows who the people I mentioned are. He blushed and asked if he could get a sword and swing through the rigging. I said 'Sure!' and he blushed slightly.

"Maybe get a bow and arrow and put on a set of green tights!" I added.

He rubbed his unshaven chin thoughtfully. The seed has been planted and he knows that if I do give him a pencil thin moustache he can always shave it off later. We'll see what happens. Every so often someone gets bored enough out here to do something a little off the wall. I've seen it before. Hell, I've done it before.

I went over to get a cup of coffee and as I passed him I mimed being in a sword fight. He gave me a sheepish grin. Then I put my hand to the side of my face womanlike and feigned swooning. "He's soooo handsome," I cooed and be grinned and blushed.

I doubt he will this trip but one of these days he'll get in the mood to do something off the wall. Out here everybody does at some time or another.

I know I sure as hell have.

========================
The deckhand teased me and asked me if I was homesick and I told him I have never been homesick and I suppose that's true. Probably because I have generally made my life paying attention to what is at hand.

While I suppose I would rather be home doing something else, it is not what is happening so I will pay attention to the matter at hand and when my time comes to go home I will do so and enjoy it. However, I feel no sense of longing for it. It will be there when I get there.
++++++++++++++++++++++++

A short while ago someone dropped a pack of cigarettes onto the grate above the starboard engine and a couple of us rooted around and found it. The engineer griped for the eleventy fifth thousand time about how he wished the grates would be removed or at least covered up because crap is always falling down onto his engines.

The cigarettes were sought after not because they would damage the engne but because if they got into the bilge they coud plug up a pump strainer in an emergency. While some crews take things like this lightly these guys are true pros and don't.

During the search someone looked up and there they were. They had hit the grate and not fallen below but bounced under the washing machine where they were recovered.
+++++++++++++++++++++++

To the landsman it is astonishing how much of a deckhands time is spent keeping things clean. The deckhand is generally a pretty busy guy, although his daily life is not frantic. He'll grab a bucket and rag and wash down a chunk of the fidley and then maybe loaf a bit and return to clean another chunk of it. It may take him a couple of watches until it is done, but in the meantime there are dishes to do and a head to clean up. It is a never ending job.

While his watch is seldom frantic,he manages to keep fairly busy.
)))))))))))))))))))))(((((((((((((((((((((

I have decided for a while that several three minute blocs of code are probably better than trying to sit there for ten minutes and wade through it. You have to remember that most guys are not going to send the Gettysburg Address to you in a single string of dits and dahs. Most communication is done with Q signals that I have already mentioned in a previous post.

While I have not gotten to the Q signal reading part yet, it makes more sense for me to pay attention to taking down short messages of a senence or two.

????????????????????????

News Flash.

Newt's ex just came on and I guess they showed a short clip of her. She did a pretty good job of coming on the air sans makeup and the rest of the polished finery and looking the part of the shocked wronged woman.

She looked exactly like a woman that is trying to punish an ex husband.

I'm not buying it, but I'm sure a lot of other people will.

Newt is probably out of the running.

The talking heads will drag this out for weeks.

Meanwhile Mitt is schmoozing the public.

Come November the American public is going to be handed one big giant $hit sandwich and we are all going to have to take a bite.

))))))))))))))))))(((((((((((((((((

Speaking of Newt's ex, one of the guys out here got divorced several years ago and I got to watch the word 'stupid' personified.

First of all, when he moved out he simply left her and the kid without a dime and adopted the suave 'Rinso Kid' lifestyle with the $75 slacks, the Florsheims, spendy hair styles, manicures and the whole bit. He simply bailed and left her with no real income and a bunch of payments.

Things got reposessed and the poor woman had a pretty rough time putting food in the poor baby's belly. Meanwhile he is out there like some kind of self-appointed celebrity chasing women out of his league and living the high life.

That was stupid enough.

Then came the stupid stunt of the year stunt when the divorce came to court.

Not only did he come to court all lemon-rinsed looking like a tanned, manicured Rinso Kid, he brought his hottie girl friend in with him.

She came out of Central Casting. The heels, short skirt with a little stocking top showing when she sat down, the manucured nails and a set of huge, ripe cantalopes pouring out of a scoop necked sweater, topped off with big big, teased hair. Hot bimbo. Central Casting at its finest.

I guess he wanted to make his wife feel envious and get even with her.

His ex was no fool, either. She went to Central Casting also. They did a pretty good job on her, too. Enter the wronged woman and child. The woman carried the baby clad only in a clean diaper and blanket, both of which looked like they had been hand washed in a sink and dried in the living room on a line of some sort by a loving mother.

She looked like she was trying, as she was wearing a tattered sweater with a little white collar showing, again looking like they had been washed in the sink and carefully ironed. She looked gaunt and haggard like she hadn't slept in a week because whe had been working 144 hours a week just to keep the poor baby fed. Another masterpiece by central casting.

The judge took one look at the scene in his courtroom and decided right off, "I'll fix this idiot!" and clobbered him for just about every dime he had.

Newt's ex looks like Central Casting is still up and running and still doing its usual good job of creating appearances.

Adios, Newt.

I don't see why Newt didn't either buy or bully her into making him look at least halfway decent. He's played the game for long enough to know how its played.

Be good to the people you meet on your way to the top because they are the same people you are going to meet on your way to the bottom.

I ought to write my first wife and see what she would say about me if I was running for POTUS. I'll bet you she'd be pretty good about it. She'd probably be one of my best supporters.

Maybe I will and post it here. Either way it ought to be good.

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

I sort of screwed up a little on my last couple of code tries and ran the program at 20 wpm but seemed to do pretty much what I did at 15 wpm. (Poor)

It tells me that while I know a lot of the characters cold that I have to hammer a few more into my head so that it becomes total reflex. In reading code there has to be no hesitation whatsoever. when you hear the combination you can not think. You simply have to write it down.

Because I am working at becoming a field type operator as opposed to a desk operator I have to be able to write all this down on paper. There isn't a 110 outlet out in the field where I often operate, hence no real computer. Batteries are expensive and do not last long.The program wants me to write the characters down on the keyboard so it can score me.

This is a case of looking at something and deciding what you want to get out of it and not what the teacher wants you to get out of it. You have to be able to adapt the tool to fit the job. I am writing down the characters on paper and check them afterwards. Right now the results are not very good, but it is just a part of the learning curve.

Most mechanics have a couple of wrenches in their tool box that they have heated up on a torch and bent to a different angle for certain jobs. What I am doing is pretty much the same thing. I am adapting the program to fit my needs.

When I was in school I would do this from time to time in some classes. It drove the teachers nuts and I'd explain that I was learning what I figured I needed in later life and not just regurgitating every word they said. I had one high school teacher that I told this to and he grew thoughtful and told me he wanted to think about my attitude overnight.

The next day he told me that I could run with it and he would spend time with me every so often to see where I was at.

Unknown to him, I was busy learning both plane and sperical. The plane was for being able to figure out stuff like rafter lengths and things like that and the spherical was because I wanted to learn navigation. My dad broke out his WW2 carton of stuff navigational and I learned to solve spherical triangles with his help. In class I learned the plane aspect of geometry.

While my final grade was a B, he quietly told me that the administration had gotten wind of things and he had to stick with the sylabus and give me the B.

The class looked at me like I was nuts when he handed out the finals and made it a point that while everyone had one final, he was handing me two. I did pretty good in the one everyone else had and blew his mind in the second one. He was pretty good about the second final in that he let me use the navigation tables to solve the spherical stuff which were navigational problems. I remember part of the answer to a rafter length problem. It was
something like 13 feet, 3-5/8s inches and the notation next to the numerical answer was 'cut the pencil line'.

I was there when he corrected both finals, but the second one was the one that mattered. He saw the notation and calculated the rafter length and it was some thing just a whisker over the 5/8ths. He was not a tool guy but he could think. He said he would run that by the shop teacher. He did, too and the next day he told me the shop teacher laughed and said the rafter would probably fit pretty good so I got that one right.

I turned out to be right taking the class on my own terms as when I was in the Army my classes on surveying at Fort Sill were a snap as were my Coast Guard tests for my license. I also navigated a sailboat from Honolulu to Tacoma by sextant.

I also became sort of the go-to guy for building cut-up roofs and dormers for a while when I did carpentry up in Alaska and there are most certainly a number of roofs and dormers still standing that I cut.

What is interesting to note is that the teacher was one of those sad souls that nobody really remembers. He wasn't a colorful guy, and seemed to have a drab personality but he was sure good to me and sure helped me end up making a pretty good living in the long run.

He was the only teacher I asked to sign my yearbook.

Anyway, I am adapting this code course to do what I want it to do for me and not what someone else wants me to be able to do. I will learn to write code on PAPER and not on some damned keyboard.

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

I think I am going to join the American Radio Relay League when I get home.

While they sent me a bunch of nice stuff when I got licensed, I held off until I saw what it was that they did and if I had anyinterest in any of the programs.

They have a couple of times out there a couple of times a week for slow code practice for newbies and they also are the QSL bureau for the International Space Station and both of these interest me. I ought to join.

Another thing I might join is the local club, but I will check it out first. I am not too sure if I would fit in for a couple of reasons. First, I will most likely miss most of the meetings because of work and the other is that I might not fit in unless there are a few people that understand my interest in the hobby. If there are green radio and boat anchor people there I won't have a problem.

The other thing is they are the local Ecomm people and they do a few Ecomm drills a year and they have a pretty good sized trailer full of high tech stuff and my guess is they can go on the air in maybe an hour or two with maybe 200 watts setting up huge antennas with masts.

I saw them a couple of years ago and their setup looked kind of cumbersome to me.

I can go on the air with 30 watts in about thirty seconds. If I want a big antenna it takes five minutes or so, depending on a few variables. Ten or fifteen minutes tops if there are trees nearby.

Sometimes things like this embarrass people like that. They run a trailer with a lot of high tech stuff in it and it needs a place that is vehicle accessible. I don't. If I can walk there I can set up there. They also run off of Honda generators while I run off of a hand generator.

If there are a couple of green radio guys or QRP people I'll fit right in. If not I am going to have to show them that I could compliment them bu filling in the interim time while they are setting up.

We'll see how that works out. My guess is that I will probably fit in after they figure me out.

I may have to change the QTH on my QSL cards from BFE to Outer Mongolia or someplace.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Up. Coffeeing. Computer booted up. Another watch begins. The news is on and I am not going to get a big dose of it or I will get very sarcastic today.

Last night before I racked out I set the code to random words as opposed to random letter groups and I did pretty good. My last 3 minute run was almost understandable. There is hope that I can learn to read code.

This has been a long trip and there are a couple of roasting chickens I can see thawing out on the counter for dinner tonight.

A lot of people tell me that they hear we eat pretty good out here and we actually do but things have changed over the years. As machinery has replaced a lot of the bull work that used to take place out here the amounts of food we consume have dwindled. We don't burn it off like we used to.

In a sense loggers have changed, also. They changed long before we did after the chain saw went into service. Before that it was two man hand powered saws and axes.

While logging is certainly still rigorous it isn't what it was like years ago before the chain saw and other powered conveyances arrived on the job. It's also true out here.

Back before powered capstans and wire machines arrived deckhands used to have to haul in long hawsers by hand. It was hard, cold work and consumed the calories.

Not anymore. As a result the amount of food required has dropped off and most crews have seemed to adjust to the different caloric needs required to stay in halfway decent shape.

Some, of course, have not and there are a few obese people out here. I think part of it is the leadership of the vessel and part of it the individual personality of the crew member.

A while back some idiot started talking about how wonderful the good old days were out here on tugboats. I let him run on about how they ate like kings and got all of this fresh air and exercise and how healthy they all were. I let him run on a while until I sprang my trap.

I pointed out that sometimes deckhands washed over the side hauling in hawser and how there were more hernias, slipped discs, crippling accidents and fatalities than you could shake a stick at and asked him if he was really stupid enough to wish for the good old days.

He mumbled something and shuffled off.

Herman cain just raised his twisted little head and reminded us that he is still an idiot with his endorsement of the American people. He says we are still in charge. Yeah, right. Who is he trying to kid? He's another one I wish would simply go away. Anyone stupid enough not to have himself investigated and have the holes plugged up is too stupid to be president.

We COULD take charge but we would have to start showing up at our representatives offices with torches and pitchforks in some cases and blindfolds and cigarettes in other cases. Most of our representatives live in their own little world and have never had to raise their kids on, say, a mechanics pay.

Incidentally, while I really don't care for Romney I agree with his refusal to apologize for being successful. He is successful. He played the game and succeeded.

Sly Stone of 'Sly and the Family Stone' had a song out years ago named 'You can make it if you try'. He was right then and it still holds. Look at of the people from India and Pakistan that have moved here, looked around and gone straight into the convenience store business and are successful.

Here are so many of them that it has become the an American stereotype and the butt of many jokes.

(Hear about the lottery in India? You buy a dot for a rupee. If it matches the one on your forehead you win a 7-Eleven in New Jersey.)

I have asked a couple and gotten the same answer several times. The look at me like I'm nuts and tell me the same thing: "It's the American dream of owning your own business!"

I know of a couple of them in Pittsburgh that are owned by engineers that in addition to running their own business they work 40+ hours as engineers downtown.

My favorite liquor store is run by Indians and they know how the game is played. They do a damned good job. They give me a pretty dammned good deal on those little quarter pints that I use as tips and bribes while the rest of the stores in the area are too stupid, cheap and greedy to give me a case lot price.

He once told me that he didn't mind doing this because although he didn't make as much money on the case lot deal he still made a little money on the transaction and it was a neat one-shot deal. The money spent on the little bottles pays me dividends as I have posted before. A little nip like that can be traded for an awful lot.

Those guys work long hours and there is quite an amount of bull work shuffling cases of beer and hooch around but I'm pretty sure they do well.

You can still make it if you try. The opportunity is still there.

About 20 years ago I collected unemployment for a few weeks and I was actually in the shoes of an unemployment insurance collecter. When I got a job it was not whole lot more than I was making on unemployment. I remember thinking that I was going back to work for about fifty bucks a week.

What?? You went to work for a measley fifty bucks a week?

In a sense, yes. You look at the numbers. We'll make them simple. Say I was taking home $100 weekly on unemployment and I took a job that made me $120 take home weekly. I have just gone to work for $20/week. That's fifty cents an hour.

I have to admit it makes a person think twice about getting off of their ass and going back to work. It's pretty easy to say 'Why bother?"

While I do not remember the numbers I did go back to work for peanuts.

Actually the reason I bothered is because I saw that it was an entry level job with room for advancement. I had no intention of staying in an entry level position. I didn't. In under six months I was fast tracked into a training program and here I am now.

I'm going to do some code now. Maybe more later.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

After several three minute blocs it is time to take a break because it is sort of wierd the way my brain works. I start out (relatively speaking) halfway decent and improve but after awhile I take a dip and brain farts happen and I go the.

Newt Gingrich ought to lose a few pounds. He looks like hell.

Newt is also right in a way when he went after the media last night. They are nothing but $hit stirrers that seem to contribute little except to stick their nose where it isn't wanted.

While I am no fan of Bill Clinton I have to admit the media had a field day over the Monica Lewinsky affair. Then again, Clinton didn't handle it too well, either. He should have taken one of two tacks. He should have either said it was nobody's business and that it ends now or he should have taken the Piccolo route and simply said, "Yeah, So?"

Over the years I have admitted to things I have not even done just to shut people the hell up. I've also denied it by admitting to something worse than I was accused of and said, "So? What's the big deal?" One of my favorite lines was "Besides you, who cares? It sounds like you're just trying to stay off the radar by puttin' me on it. Whaddya YOU got to hide?"

That generally gets people thinking.

The best defense of all, though is to have something on them. Years ago I was dating a woman about 8 or 10 years older than I was. It was a go nowhere situation and we were both seeing each other for fun. She was a hoot. She was also fairly successful and some stuffy woman about her age accused me of trying to be a gold digger.

"She wears big girl panties," I shot back. "Now you answer me a question. I answered yours. How come I saw So and so sneaking out your back door at 3 am? He's only 19 and still a teenager!"

It hits the accuser like a bucket of ice water and the look on her face tipped her hand. It was obviously true. The shoe was now on the other foot.

Anyway I'll have a cup of joe and after I hit the head I'll get back at it.

Shower due during afternoon watch. The engineer said we're doing OK as far as water goes. Good deal.

Someone asked me if I wanted to pick the channel on the TV. Seeing the news is trash I decided that figured an improvement on watching the political arena was in order. I went straight to the Jerry Springer Show. At least the results of that circus are not going to impact a whole lot of us in any appreciable way.

I just made one of the guys snarf. One of the Springer guests did a split and he commented "That's prettty good for a fat chick."

'Yeah, but Steve's gonna have to help her up because I'll bet she sticks to the floor," I replied. "Listen carefully and you can hear the pop!"

Snarf. I caught him at just the right time.

Someone made bratwurst. My belly does not need one of those so I will forego. However, maybe a couple of the peppers he made will serve to loosen a few things up and with few calories. I could use it.
++++++++++++++++++++

There is an AARP ad on the tube and I am not a member because I see what they did. They started it with an agenda in mind and not nesessarily one that is good for either the public of the retired person.

The first thing they did when they got any number of members is they got various companies to give them all sorts of deals and then the membership grew because they were simply getting pretty good deals on things and members were eligible.

They claim that their membership has a lot of clout and in a way it sure does but there are an awful lot of members that don't see things the way AARP leadership does but are only members for the deals they get on insurance and other things.

A while back they were big on gun control and that is no good thing for a retired guy because there is one easy to use tool that can put an 80 year old man on an even footing with a 22 year old thug. It is called a handgun. Every retiree ought to own one or even two or three if they can afford them.

They also want to simply add to the debt we pass on to our children by getting Uncle Sam to take care of them. I have heard that there is a conservative parallel organization that gets seniors pretty good deals. I'll have to check into them. Maybe they make sense, AARP doesn't.

I'm not going to sell out that cheap.

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

There is one of those dopey Jean Claude Van Dam movies going on in the background which I glanced at and as usual with much of the TV I am ignoring.

The story I got about that clown is that he really though he was a tough as he was portrayed to be on the silver screen and was strutting around the set bragging that there wasn't anyone on the set that could whip his butt. He then offered a chunk of change to anyone that could and about two seconds later a stuntman took his offer up and had him twisted up like a pretzel.

He supposidly got all pouty and went into his trailer and moped.

While I can not verify the story, it sounds about right.

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

Code is getting a little better and one of the guys commented that I might be a bit better off if I put a little more space between letters so I could have a little more time to think and recall. He may be right but in a way this is like learning a foreign language.

When an immigrant comes here there is sometimes a pause between the time you finish speaking and he answers. That is because he is translating what you said in his head and forming a reply in his language and then translating it back to English, hence the lag time.

I have watched a guy that works at a local gas station go through this phase and it seemed overnight that he stopped pausing before he answered me. I recently asked him what language he dreamed in and he told me he still dreamed in his native tongue. I told him that when he starts dreaming in both English AND his native tongue that he will have become truly bilingual.

I cannot afford the luxury of time to translate. I have to be able to react to hearing the Morse letter and not have to think. I have to be able to simply write the letter down because I know what it is without translating it.

I'd bet that my Uncle Fred didn't hear the individual letters. I'd bet he heard entire words.

))))))))))))))(((((((((((((((((((

It is a new watch but it is starting early because I have channel fever. I can't sleep.

I'm up after a catnap and refuse to go back to sleep so I'm up and that it that.

Channel fever is generally very near the end of a trip where a guy is keyed up and ready to get off and he can't sleep. I seldom get it and when I do it is long before we get off the boat. I get it about 2/3s of the way through a tour and it is generally preceeded by a couple periods of comatose afternoon sleep so it is really not much of a problem. Tonight I will sleep well.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

I should have checked in with Boots and Coots when I was in Houston. They probably don't have a whole lot to do between oil well fires and maybe they could have used the company. Maybe drop by for a little bourbon and tap water and have a good old fashioned Texas barbecue with a couple of Texas good old boys.

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

The deckhand baked a cake but I won't have any because I do not care for carrot cake for one and even if it was a chocolate cake I would most likely pass as I do not need the extra calories. It looks pretty good, though.

My favorite cake is a simple yellow cake with chocolate frosting. If I don't get a piece of it that is still warm than I wait a day or two for it to age a bit. I like it when it is a day or two old unless it is still warm fresh out of the oven.

(((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))

Someone asked me "Gee! How come you just don't type the letters down instead of using the pen and paper?" I simply told him because it is a better way to learn and left it at that.

I didn't want to go through all of the explaination of taking a field radio out into the field and strapping a key to my thigh because the next question was sure to be "Why don't you use a microphone and just talk?"

I suppose eventually somebody is bound to ask that question and I already have an answer.

With a straight face I am going to tell him I am taking a secret agent corrospondence course so I can work for the CIA and that I sent in a coupon I got from a magazine along with $19.95 and a specially marked box top from a case of Remington NATO 7.62 ammunition.

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

Somebody asked me why I don't watch a whole lot of TV out here. I tuned in some so-called action thriller I have never seen and simply started being a commentator.

"Now we have the good guy throwing an entire pail of unlit gasoline about 75 yards at the boat. He hits the boat and the gasoline magically explodes. In a minute we have the helicopter trying to escape scene where he scampers up the skid and gets into a fight with the bad guy and someone gets thrown out but it is too far from the end of the movie to off the bad guy so they both fall out over the water and the helicopter crashes into a cliff and explodes."

"Then the sharks come and the two of them fight over the bouy and the woman has terrific boobs pouring out over the top of her skintight top, just like we see everyday when we go to WalMart only her butt isn't three axe handles wide. It's gorgeous."

"Next the cops overlook 17 major felonies the good guy committed and call him a hero and he runs off with the girl with the great looking boobs. The End."

Now you know why I don't watch a lot of TV, although I have to admit the chick with the big boobs is eye candy.

I ought to write a parody of the exploding cars. The Exploding car movie. Some little kid on a Hot Wheels trike broadsides a car. Boom! a guy taps the bumper of another car as he is pulling out of a parallel parking situation. Both cars go Ka-Boom!

Some guy kicks the tires in used car lot. Another fireball. A 627 car chain crash on I-5 and 627 cars go flying hundreds of feet into the air as huge fireballs. A thousand cars turn into fiery wrecks hurtling through the air.

You know, just like in real life.

In my 60 years man and boy I have seen a couple of cars catch fire from leaking fuel lines and one or two torched but have yet to see one explode. Who is Hollywood kidding?

((((((((((((()))))))))))))((((((((())))))))))

Slump in the code.

Solution? Put it away for a while and return when I am fresh.

)))))))))))))))))))((((((((((((((((((((((

Code is frustrating as there are about six letters I seem to have sort of forgotten or maybe even not hammered theminto my head hard enough. Time to go back to basics and play the hammer the holy hell out of them for a while.

I knew there would be ups and downs and I was willing to accept that. This is a down so I just have to hammer it a bit harder. WHen you get down to it I am actually doing fairly well, all things considered.

I got drafted to do a little marlinspike work. No sweat, all I had to do was get a couple splices started and the deckhand took over and did all the tucks. I made sure he knew how to start it because part of my job here is to teach. Next time I suppose he will start the splice and ask me to check it for him which I cheerfully will.

I have a pretty good reputation for being able to handle a lot of the Old School stuff.

One of the things that happens to a block and a fall is that the lines get twisted over time.

I had a guy tell me that the only thing he can do to get the twists out is to two-block the damned thing and then lower the fall. It is best to put a tagline on the fall so you can pull it down again unless you have a pretty hefty weight on it. He asked me for some sneaky trick to make it easy for him and I laughed and had to tell him that that's the way we have been doing it for centuries.

There are some things that happen while working with lines that there are no clever tricks to make things easier. Sometimes the difference between a newbie and an old salt is that the old salt knows better than try something clever and goes straight back to basics.

Shooting is like that. It is all basics and repetition. There simply is no magic about it. If you go through basic training and truly pay attention you will know about as much as an expert except for one thing. You will have to go through a frustrating period of trying to discover secrets that simply do not exist.

In a lot of cases the same holds true for lines.

Speaking of shooting I think that in addition to taking the PRC-320 on the road I am going to return to the match curcuit but I think I will not restart with an AR-15, but return to where I started. I'm going to shoot a Garand for the first few matches with basic issue ammo of which I have quite a bit sitting around.

