but every so often I run into the father of a man that was killed in action in Afghanistan thirteen years ago.
He was a young Ranger captain that went down in a helicopter in 2007.
A couple of months ago I bumped into him and he looks a lot older than his years. Losing his son has really aged him and I seriously wonder how much longer he is going to be around.
Losing a child is rough and I wonder what the mother looks like now. I've never met her.
Still, it's horrible what the loss of a son has done to this man.
It's sad.
As I think about things and see the direction the country is headed in I can't help think that this Ranger is spinning in his grave.
I wonder what the parents think.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this:
http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Sunday, May 10, 2020
Saturday, May 9, 2020
Some people like to work with their hands and be left alone.
I just got a pretty good Navy story from an old sailor.
He was a first class petty officer at the time and had a pretty sharp third class working for him. He was unaware at the time that the third class had a master's degree in engineering. He learned that later when the man was promoted to second class.
He said nothing to the man because he knew that if the now second class wanted to go to OCS he would put in for it. It was his business.
During the promotion process the man's education came to the attention of his supervising officer who went straight to the man with an application for OCS. The applicaation was already filled out. He refused to sign it. When asked why he told his supervisor it was his business.
Of course there are some people that just don't get it so the young ensign got a couple of other officers to try and pressure him to take a commission. The three of them called him in and started to pressure the man to no avail.
Finally one of the officers asked him why he didn't want to commission and the man told them that he liked working with his hands.
One of the officers started in with "I don't understand why you won't take advantage of this opportunity."
"Because I would have to work with people like you!" he shot back. "By your leave, Sir!" He turned and walked out.
The incident got brought to the attention of the captain a day or to later. The captain was a mustang, a former enlisted man that had gone through a commissioning program. The Navy had sent him to college.
He looked at the officers in th ward room and said, "I was like that second class. I loved what I was doing and loved the Navy. I'm a mustang and almost didn't take a commission for the same reason he won't. I would have to serve with people like YOU."
"Fact is," he continued. "I did take a commission but only because I wanted a degree for when I retire. Had I not wanted one I would have stayed enlisted. I enjoyed being enlisted a damned sight more than I like being commissioned. It was sure as hell a lot more fun. Leave the man alone."
This story had a happy ending. Lots of them don't. Both the services and businesses lose good people by trying to promote them into positions they simply don't want. They generally go somewhere else where they can do what they like doing.
I knew a Marine staff sergeant that said the highest rank he'll let the Corps promote him to is gunnery sergeant because if they promote him to master sergeant he won't be able to use his tools. He'll be a supervisor. He doesn't want that and when the Corps does try and promote him he will simply retire.
I know of more than one person that has refused promotion because they liked what they were doing and were content. I've also met people who have over the years have gotten themselves demoted because they didn't like being in management.
A couple of them reported that when they requested being put where they were the boss expressed mass confusion and wondered why. So did other people.
An awful lot of people have not gotten it figured out yet. One spends a rather large part of his/her life working and it makes no real sense to be in a place you are miserable all the time.
Of course the common reply is "But the money!"
You have to ask yourself if the money is actually worth it. It's a formula we all have to plug into ourselves. How much money is enough?
For some people it's always a dollar more. For others they just look at their bills and if they're paid and they have enough for a beer after work they are good to go.
Some people just don't give a damn and live off the leftovers of an affluent society. It's not hard. I did that for a while. Personally I never looked at life as a contest. Some people think the person that dies with the most toys wins.
Some of these people ought to take a trip to a graveyard and see where the people that had the most toys are buried. Right next to some guy that didn't have a pot to piss in and had a ball going fishing with his kids Saturdays instead of busting his ass to buy toys he seldom got to use.
It's an individual thing.
I always liked the Marine colonel that planned on opening a bait shop when he retired. No corporate rat race for him! He'd pull his pension and putter around.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
He was a first class petty officer at the time and had a pretty sharp third class working for him. He was unaware at the time that the third class had a master's degree in engineering. He learned that later when the man was promoted to second class.
He said nothing to the man because he knew that if the now second class wanted to go to OCS he would put in for it. It was his business.
During the promotion process the man's education came to the attention of his supervising officer who went straight to the man with an application for OCS. The applicaation was already filled out. He refused to sign it. When asked why he told his supervisor it was his business.
Of course there are some people