I want to start off with a .30 cal and relearn dealing with the blast and recoil and just plain have a little fun before I return to the AR-15. When you learn the basics with a Garand or even a Springfield, you only have to pick up an AR and use what you have learned shooting .30 cal as the Garand is a more difficult rifle to shoot well.

Back in the day when I was shooting at Camp Perry annually I used to practice for the Garand match with a 1903A3 Springfield as it was a bolt gun and the sights were basically the same. It was more difficult to do because I had to work the bolt between shots so when I picked up the Garand it was pretty much a snap. I knew if I could get all 10 of them off in a minute with the old Springfield that I would have plenty of time with the Garand.

The strategy worked because the year I did that I did pretty well in the couple of Garand matches I shot that year. That year I only shot the Garand in matches, never in practice. I'd go into a match cold with the Garand and so rather well.

I think I'll start the season with a Garand and then swap out to the AR-15 halfway through the season after I get tuned up with the Garand and I'll bet you the first time I pick up the AR my scores will go through the roof. (relatively speaking, of course)

I can now feel the motion of the boat changing and word is that it is going to get a little nautical out and the sea will be somewhat lumpy for a while, probably until we duck into the bay.

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Rigs like this burn a lot of fuel, maybe upwards of 4000 gallons a day while running hooked up. That sounds like an awful lot until you remember that it is generally towing 2.1 MILLION gallons of liquid cargo.

Although while towing the rig goes through about 17 gallons per mile you have to remember a fuel truck that gets about 6 or 8 mpg only hauls about 3500 gallons. When you figure out the amount of fuel burned to get the cargo moved it sure is a whole lot cheaper than moving it by truck or rail.

It would take about 600 fuel trucks to move what we do. That means 600 trucks, 600 drivers and about 100 gallons of fuel to move that much cargo 1 mile.

We move the same amount of cargo a mile with six or seven guys and 17 gallons of fuel. and when you figure a nautical mile is 6076 feet as opposed to the 5280 of the statute mile that makes it even cheaper yet.

I suppose some bean counter is going to come along and run my figures and tell me I'm all wrong because I rounded 16.6666666666666666666666666 to 17 to make things easier but you get the general idea.

If you are that bean counter, than why don't you take a nice trip to the theological place of eternal punishment and leave the rest of us alone.

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

One of the things that someone mentioned is the porn library on one of the boats one of the guys sailed on some time ago.

Truth is I have not seen much porn on these rigs in about a decade or more. Rare is even a copy of Playboy, but things like Maxim appear frequently. Maxim is simple cheesecake and all of the models are fairly decently clad for the most part. Sometimes you will see a couple biker type magazines kicking around. They're nothing to speak of.

Someone mentioned that a while back he sailed on a rig with a pretty good sized collection of smut DVDs but the truth is that is somewhat of a rare boat.

Maybe a decade ago the porn on these rigs slowly started disappearing. I can't explain it and it really makes no difference to me as I couldn't care less but it is interesting to note.

When I first came into this business there was generally a stack of various porn magazines about a foot thick along with a pretty good collection of VHS movies but they seem to have slowly disappeared.

Maybe the dynamics of the crews has changed, who knows?

While I don't miss them at all it is interesting that they have disappeared.

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

I looked briefly at the upcoming S.C. primary that is being held today.

It might be a horse race between Newt and Mitt.

Ron Paul is still there making a pain in the a$$ out of himself. While he had to test the waters he is pretty much considered unelectable and ought to simply drop out but he won't. He'll most likely continue being a thorn in everyone's side and run as a third party candidate and insure that we have four more years of Obama because the Paulbots will be childish and vote for him even though he has no choice whatsoever of being elected.

The will split the ticket and insure the reelection of Obama and we will have to deal with four more years of just plain stupidity and hard times.

I caught a little bit of the story but did not get the entire thing but I understand one or two of the missing passengers from the ill fated cruise liner have turned up in Germany. If it is actually so I am not surprised. I would probably just quietly hop on a plane home as soon as I hit the beach if I was evacuated from a sinking cruise liner.

I am somewhat surprised that more people simply didn't do just that.

There really isn't any percentage I can see with hanging out on some dock waiting for some stuffy indignant cruise company fat lady to show up and try and put me up in some fleabag hotel somewhere in downtown Italy. Why? What's the point? You might just as well either go home or simply spend the rest of your vacation doing something else.

Piccolo? Piccolo? Where is Piccolo? I haven't checked him off the list!

"Piccolo! Piccolo! Anyone seen Piccolo? Pic---col---o! Pic--col-oo! Anyone seen Piccolo?" Calls out the frantic fat lady from the cruise comany as she slowly goes out of her mind.

Meanwhile up in the Swiss alps Piccolo (having swiped the cask of brandy from a passing St. Bernard) sits atop some mountaintop learning to yodel through one of those big horns. "Yodel-a-e-a-e-yodel-a-e-yooo!"

The Swiss yodeling teacher sees another passing St. Bernard and points it out to Pic. "Das eiss man's best friend," he says to Piccolo.

"Yeah," Answers Pic. "And look at the size of the dog carryin' it!"

Meanwhile, back at the dock..."Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo! Pic--co--lo!"

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

Another watch begins.

Welcome, my friend, to the show that never ends. (Thanks, Bob)

Looks like there is going to be about two minutes of activity on deck, not much. Someone is just going to check a couple of things but because I am bored I will go along to provide security. I will man the fire axe in case we get attacked by sea serpents. If I see a tenacle slithering on board I will grab the fire axe and chop it off.

Anyway that is what I just told the engineer and he said he was relieved that someone would courageously perfom this duty. He said he feels much safer.

While none of us have been personally attacked by sea serpents whe have heard stories of this happening. Of course, part of my duties will be keeping a lookout for mermaids.

There is a special way to catch a mermaid. It is called the perfect circle diamond hook. There is not a mermaid out there that cannot resist putting a diamond ring on her finger. When she puts the perfect circle diamond hook on her finger the pressure of the line cants the circle and jams it so she can not remove it. Then you reel her in.

I have been trying to catch a mermaid for quite some time but they are pretty rare. One of the things that I have never understood is why the government has not put them on the endangered species list.

While we are on the subject of endangered species, you haven't seen a whole lot of naugahide wallets lately. How come naugas are not on the list?

Perhaps this important issue will be brought up during the upcoming election.

Some time ago I saw a campaign to save the skeets but it didn't get very far. While people shoot skeets by the million there never seems to be a shortage of them because they are so prolific. They seem to reproduce as fast as they get shot to pieces. Skeets are not being considered for inclusion on the endangered species list at this time.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Speaking of saving skeets, I sort of figure that if a guy took out a page ad in something like USA today starting a campaign on this major issue he could probably turn a profit.

"Every day thousands of skeets are brutally murdered by people calling themselves sportsman. End the senseless slaughter of these poor clay birds. Your generous donation could put an end to this disgraceful and senseless slaughter! Send your charitable donation to Piccolo Enterprises now! Act now! Operators are standing by!"

I maintain there are enough idiots in this country to make this a profitable venture until Uncle Sam stepped in.

Of course, the government considers it's job to protect stupid people from things like this.

Canada Bill Jones looks at it in a different light. "It is morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money," I read somewhere.

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

I looked astern and saw the rhythmatic rising and falling of the heavy bridle of out tow. It tells me we are in perfect syncronization with the motion of the sea. The average guy looks at the heavy bridle as overkill and from a structural point of view it probably is. The reason it is so big and overbuilt is because weight is desired to absorb the shock.

The reason a lot of cable is put out is partially for weight. The heavy cable has a lot of sag in it and the sag provides a lot of shock absorbtion for both the tug and the tow to keep it from jerking and banging. It is a pretty primitive system when you look at it but it is cost efficient and it works quite well.

One drawback is that the middle of the cable sinks pretty deep and if you get into water that is too shallow the cable can drag on the bottom. You have to pay attention to the water depth to prevent this.

The space between the tug and tow is a dangerous spot to be and one thing that ought to be rammed into the heads of recreational boaters is to stay the hell away from that particular spot.

Every so often some kamikaze in a speedboat doesn't realize that the tow is attached to the tug with a cable and decided to cut between the two units. While if the moron times things right and goes smack between the tug and tow he will often get away with it, lousy timing can result in either having the motor snagged by the cable followed by being run over or even a lifting cable tearing the bottom out of the entire boat.

We just hit an internet pocket so I am posting now

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Please hotlink to ARFCOM. I finaly got it sent out

2012-01-18T11:43:00.000-05:00

This is a long post

because it is a conglomoration of the posts I wrote when I was out of internet range. Some will be boring, some may be repititous, some will be off the wall but they are the fruit of a bored sailor on a long run and it might give some insight as to what it is like being somewhat of a supernumerary on a somewhat long trip on a tug. If someone here is an ARCOMMER please post a hot link to it on GD.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

CLEAR THE KILL ZONE!!

Over the years I have worked with lines and cables under strain on a daily basis. A few times I have seen them part and fortunately I have seen nobody hurt too seriously in a while. That is a good thing. Years ago I had a guy I knew inviscerated by a nylon line that parted and whipped back on him.

These days we do not use a whole lot of nylon simply for safety reasons but a poly-dacron line can still do considerable damage when it lets go and comes in contact with flesh.

I won't go into missing teeth here.

One of the things that I oftentimes do is stand by overhead while the guys on the deck of the tug make the cable up to put us into tow gear. I don't have to do this, but I do because I do not want to see anyone injured.

Anyone that has worked with me for any time knows what to do if I ever shout, "Hit the deck!" They respond without asking why or even looking up at me. They go down like they have been shot.

I seldom raise my voice anymore about much of anything, but when I see the tow cable starting to slide across the bulwarks I generally break my rule and shout out a warning.

Cables and ropes do not care who they slice in two. They do not make exceptions for nice guys or people that go to church. A moving cable can injure that nice little boy that was an altar boy at the 8:30 every Sunday. They make no exception for race, creed, color, sex or national origin. They will kill a man without mercy, without compassion and without remorse.

In a sense they are pretty good about the way they hurt or kill people because there is no Al Sharpton or ACLU you can run to if you get hurt. That's just too damned bad. Most of the time it is your own damned fault for not paying attention. I have never heard of the Southern Law Poverty Center protesting the deeds of a cable or a deck line. The Ku Klux Klan doesn't say a whole lot about it, either.

One of the biggest things I have to do out here is make it clear that there a few times where there is no room for discussion whatsoever. There is only room for action. That's just the way it is. In that respect working with things as cut and dried and simple as heavy lines is a joy.

A while back I shouted "Hit the deck!" when I saw one of the pair of guys look up at me confused. His shipmate grabbed both of his feet and yanked them out from under him. He hit the deck, all right and got back up in outrage not noticing that a 2.5" cable had slid across a foot over his head. While it most likely would not have done serious damage to him, I'm sure it would have been painful.

He was a newbie, of course. Old hands would have not gotten up so fast and they would have simply hit the deck. He looked up at me with the most confused look I have ever seen and turned to his fellow incontrite deckhand wondering what happened.

Some time later I took the young man is question aside and explained to him in no uncertain terms that I was looking out for his safety and that I really didn't give a damn if he sat at home his entire time off hating me. It was a pretty good humiliating ass chewing in a conversational voice.

He could hate me all he wants just so long as he is alive to do so.

The next time I saw him was a year or so later. I asked him if he still hated me and he was salty enough to say he did but that he was glad to be alive to hate me.

"Glad to hear it," I said, and walked off. I was amused, he had spunk.

It's been a sort of inside joke between us for the past few years as he has learned. Some people don't. Some get hurt and every so often someone out and out dies out here.

Which makes me wonder what most people would do if they were walking into a building and a wild-eyed person was walking out, arms spread, telling everyone, "You don't want to go in there! Stay out!"

I would simply make a 180 and walk out. While he may simply be a nut, there very well may be a damned good reason for his actions. As far as I am concerned I can go in a little later after I was sure it would be safe to enter.

I contend that most people are idiots and would stop and ask why and many would get all huffy and simply walk in past him, possibly to their demise.

Personally I tend to heed warnings and figure that is a part of why I have made it this far.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I just watched Joran Van Der Sloot getting sentenced and like most things governments do there was a whole lot of the general pomposity that goes with such gala festive occasions. This proves beyond a reasonable doubt that the United States of America does not have a monopoly on windbags, although most of ours wind up in governmental positions of some sort or another.

The proceedings as I write have been going on for about an hour and a half. He still has not been sentenced yet.

Now, according to the rules the police generally play by in this country when they stop someone, they generally give a guy a lecture OR a ticket.

If they play by the same rules in Peru that they play by here, I sort of figure Mr. Van Der Sloot is going to skate off scot free.

Judge Piccolo would have spared everyone else the hot air.

"Thirty years! Adios! Bailiff, take him away!"

Then again, I am known for my warped sense of humor. I might have entertained the court with, "Go to jail for thirty years. Go directly to jail for thirty years. Do not pass 'Go'. Do not collect $200."

Either way I wouldn't have wasted everybody's time.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hammering the Morse code into my head is a gold plated chore.

I have a pretty good program I got for free on line and I am going to donate a couple of bucks to the guy that made it because he did a good job and only asks donations.

Still, this is going to be a long effort and I can see that I will be working on it for the rest of my life if I keep up my pursuit of excellence in this area.

Right now I am trying to work all fifty states by any means necessary whis is basically Single sideband (SSB) and I've got about thirty five knocked out right now and I have to give compliments to the Young ladies SSB Society for their generosity in giving me Utah and Alabama. I actually have worked Alabama but I do not think the old goat I QSO'd with is likely to send me a QSL card from the way he sounded, but a very nice lady from Alabama is certain to.

She asked me to send her a bunch of snow COD and being a mischevious elf I am tempted to send her a styrofoam contained marked 'Snow' with a QSL card in it.

Anyway, learning morse is hard on the head as you get older. I think I am doing OK and even though I have made a pair of QSOs with Morse it doesn't mean I am anywhere near competent. Both of the hams I have QSO'd were repeating themselves several times very slowly so I could stop and recognize the letters.

I send a lot better than I receive.

Learning to read Morse (CW) is just one of those things that takes repitition and there is no other way. I am at sea as I write this and I have to say that I suppose it is a good place to school one's self in such a topic because this particular trip is a long and otherwise boring odyessy.

All I can say is that I am damned glad I bought a cheap pair of headphones to plug into the combat laptop because if I didn't I would have already been thrown over the side. I rate listening to someone learn to receive CW as about a half-step below listening to someone learn to play the fiddle.

I tried to practice sending a couple of trips back and God knows, I was lucky I didn't cause a mutiny. I put the key away after a couple of tries.

I am theorizing but I think any good Old School CW punching ham will tell me that by learning to read code that sending it will come easily. Time will tell.

Sitting through too much of it tends to turn it all into a mush in the brain, but the Army used to train guys to read code by just soaking themselves into it for about 14 hours a day for about 8 or ten weeks. I guess there is a pattern in it so that after you turn your brain into mush with a massive overdose that all of a sudden it all seems to clear up.

My dad told me that he had to learn code as a bombardier for some reason and he said he got pretty good at it so maybe I will, too. He said there were little plateaus in the learning curve. It doesn't surprise me.

My Uncle Fred was an Old School ham to the point that during WW2 they refused to let him get drafted as there was a shortage of people to train high-speed radio operators at the time. It's really a funny story because the old war widow that ran the draft board refused to understand what special skills were and kept trying to draft him.

Finally I guess a brigadier general and a colonel stormed into the draft board and told the old witch that Uncle Fred was 4-F because they said he was and if she ever tried to draft him out of the OSS that she would spend the rest of the war doing something unpleasant.

Uncle Fred told it that they took her aside and let on he was involved in some hush-hush thing or another and told her that she'd be shot if she said anything. He wound up working for Bill Donovan's OSS for the duration, training radio operators.

Fred had an early mobile rig and a key he could strap to his thigh and could drive along carrying on a conversation with me in the front seat, and another ham on the rig, sending CW at about 40 or more words a minute or more. He was that good.

Talk about texting today, a cop stopping him would probably have a cow but Fred didn't have to take his eyes off the road to do any of this. I would imagine that as he was listening to CW he wasn't hearing letters but complete words. He was far safer than any texting soccer mom out there because he wasn't distracted. The code was beyond second nature, it was etched into the essence of his being.

The Old School Master sergeants and Navy Chiefs were pretty much the same way after about 25 or 30 years of doing little but code.

Anyway, my first goal is to reach 13 words per minute because that's the old General amateur operator's standard that they changed a few years back.

To those reading that are not hams you may wonder why I am so adamant about code because you probably think it is outdated. It isn't and there is a resurgence of people taking it up because it is pure unadulterated radio wave. CW will punch through when notheing else can because when you modulate radio waves you lose something. CW is nothing more than pure radio wave so it loses nothing and can sort of squeak a signal in when nothing else will do the job.

Besides, I try and learn Old School basics because that's the name of the game.

There's an old saying I like to use. "Don't learn the tricks of the trade, learn the trade."

That means basics.

When you think about it it makes sense because you have to learn how to read before a computer makes any sense. There's no escaping learning the basics if you want to learn the whole trade and I would imagine that's true in any field of endeavor.

So now I have written a bit it is time for me to put the headphones back on and make my brain get mushy again.

Adios.
===================================

Ok, my brain just got mushed again so I guess it is time to write in normal letters and clear my soggy brain that can't understand a damned thing. You have to take a break.

Then again maybe I ought to do this every waking hour and immerse myself in it to the point where I go totally mush and see nothing but a big mental blur.

One of the things I see in the crew is one of the guys who is a Filipino. He speaks three languages, the dialict he grew up, of which there are 86 in the Phillipines. Then he speaks Tagalog, which is the Phillipine national language and on top of that he speaks pretty damned good English. Wondering which language to curse in when he hits his thumb with a hammer must be a lingual vertigo.

I just asked him and he told me it is Tagalog.

I figure if this guy can deal with linguistic vertigo I can learn Morse. I'm back at it.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Well, another day has passed out of internet range and I am still here doing my daily post which will go on line because of the miracle of being able to cut and paste.

Not having the web nearby is something both annoying and refreshing. I can't post which is annoying, but it is good in that I will appreciate it a whole lot more when I get back into range.

Every now and then you have to go without something to appreciate what you have. It's well past time for me to grab a sleeping bag and sleep under a bridge or something and freeze my ass of for a night and wake up all gummy-eyed and beat up so I can appreciate the nice place I live in. Maybe not sack out under a bridge, but at least do something along those lines.

We get spoiled pretty fast and start taking things for granted and it is not until you lose something even for just a couple of days that makes you appreciate what you have.

I often think our elected officials ought to me required to live under a bridge every so often to slap them off of their high horse. I could picture President Obama trying to camp out under a bridge somewhere and the results would probably be hilarious. He'd lose his dignity pretty quickly. I'd pay good money to see the conniption fit the first lady would throw.

On the other hand, I figure Ronald Reagan would simply dig in under the bridge and not lose anything but a comfortable bed. He used to love going home to his ranch in California and be active running around in an old Jeep doing normal things like cutting wood. I have seen pictures of him in an old pair of jeans and he still looked like a president.

I read that JFK sneaked down to Quantico a couple of times to practice with his M-1 that had been given to him by the then DCM.

There are guys that can go anywhere and still stay dignified. Betcha it's just be another bump in the road for Prince William and Prince Harry. They seem to have the touch. I've seen pictures of Harry in Afghanistan and he looked like he fit right in. I'll admit I am a fan of the two brothers and as an old artilleryman I like the fact that Harry was calling in artillery fire in support of US troops.

Anyway, when I get back into internet range I will appreciate things a little more.

Stand by.
===============================

There is one of those dumb puzzles on the galley table consisting of the triangle with the holes and golf pegs. The object of which is to jump the other pegs until there is only one left. These little games show up from time to time on boats as well as at hokey diners out in the country. The kind with a busty waitress named Madge.

I've seen them around for fifty years and have not tried playing one since I was a little kid but tonight I tried it and after a couple of tries I beat the damned thing. Needles to say I can't say anything about it to anybody because they will demand that I show them how I did it and of course, I didn't take notes.

I'm pretty good at crosswords and not all that bad at sodoku, either. I generally buy a newspaper just for the puzzle page, especially when I travel on an airplane as it helps pass the time and I feel it's good for keeping the brain hard drive spinning freely.

When I go to work I generally look pretty well put together, and generally I do the same when I travel home but sometimes crew change getting off turns into a hash and I find myself in stained khakis when I get on that big bird headed home.

One time I was assigned to a seat next to some woman that was obviously some kind of a professional and she paid me no attention, most likely because she thought I was some kind of ignorammus because I was traveling in somewhat oil stained work clothes.

Figuring we had nothing in common I simply put my crossword on my knee and worked it before we were even in the air. When we went gear up, I folded down the table and worked the sodoku, both of them, actually as the paper I had was 'USA Today'. It has a pair of sodoku puzzles and a crossword in it.

I whipped through both sodokus and then opened the magazine the airplane had and dug out the puzzle section and went to work. The woman interrupted my chain of thought.

She looked thoughtfully before she spoke. She commented on how I seemed pretty good with puzzles and asked me where I went to school. I replied I was still attending graduate classes at Hawsepipe University.

She explained she wasn't familiar with that school so I explained to her that I had gone to sea and was still learning on the job and that I was a hawsepiper Merchant Mariner, having come to sea as an Ordinary Seaman and working my way up through the ranks. Up through the hawsepipe, so to speak.

She seemed surprised and told me she thought I might have been some kind of an engineer on a job somewhere. I figure it was the khakis I had on. What probably threw her off was the way I whipped through the puzzles. When I first sat down I think she had thought I was a bum.

She asked me if I had been in the Navy (a lot of people ask sailormen this) and I told her I was a former soldier. She explained that her youngest had done quite well in high school but did not want to go to college yet. He was leaving for Marine Corps boot camp in a few weeks.

Of course, she was a concerned mother and asked me what kind of people her son would be with. I simply asked her what kind of kids he hung out with now and she said they were pretty good kids.

I told her that he'd meet the same type of people in the Marine Corps. She seemed relieved.

I also told her that he'd also learn to live with all kinds as the services mash everyone into the same pot. He'd be rubbing elbows with all walks of life. Had he chosen college he would have probably had to live with mainly college kids.In that respect he'd get a better education.

Then she asked me when I was going to finish school. I told her it would be the day they buried me at sea. She looked a bit confused.

I explained that a hawsepiper never finishes school if he has any brains because he is always learning. Unlike most schools Hawsepipe University never closes its doors. It runs 24/7/365. She took a second but seemed to understand.

Then she asked what the other guys I worked with were like.

I told her to look at the skinny kid a couple of rows up and told her he's quite an AB, he can catch a line on a dock from 35 feet and hit a cleat every time. In addition to that he speaks three languages and is a gourmet chef.

I told her to look at the guy next to him and told her he is one cool engineer under fire. When we got hit by lightning all of the electronics in the machinery blew out and he had the systems bypassed and we were underway and running for home in minutes with no fuss whasoever. (While he was doing this I sat in the galley reading a comic book.)

I then pointed out another guy. That guy is a mate and can wrestle 400 feet of floating steel full of gasoline into a dock when it is blowing 40 and bring it alongside without cracking an egg between the boat and the dock.

I then pointed to another AB and explained to her that he was a damned good world class photographer and a first class gardener in addition to being able to maintain the entire boat and that he is presently building his own home.

She asked me where the rest of the guys had gone to school and I thought a moment. I told her we were all hawsepipers and she seemed somewhat surprised. Then she wanted to know how I could whip through puzzles so quickly and I told her that I had been doing them for years as a way to keep my brain functioning during periods of boredom.

She thanked me and returned to her paperwork.

A few minutes later she asked me how I came to choose working on the sea as my career. I told her simply that I had just found something I liked to do and I'm doing it.

"Oh, and one other thing," I said. "Your son will turn out just fine."

She seemed relieved.

Right now two of the guys are playing with the puzzle. I have to stay quiet because for the life of me I can't figure out how I beat it a few minutes ago.

============================

Well, here's another watch and it looks like it ought to be a pretty good one in that we're in pretty good weather and not getting the living tar beat out of us.

The last time I made a run like this it was 9 straight days of misery because the weather was barely good enough to keep us from holing up somewhere. Nine straight days of bouncing around like a cork. It wasn't fun.

One of the guys when he wasn't doing his job would spend the entire watch curled up in the fetal position on a corner of the galley deck curled up like a junkie in a blanket. The poor bastard. I felt for him, unable to eat a whole lot.

Still, he did his job and that's what counts.

From time to time out there things happen and nobody really says a whole lot about it. It is pretty much a case of what happens here stays here. This certainly ain't Vegas and there really isn't a whole lot of Vegas type stuff that goes on out here.

At sea I've seen situations where men are truly men and things happen out here.

While nothing out of the ordinary happened on that long, rough trip, it was interesting watching how everyone dealt with it. Everyone stayed pretty cheerful and carried on.

The guy that does most of the cooking improvised and managed to get a halfway decent meal made almost every day in spite of having to clamp his pots and pans to the galley stove.

This is a somewhat odd world and Martha Stewart would probably come unglued out here with some of the things we occasionally do. Shoreside you never see a pot attached to a stove rail with a C-clamp. Then again, shoreside stoves do not have rails, either.

Cooking under these circumstances requires long pants and a long sleeved shirt as a splash can be painful. Chowing down is another interesting thing to behold, too. Even though most boats have mats that keep plates from slipping around on the table, most guys keep one hand on their plate and use the other hand for their entrenching tool, be it pitchfork or shovel.

A couple of times I ate standing up wedged into a corner.

So far this trip is quite a bit different. The weather seems to be carrying on with a kind, gentle nature and I hope it stays that way.
================================

In a lot of areas I am a minimalist.

Back when I was a young man on the road seeking my fame and fortune I would basically carry a razor, bar of soap, a shower head and that was about it for cleaning supplies. As for a towel, I'd improvise or air dry.

These days I suppose I've changed. I also carry a can of deodorant and a towel.

The shower head was one of those things they used to make that would fit over the end of a bathtub spigot to allow the bather to rinse their hair. It could turn just about any water supply into an instant shower. A gas station men's room with a floor drain became an instant luxurious hot shower. A hose bib became an instant cold shower, and those square key required to turn on the water were child's play as I carried a hose bib key on my key ring.

I used to do a fairly passable job of keeping my hooves in good shape with a knife, razor blade or sometimes diagonal cutting pliers. I remember back in the army when my CO walked in on me cutting my toenails with a razor blade. He rolled his eyes, grinned and walked out. Then he stuck his head in again and told me that I ought to borrow a pair of wire cutters from one of the commo guys.

When you think about it, when was the last time you had your toenails inspected by anyone? Wire cutters used to work just fine.

I often think that people are easily fooled into thinking they need a whole lot more than they do need. We get roped into coughing up for all kinds of crap because we are told that we need it. I think I have a can of shaving cream somewhere that is just sitting in the medicine cabinet waiting for the bottom to rust out. I use soap in the shower and get a better shave.

At home I use Dr Bronner's Castille soap, the peppermint kind and come out of the shower smelling like a peppermint drop. It's great for shaving. On the road it is whatever soap the motel supplies.

When you look at the things you use on any kind of a trip it generally comes down to the basics. I suppose a businessman on a trip might want to toss on a little after-shave in addition to the deodorant but having to carry an entire case of stuff with you when you travel seems pointless to me. Most of us never use a lot of the crap we haul around. Although these days when I travel I suppose I carry a few more odds and ends than I did years ago.

I have nail clippers now, for example. The days of being my own blacksmith are over with.

Still, it all packs into a shaving bag with room left over for other things like a cell phone charger and other odds and ends.

I keep saying it doesn't take a whole lot, and I suppose it doesn't. I'm a whole lot happier traveling light.
=========================

My code is coming along and I have gotten to the point where I am bored with three, four and five word groups. They take 4 or 5 letters and put them in random order and beep them and you hit the appropriate key on the keyboard. It doesn't take long before you can do a small group in your sleep at 15 words per minute.

Of course, that doesn't mean squat when you think about it because that is nowhere close to real world CW. This little program had a thing in it where you can slew in letters and make your own groups which is good for letters you have problems with, in my case about 25 out of 26.

What I have done is slew in all 26 letters of the alphabet and boy, did my scores drop down to the bottom. I knew that would happen. Right now I am going to simply go the alphabet route until I get my scores up and then we will see what happens.

This ain't easy. It does not come natural to me so this is a case where I have to persevere.

I would imagine that if I keep at it I ought to get good enough to send the Gettysburg address to someone with few mistakes.

Even fifteen words a minute really isn't all that fast when you consider how fast a person can type and when you think about how fast a person can read it is pretty slow.

I can see why back in the old days it was expensive to have a telegrapher send a message.

++++++++++++++++++++++++
Now on the news they are beating the case of the 4 Marines urinating on a Taliban corpses to death.

It makes you wish someone else woud do something awful to make this entire stupid thing go away. They have some former Marine talking head saying something on Fox News now, but I can't hear it very well.

They ought to interview me instead. They won't, though because I would simply ask the news people why they don't have anything better to do than make life a little more miserable for the Marine Corps over absolutely nothing.

What was that line in a few good men?

It was something about sitting in comfort while the Corps provides your security and then having the nerve to question the way the Corps provides it.

As far as I am concerned, if our Marines decide to eat dead Taliban that is just fine by me. It might send a message out to the Taliban that you might just wind up getting a trip through a Marine's digestive system on your way to meet the 72 virgins if you don't behave yourself. I don't think any of the 72 virgins are apt to be much interested in a guy that has just gone through such a trip. He probably won't smell very good.

Besides, it might just shave a couple of bucks off of their grub bill. While I don't object to making sure the Marines are well fed, a couple of bucks of grub money saved ain't nothing to sneeze at.

The Marines are always telling everyone how frugal the Corps is and how they save the taxpayers money. Here's one more way.
==============================

The code is coming along and I can read a little more than half of it, about two thirds, acutally at about 10 words per minute. I figure that once I get into the mid to high 90s I'll take it up to 11 wpm and so on until I can comfortably read 15 words a minute.

You have to remember that one letter in a callsign that I goof up on could mean no QSL, either electronically or on paper unless the other guy initiates it.

Some of the other guys have told me that I ought to have gone straight to 15+ word a minute and said that I would top out at 15 wpm if I did it the way I am doing it, but I see things differently.

What is going to get my speed up is confidence and use.

While I do not see myself getting to the speed my Uncle Fred had, which was incredible, one has to realize that he started into ham radio that way probably in the 1930s and by WW2 he was so fast he got snagged by the OSS to train people.

I have gotten into this late in life and I'll do what I can.

Who knows? Maybe after I work all states with SSB I might try it with code. That would be quite an accomplishment as I see it.

One of the drawbacks I see in this program is that you have to use the keyboard of the laptop to run the program. I wish it would print the letters out after the session was over so I could use paper. I want to be able to take this out into the field with me and not be chained to a laptop to read code.

I guess that writing the code down on paper will come pretty naturally, though as in effect I am doing the same thing with a keyboard. I have to recognize the letter before I hit the key and I suppose that instead of striking a key I can scribble it down.

Another thing I can see myself doing is putting on the cans to work CW. I think I tend to focus better with the headphones on.

There are a few frequencies where I can use both code and phone. Maybe I can find someone to correct me via voice if I screw up. We'll see.

No use getting ahead of myself, though.

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

I just remembered something.

Just about two days before I left for work I sent about fifty QSL cards out in one fell swoop.

Probably the day after tomorrow they are going to start coming in. One of the people i spoke with during my time off was a pleasant woman in Alabama running a mobile rig from the roof of someplace in a town that I have forgotten the name of but I can look it up later.

She told me that she wanted me to send her a bunch of snow COD to her in Alabama.

There is a thick walled styrofoam box in the forepeak and I wonder what it would cost to send it to Alabama full of snow. Of course, I would not ship it COD because I knew she was kidding, but it would be a funny thing to do and not too difficult, either. Simply put some dry ice in with the snow, seal it up and send it by some kind of fast freight.

I'l see if it would be too expensive. If it isn't, I just might do that.

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

Right now I am busy writing another post, the purpose of is to escape the code for a little while. Listening to a countless stream of little beeps is hard on the brain and like I have said before they start to string together after a while. I have figured out that there are a several characters that I need to work on so I scribble them down, load them up and pound them into me a little more.

Some of which are semi-opposites like F and L. For some reason they sound a little bit too much alike and I get them a bit mixed up.

Also there is going to be another problem of sorts to deal with when I get into the real world.

Most guys out there do not send CW with a straight key anymore. My IC-718 has an electronic keyer built in to it and I had to get the book out and spend a couple of hours figuring out how to disable is so I can go with an old fashioned straight key.

The electronic keyer is designed to be used with another kind of key and what happens is that the dits and dahs are all perfect. Once the radio operator gets used to the key and the keyer he sends out pretty recognizable Morse that can be easily read.

All of this is fine and dandy but there are still quite a number of Old School guys out there that still send with a straight key. I have added to the number of Old School types when my Chinese Army key came and I plugged it in.

With a straight key the codes dits and dahs are controlled by the operator himself and not by an electronic device. This means imperfections and I am going to have to learn how to deal with that.

Some guys are pretty good in that they make their dahs run a little longer and hence are recognizable. Some guys do not and it makes it a little hard for a newbie to understand.

A dah is supposed to be three times longer than a dit.

Another thing is that an experienced operator will sometimes be asked to slow down so a newbie can keep up with reading his code. The older ham will simply slow down by putting more space betwen his letters and words, but he will send the individual letters quickly.

Uggh! This is one of those things that sometimes proves frustrating because the operator may not realize what he is doing and the newbie is hard pressed to explain that he wants the individual letters slowed down.

All in all it will be interesting when I get back home and go in the air with code.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Yet more talk about the four Marines that urinated on the Taliban corpses.

It is like watching the Jerry Seinfeld Show that used to be on the air. This is an entire issue over nothing.

This made me wonder for a minute if the media got the idea of doing something like this from Jerry Seinfeld or Jerry Seinfeld got the idea from the media. For a second I was wondering about this like it was the chicken or the egg.

Then I thought back to the time before Seinfeld.

The media has been doing this for years. Decades, really.

I was once taught that if there wasn't a good story out there that a good reporter made one.

Made one up is a more likely scenario.

I was thinking about writing the Commandant and offering to do something big to take the heat off the Corps. Something like renting an airplane and dropping a huge urine bomb on a Philadelphia Eagles game or something. However the Commandant is too much of a decent man to take me up on the offer so I'll save myself the ink and the price of airplane rental and a fortune in beer.

I would imagine he would appreciate the offer but he's in a position where he can't really say so, even tongue in cheek.

============================
I can see why it took the army 8 to 10 weeks to make a good radio operator back in the day.

Incidentally before I served, a neighbor's dad was a radio operator and went through the school. Eight or ten weeks learning the code and if he is even remotely like his son he was pretty good at it.

My neighbor said that as soon as his dad deployed to Germany the entire army switched to single sideband and he never even looked at a key for his entire hitch.

The CW hams I knew as a kid are the ones that kept the art alive after the early to mid 60s.

Even now with the code requirement gone there are few people that still take the time to learn it unless they are serious DXers, which I think I will become after I get profecient.

I have listened to hams yakking away on the airwaves in different languages and can not understand a single word they say because I do not speak the language, but code is different because of all of the Q signals.

There is a Q signal for just about anything and they work. Signal reports can be requested easily that way. There is even a Q signal for asking someone to marry them. It's QWM, followed by a question mark. To reply that you will the answer is QWM followed by a period.

One of the things that happened to Uncle Fred many moons ago happened a few years after WW2 ended. Some Japanese businessman that was also a ham got into a pretty bad traffic accident and the local police couls not understand him.

I guess they found something on him that was ham radio related and one of the local officers took whatever it was to Fred and Fred told him it was some kind of a ham radio thing and asked what was going on. The cop explained that they could not communicate with the hapless guy so Fred went to the hospital and the two of them communicated in code enough to find out that he was Japanese and not Chinese or Korean.(the police didn't know what he was) I guess that got the ball rolling on getting him squared away.

Fred told me they whistled to each other in code to establish communication.

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

One of the neat things about being the oldest son is that I got to meet a lot of older relatives while they were still around to be met. Some of them were pretty colorful characters.

My baby sister is 48 now, which is 12 years younger than me. She didn't get to meet a lot of the people I got to meet or if she did, they died when she was too young to remember them.

Uncle Fred was one of them. He was about 70 or so when he showed me how to ride a bicycle backwards. He said he was too old to use a boy's bike as it had the crosssbar on it.

My oldest (not older, she was simly the first of my 3 sisters) had gotten her first bicycle and hadn't learned to ride it yet. I broke it out and I'll be damned if Uncle Fred didn't sit on the handlebars and put his feet on the pedals and ride the thing around the front yard.

He didn't even come close to falling on his ass when he got off, either.

His wife, Gladys was shaking with Parkinson's at the time and smiled and asked Fred when he was going to grow up.

Not long after that Gladys was gone.

Another thing I have is that I remember a lot of town characters as a child. Bo and Charlie Phillips were a pair of brothers and they were both cut from different bolts of cloth.

Bo ran a general store of sorts and I used to buy popsicles from him for a nickel. He was one of those squinty eyed sober New England merchants but I recall he was pretty good to kids. He and his wife who to this day I only knew as Mrs Phillips lived upstairs in the building that housed the store as was common at the time.

After he died a few years before his brother Charlie, the neighborhood kids looked out for her to an extent. One Halloween someone soaped her windows and a group of us hunted the perps down and beat the hell out of them. I think I was about 12 at the time and we were not kind to the vandals.

Charlie was much different than Bo, he was a colorful New England lobsterman with a taste for cheap rye whisky and Rupert's Knickerbocker beer. He kept his boat at Damon's Point and drank quite a bit if I recall. Just about everything he owned, his house and boat, always seemed to need a coat of paint or three. The house really was sort of an eyesore if my memory serves.

I do remember that people said that Bo was always after his big brother to clean up his act and of course, he outlived his sober clean living brother. I don't recall if Charlie was married or not.

The store is now a residence and it would be fun to knock on the door and tell them about being six or seven years old and buying Popsicles in their living room. I remember the smells, too. There was an aroma of axe handles and twine in the place and I wonder how long it took to make the place smell like a house after it was sold when Mrs. Phillips died.

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

Right now I am doing worse than I was several hours ago.

This is not surprising as learning curves are not really straight lines. They are full of little dips and plateaus. What matters is persistance. You have to keep after it.

You also have to know when to back off and regroup. I've had enough for one watch so I think I'll bag the code for the rest of the watch.

Nobody here is going to steal it so it will be there when I wake up in the morning.

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

One of the things I would like to do is go for a long walk through the woods of my childhood and see how much it has changed since I moved out in the very early 70s.

I would want to do it right but I fear I can't. The proper uniform for this is a pair of WW2 combat boots, the 2 buckes on the flap kind and a surplus trench knife stuck into the boot but in this day and age someone would go into a dither. This is a joke because I was often seen packing a 12 gauge shotgun going down the street back in the day.

I'd like to look at the old well house foundation I used as a safe place to blow things up and wander down through the soggy ground through the skunk cabbage to Bare's Brook. From there I'd climb the old tear drop shaped hill left over from a retreating glacier and walk along the ridge and down to where Bare's Brook farm was. I don't think the woods between Bare's Brook Farm and the sand pit has changed.

Many a battle was fought there between warring factions of neighborhood kids and after I comb the battleground for relics of childhood wars I would mosey on through the woods to the waterfall which I believe is still there. It is the source for Bare's Brook.

I believe it is Steve Tyler of Aerosmith lives in the area and I wonder whose house he lives in. I very likely may have played in it. I do not know for sure. While it may not be Tyler, one of the Aerosmith guys lives there unless he has moved recently. I think it is Tyler but I am not 100% sure.

After I emerged from the side of the pond I would walk up the street and hook a right and wander into the post office and look at the wanted posters. 'Wanted by the FBI'. If you have a minute, Google 'One-eyed Bobby Wilkcoxson'. I remember his poster. Maybe it's Wilcockson or even Wilcox but I do remember the face and the poster for certain.

Then I think I'd wander down to the pond at the bottom of the street and if if was summer I'd sneak into the bushes and put on a pair of cut-offs and swim out to the island and back and dry off and switch back into jeans and wander up the hill behind the pond and follow the ridge back to where I come down to where I grew up and sneak through the backyard and get back into my truck and leave.

After that I'd go up to the cemetary and visit my parents.

I used to bring a nip of pretty good hooch, generally scotch, with me and split it with my dad, pouring half on his grave to give him a little taste for the afterlife. Now that my mother is there I am going to have to think twice about it to keep the old man out of hot water with Ma.

I'll think of something.

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

One of the things I did today was reset my damned watch. It's a Timex Expedition and somehow, somewhere along the line the alarm got set to 1305 and for well over a year now I have had to push the off button every weekday at 1305.

It was one of those minor annyoances that it really wasn't worth stopping what I was doing to reset the damned thing because it would be a hassle.

Anyway, today I had nothing to do so I sat down and figured it out.

While I was at it I somehow managed to reverse the time zones so I had to figure that one out. Now I have it right. One good thing is the second time zone is UTC and that never changes but every 6 months I have to move the hour setting for local time up or down an hour for the EST/EDT conversion after which I replace the batteries in my smoke detector.

It was a hassle and to tell you the truth, if I wasn't so damned bored I would have simpy left it alone. There are often some things that are not really worth dealing with and that was one of them. Unless, of course, you are totally bored to tears and are desperate for something constructive to do.

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

Someone just asked me if I was writin' a *&$%in' book.

I told him I was writing a mystery and when he asked my why, I intentionally misunderstood him.

"It's going to be a mystery because I am going to leave your chapter out," I replied.

He seemed satisfied.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

Larry the Cable Guy sometimes amuses me.

While I really don't care much for his bathroom comments, (childish) I do get a hoot out of his History Channel show about how we do a few things in this country.

I wonder how people overseas look at some of the off the wall things we do in this country like have trailer races and frog jumping contests.

Back in '77 I took third place for accuracy at the Cripple Creek , Colorado tobacco spitting contest during their annual 'Donkey Derby Days' festival. A lot of people afterwards said I should have been declared the winner because the majority of my wad went clean into the spitoon.

The guy that won for distance got his picture on page one of one of the Colorado Springs newspapers. It was a pretty good new picture. The photographer's timeing was perfect. He caught the guy with about a foot long string cjust exiting his mouth. It was pretty nasty when you think about it but so was the entire contest when you think about it.

I could see Larry there right in the middle of things interviewing people.

He'd be a natural for that one.

I wonder if he can spit tobacco with any sort of style?

Maybe.
#######################

Well I entered my morning CW lesson late as I opted for an old Clint Eastwood movie to wake up on. I didn't sleep for sour apples last night.

I broke 50% at 10 wpm which isn't QUITE as bad as I expected. I'll run through the alphabet a couple more times and put it up until the evening watch and then see if I can get it up another point or two. My plan is when I hit 75% I am going to pick up the speed a word a minute and when I get 80% at 11 wpm I'll bring it up another and so on until I can read 15 words a minute.

Maybe I will try working all states in CW. Who knows.
=======================

I didn't watch the news this morning because I get angry and I figured I could use a break. I could use a day away from stupidity. Most of the news is nothing but one big daily stupidity report.

Well, I just spoke and sure enough one of the guys just clicked on the boob tube and went straight to the news. Apparently there is some ship that went aground in Italy and as usual I'll bet that the crew panicked and ran for the boats and left the passengers. Third world crews are world famous for that.

If you decide to go on a cruise, check up on not only the flag of registry but the nationality of the deck and engine crews. If the flag os Panamanian of Liberian, stay clear and if the crew-either engine, and especially deck crews are third world, stay away.

I am trying to remember the captain that ordered 'abandon ship' as the lifeboat he was in was being lowered. The man belongs in a tuna can. Chicken of the Sea.

Now there is footage of Iranian gunboats zipping along. I think the Iranian navy is about to realize that when they contract out for new boats that they should have glass bottoms so they can look at the old Iranian Navy.

The US Navy is not an organization anyone wants to have mad at them.

Oops...There's the presidential race. I guess I'll just skip that part. I am not in the mood for politics. It is just a bunch of talking heads that are opining about what they think will happen.

Who can beat President Obama?

Right now, if from what I have heard several liberal Democrats have said, just about anybody can. Then again look to the RNC to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. They are doing what the Democrats did 8 years ago.

They shouted 'Anybody but Bush!" Then they ran an anybody and he lost. Watch the RNC do just that this year.

What it is time to do is make it clear to our representatives that if they do not shape up they will either be in the unemployment line or be handed a blindfold and a cigarette.

Dammit! I just watched the news and I'm miffed again as usual.
############################

I just hit a 59% which does not mean a lot. I still have a lot of letters that make me draw blank and I guess I am going to have to go back to the book and hammer it into my head a bit more.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Up a bit early for this watch as I could not sleep for very long. One each catnap and that's about it. Back to the grindstone.

I just looked at this tug and noticed that because of the tonnage I could easily run it on my license. There are a number of reason I licensed even though I do not currently need if for this job. I am one of a very few in this business with a sailing endorsement on my license and that is part of the reason. I can give sailing lessons on it.

Another reason I got it was to be able to shut a few people up. There are a very small percentage of wheelhouse people out there that think that their licenses give them a monopoly on the brains of the world simply because they have one. Mine is an inspected license and although most of the better mariners out here also have an insected license it sometimes seems that the most of jerks run on the old operator's license.

Over the years I have humiliated a couple of skippers in front of their crews by simply stating, "MY license says U.S. Merchant Marine officer on it. Why don't YOU start addressing ME as Captain, Mister uninspected Operator!"

The very, very few times I have done this the crew working for the man has hailed me as a hero. That tell you anything?

One pompous ass had to put up with his crew referring to me as 'captain' to remind him of it for quite some time. Needless to say they didn't like him a whole lot.

You really have to work on getting me riled, but when I do it's like Krakatoa going off.

I also got the license simply for the sake of having something to show for my time out here. When my mom was alive she was constantly yapping at me to go back to school. When I sent her a copy of my license I pointed out that it took me a lot more time to earn it than id would a degree and that a degree wasn't marketable but a license was.

There are other reasons I got licensed but we'll get into that later.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

This little CW program has another setting, one for tones.

CW seems to arrive in different tones, from a low tone to a pretty high tone that listening to it for long will probably give me a headache but I'm swapping the tones around every so often to get used to the real world.

I shot a mid 60s a on code while ago but this last time I dropped to a 56. Ups and downs.

??????????????????????????

There is some movie going on in the background. Bruce Willis is beating up a bunch of people while clad in Army Mess Dress, which is a very formal dress uniform. He looks stupid fighting in such an outfit.

I don't recognize the movie, but that's nothing new.

Incidentally I want to see the movie 'Red Tails' when I get off and see how historically accurate it is or if it is another one of those 'Lookie what we did' movies.

For years I have screamed that the truth is enough and you don't have to make bigger heroes out of guys than they really were. The Tuskegee Airmen did fight predjudice and overcame and set one very special combat record. They never lost an enemy bomber due to enemy fighter action. I think that says enough. As a matter of fact, I am probably here today because of them. My father as a bombardier and had his bacon saved by them somewhere aong the line.

While the Tuskegee Airmen were a fine organization they were not the entire Army Air Corps, but a small part of it.

In the mini-series, 'Band of Brothers', one can get the idea that these were special guys and in one sense they were, but the series only covers one company. There were nine such companies in a regiment and there were four regiments in the 101st Airborne Division. That's 36 companies in a single division and there were an awful lot of divisions fielded into the European theater.

Many people who saw the series know who 'Shifty' Powers was but they often seem to forget that there were an awful lot of small town guys just like him.

I'd like to say that by pointing this out it doesn't belittle the deeds of these men in any way whatsoever, it just brings a lot of other unnamed people up to the proper level of admiration and respect. Betcha Shifty and the rest of them would be the first to agree with me on this one.

Recently Major Dick Winters died and he had a humongous funeral with people from all over in attendance. I honestly wonder how many like him were simply buried quietly by their families, or even just wound up in a potter's field somewhere.

Somewhere along the line I read where some Pacific Marine with a Navy Cross and several other decorations was saved from obsurity because of a police record. He died alone somewhere in a room of some sort and the local police ran a check on him to try and find a next of kin they found nobody but discovered a long forgotten note about a drunken fight (or something along these lines) back in 1946 or around then. It mentioned that the police let that one slide because he held a Navy Cross.

The local American Legion threw a hasty burial party together for the guy and made sure he was laid to rest properly.

####################################

One of the things this code business is going to do is probably help me improve my typing. There are quite a few errors in this blog and it is not that I can't spell. Truth is I am a lousy typist. This code business is going to be pretty helpful any way I slice it even if I do not get good at it.

I'm 60 now and I heard that memory loss and stuff like that starts around 45. I figure that keeping the old mental hard drive cranking regularly will pay off in the long run.

The more you know the more you can lose and with Alzheimer's running in my mother's side of the family I think I am going to need all the help I can get.

I am going in for my annual physical when I get off and this doctor is pretty good. He has at least half a brain. It got back to him that I told the cardiologist that my 83 year old mother died in a knife fight at a strip club on wet t-shirt night. When I explained to him why I did that he agreed that it didn't make a whole lot sense for them to even ask about what killed someone in their 80s.

Actually the cardiologist didn't throw a fit, he laughed. It was the Big Nurse that threw a fit.

He did chew me out when I told him he ought to buy that nurse of his a set of antlers, but I think that was just to appease her because when she wasn't looking he looked at her for a minute and turned to me and snickered as she was walking off.

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

Speaking of doctors in the earlier post, mine once asked me about life at sea and I explained to him that as far as I know the physiological changes are different in each individual.

Of course, my sleep patterns change, they do for everyone out here except a lucky few that are true night owls. I know a mate that sleeps until the afternoon when she is home. (Yeah, it's a woman. She's damned good at what she does.) She generally lives most of her life in darkness. I was like that several years ago. A lot of people used to call me 'Doctor of Darkness'.

But for most people they go through a change in sleep patterns when they return to work.

I think the biggest change I go through is in my digestive system because my diet on the beach is markedly different than it is out here. At sea things to a certain extent reduce to the least common denominator and it is hard to eat right out here when the cook tends to make too much comfort food.

The night before I crew change and come back aboard I have a huge salad and iced tea for roughage to help the first day or two back.

The first couple of days I tend to bind up a bit unless the water is bad then all bets are off. The salad the night before I come aboard helps make the transition easier.

Adapting to life on the beach and getting back in sychronization with things is pretty easy. I stop off on the way home and snag a couple or three of slices of Sbarro pizza and a 4 pack of Guiness and when I get home I down the entire thing. If it doesn't seem like it is going to knock me out I'll add a snort or two and drop right off.

When I wake up in the morning my innards are back in sync and so are my sleep patterns. It doesn't take a whole lot when I get home to get back on schedule. Just some greasy pizza and Guiness.

It's probably the same for guys in the Navy except they get more options come mealtimes. I'd say it's true for GIs, too as they switch to an MRE diet when they deploy. I'll bet every GI has his own little set of tricks for making the transition to a different lifestyle.

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

I am halfway through another watch and I think I will stick my nose back into the code for a bit and then take another break. Shower and shave tomorrow morning.

Because we are on a long trip basic water is rationed to a certain degree. Long showers are out of the question and we are expected to hop in for a shower every other day and lay on the deodorant. On shorter trips I am not on the tug, but the guys can use as much water as they want as we can fill the water tanks a whole lot more often.

Some of the guys gripe about this but I do not. While I would like to be able to take long warm showers once or twice a day I know what water rationing is. I crossed from Honolulu to Tacoma once back in '89 and the only thing we had for an entire 19 days was a gallon's worth of sun shower each about halfway across.

I did manage to sail us right into a squall and get naked and soap down and rinse off. The whiner was too good for that, though. He looked disgusted in rain gear as I stood in the cockpit bollicky base-assed showering off in the tropic rain. He griped about the squall, which I had intentionally steered us into.

When I confided with the skipper about that later, he confessed that sometimes he did the same thing.

I think I also managed to get several gallons of fresh water out of that squall that I caught in a pail and stored in a water bladder. We made coffee out of it but before I collected the rainwater out of the sails I made damned good and sure they first got a good rinsing to get the salt off of them.

Of course, we smelled pretty ripe but only one of the four of us whined about it. Most of us figured we smelled at least as bad as the guy next to us so we simply shut up about it.

I caught the whiner using water when nobody was looking and twice I came down rock hard on him. Most of the guys out here that have had no sailboat delivery or long haul commercial fishing time behind them do not really understand true water discipline. We still use water and run the dishwasher but when I was sailing blue water we used seawater to clean dishes and boil spuds.

You even brush your teeth with seawater. However, you can not bathe seawater it because it causes salt water boils. Ouch!

Fresh water was only used for making coffee and drinking. That is because sailboats have very small fresh water tanks. If I recall we arrived at Tacoma with about 5 gallons of fresh water. That was what was left over for four guys. It got a bit dicey toward the end, yet the idiot that griped the whole way never seemed to get it.

About halfway along the fresh water tank ran dry and we had to break out 5 gallon collapsable water bladders. When that happened the captain was pretty cool about it. He and I had a quiet chat and we both decided to act like we were out for a full day to make things sink in with the whiner. It did until he broke out the first of the 5 gallon bladders.

While I suppose nobody would say anything if I hit the rain locker about 12 hours early because I would like to, I won't just for the sake of discipline.

Over the years there have been a lot of people that have asked me how I could stand living that way. Truth is you don't. Nobody likes running around smelling bad enough to knock buzzards off of gutwagons. You simply have to decide in advance that you are going to let your sense of adventure over ride your desire to stay clean. It is a sacrifice you make to be in the ranks of Blue Water Sailors.

I wonder how much griping would go on with my present crew if they had gone along on that trip. A lot of guys that have entered this business in the last couple of decades have not experienced primitive conditions at sea. It would be interesting to find out.

Frankly, I enjoyed my trip from Honolulu to Tacoma as a celebration of life and am certainly glad I did it. I'd do it again in a heartbeat but you can bet your seaboots I wouldn't want to take another whiner aboard.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

There are 12 sets of opposites in the Morse code.

The letters H and C are leftovers and have no opposites.

I just sat down a minute ago and figured that one out. While Iknew there were a bunch of opposites, I didn't know that out of 26 letters that 24 of them were opposites.

Intersesting.

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

Speaking of interesting, there's one more thing about The Most Interesting Man in the World.

When he flies, the TSA goes through every item in his bags because they find them...interesting

++++++++++++++++++++++++

Right now the news is covering the shipwreck in Italy and a couple of the surviving passengers are telling everyone how terrible it was to go through such an ordeal.

Really?

Who would have ever thought such a thing!

Frankly I a mildly surprised this does not happen more often.

It isn't so much the grounding that upsets me as it was the conduct of the officers and crew, who seemed to take to the boats before the passengers. While I heard that there were individual acts of heroism on some of the crew the fact that the captain abandoned ship ahead of many of the passengers really did not surprise me very much.

I am hazarding somewhat of a guess that the man was given the job for the wrong reasons.

While the captain of, for example, a tug or fishing boat is hired for his ability to catch fish or move cargo, a cruise ship captain is often hired for his ability to schmooze the general public.

Seamanship is likely often secondary to hiring a cruise ship officer. To be an officer on such a vessel charm school is often times put ahead of radar school as far as the shipping companies go.

In our business we are often forced to change course right in the middle of a trip for various reasons, weather being one. An awful lot of crybabies would throw a hissy fit if they didn't get to go to their little special port and see the sights there. People do not realize that you cannot change the weather and it is far better to be flexible.

Cruise captains know this and are somewhat loathe to change plans on their passengers unless they absolutely have to. They also have to stay on shedule and and keep both their bosses and the passengers happy. A cruise boat captain has to be the master of illusion.

Passengers are pretty quick to demand a refund if their little dream vacation doesn't turn out to be just so and because of this the ability to smoothly schmooze the public is a top priority when it comes to hiring a captain.

Then you also have to look at the rest of the crew, which are generally hired based on their willingness to work for whatever wages the shipping company decided to pay. Generally this does not mean the best and brightest are likely to show up.

Quite frankly if I wanted to go on some kind of a cruise I would take a different tack. I would try and find a berth on some kind of working vessel like a container ship of maybe even a car carrier.

Years ago tramp steamers as they were called used to take a few passengers. It was pretty informal and you simply ate with the crew. The accomodations, while fairly plain were reasonably comfortable and you were pretty much on your own for entertainment. You often didn't even know where you were going in advance because the rest of the crew didn't know, either. They went to where there was a cargo to be had.

On good days you took a book out on a chaise lounge and enjoyed both the book and the weather.

One thing you didn't have to deal with was the incessant flow of pretentious crap about how my son is at Harvard Law School (While the little thug is really sitting in the can pulling 2 years for B&E)

What is more important is that the officers and crew are generally hired on the simply basis of competence and you didn't have to deal with a bunch of smoke and mirrors.

All of this is fine and dandy until something happens and then it becomes catch as catch can and you are pretty likely to find yourself left to your own devices.

When Titanic went down Molly Brown took charge of the lifeboat she was on and ordered a number of people to man the oars. One man tried to beg off, pleading a heart condition but Molly proved to be a capable leader for the situation. She simply pulled out a pistol and gave him the choice of heart conditions. Everyone on her boat fared well.

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

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr Day

which is, in my opinion, a day set aside to appease 11% of the population.

While I won't smear the man and I truly respect him, I do not rate him as being as worthy of a holiday as George Washington.

Of course the talking heads on Fox are babbling about how Brothers Jesse and Al are claiming his memory is being smeared.

I don't think it is being smeared by most of us. I think it being smeared is by Brothers Jesse and Al.

King pushed for self reliance and accepting responsibility for one's life. He fought against an awful lot of what we see today in what is often referred to as Black culture.

Brothers Al and Jesse seem to busy trying to keep a pretty good sized chunk of a race shackled in the golden handcuffs of welfare and dependency. Both of these two idiots are doing the memory of Dr. King quite a disservice.

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

Sixty-two percent. Getting a little better. Earlier I wrote the whole code out by memory to figure out which were opposites. Writing it out and reading it are two different things. I know I can send it well, but I still can't read it very well at all.

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

In the background. More information about the ship cruise. As is to be expected by poorly trained crews there were what passengers call multiple acts of cowardice.

Panicky untrained third world crewmen. That'll do it every time.

Incidentally, if this tug rolls I am most likely dead, but if it is holed and sinks there is an excellent chance that all hands will survive because we have been pretty well trained. We can deploy the raft in seconds and everyone knows how to don a survival suit, along with a boatload of other things.

While there are a few training items we gun deck, for the most part we take our training seriously. We did a lifeboat drill when I came on and I got a pretty good briefing from the mate. The skipper also taught me a few basics on driving this rig.

Of course, I know how to steer but there are a lot of differences between boats so I got a crash course on how to switch the steering over to manual on this particular rig. It's only a switch but knowing that can make all the difference in the world. If something were to happen to either the skipper or the mate I would be able to step right in and at least be able to spell him and give someone at least some sleep.

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

More news is in the background but it is on politics and is nothing more than a bunch of hot air. Most of them simply deserve a cigarette and a blindfold simply because of who they are.

For those which do not like gun violence I suppose a short rope and a long tree would allow them an option.

I suppose it really doesn't mean a lot as to who gets elected. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.

We'll get fooled again. We always do.

##########################

Now Iran is sticking their twisted little head up.

Twist it off right off the bat.

Being a prick to places like that and hammering them right off the bat would save us a lot of long term grief. A couple day rolling air bombardment on Tehran simply for the hell of it would do wonders for keeping them in line. Hell, even one pass with a couple of carrier based aircraft.

"We're going to block the strait!"

Two days later contractors show up to start rebuilding their capitol building, power plant and a few other odds and ends. Meanwhile back in Houston Boots and Coots are loading an airplane with their oil well fire puter-outer stuff and are planning a flight to Tehran airport, counting their incoming money as they load up.

Washington: "Having second thoughts about the strait?"

It sounds cruel but in the long run it isn't. We won't have to wind up having to deal with their crap for quite a long time after that.

Remember how Reagan plastered Tripoli?

We didn't hear from Khaddafi for an awful long time after that, now. Did we? In fact, after that he got somewhat tolorable.

The attack on Tripoli didn't take a whole lot, basically just some target practice for a carrier group when you look at it that way.

Another thing we have to learn to say to people is "That's just too goddamned bad."

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

I just got upset with myself and decided to turn up the heat and set the code program from 10 to 15 wpm and I'll be shipped in dit. I got the same (60%) score I did when I was running 10 wpm.

I think it was because I didn't have time to overthink things and simply started reacting.

Several years ago at Camp Perry during a Springfield match a similar thing happened. I lost some of my time because my glasses broke and it stook several seconds to fix them. I played catch-up with my first five shots and on the reload my stripper clip fell apart and I lost more time stuffing the rounds into the mag by hand. I played catch-up again, getting my last shot off as the targets were going down.

I scored a 96 with 5 in the X-ring. Go figure. Two nines and an eight at 12 O'clock. The last shot was the eight that I cranked off as the targets were going down. My scorer opined it would have either been a ten or an X.

Later on I checked in with the Marine rifle team and a grumbled about it and listened to the Marines laugh because all of them have had similar train wrecks on the firing line.

A senior gunny overheard it and came up to me and asked my score. When I told him what it was he asked me what rifle I was using. When I told him I was using a 1903 Springfield his eyes grew wide and he said he didn't think any of his guys could do any better under the circumstances.

He then proceeeed to comment that I must have trained well with it because it was obvious I had simply fallen back on my instincts and training.

I think the same thing just happened with the code. I didn't stop to think, I simply reacted.
I actually found that the part that I had to think about was the keyboard. I have said before I am a lousy typist and maybe I can get myself to type 20 wpm while reading code and maybe a bit faster eventually but I think my limit on writing it down will eventually be determined by my ability to type. That's years from now so we'll see what happens.

Earlier today one of the crew that is an academy guy mentioned that he had to learn (and has since forgotten) the code for the flashing light part of his license exams. ( think they did away with this, but I am not sure)

Anyway, he looked at me and said that the military did away with using code because people in other countries knew all the characters. Duh. I looked at him feigning shock.

"You mean to tell me that people overseas understand the International Morse Code?" I asked.

It took a couple seconds. Blush.

Afternote. After I finished this post I went to the head and on a whim cranked it up to 25 wpm. I scored a 52%. Go figure. From now on I think I am going to work at 15 wpm, at least for a while.

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

Background: DiNiro and Pesci in 'Casino'. I'm not watching it.

I discovered a great feature of this 'Just learn Morse Code' program and this is what I am doing. You can set it to send entire words and they will print them out for you as they beep them out.

I just put on the headset and turn 90 degrees from the screen and with a tablet and pen on my lap I write down what it says. I an still nowhere near good enough to go on the air with any but themost patient people in the world as I am still nowhere near close enough to be considered much more than a VERY rank beginner. I keep having brain farts and have an awful lot of upps and downs.

Still, this writing things down brings code to the real world because when I go on the air I am going to have to do just that. Besides it is too difficult to type when the answers are in your face. Better to turn away from the computer screen.

During WW2 most of the radio operators used to sit in front of a typewriter and type out what they heard. While I suppose I could use this laptop I think that I am going to learn on paper as paper needs no batteries.

Incidentally, on a certain shooters website I am thinking of forming an Amateur radio club for the sole purpose of petitioning the CMP for a special events call sign for the summer National Matches at Camp Perry.

Maybe by that time I might be good enough to do a little CW on 30 meters or something. We'll see.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Sorry for all the boring talk of CW but that is what I am doing out here for a good part of my watch as we can't work outside underway.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

We can see land in the offing but there is still no cell service and as such, no internet. We must be close to BFE. There are pretty good sized chunks of the coast off of Florida that have little or no cell service. We may have some come tomorrow but that is most likely not going to last too long as we are probably going to be running offshore in this good weather to take advantage of the Gulf Stream up the east coast.

I do not see posting for several more days.

Earlier one of the guys got a 2 minute call out by holing up in the upper wheelhouse, but it was a fluke. I hope he didn't connect with one of the oil rigs as if he did he is going to get a nasty surprise when his bill comes in.

My cell bill is a flat rate no matter what so even if I did go through an oil rig that wouldn't cost me anything. Of course, the Wally World people are smart enough so that my phone won't get through on oil rig towers.

(((((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))))))

My cell is running between no service and one bar. Key end result is I cannot post yet. This is as close as we will be to shore for a while. By the time we get there I very well have written a damned book.

))))))))))))))))(((((((((((((((((((((

The Italian shipwreck seems to have taken some of the heat off of the 4 Marines that supposidly urinated on the Taliban corpses. I suppose that is a good thing for the Corps but it ain't gonna save the skins of the 4 Marines.

My guess is that somewhere along the line you are going to find a US serviceman with religious beliefs that is going to say a prayer over enemy dead and some $hit-stirring athiest is going to start some kind of an uproar and babble that it is unconstitutional.

This has happened before. I read somewhere that there was a Pacific Marine that had a knack for killing Japanese. After he'd kill one he would bow his head in prayer.

I'd be pretty careful about doing that in this day and age.

Incidentally, the news just showed a picture of the captain of Condordia whatever.
One glance and it looks to me like he was hired for his good looks. While I don't have any access to his records I'd just bet he was one of those Italian models you see in the body spray ads, or at least he looks it.

Incidentally, cowardly skippering is not necessarily and Italian thing. When Stockholm smacked Andrea Doria back in the 50s the skipper of Andrea Doria was a good officer. He tended to the passengers and if I recall he was the last one off.

For what it is worth, my aunt sailed SS United States to Europe when she was in her 20s.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Background: Politics.

One thing I have to say about Newt Gingrich is that he supports the 2nd Amendment.

That tells me that if he was elected he would probably behave himself because when you think about it most politicians are probably scared of people having the right to keep and bear arms.

After all, the 2nd Amendment ain't about duck hunting. It was put there to give the people the tools needed to boot a bad government out. If a politician opposes the 2nd Amendment it tells me that he's got some kind of bright ideas about something I don't want in my life.

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

The engineer decided to bake a pie last night. He baked it 2/3s of the way and will finish baking it this evening. I think the reason he did that is because he got a bit miffed over what happened to the brownies the deckhand make a few nights ago.

Everyone had a brownie after dinner except him for some reason. I think he only had a small piece of one, which is somewhat foolish. he general rules of leftovers is that after the meal is over the leftovers are anybodys.

Needless to say, after the night watch tore the leftovers up and when the engineer got up the next morning they were gone. What did he expect?

Baked goods go fast on any boat.

News. Barbie dolls are being banned in Iran for some reason or another. They showed Barbie dolls in Muslim dress and I suppose by Iranian standards they looked decent.

If the Iranians want something to gripe about they can block the strait.

Then the US Navy will cheerfully give them something to whine about.

I wish the Iranians would simply go away. They can go away mad if they want or they can go away happy. I don't care. I just wish they would go away.

Maybe it is a good thing I am not president because my answer to a lot of this whining would be to give them something to whine about.

"Sergeant, I don't like it when a soldier reports to me out of uniform. Get the hell out of my sight, get rid of that Spec-4 device, sew on some sergeant's stripes and report back to me tomorrow in the proper uniform. Have someone cut the orders and I'll sign them myself. You've been doing one hell of a good job!"

"What? Some jerkwater little hell-hole somewhere is threatening us with what? Which one, not that it matters. Oh... Them... No problem."

"Hello. Joint Chiefs of staff? Guess what? Job opportunities! Get a carrier group or three on it...Yeah, the usual. Just plaster all power plants and don't forget to drop a coupla, three bunker busters into the Royal palace or whatever they call it. Just get their attention, that's all. You know the drill. Just make them an offer they can't refuse."

Two days later: "They want to return all the hostages?...More than they took?...OK, but they can keep the French ones....They don't want them? Oh, well... Just tell them to send them all to Stennis and send a check for their airfare and we'll fly them all home...Hey, when you're done let's hop into Marine One and buzz on down to Quantico and we'll have a couple at the NCO club. I like drinking with sergeants. Sergeants do a pretty good job of keeping the stuffy generals and other riff-raff out."

The other side of the coin: "The Grand Caliph of where? Where the hell is that place?...Wait a minute... That's the dinky little place that saved our two Air Force pilots last year and took damned good care of them... They want to open trade relations and sell us coffee? Hell, why not? Bring him up here and we'll talk about it. Send Air Force One down to pick him up! Watch what happens when I offer him his choice of a return flight. He can either fly back in Air Force One or in the back seat of an F-16. Betcha his face lights up when I offer him a ride home in an F-16!"

"Why is there always a half-full bottle of Jim Beam on the podium when I speak? It's to remind Americans that they ought to buy American products. For everyone else it is to let them think that the nuclear football is in the hands of a drunk!"

"So some group of athiests wants the memorial cross the Marines built taken down? The ACLU is getting involved? Lease the 10 foot by 10 foot spot of land the cross is on to the local church for a buck a year. Yeah, I know. They're like everybody else. It only takes a couple whiners to give the rest of them a black eye. They don't have to have a religion if they don't want. This ain't Iran. Hell, when's the last time you saw me in church? Saint Matteresses don't count."

"Tell that Corpsman that got the Navy Cross pinned on him last week that I'd like to have him over the house for a backyard dinner and a couple of pops. Find out what he drinks...No, not the White House, MY house... And tell him jeans and a T-shirt are fine and that we're out of school. Dry cleaning uniforms costs money and he's only an E-4. Besides we're probably gonna get dirty. Half the fun is getting barbecue sauce on your shirt. "

"Four Marines urinated on a Taliban corpse? ...So?...What is going to be done about it? Just take away their beer for a week...They don't have any beer? Deliver them a case apiece right this instant and as soon as they open one up let them have one single swig and then take it away from them...No, don't put anything on their record. Taking a Marine's beer away is more than enough punishment. Oh, and make sure the beer you give them before you take it away from them is ice cold. I want this one to hurt. Next!"

"Hey, here's a good one! Some kid made Eagle Scout with a pair of artificial legs. I was planning on pinning a DSM on that GI that lost both his legs sometime next week. Let's make it a double ceremony!"

"Ever since I ordered that the prisoners in Gitmo eat what the Marines eat I've noticed an awful lot of letters of thanks coming in from the pig farmers. When I had a beer at the NCO club in Quantico one of the sergeants mentioned that the Marines down there are demanding an awful lot of pork...What am I gonna do about it? Nothing. I don't care what the Marines in Gitmo want to eat. Give them what they want."

"Yes, I am taking Air Force One... Not that big lummox that can't get out of its own way, the other Air Force One...The little one that goes like the hammers of hell... Yes, the F-16. The fishing is pretty goood in Pensacola and I figure I can get some in this afternoon...No, don't tell them I'm coming because if you do that every sailor down there will spend the next three hours picking up cigarette butts."

"No, I am NOT taking that diamond incrusted gold sword the Caliph sent me. He sent that to the President of the United States and it stays here when I leave office. What I AM taking are some of the gifts that were given specifically to Piccolo, like the rifle the Marine armorer made me. He told me specifically he was gifting it to me personally. I'm also taking the bracelet that busted up GI, Specialist Cinzano made me in the hospital after he got torn up."

"Get five or six cases of cold beer. I got me some politickin' to do! Seems up in Alaska the fishermen and loggers are tangling over a couple of salmon streams again. I'm gonna meet with them both at once and settle it once and for all. The loggers are going to keep their slash out of the stream and not drop any trees into it so the salmon can swim upstream to spawn. If they will agree to that, they can log. Then I'm going to get a deckhand job on one of the fish boats. Alaska is nice that time of year and you can bet your ass the loggers won't put a single matchstick into the stream if I'm fishing in that area!"

"Whaddya mean I can't go fishing out of Kodiak? I can run the country from the deck of a fish boat. That's what they make satellite phones for. The nuclear football? ... Yeah?... So?... It'll fit under the bunk."

"Now let me get this straight. You have lost both legs and one arm, you can pass the PT test and the bastards still want to discharge you but you want to stay in...You want jump school and to go back to the grunts? You asked for it! Good luck!"

"Yeah, I saw on CNN where the crew of Stennis was heard singing one of those nasty sea chantys while I was on board. Now go let it slip to them that I was singing right along with them! After all I was a merchant seaman long before I got elected. What's the big deal?"

"Go ask that idiot senator from Massachusetts why he's raping the taxpayer by having a staff three times bigger than mine...No, I'll do that next week when I address the Union. It'll rile everyone up a lot more that way. Maybe he'll get recalled and I won't have to listen to his crap anymore."

"So?"

"No, when Stennis crossed the equator King Neptune did NOT give me a pass. He didn't give Harry Truman a pass so why should he give one to me? For the record, I am already a shellback. In fact if you took the time to notice I was the guy wearing a diaper getting my belly kissed. In fact, that's the reason I brought Al Sharpton along. You shoulda seen the look on his face when he was told to kiss the baby's belly! His jaw dropped and he started running his mouth about dignity until Chief Benson shouted, 'Quick! Before we turn the baby over!' Sharpton was too late. I rolled over just in time."

"No, I did not have sex with that aide. I wouldn't because she's just too damned skinny. I like 'em built like Anna Nicole Smith! Now that lusty looking zuftag that works in the kitchen is one I'd nail like a Mexican roofing crew if I ever got the chance!"

"Remember when the State Department recommended that I did not take the Prime Minister to my house for the weekend? Guess what? He wants my recipe for chili. Oh, yeah. He also sent back the rotten sneakers I loaned him when we went fishing."

"So some guy in Massachusetts shot and killed SIX home invaders?...The Mass AG is prosecuting him for six counts of murder? ...Get the AG himself down to the governor's office and tell him we're going to make this terrible crime a Federal example and we're prosecuting it and not him. Then have the AG botch the case so he walks. I feel like pinning the Presidential Medal of Freedom on someone and he sounds like a pretty good candidate."

"Thanks, Corporal."

"Pirates are working out of the port of...Oh, who cares what port it is. Just flatten it. Maybe that will make that little backwash nation police itself a little better."

"Gunnery Sergeant!! Gunny!!! Run over to 8th and I and tell your boss that there's work comin' up!"

"I don't give a damn what he says about the President of the United States, but when he drags my kid sister into it he stopped picking on the president and started picking on Piccolo. Tell the son of a bitch to meet me at the gym in one hour. Get me the boxing gloves! Oh, and don't forget to thank Gunny Ziccado for sewing the horseshoes into them!"

"Re-election? I dunno. Haven't I pi$$ed off enough liberals in the past four years? ...Oh, why not! Maybe next term I can make Sarah Brady cry!"

"Come to think of it, I WILL run for re-election, but I need a new campaign manager. Get Gunnery Sergeant R.Lee Ermey on the horn, MOST riki-tik!"

"So they want how much money for foriegn aid? Hah! Fat chance. We got no money for that crap. Of course if they don't behave themselves I'm sure the Joint Chiefs of Staff can dig up a few bucks worth of missiles and stuff to make them wish they HAD behaved themselves!"

"Tell him I told him to and he was working on my explicit orders...No, I didn't give the order but tell him I did. Then ask him what he's going to do about it...Yeah, I know. I'm just tired of listening to him bellyache."

"So what if he's the head of state? He knows that $hit rolls downhill...Or he's going to find out damned soon. Tell him that if he doesn't like it he ought to move out of the valley!"

"You dumbasses would arrest someone for shouting 'theater' at a crowded fire. The Navy sunk 6 Iranian gunboats. Big deal. You don't wake me up for that. It's like waking me up to report that the janitor swept the floor. You wake me up if someone sinks one of ours!"

"No we are NOT going to tell the public which one of our military units pulled off that raid. It will endanger our service people by making them suceptible to retaliatory attacks."

Two weeks later on nationwide TV: "The man that replaced Usama bin Laden is dead. I am not going to identify of our people that took him out for their protection from vengeful retaliatory attacks. In other unrelated news I will neither confirm nor deny that the Boy Scouts have just awarded a number of marksmanship merit badges to a number of Scouts. To those forces of evil out there that wish us ill, my advice is to take a tip from the Boy Scouts. Be prepared."

" What do you mean why am I putting a stamp on that envelope? It's a card to my kid sister, that's why. Piccolo is sending it, not the President. It's not official. You seem to forget that some poor bastard has to wake up and go to work to pay for all of this and it isn't right to abuse it. While we're on the subject, quit taking pens and stuff home with you."

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

Hey, this is pretty good and if you have read this far you ought to read what I just did to the pie the engineer has been guarding.

He baked it in a cast iron skillet and it is covered with tin foil. When he made his last round I carefully raised the tinfoil around the whole pie about 3/16th of an inch and collapsed a wedge shaped section of the raised up foil.

It looked a little like someone had swiped a piece of it. Not obvious, but just subtle enough to really raise a red flag.

He came in and looked at it and furrowed his brows and looked suspiciously at me. Then he lifted the foil and looked. Nothing was missing. Then he looked at me suspiciously but I was buried in my code thing busily writing away. Then he looked around and walked off wondering if it was coincidence or someone was jerking his chain.

(((((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))

Incidentally a couple of days ago there were strawberries in the fridge. They started going bad so the deckhand ate the few that were any good and threw the rest into the trash. I dug them out and threw them into a trash bag that was already in the trash bin so as to hide them.

Then the skipper decided he wanted strawberries. Of course they were gone and looked up in surprise. He saw me typing and looked at me.

"What happened to the strawberries?" he asked.

"The mess boys must have eaten them," I replied.

It took a second but he caught it.

"I suppose now I'm supposed to collect all the keys?" he asked.

I looked up, "They simply went bad and got tossed out," I replied.

He smirked. "I was wondering if I needed to get some steel balls," said and walked off.

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

Another watch begins and I am up early for it. I see that the evening meal is going to be oven baked flounder which is a good deal for a change as I love seafood of just about any type. We eat a bit too much beef on this tug for my choice.

During my shore time of about 2 weeks I only eat a steak maybe two, eating chicken or a lot of fish instead. I like fish and there is cod in the freezer for when I get home.

The deckhand is sitting in a corner reading as the evening meal bakes and I am here posting. In the background is the TV, as always. Neither of us are watching it but I think it is some kind of food program and now that I have written about it, let's turn around and see what is on.

National Geographic. A Leopard is eating something so I guess I am close, or at least I am in a way. We're all part of a food chain.

There is a rumor that I will be back in internet range about 0200 and I have instructed the deckhand to wake me up if it looks like we have a good signal and it looks like it will last for over 20 minutes. If so I will post this entire thing in one fell swoop and then see if there is anything really important in my email.

After almost a week it is going to be pretty full. Most of it is probably stuff that I do not really need but there is a chance I might have something in there that requires attention. We'll see what happens. If anything of a true emergency comes up they can always get me via sattellite phone it ift is a bona fide emergency. For now, back to some code.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Code is sloooowly starting to come together. I have swapped out the little timer thing so that the messages run three minutes and I am staarting to be able to make words out of it.

The evening meal has interrupted things and the flounder was good. We had the apple pie the engineer made and it was pretty good. He hasn't even looked at me after I diddled with the tinfoil earlier today to make it look like someone swiped a piece before dinner so I guess I got away with that one.

While not imperative, I do want to post tonight if I get the chance.

This blog means something to me in that it is a good feeling to get the word out even though I am not some kind of big shot correspondent. This really is more of a labor of love than much of anything. It is just a place where I can speak my peace and express myself in a semi-civilized manner.

While I don't have much of a sizable readership I feel I owe it to them to do the best I can to post daily.

+++++++++++++++++++++++

THE SHOW MUST GO ON!!!

And so begins another watch.

I am getting tired and I am beginning to burn out on things to a certain extent.

I am doing a lot worse on my code. It seems like I forgot everything, but I guess that is the part of the learning curve.

We got a little cell signal for a few minutes which was just enough for the boys to get a call home with but not enough so I could get on line and post this. I did manage to check my email on my cell phone and I am grateful there wasn't anything that requires an immediate response.

I can tell by the eating habits what phase of the trip we are on by the way the crew eats. I had leftover fish and eggs for breakfast and the guy next to me just heated up a bowl full of leftover corn.

Tonight is steak night and we'll see how that one plays out. The problem with steaks is that they are not all the same and there is sometimes quiet griping. These are all good so I will quietly take the small one to preclude anyone saying anything. It's really a pretty good chunk of beef anyway.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Sometimes unlimited phone plans are not unlimited

2012-01-13T05:59:00.002-05:00

One of the guys here was just telling me about how he got shafted by his cell phone provider.

Of course, this is nothing. A lot of the big companies simply try and roll over the ordinary guy every time they get a chance. We were out in the Gulf of Mexico a while back when he decided to call home. He picked up his cell phone and noticed he had a couple of bars on it so he called his wife. After a while the call dropped so when he saw he had more bars he called again for a total of three calls to the Philly area.

Bam! A $700 bill showed up even though he has an unlimited plan. The cell providers excuse?

"Oh, these are special towers set up on the oil rigs."

Now what part of the words "Unlimited plan" do these salespeople fail to understand?

Of course, when he called the cell provider, they told him that those were special towers that routed the calls through Mexico or something along these lines.

He wasn't calling Mexico, he was calling Philly. How the phone company wants to route calls is their headache.

Needless to say, there wasn't an operator or some mechanism to inform him he was opening a page from 'The Gouger's Handbook", they simply shafted him and permitted the call to go through.

I've been in the same places as he has and when I've seen bars on mine I've tried to see if I could call home and the call didn't go through because my cell plan is with Wally World and I suppose there is a code of some sorts that doesn't let my phone go through the cell towers they have on the oil rigs.

Because his phone is with the same company that services the rigs the company took him for a ride.

For one thing I do not plan on doing business with an outfit like that.

For anotther thing, although the WallyWorld plan doesn't have the most cutting edge technology as far as phones go, he is going to toss his phone and go to Wally World in a couple of months when his contract is over.

I want to hear what kind of offers his present phone service provider tries to butter him up with when he drops them.

I know how I would handle them. I would tell them to go back through my records and take careful note of the way they raped me from an oil rig tower and ask them if they consider that to be an honest business practice.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Right now I am hearing reports

2012-01-12T19:59:00.002-05:00

of a group of US Marines urinating an three Taliban corpses.

First of all, my attitude is Big deal. So what?

What do the Taliban do to our guys?

Still, it is against Marine Corps core values which are designed to bring credit on the organization. I suppose the Marines should be given some sort of disciplinary action like get fined a dollar and told never to do it again in front of a camera.

If I was the officer responsible for bringing up charges I suppose I would probably charge the four of them with being stupid. You don't do something like that in front of a camera.

Then again, if I knew who was running the camera I would probably charge him for conduct unbecoming a Marine and make damned good and sure every I was dotted and every T was crossed to make the charges stick like glue on sticky stuff.

While I really do not care if the Marines decide to eat dead Taliban if that becomes the rage, they had better make damned good and sure that nobody catches them doing it because first of all there are a lot of liberal do-good whiners in the world that will do anything to ruin the reputation of the Marine Corps.

Of course, the Marines ought to have shown a little more common sense when they do something like this near a camera. They are making things a bit harder for the rest of the Corps because in addition to making the PR department jump up and defend the Corps, they also make life a little more difficult for their fellow Marines.

The other side takes incidents like this and spins them and uses them for recruiting purposes. That results in future casualties so maybe it is a good idea to disciline these Marines.

Still, it's a damned shame to have four Marines get into hot water over something as insignificant as this.

Then again on another website I frequent someone pointed out that at every bachelor party there is always some dip$shit with a cell phone camera. I mentioned this to a couple of guys and he told me that at a recent bachelor party the best part of the party was listening to the dip$hit moan and bellyache about his new expensive smart phone being snatched out of his hands and stuffed down a garbage disposal where it ground away until it jammed the disposal. It was then pulled out of the garbage disposal and by then it had already been pretty much destroyed.

I carefully explained to the crewman that the proper tool for the job is the chipper/shredder. If you are going to do something, do it right. He agreed.

Maybe future servicemen could take a cue from this guy and in the future they could make it clear to the mentally challenged that think that recording everything is a good idea that it isn't a good idea. A smashed camera and a few bruises generally ought to do the trick. If not, there is always the smashed camera followed by nine from the sky a couple of times.

The way I would handle this is that the 4 Marines would get some form of disciplinary action under Article 15, UCMJ. The cameraman would be publicly congratulated for doing such a fine job of bringing this terrible outrage to the attention of the American public. Maybe even give him a low grade medal of some sort.

About a month later after everything died down I'd catch the cameraman with his socks on the wrong feet or whatever I could find and nail his a$$ to the wall. A General Courts-martial sounds about right, followed by a Big Chicken Dinner.

While good Marines are not expected to urinate on the bodies of the animals that were trying to kill them a few minutes earlier, they are also expected to have their socks on the correct feet at all times.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Still in range (I hope)

2012-01-12T05:51:00.000-05:00

Still in range (I hope)

One of the things I want to do is spend a weekend at my place with my nephew. He's about 30 now and a damned good man the way I see things. For quite a few yars as a kid he had a herd row to hoe but made out damned well.

When I make my final port I want to put him in charge of having me buried at sea by the Navy and I'd like to talk to him about that and a few other things. I think he'd do a good job of boxing me up and delivering my remains to Norfolk.

Box me up, toss the box into the back of my pickup and take me to Norfolk.

Gott admit, Uncle Pic is sure planning an interesting road trip for his nephew.

"I was driving this old pickup down to Norfolk with my dead uncle boxed up in the back when..."

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

I was in the airport several hours ago and

2012-01-11T18:00:00.001-05:00

wrote one hell of a good long post. I arrived there a couple of hours early because I always manage to get torn up pretty good by TSA. This time it wasn't too bad because I had time to play with.

I had expected to get torn up because I had quite a few odds and ends in my carry-on that are not usual things people carry on board. There is a 2 meter rig and a wire antenna package for one thing and a few other odds and ends.

I had about an hour and a half to burn so I sidled up next to the nearest electrical outlet and fired up the laptop and realized the cell phone was low so I broke out the triple splitter and shared the outlet with two other people. The triple splitter I wrote about a couple of days ago. It is a good thing to have.

I sat there describing the sights and sounds of the people at the gate waiting and commenting on the various people there. One of the women I saw there with a couple of kids had somewhat of a disappointed air about her.

I looked at here and tried to figure out what it was in her face that made he look so disappointed. She had a halfway decent sort of a husband that obviously was able to support her and the kids, but probably not in some manor.

Then it occurred to mme that she might have been one of those 'Daddy's little princess' types that expect a Prince Charming with a monster income.

I looked carefully at here and noticed that she really didn't seem to have a lot to offer and had an air that she deserved more. On the other hand she didn't seem to have a lot to offer, either. While she was dressed civilly as in no sweatpants and the rest of the 'People of WalMart type uniform she really didn't seem to put a whole lot into her appearance.

I looked at her and thought that while she probably didn't have as much as some women do, she still had something to work with and she could have been a whole lot more appealing with just a little effort. Obviously she wasn't putting out the effort to make herself attractive.

I've seen a few older pictures of Pamela Anderson taken with no makeup on and her hair not done clothed in sloppy jeans and she's really not all that attractive.

I looked around and there was another woman with a kid traveling with her husband and kid and she looked pretty content and fairly attractive. She was well dressed and seemed to have a satisfied air about her. Her husband seemed to be a regular guy that didn't appear to be rich, just another guy that worked in an office like the other woman's husband.

The difference is that she was putting her best foot forward and seemed to be grateful for what she had.

I mentally undressed the pair of them and from that point of view that probably had about the same to work with. I think the whole thing came down to attitude. The first woman probably could have been a whole lot more attractive is she had a different one.

The other thing I saw was at the shoeshine stand. I watched a couple guys get their shoes shined and it was interesting. One guy read the paper and the other guy held his knees and looked uncomfortable having someone else shine his shoes.

I suppose I would probably look the second guy if I was having my shoes shined. Shining shoes is one thing I would feel uncomfortable having someone else do. It must go back to the army as I grew comfortable spit shining jump boots. Shining shoes is one thing I like to do for myself for some reason.

I guess I'd make a lousy rich man.

At one point a couple of little kids were sprawled on the floor near my feet at the gate and the cutest little girl politely asked me if she could get by me. I scrunched back and moved my feet for her. For this I was treated to the cutest little thank you followed by a big smile. Because of that I looked carefully at the pretty little thing. I guess she was about 7 or 8.

She was lithe, graceful for her age and looked like she was could easily grow up to be a ballerina.

Many years ago I was asked to help out with a local production of the Wizard of Oz but couldn't because of work obligations but I got to see a rehearsal with a bunch of young little girls from a local ballet class playing the role of the Munchkins.

Most of the little tutus were droopy because the little girls were young and clumsy but there were a couple of them that just fluttered. This ittle girl in the airport would probably make a tutu flutter.

I saw the usual collection of fat people chowing down on grease and flour and the usual thin people opt for salads.

Of course I was with five other guys and we shared the same purpose. We were going to go to Texas to man a boat.

While some of the guys griped about having to hang out about an hour and a half before the flight left, I simply plugged in the laptop and started posting.

Like I said earlier I lost it when the airport ISP got wierd on me so I have just rewritten it, or at least some of it.

I might have another day I can post before I go out of internet range for a few days. We'll see.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

So I have arrived in Texas and I am disappointed

2012-01-11T17:08:00.002-05:00

During the hour and a half ride from the airport I didn't see a single oil well, cow, cowboy, Indian fight. I didn't get passed by a powder blue Lincoln Continental with big horns on the hood and little six-gun door handles driven by a fat guy in a white suit and big white Stetson. (Fix it as cheap as you can,Son. We're gettin' rid of this one when the ash tray gets full!)

There wasn't a single shootout on the main drag and there were no cattle stampedes or any of that.

Nobody was wearing a brace of six-guns and I didn't see Chuck Norris kung-fu anyone.

I didn't get to see Rock Hudson and Elizabeth Taylor and James Dean. I didn't see a place called 'Sarge's Diner'.

All I can do now is ask, "Now what in the wide, wide world of sports has happened to the Texas I have heard about since I was a little kid!".

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

An airport dispatch

2012-01-11T08:44:00.000-05:00

Which is interesting. Sometimes it is fun posting on the fly.

I got to the airport a couple hours early because I always get torn up pretty badly by TSA. This time it wasn't too bad, but as usual I got hit for special treatment. Still, I got through quickly and I'm a bit surprised. My baggage has a 2 meter ham rig in it and I figured I'd get torn up and have to explain it, but I didn't.

We're headed to Texas and there will be a long period where we are out of internet range for the next two weeks.

I'm going to have to see if there are little periods where we get the internet so I can post here and there, but I think it is going to be a no go situation for the most paet.

I forgot to charge my cell phone while I crossed the state of PA and now I sit in the airport with my laptop and cell charger plugged into the wall using the little splitter I have mentioned a couple of posts ago.

There is a family a couple of seats down as I sit at the gate anf the kids are sprawled out on the floor with coloring books and the little girl seems to be doing a pretty good job of coloring between the lines. The mother is feeding the babyright now letting an infant lick the chocolate off of a candy bar.

The crew is spread out waiting, too. Two are on the phone and one is getting something to eat.

I just wrote a lot more but AT&T internet just crammed their offer down my throat and BAM! I lost 90% of it and have had to reopen what I managed to salvage.

Airport connections suck.

Plan on me being off the board for the better part of a couple of weeks.

I'll do what I can to keep this blog posted daily but it's not going to happen with any regularity.

Would an ARFCOMMER please post a hot link to this post?

Thanks, Pic

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

I am watching a new generation coming along

2012-01-11T06:05:00.000-05:00

and as the generation is losing their milk teththe tooth fairy arrives and my neice mentioned it.

I guess teeth are now worth a buck or two becaause of inflation. Mine paid a dime.

Anyway I commented that I am the kkind of evil person that would sneak in and put a $!00 bill under the kids pillow and slip off into the night to leave my neice wondering what to do when the next tooth comes out as like most young people raising families they really can't afford that.

When I told my neice that I wish I was there so I could do that to her, she commented,"You would!"

I did it to her when she was a baby and lost her milk teeth. I didn't get away with it because mmy kid sister (her mom) grew up with me and knew my MO.

Sis simply reached under the pillow and fished the Franklin out and replaced it with a buck and then came out and gave me hell for it.

We do not take prisoners in the Piccolo tribe.

That is the same neice I introduced as my young wife a couple of years back

Having me in the family can either be misery of a lot of fun, and it all depends on your outlook.

I am going out of internet range bust will play catchup.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

(Semi) EMERGENCY UPDATE

2012-01-10T17:36:00.000-05:00

I am headed to BFE tomorrow AM.

No internet except for odd places here and there.

I will try write a post a day but will winding up posting them as I can.

That is all.

Pic,

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

I am now a spook, thanks to Neighbor Bob.

2012-01-10T06:46:00.000-05:00

The other day we were hanging out with nothing to do and Bob had a day off. We packed up the PRC-320 and decided to do a little hilltopping and the closest place we could think of was the mall. We had done this a few weeks ago at about the same time of day.

As I was trying to get a QSO on the 20 meter band I noticed a nosy looking old man about 100 feet away talking to someone and pointing at us. I nodded to Bob and asked him, "What's that all about?"

He looked, squinted. "Oh........him." he said. Bob looked a bit sheepish.

"What about him?" I asked.

"He's probably telling that other guy you're a CIA spook or something." he answered.

"Now why would he be doing a thing like that?" I asked. "Out with it!"

"Remember the last time we were here? I went into the mall to get us some coffee?" He asked.

"Ye ee es," I answered.

"Well, when I was coming back I saw him coming your way and headed him off." he said.

I glanced at the guy. He looked like one of those nosy, gossippy little wimpy guys that generally are more trouble than they are worth. They mean well, I suppose but they are an awful pain in the ass. I have one I regularly play with, Nebby Larry. I feed him all sorts of disinformation like how I am planning on using Bangalore torpedoes to weed with or that I am hunting for land mines just to have him call the police on me which he does frequently.

"And you told him what?" I asked. I wasn't angry, I was actually amused.

"Well, I saw him headed this way and he had a nosy way about him and I knew he was coming over to meddle into what we were doing," said Bob.

"Out with it," I said smirking.

Apparently the last time we were hilltopping this mall the guy, I think he's a regular, one of those guys that walks through the mall for exercise was headed out and spotted me with the PRC-320 and gabbing away and the man got curious and was headed over to investigate. Bob headed him off and put on his best 'Gosh, golly, Gee, whiz' act and told the guy that I lived a couple of doors down from him and had for several years. He told him that he had been over my house as a neighbor and saw a back bedroom room door heavily locked and that there was a steel plate covering the rear window and that there was some kind of radio tower in your backyard. Also that government cars pull into my driveway every so often.

Bob ended it by telling the nosy jerk that he thought I was some kind of spook and if he was smart he would stay away from me.

I looked at Bob, who was a little red-faced. Then I glanced at the idiot that was still there furtively looking at me. I knew that if the guy had come over to visit me the last time he would have been like Nebby Larry and called the police on me.

While I have hilltopped there a number of times and met the police officers driving by there a couple of times, I have never had them called on me. While I am doing nothing wrong, I am not at my house where Nebby Larry calls the police all the time and they are used to it. This is a different town and I don't want the police called on me.

I looked at the guy still there giving me furtive looks and I knew Bob had done the right thing when he had told the man I was a spook of some sort. This guy would have been a pain to get rid of. Generally most people that see me hilltopping with my rig ask me what I am doing and when I tell them they leave it at that, but this guy looked like he would be a real pain in the neck.

I turned to Bob.

"This is good," I said. "Now I am a spook!

Then I turned to the guy giving us the furtive looks and gave him a hard glare. He got nervous, got into his car and drove off.

Then I turned to Bob.

"Next time I come here hilltopping I am going to replace you with a tall, tall dark-haired woman in a long, low cut gown and a Russian accent," I said."Then I'll try and check in on the Moose and Squirrel net!"

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Right now I am on 12 hour standby which is a drag.

2012-01-09T08:08:00.000-05:00

My bag is packed, most of the stuff I generally secure is hidden away and it will only take a few minutes for me to scramble. When the cell goes off and cuts loose with the Tarzan yell I have in it I'll pick it up and see where I am headed.

This is not really a good time because you really can not relax.

The 2 meter rig is put away which I suppose is OK because there are no ISS overhrad passes coming up before I leave so that's not a big deal. Still, I am not living at home so much as I am camping in at my house.

There is a tenseness in the air that will go away instantly when the scramble order is given.

Still, at least I have my destination down to two fairly civilized places and that's OK. At least I have some idea where I am going to go.

Generally crew change is pretty much the same old same old and that in itself is a stable thing and this leads to another contradiction. I seem to do best in an unstable enviornment. On the other hand I really like to have stability by knowing when the instability is going to start.

Another part of my problem is that I am too often taken out of context. Often times people do not realize that sometimes a question is simply a question. I recently spoke with a coworker and asked him a question about something that I knew was still up in the air.

I saw that the person I had asked was a bit aggravated on the question and he said he was working on it and seemed to think I was pressing him for some sort of solid answer. I wasn't. I simply wanted to know if thisngs were still in a state of flux.

I have been around long enough to know that when things are instable that the people upstairs sometimes feel they are in the middle of a crunch and what I sometimes try to do is relieve a little of the pressure by not bugging them for details and answers. On the other hand I simply want to know if things are still in a upheaval.

A yes or no answer is all I want. Unfortunately some people interpret this as bugging them when I am not. Generally I am on their side and the reason I ask is so I can do whatever it is to stand by and help out. It took a while but my guys figured out that when I ask a simple question, all I want is a simple answer.

Anyway, in a couple of hours I will check in and see what is happening see what is going on.

Bet I get a simple answer.

He either will know what my destination is or he won't.

Either way I am packed and ready to go.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Yeah, the key really is that good.

2012-01-08T08:22:00.000-05:00

Someone just asked me about the telegraph key I just bought and asked me if it was built well. Here's my reply.

Dateline: Pittsburgh.

A home invasion was thwarted last night by a senior citizen wielding what later proved to be a telegraph key.

When police arrived at the Piccolo residence at 3:14 am they discovered a gristly sight. There were two bleeding men lying on the floor and the wild-eyed naked homeowner savagely beating the third invader with what was later recognized as a Chinese K-4 military telegraph key on the end of a cable.

It took the herculean efforts of six officers to restrain and disarm the senior citizen and one of the officers, speaking with the promise of anonymity, explained that after the man was disarmed that it took the better part of a bottle of Jameson's Irish Whisky to get him settled down and rational.

After the police got the homeowner settled down and dressed, he calmly plugged the blood-soaked telegraph key into a radio on a nearby desk and began tapping out a message to someone. When questioned by one of the officers regarding who he was communicating with, he explained that he communicating with the seller of the key and was ordering a spare to keep in his bedroom for protection against further attempts at home invasion.

No charges are expected to be filed.

All three of the home invaders were shipped directly to the intensive care ward at Allegheny General and one of them is actually expected to survive.

I know I have posted this on another website but I'm posting it here for the handful of hams that occasionally drop in here.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

One night at a night club, 1970s. Wearing pajamas for a night on the town

2012-01-07T10:06:00.000-05:00

This goes back to the 70s and the Disco era.

I wasn't much for night clubs and the disco places then and I'm not now but every once in a blue moon I'd go out to listen to a good band. I was never a sucker for the game in that I felt no need whatsoever to go to whatever place at the time the in crowd deemed cool.

One night I wanted to go out and hear this band that a friend of mine highly recommended. They had a gig for a few nights at the local uppity club. I cleaned up and showed up only to be refused entry because of something I was wearing. If I recall it was a pair of jeans.

So on the way home I decided two things. First, I was not going to go out and buy a leisure suit and secondly I was going to get in there wearing something ridiculous.

I think I was about halfway home when the idea hit me and looking back on things it was pretty sharp thinking on my part. I would walk in to the club and be complimented with my new outfit. I immediately changed course and went somewhere and bought a pair of pajamas.

Pajamas? What?

Yes, pajamas. The kind that buttoned down the front. Instant leisure suit.

I also snagged a can of spray starch and took my purchases home and went to work tailoring them with my mother's sewing machine. I took the pants and hemmed them and then took some in at the thighs and flared them out down past the knee and they looked like a pair of bell-bottoms which were in the vogue at the time.

Then I took the top in here and there. Presto! Instant leisure suit!

Seeing as to how it was summertime I figured if anyone asked me about it I could tell them it was a lightweight summer outfit I had snagged down south somewhere.

Then I got out the iron and the starch and went to work in the outfit. It was now pretty late but I didn't have to go to work so I slept in the next morning.

The next evening I donned the outfit and hopped into my MGB and headed back to the club. The doorman recognized me from the previous entry and commented that I looked a lot better than I had the previous evening, collected my cover charge and let me in.

As I slipped past I thought to myself, "What an idiot. He wouldn't let me in wearing basic street clothes but seemed to be really glad to let me in wearing a pair of pajamas!"

I wandered in, took a seat at the bar as was my custom at the time, ordered a drink and kicked back.

Relatively unknown at the time, the band was the J. Geils Blues Band. They were hot. This was before their hits, 'Freeze Fame' and 'Centerfold' hit the charts.

I ran into a couple of people there I knew and most of them were somewhat surprised to see me in a place like that. One of them that I had gone to high school with had not grown up yet. I spoke with him a couple of years ago and he still hasn't grown up, but I digress.

Anyway, a gal I had gone to school with saw me and approached me during a band break and told me how nice I looked in my outfit. She was one of the few in high school that I could stomach because she respected me for not caving in to the social pressures around me. I instinctively trusted her because of that.

I let her know that I had been denied entrance the previous evening because of improper attire, yet here I was wearing a pair of pajamas. She looked confused for a second and then reached out and felt the materiel.

"They ARE pajamas," she said.

"I took them in here and there and pressed them up," I said. "The idiot at the door wouldn't let me in wearing a pair of new jeans and a nice shirt last night but tonight he let me in wearing a pair of pajamas."

She laughed. "You did a good job taking them in," she said.

While to this day I don't think she ratted me out, I think her date overheard us and went straight to the guy that was a troublemaker in high school.

A few minutes later someone behind me grabbed the back of my collar and pulled it down. Taken by surprise, I went straight into attack mode. I spun around, cupped both hands and brought them in smartly against his ears. As soon as I connected I realized who it was and saw him recoil in shock. I had taken him by surprise and had bought myself enough time to leave. I quietly walked to the door, crossed the parking lot, got into the MG and quietly drove off.

Fifteen minutes later I was perched on a barstool in a waterfront dive a couple of towns over. The bartender recognized me and commented on my attire. I told him the story and we both laughed like hell.

He also told me the troublemaker wasn't allowed in the joint and went on to opine that it wasn't very likely that he'd get very far if he tried to press charges. For one thing I hadn't left a mark on him, just a pair of sore ears.

I had a quick beer and left.

About a year later I ran into the woman that had been there that night. She asked me what I had done to disable the troublemaker so quickly and I told her. She commented that she had wondered as he didn't appear to have a mark on him.

The clown apparently moaned and groaned for a while about how he was going to have me arrested until someone told him to stop being a crybaby and to man up. He apparently had seen the entire event and told him that if it wound up in court he would testify in my behalf and I guess it ended with that.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

An exception to my rule of not advertising for a business

2012-01-06T06:59:00.000-05:00

I seldom ever say anything about companies on this blog but this is going to be the second exception I have ever made.

I bought the Combat laptop from Excel Computers in Carrollton, Georgia almost a year ago and a couple of weeks ago the hard drive crashed.

Now before the readers start jumping to conclusions and wondering why the Combat laptop crapped out on me in less than a year you have to understand that this is NOT a $6500 machine I bought from the manufacturer. It was government surplus and I paid about $200 for it, delivered. In short, things like this are generally throwaways to most people.

The Excel people bore no responsibility whatsoever. None. I had bought a surplus item and it worked for a while and died. I had no rights to expect much more.

When the Combat laptop went down I wondered how to get it back up and running and decided to see if some IT guy I knew would be able to swap the hard drive out if I managed to snag one. I really didn't know where to go to get one so I decided to call the place I bought it. I called Excel Computers and spoke to one of the people there.

I explained that I knew it was a surplus item and that I wasn't griping, I simply wanted the part and maybe a little advice as to how to install it and install the operating system.

Instead he simply told me to send the machine in along with a little more than the cost of shipping.

I explained that I was pressed for time as my shore time was limited and that this machine is my seagoing computer. No problem, he told me.

I sent it to him the day I get back from sea and he was good to his word. In one week I had the machine back. I turned it on and it fired right up and seems to work better than it did when I first got it. I checked and all of the pesty Itronix drivers needed to make the thing run right were installed, also. All I had to do was download a few updates and I was back in business.

You do not run into people and businesses like that in this day and age and it is wonderful when you do.

I have never heard of a company servicing a surplus machine that was sold pretty much 'as is' simply for the price of shipping plus probably less than the price of parts. This is a first for me.

It makes you wonder how a company like that can survive until you think about it for a while.

Then you realize how they manage to survive. It is a thing called repeat business and I can say for sure that if they have what I need in the future I am going to look them up first. These people are great!

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

A tip for travelers

2012-01-05T07:18:00.000-05:00

If you do any traveling than one of these has a place in your carry-on bag.

Airports and other places are noted for having a limited number of AC outlets and if you need to plug in a laptop or charge a cell phone and happen to find both outlets of a wall socket taken you can generally solve the problem with one.

Once I had some clown hogging both of the outlets and when I held up the 3 way he stuffily told me that he was using both. I simply unplugged his cell charger, plugged his charger and my laptop into the orange adapter, put it in the outlet and turned to him.

"Quick fix," I said. Although the guy was a selfish jerk and gave me a dirty look he knew he couldn't say a whole lot. I fired up the laptop and was in business.

Generally when you hold one up as you approach the outlet people smile or nod because they realize you are not being part of the problem, but you are the person with a solution and most people respect that.

Stuff one in your carry on and sometimes you will be glad you did.

The orange one seems to be the best because you can often put 3 wall warts in it.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

The PRC-320 at Starbucks. Last fall.

2012-01-04T06:47:00.000-05:00

I had the PRC-320 with me and decided I needed a cup of joe. I was in the process of scouting out a decent spot to set the rig up and get on the air but the urge for a cup of coffee set in. The warning light was on and I was going to put it out. I pulled into a lot where I knew there was a Starbucks.

It was a pretty warm fall day and as I write about this mishap I am looking out the window at this white nasty cold stuff falling out of the sky. I pulled into the lot and automatically started scanning for a place to go on the air. The more I looked the better the Starbucks looked. It was on high ground and I decided on a whim to see if I could simply set up shop on one of the tables.

The best way of getting thrown out of the place would be to simply set up shop. I knew I had to ask permission. This was one of those cases where asking permission would probably be a whole lot less trouble than asking for forgiveness. While generally it is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission I knew this would not be the case.

I made a mental note of any credentials I might need to show if asked and remembered that I had both my Merchant Seaman's document and my FCC ham license. Those were real and I knew that they'd be accepted.

In Pittsburgh the Merchant Seaman's document is a pretty powerful document. Often called a Z-card, it generally commands a certain amount of respect as there are not a whole lot of them floating around here and they look pretty impressive. Most people do not know what they are and therefore are impressed by one.

I hopped out of the pickup and slung the PRC set onto my back and walked into the Starbucks. While ordering my coffee I asked for the manager and she appeared instantly. I asked her if I could set up my radio outside on one of the tables.

"Are you some kind of governmental agency?" she asked.

"Merchant Marine, Ma'am," I replied. "Conducting a ham radio emergency communications drill."

She told me to go ahead and I took my coffee outside and moved one of the tables a couple of feet and opened the ancilleries bag. Out came my slingshot/fishing reel and before anyone could say anything an ounce sinker dragging monofiliment line lofted up and described a perfect arc over not one, but two light poles about fifty yards apart. It was one hell of a lucky shot.

There were curious looks but nobody said anything and I wandered out to the sinker end of the line and attached a piece of 550 paracord to it and returned and reeled the paracord in. While I was doing this a well dressed woman in a suit asked what I was doing and I told her I was conducting an emergency communications drill. She asked if she could help and I told her she could watch the rig and if she felt like it she could charge the battery. I showed her how and she started spinning the crank.

As she was doing that I ran out and finished stringing the antenna. I had guessed well and the antenna was up, well out of reach of even the biggest of trucks and the end was right at the rig. I connected it, thanked the woman, spun the crank a few more times. I then turned the rig on. It had only taken a few minutes.

I went straight to twenty meters and slowly combed through the band which is a pain. The 320 was not made for scanning and the decade switches are a pretty slow way to find anything out there but after a few minutes and a few CQs I made contact with a ham out in Texas, which is one of the states I needed to complete my 'All States' project that I am still working on.

As I yakked with the Texan, I turned to the woman that had cranked the generator. "Texas," I said to her and she nodded.

It was about this time I looked at myself and realized what I must have looked like. I had on a pair of worn khaki pants topped with a British Navy pullover sweater and I was wearing on my head what looked like a German U-boat skipper's cap. Add a growing in winter beard to the picture and it is complete. Kapitan Piccolo. Oh, well. Too late now.

The Texan was actually fishing for someone else when we QSO'd and we broke off and I fished around for someone else and in a couple of minutes I was in contact with someone in Nebraska. "Nebraska," I said to the interested woman, who nodded.

Some jerk in a suit wandered up and asked me in a psuedo tough guy what the hell was going on. I answered by reaching into my pocket and pulling out my Z-card and FCC license. "Ecomm drill," I answered with a tone of authority in my voice, and holding out my IDs. The look I gave him when I pulled one earphone off let him know I wasn't going to be intimidated my his demanding tone. He looked a little humbled as he wandered off back to his table. As he was walking back, the woman spoke to him.

"Now that he's told you, he's going to have to shoot you," she said and a couple of other people chuckled.

Then she picked up her coffee and sat down next to me.

"You're pretty smooth," she said, in a very low tone. "I knew what you were doing the minute I saw you. My father is a ham radio operator and he has a similar set. He called it an 'Angry nine' and every summer the kids would drop by and turn the generator for him in the yard. I won't say anything because I think it's funny."

I was sort of shocked in a way. The woman was dressed in heels, hose, a suit, makeup, the whole deal and I knew she was a professional of some sort. I asked her what she did and she told me she was some kind of supervisor for a drug company. While I seldom meet people like her, I wonder about them. I'd bet she grew up with ten brothers or something along these lines. Maybe she was raised by a single father.

"He used to talk to people all over the world," she said. Then she returned to her table. A few minutes later she got up and met someone I presume was her husband. She swung by the table and thanked me for reminding her of her dad. That was nice of her. I thanked her for helping me out.

I went back to work trying to find someone else to QSO with and shortly made another pair of contacts. As I was finished yakking with the first a Marine wandered by and asked me what was going on. I grinned and told him it was a uber cool emergency tactical ham radio Ecomm drill. He grinned and wandered inside and bought a coffee and some kind of snack and when he approached the table I offered him a seat.

The jerk that had demanded to know what was going on was still there glaring at me. In a hushed tone I told the young Marine what was going on and asked him to give the guy a hard looking over which he did. It made the man a bit nervous. A minute later he left.

Of course, I am the one telling the story so we can say that maybe he had listened to the woman and left because he was afraid the Marine was going to shoot him because I told him what I was doing. Yeah. Good addition to this tale and even though I really do not know why he left we can say he fled in fear for his life. Why not? Makes the story a little more interesting. Whatever. Shortly after the Marine gave him a hard look he left.

I told the Marine what I was doing and he asked me if the rig was an old Army one and I told him it was British. He was impressed and he sat there as I dug around and scored another contact.

I decided to call it a day as I didn't want to wear out my welcome. The Marine offered to help me. I found out he was on recruiting duty hence the uniform. He wound in my antenna and as soon as he was done I tossed the antenna bobbin in the ancilleries bag, shouldered the rig, went in and thanked the manager and off I went.

I had gotten clean away with it. Sometimes the best place to sleep is in the lion's mouth.

It is winter now and cold as all hell. If we get a couple of warm days I'm going to set up shop in the WallyWorld lot again some afternoon and work 10 and 20 meters.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Last night I made my first CW QSO.

2012-01-03T07:08:00.000-05:00

I made morse code contact last night with another ham!

It was a very slow process, I know for sure I send a damned sight better than I receive and I think I am going to start listening to CW for a little time each day.

I would imagine that if there are any hams reading this they would raise their eyebrows with the key I was using. It is the British military key that is issued with the PRC-320 because that is the rig I used.

The key is one of those field keys that straps to one's thigh.

I suppose someone out there is going to say I should haave used some sore of paddle or at least a stable desk key of such and such a type but it is what I have. I have a desk key on order, due any day now.

Generally speaking, just about any time I go into anything the experts tell me I am doing it all wrong and in a sense they are often probably right. Still, there are an awful lot of things I do differently for my own reasons.

Oftentimes you have to jump on an opportunity and that is what I did. I met a guy on 2 meters that is a CW guy and he offered me a chance to do a CW thing with him so I jumped on the opportinity.

I simply decided to go with what I have.

Generally in life you have to grab an opportunity and do just that. You go with what you got.

If I decided to wait until I could recieve 35 words a minute or wait until I had a good key or whatever I would still be waiting. I didn't wait.

I went for it and now I can say I have a CW contact under my belt. Not bad.

I'd also like to thank the other ham as blood donors like him are hard to find.

ANyway, I did it and I am a happy camper.

And I did it with the PRC-320 and the issue key. Pretty neat. I did it my way.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Happy New Year's. Human organs. Do not eat.

2012-01-02T08:29:00.002-05:00

While I did not go out on New Year's Eve I did go out on New Year's Day. I went to the hospital because I was feeling mischievious and mischief is a pretty good way to start a new year.

Of course, one has to dress for a visit to the hospital and I put on a clean set of coveralls and packed a lunch to eat while I was there. Some people bring a lunch and buy coffee at the coffee shop there. I have seen more than one person do this and the coffee shop people said nothing abouut it so I suppose it is OK.

Anyway I have gotten back from lunch at the hospital and I wandered into the coffee shop attired as mentioned and ordered a coffee and sat down. There was some kind of young hospital technician sitting at the table next to mine. I would estimate she was in her early 20s and when she saw the stickers on my Igloo Playmate lunch box she blancheds a bit but said nothing. The stickers on my Igloo read ''Human Organs. Do not eat."

I fished a sandwich out of the box and unwrapped it and took a bite. I guess the woman's break was over because she got up and left. Her chair didn't get cold, though because a doctor of some kind filled it an instant later. He took one look at me and the lunch box and grinned. "Having an old friend for lunch?" he asked me.

I smirked back at him. I instinctively liked this guy. He was sharp. I looked at him closer and recognized him. He was a partner of a doctor I had treat me some time back. In fact, I had changed a tire for him when I went to the office he shared with the guy that had treated me. I had heard him telling one of the reception people to call someone to come and change it and I spoke up and offered to swap it out after I had been seen by his partner. He took me up on my offer.

I'm sure the Doctor wasn't above changing his own tire, I think he was just too jammed up to be able to do it for himself. Anyway, after I was finished with my appointment I changed the guys tire. I did notice it was not a typical 'Doctor car' in that it wasn't brand new.

"Still driving the same car, Doc?" I asked.

"I was wondering if you'd recognize me," he replied. "No, I got rid of that car a while ago. I probably kept it too long but I hate the process of buying cars so I kept putting it off."

I laughed. I know what he means. Buying a car is misery.

We chatted and he started eating his snack. He had snagged a light lunch and was probably chowing down before doing surgery or something.

The table on the other side was empty and was suddenly occupied by what looked to be a humorless matronly looking woman in a suit. She was some kind of hospital administrator by appearances and wasn't paying attention.

I ignored her and decided to see if she was paying attention. It took a few minutes until she read the stickers on my lunch box and I was treated to a snarf as she must have been drinking her coffee when she read the lunch box stickers.

The doctor laughed outright. He knew exactly what had happened.

The woman turned to me and snapped, "You think that lunch box is funny?"

The doctor headed me off, "I gave him those stickers last Halloween," he told the old prune.

"Yes, but this is not the place to be..." she answered.

"Why not?" countered the doctor. "It's a free country and it's his lunch box. He can put anything on it he wants."

She wasn't mollified, but she wasn't going to argue with a doctor. She picked up her coffee and left.

The doctor turned to me.

"I love this country", he said, smiling at me.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Happy New Year.

2012-01-01T07:43:00.000-05:00

I see an exercise in frustration headed my way compliments of a Milwaulkee Sawzall.

Yesterday I needed a piece of pipe cut so I grabbed the Sawzall out of the box, plugged it in, lined it up and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

So I broke out a hacksaw and cut the pipe. Later I took the sawzall partly apart and wiggled a few things, looked and decided to take it to the shop. On a whim I plugged it back in again and it worked like a charm so I cancelled the idea of taking it to the shop.

Of course, this means I am most likely in for an exercise in futility when I need this tool next because it is now likely one of those things I am going to have to fiddle with when I want to use it. If I take the damned thing into the shop they are going to plug it in and it will work until I get it home and if I DON'T take it to the shop.

What I really ought to do is just throw the damned thing into the trash and cough up to buy another one but I am loathe to cough up $200 when the one I have now can be fixed. I suppose that as soon as the damned thing gets bad enough so I can take it to the shop and have it act up so the repairman will be able to fix it.

Until then I am going to wind up frustrated because there is little worse than an interruption during a job. An interruption just turns a job into an exercise in frustration because the entire rhythm of the job is ruined. It takes three or four times as long because when you return to it you have to get started asll over again.

Generally at sea I try and make sure there are no interruptions on a job so it can go from start to finish with no hitches. Of course it doesn't always work that way but I sure try. I do the same at home.

___________________________

Later around lunchtime I am putting on a clean set of coveralls and packing a lunch to eat at the local hospital coffee shop. It ought to make for an interesting post tomorrow as the Igloo Playmate cooler I use as a lunch box has stickers on either side that say, "Human Organs. Do Not Eat"

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

The mall wasn't too bad last night as

2011-12-31T06:45:00.000-05:00

there were not a boatload of people hanging out in the middle of the night.

It's been a while since I made a PRC-320 QSO while having the rig out so I decided to do a little hilltopping last night. The mall was built atop a hill and it's a pretty good spot to use to grab a late night QSO off of the little backpack rig.

I also had my little 2 meter hand-held with me.

I had just put the 320 on the deck of my pickup bed when I saw the headlights headed my way and knew it was a cop. He pulled up and asked me what I was doing and I told him. He looked a little suspicious, which is to be expected because he doesn't meet a guy late at night packing a military radio every day.

I was polite and pleasant and he asked me several questions and I explained to him why I was using this particular parking lot. He nodded and agreed that it was a pretty high spot. He also suggested that sometime I try the water tower in a nearby park and I explained to him that in addition to the park being closed after dark that a lot of dirty dealings take place after dark up by the water tower. He agreed with me on this one.

By now I had the rig set up and I clicked the power on and turned and tuned the antenna and started combing the 40 meter band for activity and almost instantly found someone out there. It was an insomniac in Virginia calling out 'CQ', calling any station. I turned to the cop and told him I was going to answer the guy and he nodded.

I had a pretty good signal from the guy and the cop seemed pretty impressed whan I told him I was yakking with Virginia. I grinned and held up the hand-held and told him I was going to try and hit the International Space Station with it and his brows raised. He asked me if that was legal. I assured him it was.

What I am doing with these police officers is not what a guy usually does. Most people lay low and try and fly under the radar. I'm simply going to go about my business. I want them to see me and get to know who I am and what I am doing out there. It makes for good public relations.

While I'm sure that over time I'll be referred to by the police in that town as 'the radio crackpot', that's fine by me. They'll simply keep an eye on me to make sure nothing happens to me and in return if I see anything suspicious I'll phone it in.

I'll be hilltopping there from time to time and it is probably a good idea NOT to hide, but to simply become a part of the woodwork because when the police get used to something like this they'll simply drive by and wave instead of interrupting me.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Amy Vanderbilt, Emily Post and I have decided to post a few things on etiquitte.

2011-12-30T08:22:00.000-05:00

1. You do not eat peas with a knife. You mix them into the mashed potatoes and eat them with a spoon.

2. You do not show anything but respect to an older person. To do so might be painful. If it is a very old man wearing WW2 ID of any kind it will become VERY, VERY painful. While it is against the law to simply shoot you, this will not end well for you. You will probably either die or if you survive you will go to prison. Pick one.

3. Politeness gets you places. The other day a young man explained to me he was shopping on his lunch hour so I let him in front of me in line. He was polite. He also had a job and was paying for his purchases out of his paycheck which is nice to see in a young man in this day and age. This leads to...

4. If you are paying for your purchases with government assistance of any type, please go to the end of the line. After all the rest of us are paying for your purchases for you and we have jobs to go to so we can continue to pay for your stuff. Respect that.

5. You are responsible for the conduct of your children. I will not hold the precious little darlings responsible in any way. I will simply tase YOU until YOUR hair stands up and then we will discuss what to do about the misbehaviour of your child.

6. If your children are well behaved I will ask you permission to treat them to a candy bar or something along these lines. They are your children and you know what they can and can not eat.

7. (PA drivers take note) When it is your turn to drive, drive. Do not waive your right of way. It is your turn, take it. Many of us have learned to drive somewhere else where everybody takes his turn as a matter of custom. Although you are trying to be polite, don't. It scares the hell out of the rest of us that learned to drive in Jersey.

8. When it is not your turn at an intersection do not barge out there. Wait your turn.

9. When a person shows kindness to someone else do not assume he is going to do the same thing for you. You may be in for a surprise when you try and take advantage of his kindness and he painfully shows you that although he is kind, he is not weak.

10. Contrary to what you may have heard, there ARE stupid questions. Don't ask them. If you do and you don't like the answer, remember you have only yourself to blame.

11. I'm having codfish and eggs for breakfast. So what? I don't need your comments. If you don't like it eat something else.
　
　　

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

But it's ugly.......

2011-12-29T08:56:00.000-05:00

I get a kick out of some people.

I wound up getting a nice Hard Dog roll bar for the Miata a while ago for a song. It came from a used car place and I got the story that went along with it. Some little chickiepoo was looking to buy a cute little Miata and the guy in the lot had just the cream puff for her.

When she saw it, there was the roll bar installed in it and she asked what it was for. The salesman told her that it could save her life in the event of a pollover.

"But it's ugly!" she said.

So the salesman had it yanked and I wound up with it for next to nothing.

While I wish no evil on anybody, I can't help wonder what would be going through her mind as she was sitting in the cockpit of the little car all busted up after rolling it down an embankment.

There are a lot of tradeoffs in life.

Back in the days before cable TV one few choices for TV reception. If you were fairly near the transmitter you could use a pair of rabbit ears and park the unit on top of the set.

If you didn't live so close you put up an outside antenna. They were aluminum things and you can still see quite a few of them atop houses because they were a hassle to put up and once up things like that are seldom removed.

I suppose they are ugly, too.

I wonder how many women looked at them and got all upset and asked their husbands if here wasn't something else they could do besides set up that big, ugly antenna. Probably quite a few.

Of course after it had been up for a brief period of time it just became another part of the woodwork.

Over the years I have only seen one guy gripe about how something useful was ugly.

I had this old pickup and the guy actually said I ought to get rid of it. I asked him why and he told me it was ugly.

I replied, "You're ugly, too, but you don't hear me talking about taking you to Smokey's dump!"

The truck lasted me a couple more years.

Anyway, life is a tradeoff. The old TV antennas taught me that. If you want good TV reception you have to look at an ugly antenna sometimes.

As I write now I am looking at a small ground-plane antenna for a 2 meter rig I am planning on calling the International Space Station with. I guess someone will tell me that it is ugly so I better get ready to tell someone off. Oh, well.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

I have cheated death again. I made it hoe.

2011-12-28T09:38:00.000-05:00

For the first 40 or 50 miles the drive home last night was a but iffy because of what seemed to be a large number of drivers that did not know what they were doing.

In the beginning of my odyessy traffic was heavy, to boot.

After a while things thinned out a bit and I began rolling down the highway and the rest of the ride home was uneventful.

Before I left I heard a pretty good story from one of the guys.

Apparently a hooker set up shop in the motel we generally stay in and she was trolling. She made a mistake by asking Milt if he 'wanted any company'. While Milt is generally considered to be nowhere as mischievious as I am, every blue moon he comes out with one out of nowhere.

He politely refused her offer and she told him that if he changed his mind she would be in room such and such.

A few minutes later Milt was in his car getting something and saw a Monopoly game in the floor of the back seat that belonged to his kids. He grabbed it and brought it into his room along with his basic travel kit.

He then called his shipmate and grabbed the Monopoly game and the pair of them headed up to the room occupied by the hooker. Both of these characters are from the Carolinas and can turn on the Gomer Pyle/naive country boy act pretty well when they want.

So the hooker answers the door and Milt in his naive country boy was said that it was a shame that such a pretty girl should have to spend the holidays alone and if she wanted company they would come in and play Monopoly with her.

I have to give those two credit because they played the innocent little country boy right down to the end and after the hooker finally spelled out her line of work to the pair.

They were all 'gosh-golly-gee-whiz, whoda ever thought?' about it as they shuffled off to head over to the diner to get something to eat.

I can picture those two. While Milt is seldom given to mischief, the other guy as great company. He's a First Class screwball. I can hear him in my head walking down the balcony saying to Milt, "My daddy warned me about women like that."

If it had been me, I would have steered pretty clear of the hooker. Although what Milt and Company did was pretty innocent fun, about half the hookers in Philly are not hookers. They are police vice stings and they have a bad reputation for simply hauling in people for nothing just to enhance revenue. The best policy in Philly is to simply say nothing at all to hookers and just keep moving.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Time to write the congressman

2011-12-27T00:02:00.002-05:00

The first thing I am going to do when I get home is write my congressman and find out why the United States Army is still painting the Red Cross on their dust-off choppers.

The Taliban forces simply use the red crosses as an aiming point and shoot at them with impunity because they know that they are unarmed. The Geneva Convention states that any vehicle bearing the Red Cross must be unarmed. All this is well and good except for the fact that the last time I checked the Taliban do not observe the Geneva Convention.

In order to be able for a dust-off to do their job it means that the Army has to field an Apache to escort it and that means the logistics required to send out two choppers has to take place.

The Air Force and Marine Corps do not play this silly little game, nor do the Brits. Their medevac choppers bear no such markings and are armed to the teeth. Generally the Taliban are more likely to leave these birds alone because they bite back, and they bite hard.

While the average dust-off crews are equipped with brass balls and would cheerfully land in the middle of the flames of hell to pluck out a wounded GI they are discouraged from landing in a hot LZ unless the Apaches are up overhead.

The helicopters flying dust-off flights should be armed so well that they gird our forces inside a doughnut of nice, sticky burning napalm about a half-mile wide so they can land to pick up our wounded with impunity.

Another thing the Army seems to forget is that putting a red cross on a chopper is much like waving a red flag in front of a bull. It is the symbol of the Infidels that tried to wrestle the Holy Land from them back in the 11 and 1200s. I would not be surprised if the good Afghanis were somewhat offended by this.

The delays caused by politics and the resulting delays like this does nothing more than costs GIs their lives.

Sending these dust-offs out into the middle of a fight unarmed emblazoned with a red cross is nothing less than criminal and as far as I am concerned, the officers that are keeping these policies going are guilty of manslaughter. At the very least they should be tried for conduct unbecoming an officer and cashiered out of the service.

Of course the guilty officers supporting marked unarmed medevac flights are going to give a bunch of mush-mouthed excuses about the political end of things and in my opinion that is no damned excuse whatsoever.

We’re talking about the lives of GIs and not the opinions of a bunch of old men sitting around in some safe haven creating enough hot air so that we will have to listen to Al Gore warn us about global warming all over again.

It is a disgrace that a 60 year old former GI should have to write about this simply because it should not be happening.

The troops deserve more.

Arm the dust-offs to the teeth and take that damned red cross off of them.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Being the oldest

2011-12-26T06:54:00.001-05:00

One of my shipmates is about my age and had a number of siblings that he had to share things with as a kid.

I am the oldest of an entire generation and had, in addition to four siblings had a busload of younger cousins to rain God knows what down on.

I got kidded a couple of years back about the time I took one of my cousins for a ride in my MGB. I was about 17 at the time and he was about 10 years younger. He asked me how fast we were going and instead of pointing to the speedometer, I pointed to the tachometer and told we were going 350 mph or something like that.

It was funny watching the wide eyed cousin tell my uncle that I had driven 350 miles per hour. My uncle suppressed a smirk and said, “Three hundred and fifty, huh? That’s pretty fast!”

My cousin then ran around to all of the other cousins bragging that Cousin Pic had driven him around the block at 350 mph.

My shipmate recalled the time he was watching ‘Lassie’ with his sisters and of course Lassie was in hot water. His weepy-eyed sisters were sobbing that some cougar was getting ready to eat Lassie when he came to the rescue.

“Next week they’re going to show how Timmy trains the mountain lion that ate Lassie,” he explained, in a particularly evil tone. Of course the girls burst into tears.

I remember telling my kid brother the day before he started first grade that if he didn’t behave himself that he’d get beaten by two big guys in the office. I think I was going into third grade at the time.

He got scared and went to my father and asked him and Dad set him straight and found me and whacked me for doing that.

He then gave me a lecture on how I should encourage my brother and so on.

A minute after my dad left my brother happened by. It took more than a whack to make me contrite.

“It’s really three guys that beat you,” I whispered. “Dad just doesn’t want you to be scared until you get there.”

He was pretty shaky the first couple of days at school but he survived.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Looks like Santa got through all right

2011-12-25T09:03:00.002-05:00

Well, Santa made it OK from what I gathered.

The Air Force probably gave him an air-to-air refueling of milk and cookies over both the Atlantic and Pacific crossings and he managed to avoid a couple of surface-to-air missiles fired at him from Tehran by the idiots there using the time honored trick of using tinsel as chaff.

I guess the Air Force gave him an escort through some of the rougher zones and it would not surprise me to hear that the troops in Afghanistan were standing by in case he was forced down there.

One of the neat things the Air Force does is that every year NORAD tracks Santa and fields calls from kids. It’s also a pretty good deal for the taxpayer because it doesn’t cost us anything. One of the phone companies sets up the phone network as a donation and all of the phone answerers are off duty volunteers.

I’d like to see how that works because I’d just bet that for the day the Airmen do this little labor of love that rank just disappears. It very well may be one of those little things that happens in the military every blue moon where you see a young airman teaching a couple of colonels and majors the ropes because he did it last year.

I’ve seen things like this happen at Camp Perry where you have an Army brigadier general in the pits pulling targets for a Marine corporal and another time I saw a Sp/4 look at a major and say, “Nyeah, nyeah, Sir.”

The major blushed a bit at having been beaten by the Sp/4 but you could see that there was something between the two that transcended the difference in their ranks.

There is a lot of good natured kidding that goes on at an event like that and it actually serves a pretty good purpose because an awful lot of officers and enlisted get to see each other as human beings. For that reason alone the program should keep going on.

I have heard a couple of pretty good stories come from the event and they made me grin.

One Airdale told a little kid that Santa had passed him but would turn around and get to his house if he went straight to bed. He was treated to hearing a phone receiver hit the floor followed by a few little thumps that sounded an awful lot like little feet. A second later he was treated to a father picking up the phone and asking the Airdale what he had told his son.

“I’ve been trying to get him into bed for over an hour,” replied the amazed father.

Besides the camaraderie that takes place at this event it should be noted that the world has gotten to be a pretty dangerous place. I suppose Santa can use all the help he can get these days. I know if I was some kind of communist off-brand type that thought of going after Santa I would think twice knowing the Air Force is guarding him.

Thanks, guys.

==========================

This is my third Christmas at sea over the past four years and because I am out here some father can be at home with his kid which really is where fathers belong.

I actually volunteered to work over a few days for my relief because his son is home on leave but I guess he’s coming back to work on schedule because of scheduling and crew change transportation reasons. It’s a shame but that’s life at sea.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Wanna buy a watch?

2011-12-24T06:07:00.002-05:00

Back when I was living in Alaska I had a cohort living in Seattle and to make a few bucks in the winter I would get some pretty good produce flown in every so often and peddle it out of the trunk of the cab I was driving at the time.

It wasn’t illegal and even the police bought a few things here and there.

A few months later when the weather broke and things were looking pretty good the world caved in on me and I was back in the cab. My friend in Seattle sent me a HUGE supply of inexpensive digital watches and told me to move them.

He got them pretty cheap and I could make a pretty good profit selling them for about five bucks a pop out of the cab.

On one of my days off I noticed there were supposed to be about three or four cruise ships in and I decided to see what I could do with an All-American cliché from more Hollywood movies than I can recall.

The watch salesman.

I got myself a fedora and long coat from the Goodwill store and a couple of packages of drapery hooks from the hardware store and installed the hooks inside the jacket and hooked the watches onto them.

About the time the cruise ship docked I parked myself downtown at a heavily traveled street corner and used the oldest hokey Hollywood line in the world.

As someone would pass by I would whip open the coat and ask, “Wanna buy a watch?”

The watches sold like hotcakes and when I ran out of them after a few hours my take was about $400 if my memory still serves me.

I was surprised until I thought about it a while. I wondered why a person wearing a Rolex or Seiko watch would cough up twenty scoots for a dollar store watch until it hit me.

They were not buying the watch; they were buying the story that went along with it. They only bought to watch as proof that they really did meet a character with a long coat with a bunch of hooks in it selling watches.

If you are over 70 right now and bought a watch from a guy wearing a long coat full of hooks on the inside with a bunch of watches hanging from the hooks, that was me.

I’m still alive and doing well and I’m glad I helped make your vacation a little more memorable.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

It's Festivus!

2011-12-23T06:58:00.000-05:00

And the aluminum pole is up and I am wearing my yarmulke and having breakfast.

Happy Festivus to everyone!

This holiday scratches my itch.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

On a whim yesterday I called the guys that sold me

2011-12-22T00:05:00.003-05:00

the Combat Laptop and explained what happened. I was promptly floored. They told me to send it back to them and they would replace the hard drive for little more than the cost of shipping.

That ain’t a bad deal in this day and age and as soon as I can get ashore I’m going to stuff it into a box and shoot it off to them. There are not really a whole lot of people out there that would do that for an old surplus rig like that.

I attribute their willingness to do this for me to the fact that I dealt with them with no indignation or anger and because I had reasonable expectations.

First of all, I bought the rig pretty much with no guarantee other than it would not be dead on arrival and therefore had no leg to stand on. I didn’t call them up a-spittin’ and a fumin’ and ranting and raving. I simply called them up and told them what happened and asked them if they happened to have another hard drive for the rig in stock.

I also told them that I was not holding them responsible because I knew it was a surplus rig to begin with.

I simply wanted to buy the necessary parts and information necessary to repair the little rig.

Then on a whim I asked him how much he wanted to repair it and he quoted me a price that was little more than the cost of shipping. You can’t beat that.

I’d have to buy the parts AND snag an operating system disc to get this going and then download a slew of drivers and on and on. It would probably take me a day if I was lucky.

Of course, he has all of the tools so he can do the job in a few minutes.

Needless to say I have not even sent the combat laptop in yet so I really do not know how this is going to work out but as of now it looks like the old warrior is going to be back on line soon.

I’ll keep you guys posted on how this works out and after it is all said and done with I’ll write a little review on how this worked out.

If it works out you can bet that I will name the company and recommend them highly as good people to do business with.

It is the least I can do if they treat me as well as I think they will.

I’ll keep you posted.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Several years ago I bought an AR-15 rifle set up in a National Match Service rifle. When I first got the rifle it shot dime-sized groups at 100 yards but after a little more than 1000 rounds the groups opened up. I also noticed that the float tube was not concentric with the barrel as it was when it was new.

I had expected to get between 3500 and 5000 rounds before the groups started to open up which is about the norm for the type of barrel I had purchased.

I also noticed that the float tube was well out of concentricity.

Now I was aware of the fact that many rifles are sent back to the factory simply because the owner can’t shoot straight so I handed it off to a Master class shooter who confirmed that the rifle was not up to snuff.

I sent the company a letter along with the rifle telling them that I was having problems with it and shortly after got a phone call from the company problem solver.

I confessed that I had altered the trigger and had shot little but handloads out of the rifle. Both of these voided the guarantee of course, but he didn’t try and pull the cheap shot and bail out of his responsibilities based on that because neither of those had anything to do with a faulty float tube or a shot-out prematurely barrel.

I was forthright and honest and he decided to look into my problem because it seemed legitimate.

I had also done MY homework in that I had gotten a box of Black Hills Match ammunition, which is an industry standard of sorts and handed the rifle off to a Master to shoot to back my claims up.

I also didn’t have unrealistic expectations from a commercially made rifle, either. I did not expect it to shoot as well as a hand-fitted custom rifle because it wasn’t. It was a factory made job and when I got it back everything was up to snuff.

In fact it was more than I had bargained for as they had taken the liberty to install many of the new modifications that came with hand fitted custom rifles along with a letter explaining that they had since improved their products.

The rifle shot as well as many custom jobs and stayed in tune until the barrel wore out after about 5000 rounds.

I attribute this to making it easy for them, being pleasant and simply not being an indignant jerk and expecting too much.

It is surprising what you can get by simply being patient with people and giving them the opportunity to do the right thing.

While there is certainly no shortage of jerks out there who would rather cheat someone out of a quarter than make an honest dollar, there are a lot more people out there that are willing to bust their ass to do the right thing if you approach them decently.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

The Combat Laptop is down

2011-12-21T07:07:00.000-05:00

I face the keyboard every single day I can and am glad to do it but now I foresee a problem coming up because I think the hard drive in the combat laptop just crashed and I am right now writing this on a borrowed machine until I can get ashore to get things squared away.

For the next couple of weeks I am going to have to play catch as catch can and see what I can do.

I have a very old laptop that I can cobble together when I get home and if it will work I’ll be in a more relaxed position because I’ll be able to keep on keeping on while I figure out what to do to replace the venerable old warrior.

One of the things I have noticed about technology is that it really is pretty throwaway. Cell phones last only about 16 or 18 months before they get replaced. Mine is coming on either two or three years now and I am mildly surprised it has lasted this long.

I have been getting about a year or so out of laptops that I drag around the boat which, while it makes the tool a throwaway I suppose it isn’t all that awful bad considering the beating they take out here. God knows they take a pretty good beating with all of the vibration that happens on a tank vessel, or a tug for that matter.

I suppose part of the problem lies in the fact that I have been using surplus/MilSpec stuff for years but as I have posted before MilSpec stuff is pretty good stuff as a general rule.

I do what I can to snag gently used MilSpec gear but you take what you can get. I know the DoD requires either a wipe or a destruction of all hard drives which makes a lot of sense. I would imagine that the hard drive for my now dead unit was yanked and I believe the company I bought it from said they replaced it but I wonder what they replaced it with.

I would imagine the hard drive they put in it in lieu of the original was whatever they could dig up somewhere. After all, I’d bet the original cost a pretty penny.

All in all it is aggravating but when you consider that buying a MilSpec laptop brand new from the original government contractor is pretty damned steep, as in thousands. This boots it out of range of the working stiff.
I now have a new inexpensive little netbook coming and I’m going to stuff a briefcase with foam rubber and make a rubber pad to rest it on and see how that will work out.

Anyway, I’ll be doing what I can to keep this blog rolling on a daily basis.

Wish me luck.

If there are any Itronix GoBook 3 tech types out there that know how to replace a hard drive, please give me a shout!

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Festivus is coming

2011-12-20T08:27:00.001-05:00

Festivus is coming up in a few days and I am ready for it.

Last year a day or so after Festivus I knew I would be at sea again for the holiday which I had mistakenly attributed to a Jewish guy who had made the holiday up.

I decided to log it as a Jewish holiday and decided that a yarmulke would be the appropriate headwear for the holiday so I went on a website I am a member of and asked if anyone knew where I could buy a yarmulke, preferably one with ‘Happy Festivus’ embroidered on it.

The thread almost turned into a train wreck as a number of gentiles came charging in telling me I was being offensive to the Jewish members, but I had done my homework. I knew in advance that not a whole lot of Jews were likely to take offense.

Instead I was asked by a number of Jews for my mailing address and when I got home there were several yarmulkes in my mailbox, including one that had been embroidered with ‘Happy Festivus’. In a few days I will wear that one with pride.

A few minutes before I sat down to write this I Googled the holiday up and was surprised to find out that the actual originator of the holiday is a man named Dan O’Keefe which sounds pretty Irish to me.

I suppose that means I ought to wear a tam or something else, but I do not think I will, or at least this year. I think I will stick to the yarmulke. Maybe I will wear a tam next year. I’ll think about it.

A few years back one of my nieces asked me what it meant to be Jewish and I told her it was kind of like being Irish but they Jews do a better job of corned beef. My sister started to open her mouth to answer, but stopped and furrowed her brows for a second.

“You’re right,” she said. “They do a better job on corned beef.”

I have known this for decades and generally celebrate St. Patrick’s Day by getting my corned beef and cabbage at a Jewish deli somewhere in the form of a corned beef on rye and a side of slaw.

I hate that boiled corned beef and cabbage Ma used to make every March 17th and after I left the house every St. Pat’s Day she would ask me if I had gotten my corned beef and cabbage.

One year a Jewish fish buyer overheard me on the phone telling my mom that I had gotten my corned beef and cabbage and chided me for telling my mother a fib. He treated the crew of the boat I was on to corned beef sandwiches and slaw. A new St. Patty’s Day custom was born.

When we thanked him, he laughed. “Anything to keep you Irish bums from lying to your mothers,” he said.

There are a couple of yarmulkes at home that are basic black and maybe what I’ll do in the future is to put a shamrock on one and wear it on St. Patrick’s day in honor of the Jews that have kept me from lying to my mother all of these years.

This really isn’t too good of a time for me and I generally do not do well over the holidays but for some reason I look forward to Festivus. I have written this post to thank a few people.

First I’d like to thank a certain someone that snagged me a nice piece of aluminum pipe that we use as a Festivus pole.

Then I’d like to thank a couple of Jews that have a pretty good sense of humor and sent me a few yarmulkes, especially the guy that sent me the one with ‘Happy Festivus’ embroidered on it.

Thanks, guys for brightening up my holidays.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Generally all you have to do is ask.

2011-12-19T07:23:00.000-05:00

Generally all you have to do is ask.

I was buying a telegraph key on eBay the other day and some or another kind of gremlin hopped in and caused a doubletap on the 'buy it now' button. I found out that I had bought two of them in error. I promptly paid for the first one.

I then immediately got in touch with the seller and simply explained what happened and he cancelled the second transaction. I didn't try any funny business, nor get upset or threaten to drag eBay into it, I simply fessed up to my mistake, explained what happened and asked him to fix it.

I suppose he looked at the pair of transactions and saw what happened, shrugged and cancelled the second transaction. OK, a customer made a simple mistake. Quick fix.

There was no drama, no ruffled feathers, no nothing. The guy at the other end sat down at his keyboard for a minute and fixed my mistake.

Most people you deal with are not fools. They want you to be a satisfied customer and to be happy because if you are you will continue to do business with them.

It seems to me that most of the drama in this world is generally made by people that do not have anything worthwhile to do but create problems for themselves. Instead of simply explaining that there was an error an awful lot of people simply refuse to fess up and admit their mistake and wind up in the middle of some sort of spitting match where nobody wins.

My telegraph key has been shipped and if it is even a halfway decent key than this guy is going to get some serious good feedback. If it is a serious piece of junk I will probably note it, but I will make a very pointed note that this guy is a decent guy to work with. Fair is fair.

Of course, I could have wound up getting stuck coughing up for two keys if the seller wanted to be stubborn and greedy about it but most serious sellers have found out over the years that it is best to make an effort to keep the customer happy. For one thing, it is simply good business.

Over the years, just like everyone else, I have run into my fair share of jerks that want to play hardball over some dopey nickel-dime thing. If it is a cheap enough deal I pay the bill and simply consider it to be a tip-off that the person is a jerk and sooner or later they get what is coming to them. Word gets out and they seem not to stay in business for very long.

A business deal is a two way street and you have to take some initiative, too and if something isn't right you have to make sure the other person knows what is going on.

I'd bet this seller is one of those guys that wants to stay in business for a while because he appeared interested in keeping his customers happy.

My item has been shipped and I am expecting a reasonably good quality for a reasonable price and it's a pretty good bet I'll get what I expect.

As for the seller?

I see a couple more odds and ends I will probably be able to use.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

I could find a parking space at the Super Bowl

2011-12-18T06:34:00.002-05:00

I have pretty poor luck with getting around because I always seem to take a route that has had something wrong happen to is just before I leave home. I swear that I can have to make six detours just to get to the nearby 7-Eleven about a half mile away.

What seems to more than make up for it is my insane abilty to find parking spaces right where it is easiest for me to park. Black Friday? No problem. I'll find a spot forty feet from the door.

I swear I could pull up to the Super Bowl ten minutes before game time and someone would be pulling out of a the spot closest to the entrance I was planning on entering the game and I'd just park it and hop out and walk right in.

Then again I would have to leave long before the game, though because I'd have a hash of construction and accidents delaying me all the way there.

I guess it all comes out in the wash.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Stop whining about the holidays if you are not religious.

2011-12-17T06:23:00.000-05:00

I have never had a Jew, Muslim or Hindu admonish me for wishing them a Merry Christmas and have yet to have had one bellyache to me over a nativity scene. Not one.

I have has people of other faiths wish me good tidings on their holidays and I take no offense whatsoever. In fact I am flattered that they want to share their holidays with me.

I do not say 'Happy Holidays' or whatever politically correct comes down the pike and I refuse to cop to the Gods of Political Correctness'. I say, "Merry Christmas". If you do not like that, please remember that Christmas is the time the mistletoe comes out and feel free to use mine. I keep it clipped to my shirt tail.

However I get pretty upset when someone comes along and tries to desecrate a religious holiday. Any religious holiday.

About thirty-five years ago I put on a uniform to defend the rights of everyone to practice whatever religion they want to if they want to. I have believed then and believe now in freedom OF religion and not freedom FROM religion.

If you do not have a religion, that's fine, too. Simply have the common decency to allow the rest of us to practice ours. Nobody is forcing anything whatsoever on you. You have the right to be what you want. It is part of the reason I put a uniform on all those years ago.

One of the things that seaman practice is tolorance because the world on board is a small one. We all have to work together and we all need each other. This is a big part of why I prefer to spend Christmas at sea. I spend it with men that respect one another enough to simply be big enough to share the holidays with one another with little care if the holiday they celebrate is the one they grew up with.

Generally speaking at sea, Christmas is celebrated with a big dinner and maybe a few little things because for the most part, most vessels are crewed with a majority of Christians. However, generally if there is a Jew on board the guys will wish him a Happy Hanukkah and mean it from the heart. The rare Muslim is given respect, too, as would anyone else.

One of the things I notice that is rapidly going downhill fast in this country is a basic lack of respect for the other person'e beliefs. Years ago trying to sour someone's holiday generally resulted in a pretty smack upside the head. It wasn't brutality, it was simply education and the person that received such a lesson generally manned up and took it. If he had half of a brain he learned and didn't do it again.

To those non-believers, I put the uniform on so you could continue to be non-believers. I will treat you with the same courtesy and respect you treat others with.

To those whiners out there, simply stop whining, no matter what you believe in.

Merry Christmas.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

A fifty year old guy learns to read

2011-12-16T07:35:00.002-05:00

While I have seen a lot of interesting things in this business and one of the all-time coolest things I have ever seen here is the time a guy decided to learn how to read.

Seriously.

This goes back about twenty years ago and I look back on this and smile when I think about it which is fairly often because it makes me feel pretty good even though I didn't see it firsthand. I had met the main character a couple of times, though. He was quite an interesting person. I am going to change a few names here to protect people's privacy. Some of the guys are still out here and decency requires this.

The man had a 1600 ton license and knew his job and knew it well, but he could not read.

What? He couldn't read?

Nope, he couldn't read. He could sign his name, but the written word made no sense to him. He was, however, highly skilled. He knew men and he knew boats and could nestle a 500 foot long barge up against a pier in 30 not winds and a foul tide so gently that you could put an egg between the dock and barge and he wouldn't crack it.

The guys covered for him over the years by taking care of the paperwork for him and he managed to take his Coast Guard tests orally as there used to be a provision for that. There may still be a provision for this but I'm not sure, but still, he was licensed.

Before I ge a whole lot further you have to stop and think a minute about a guy that can not read and write, yet had a nice home, a good, responsible job, and a wife and kids. The man must be awfully intelligent to be able to pull such an act off.

He also must have had quite a sense of frustration, too because it finally got to him and he decided to do something about it. One day when they changed crews somewhere he was headed off with the deckhand and the chief engineer and stopped at a liquor store and bought a couple bottle of some pretty good hooch and handed a bottle to each of the two guys.

"Next trip you guys are going to teach me to read," he announced.

Now we are talking about a pair of tugboat guys here with no teaching credentials and probably a couple of basic issue high school diplomas on a tugboat that was generally out in BFE most of the time. There were no video teaching aids or whatever they use these days to teach kids to read, just a couple of guys with whatever they had to work with and an eager student.

The three of them went at it and the guys taught their skipper his ABCs and how the different letters represented different sounds. It didn't take long. By the end of the three week tour he had enough background so that he could look at written words and figure a lot of them out.

The chief had also heard of a new program that was out called 'Hooked on Phonics' and managed to bring the program back to the boat for the next tour and things really took off. It wasn't long before the skipper was running around with a headset on and whatever apparatus that he needed and was buried himself completely into the program.

In a few months the skipper was reading on a college level and from then on you could find him during his off watch time with his nose stuffed into a book somewhere.

This was before the boats had computers installed so I would imagine they were using cassette tapes but I might be wrong. Like I said, I was not there to witness this self-made miracle.

It didn't take long and pretty soon the skipper emerged from the darkness of illiteracy and into the world of the literate. He eventually got his GED and the last I heard is that he was taking courses at his local community college. I guess he worked something out with them to permit him to take the classes around his schedule and make up what he missed. I don't know how it worked, but apparently he managed something.

Dragging a man out of illiteracy didn't take the services of a college educated teacher, nor did it require all sorts of high tech costly equipment and a huge building and a multi-million dollar budget, it just took a couple of guys with high school diplomas and a willing student. The tools they worked with were what they had kicking around the boat.

My guess is that his primer was not something designed by some hifalutin' educator. It was most likely an old dog eared Louis L'Amour western someone found under a bunk somewhere.

While I am not against education in any way, when you see something like this happen your mind thinks of quite a number of different things. You question the schools that keep justifying huge expenditures that cost us millions yet do not seem to make things a whole lot better for our kids.

You question the requirements laid out for teaching credentials and start to think about the degrees and huge salaries we pay for. In my case I look back at some of the best teachers I ever had, army NCOs. some of which probably had pretty dubious formal educations.

But the biggest thing I seem to think about is the joke about how the Dalai Lama changes a light bulb.

He doesn't. All change comes from within. The light bulb has to want to change itself.
+++++++++
Aftermath.

Some years later I was in a supermarket and some hippie chick saw me looking at a tabloid. I was looking at an ad for 'hooked on phonics' and smiling as I recalled hearing of that skipper learning to read. The hippie looked at me and interrupted my warm thoughts by telling me in an incredulous tone that Rush Limbaugh shilled for the program. Her tone of voice made it clear that she couldn't fathom why Rush would shill for such a program.

I looked at her and told her that Rush was a believer in self help and keeping the government out of as much as possible and that the Hooked on Phonics program was about as much self-help as you could get. Then I briefly told her about the guy I knew that used it to teach himself to read.

When I told her about the way the Dalai Lama changed a light bulb she blushed.

While I don't think she went straight home and unbraided her armpits, shaved her legs and traded here sandals for a pair of stilettos I do think she stopped and thought a minute. That in itself says at least something.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Strippers, Klansmen and do gooders seem to attract to me

2011-12-15T06:41:00.000-05:00

I do not know why it is but I seem to be a magnet for certain types.

While hookers generally give me a pretty wide berth, strippers tend to draw to me. There is a convenience store I hit every so often next to a strip joint and if there is a stripper in it either going to or leaving the club she will approach me for something nine times out of ten. I do not know why this is, but it happens.

It really isn't all that complimentary, either as strippers are generally not that attractive or bright even though Hollywood portrays them as such. So I really can't say I'm bragging.

I am not really the strip club type. I find them depressing places, probably because I worked in one about thirty years ago. The last time I was in one was a few years back when I got a call from someone to help him scrape a couple of people up. When I got the call to help him out I cringed.

Sure enough, during the ten or fifteen minutes I was in the club it seemed that every one of the strippers approached me for something or another. I must have something tattooed on my face or something. Who knows?

I sure the hell can't seem to figure it out.

The next group that seems to approach me and try and take me under their wing are either the racists or anti-semites. God knows why as I am a very hard nosed straight down the line non-racist person you can imagine.

Still the Klansmen seem to come out of the woodwork and try and take me aside and drag me into thair brotherhood. The next step is generally when they find out I ain't gonna cop to that crap and they instantly turn on me. When they do that they generally assume I am some sort of a weakling and start in on me.

They generally find out otherwise. A while ago I had one try and take me under his wing and when I set him straight he turned on me with thinly veiled threats which I quickly quashed by simply asking him which lung he wanted me to install a nice, painful sucking chest wound into. That got his attention. I Then I gave him my name and address and begged him to show up at my door. I pleaded with him until he got a bit freaked out and left.

Anti-Semites seem to pop up every so often, but these are pretty much the easiest ones to get rid of. I simply show them my JPFO card and it scares the hell out of them. There is nothing that scares the hell out of an anti-semitic bigot worse than an armed, well trained Jew. While the bigot is a bigot and by definition he is stupid, most of them are not stupid enough to know about the Israeli commandos.

I generally don't whip the JPFO card out until after I've played with him a bit first, though. I hear him out and listen to his grand conspiracy theories, generally they end with 'the Jews stealing all the gold' and sometimes I play along if the guy is gullible and add a few details.

My favorite was the time I convinced one guy that the Jewish conspiracy was responsible for sinking Titanic. "Plotted by a Rosenberg, financed by a Goldberg and sunk by an Iceberg," I told him.

The best part was that he believed it. I later heard he added that to his anti semitic crap and started telling other people and making a fool out of himself.

While I draw more than my fair share of strippers and bigots, the biggest pains in the ass are the do-gooders that I seem to draw like a magnet.

These are the ones that Treat me like a small child that can't take care of himself and these are really more aggravating that the strippers and bigots put together. I hate being treated like a small child and these are the ones that think they're so much better than anyone else.

They are really the easiest of the others to leave stuttering, though because if you know how to count you can generally boggle their mind. Do gooders are generally of the mind that it's OK for them to spend someone else's money. WHen reminded of this they generally go a little slack-jawed.

On course when one approaches me with a right idea I generally extol all of the wonderful virtues of their creative and innovative idea and then ask them how they intend to finance this wonderful idea. It generally leaves them stuttering.

While I find the strippers mildly amusing, the bigots to be mildly annoying, embarrassing the Do-gooders seems to give me the most satisfaction.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

COld weather is here and all it means to me is aching bones and more work

2011-12-14T05:50:00.002-05:00

And that is all I have to say about that.

This is when I wish I lived somewhere warm.

That's it for today because I am running around today.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

SOme people shouldn't be allowed to use a can opener

2011-12-13T06:30:00.002-05:00

One of the things I see in the power tool world is that they are constantly adding things to make things safer for the user.

I figure that a lot of this is to make them a little less scarier to the guy that really isn't a tool guy and to decrease the liklihood of the user getting hurt.

HAH! Fat chance!

The first rule if making something fool proof is to not even bother wasting your time. Fools are the smartest people in te world and they will out think the safety people and find a way to hurt themselves every single time.

Of course, they will blame the tool company. Legal action is sure to ensue.

The truth of the matter is that people have to learn their own limitations. There simply are a lot of peolle out there that shouldn't be allowed within rifle shot of a Handy Andy child's tool box and that is simply the way it is.

I'm pretty handy with tools but I pretty much know my limitations and know that care must be used at all times and that a single second of inattention can bite me pretty hard. I also know that there are tools I should simply stay away from. The radial arm saw is one of these. I do not own one, although I have.

I got rid of it years ago because my instincts told me that it was just a matter of time before it bit me.

On very, very rare occasions I wind up having to use one and I am very careful when I do. For me it is one of those tools that I simply do not like so I stay away from it.

This is probably pretty odd as I use quite a number of tools that some people consider a lot more dangerous than that.

I have built a number of houses over the years and there are not a whole lot of tools I can not use. One time at a shipyard a machinist let me turn a piece of scrap steel into a pretty good Fourth of July cannon that I used to use until recently. The neighborhood has changed a bit so I only break it out on the Fourth, but I digress.

When I asked to use the lathe I had the machinist give me a crash course and I took my time and when I had a question, I simply turned the machine off and got my answer before I resumed. I guess I did OK because I have a pretty good cannon and I didn't break anything so we can say I did OK.

The lathe was pretty intimidating because it was big enough to be able to sell rides on at an amusement park.

Anyway, back to the tool companies that are marketing tools designed to be used by people that imply should not be using them. They do this by installing safety devices that keep the user from getting hurt and in the process makes the tool a lot more unusable.

Right now an awful lot of chain saw sellers put a tip guard on the saw that precludes using the tool to make plunge cuts with. Mine had one and I yanked it off there the minute I got it home. I know how to make plunge cuts safely.

I look at things a little differently. I would rather they make tools the old fashioned way that did the job more efficiently and did away with the Joe Homeowner safety gizmos and made Joe a little more responsible for his actions.

Then again, the courts and legal eagles have seen to it that the companies are forced to make things inefficient because Joe Homeowner is a crybaby and doesn't seem to think it is his responsibility to think before he uses something. He thinks it is the responsibility of the toolmaker to make it safe for him to use.

Perhaps it is because of the way I think that I keep getting booted off of jury duty because I am not willing to cop to the mentality that product makers are responsible for making foolproof tools. Making a foolproof anything is an impossible task because sometimes fools can be the most ingenious people in the world. Out there somewhere waiting to strike is someone that can find a way to screw up a P-38 can opener.

In fact, I am somewhat surprised that there isn't a civillian version of the P-38 can opener out there that has a guard of some kind attached to it.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Another tale of shopping for a boat

2011-12-12T06:51:00.001-05:00

A couple of people the other day commented on my post about rude people I met while shopping for the boat. There is also another side to this.

Most people do not shop for two or three weeks at a time, as they simply have the ability to run down to the nearest store when they feel like it. The crew of a work boat doesn't really have that option because it is quite a chore to strap a couple of canoes to your feet and walk down the coast to the nearest 7-Eleven.

When someone shops for a boat they generally have one opportunity to get every single thing they will need for the entire tour unless they luck out and get tied up somewhere near a store of some sort. While this happens from time to time, it is something that can not be relied on.

Every little thing has to be remembered and one oversight can spin the entire boat and crew into chaos. Picture seven men on a boat with no bathroom tissue and a marine sanitation device that can not break down paper towels. I've seen it happen once, it ain't pretty. (Looking back on it, it really does make for a pretty good sea story)

Anyway, most landsmen do not have a clue and it generally draws a lot of attention when people see one or two guys with several carts stuffed chock-a-block in a supermarket. More ofthen than not it either draws comments or questions.

Most men that ask about why so much grub generally ask if it is for a logging camp or a construction site. When I tell them it is for a work boat, they generally nod and understand. They might ask how long we plan on being out for. When I tell them they generally nod and either shuffle off or maybe they'll make a fairly pertinant comment about how how keeping a crew well fed is a herculean task.

Although there are a few men here and there that don't seem to get it, the majority of the dumber questions come from women as many of them do not seem to understand thing like this unless you spell it out.

Of course, this is a golden opportunity to have a little fun.

The most frequent comment I get from women is, "My goodness! You must have a large family!"

Rather then explain things I often decide to have a little fun.

"Yes, Ma'am. I have seventeen children. I come here every week."

"Seventeen!? How did you have seventeen chilldren!?" is the general reply.

"Didn't your mother ever have a talk with you and tell you where babies come from?" I reply.

They sometimes turn beet red and run off like the devil himself is after her to impregnate them, but not always. One peppery old woman looked at me and snapped, "Yes, I know where babies come from, but seventeen of them is insane! Your poor wife! You know, it's OK to do it for fun every once in a while!"

I'll admit, I laughed. I like people like her. She was a fiesty old broad.

Then I quietly explained to her that I was shopping for a boat and told her that telling women I had a big family saved me a lot of lengthy explainations. She gave me a thoughtful look. "You're probably right," she laughed. "It saves you a lot of time."

Sometimes if I am in the mood I'll play with some of these people a little bit. Some of the women will ask me questions about what it is like to raise 17 children. "After the first ten or twelve or so, you get used to it. After I get the groceries loaded I have to go to the school and defend my sixteen year old 110 pound daughter."

A comment like this is bait. Generally a nosy woman will take it.

"Why? What did she do?"

"She just beat the captain of the football team senseless for putting Ben-Gay in her kid brother's jock strap. I guess he's in the hospital now and is going to miss a few games. Oh, well. My kids stick together pretty much, and that little girl of mine can take real good care of herself. This isn't the first time she's gotten me dragged into the principal's office, and I'm pretty sure it won't be the last."

"What's going to happen to her?" They will inevitably ask in a shocked voice.

"Probably nothing. She warned football player after the first two times he picked on her kid brother. The schools don't police the football team like they should and let them get away with murder," I explained. "I'll just go in and tell them if they don't police the football team they can expect another lawsuit. After I cleaned up pretty good on the last one, they pay attention. Besides, there isn't a football player on the planet that would go to court and have to admit that he got his jaw broken in three places by a little hundred pound girl in a leotard and ballet slippers. I won't have any problems."

Another woman that took the bait once asked me indignantly where a little girl learned to fight like that.

"She took a couple years of ballet," I replied.

"Ballet?" the woman looked confused.

"Yeah, four, five years of ballet and about four or five months of martial arts. You'd be surprised at how easy it is for a tiny little ballerina to kick a big man in the jaw." I replied. "That's generally what Sissy does when she gets her dander up. She's really a dainty little feminine thing but when someone picks on one of her siblings all bets are off. She's really quite maternal with the way she looks after the younger kids. She's going to be a wonderful mother when she meets Mr. Right, assuming she doesn't beat him up too bad until after they tie the knot."

Sometimes they ask me about my wife.

"Oh, Christy? She's SUCH a sweet young thing! I met her when I was about 35 and giving driving lessons. The first time I saw her I knew she was the girl for me! The day she turned sixteen we eloped to Tennessee and got married by a Justice of the Peace and we've been making beautiful babies ever since! Hey, she's pregnant again! We're gonna have number eighteen!

That's a pretty good shocker. Most guys that happen to hear this watch the look of shock on the woman's face and do their damnedest not to bust out laughing and ruin it for me. For some reason guys know what I am doing, although one guy that overheard actually believed what he heard, interrupted me and called me a few choice names.

"You're just jealous," I shot back. "Because my little Christy still looks hot and your wife has gotten old and hasn't given you any in the past ten years and I'm gettin' it every night!"

I thought the guy was going to turn purple on me. My shipmate, standing several feet away and looking like he didn't know me had to run down a grocery aisle to keep from busting up and ruining everything. That one went through the fleet when we got back to the boat.

Another question is how I afford so many children.

Answers here generally range between criminal and sheer luck. I told one woman I had won the lottery early on, another one I remember telling I had won a huge lawsuit. Shortly after the financial balloon burst a few years back, I told another woman I had made a killing making sub-prime bank loans to people to buy homes.

The latter got her pretty upset and she chewed me out for being irresponsible in lending money and responsible for Fanny Mae going down. I shrugged. "A man with seventeen kids has to do something," I muttered."What do you want me to do? Rob a bank? How about the bank YOU keep YOUR money in?"

My favorite of all time is when I told a woman I smuggled back a bunch of gold and antiquities back from Kuwait after Desert Storm and as soon as I heard Clinton was putting 100,000 more cops on the street I invested the money I made selling the antiquities to private collectors into doughnut futures which quadrupled overnight. The best part is she actually believed me. (Apologies to good police officers here.)

I have to admit that shipmates enjoy going shopping with me. They tell me I turn a miserable task into a lot of fun. Why not? It's a whole lot better to be happy and have fun when you have to do a miserable job like shopping for a boat.
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I ought to take a Craigslist ad out. Picture this.

Wanted: Woman, mid-thirties to go shopping with me. Every month I shop for a tugboat crew of seven and people keep asking me if I have a large family. I generally tell the nosy people that ask me why I am buying so much food that I have seventeen children.

Your job would be to play along as my wife and talk about 'our children' to get the neb$hits off of my back.

Must be able to walk in cold weather barefoot and dress a bit raggedy. Pregnant a BIG plus.

my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Grub shopping at WallyWorld is a thing

2011-12-11T06:49:00.000-05:00

I have to do for the boat every so often. It's a pain in the duff, but during the holidays it is a bit worse. Checking out is the worst part of the process because sometimes people that do not understand what is going on try and cut in between carts, of which I sometimes have several.

While I try and keep them tightly together to make it clear it is one order, I can't always because I am boxing groceries up at the same time. SOmetimes it gets a little chaotic.

Truth is I shop for the boat at WallyWorld because I save a bundle for the boat guys but sometimes it is a problem. WHen you add that on top of grub there are quite a lot of bulky items like paper towels I buy it is no wonder I sometimes wind up with three or four carts of stuff.

The WallyWorld people are pretty good about letting me stash my filled carts but checking out gets to be a hassle. I do my damnedest to try and make things pretty easy for people behind me by explaining that the process is going to take a while. Most people are grateful to be forewarned; they simply use another aisle. However, there is always some dope that can't seem to figure it out.

I had just finished ringing up two carts of grub and was headed the entryway of the checkout aisle to get the next pair of carts when some jerk barged in and put his four items on the conveyor belt and looked at me.

"I'm in a hurry," he said.

"Then you might want to use the other aisle," I said. "I'm only halfway done ringing up my order."

"But you can..." he continued.

"Cash out now and restart?" I interrupted. "No way, I only have one check with me."

"But I'm in a hurry," he repeated.

"Then go through another aisle. I'm not done yet," I repeated. "Now either please take your items or I'll buy them to get them out of the way."

He stood there with a stupid look on his face.

I looked at the man's four items. Under ten bucks worth. I made a decision.

I picked up the items and scanned them and reopened a fruit box I was boxing the grub in and placed his four items in the box. The clerk gave me a serious look, but said nothing.

"What are you doing with my stuff?" he cried out, excitedly.

"Not your stuff, MY stuff. I just bought it." I replied, simply.

He went into shock and after a few seconds angrily told me he was going to get a manager.

"Fine," I said. "Seems like you're in a hurry but you have enough time to kill getting a manager and starting a protracted argument, Right? The smartest thing you can do is get another four items and find another register. I told you several times I wasn't done ringing up my order. I told you it was going to take a while."

The last two carts actually went fast. They took only about a minute because they were mainly paper towels. By the time the guy returned with a manager I had handed the clerk my check and he was putting it into his drawer.

"What's going on here," asked the manager.

"This rude and stupid man barged in while I was halfway through ringing up my order and demanded that he get his four items rung up." I answered.

The manager looked at the clerk. "Is that true?" he asked.

"Yes, it's true," I interrupted. "The man is rude and stupid."

The manager looked at me. He clearly didn't know whether to laugh or chew me out. He turned to the clerk, who nodded.

"And the man's items?" asked the manager.

"Not his items, MINE. I have paid for them and they are mine. Every item in these carts and boxes has been bought and paid for." I said, conversationally. "I explained to him that he was interrupting my order but he didn't seem to get it. I simply bought the stuff he put on the conveyor to expedite things. Just another bump in the road."

The manager turned to the man. "I guess you're just going to have to get another four items and wait in line. he said, simply. Then he added, "Try not to cut in line," with a little snide edge in his voice.

Then he turned to me. "Need help getting your groceries to your car?" he asked, waving his hand to someone who came over. He looked at the teenager. "Help this man get his purchases out to his car."
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my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/

Neighbor Tom, who is not Neighbor Bob pulled a pretty good one last night.

2011-12-10T07:38:00.000-05:00

I was over his place for a bit and he mantioned having something wrong with him that made the doctor recommend drinking a lot of cranberry juice. He poured himself a pretty good sized glass of it and left about 1 1/2 inches of the top of the glass empty.

"Cranberry juice is good for the liver," he said. "Alcohol in not."

With that he filled the rest of the glass with vodka.

"Time to slap the hell out of the liver, make it do flip-flops and show it who's boss," he said, downing a healthy dollop.

I like that. I might have to add that drink to my list except for one thing. It is a sneaky drink. It goes down like water and sneaks up and wallops you from behind.

In New England they call it a 'Cape Codder' and in Kodiak they call it a Kiska. Still, no matter what you call it it is a pretty good way to wake up wondering what the hell happened last night si while I am not going to add it to my list of favorite beverages, I will keep it in mind for those times when it is a good idea to make the liver do flip-flops.

After all, sometimes you do have to make sure the liver knows who is boss.
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my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/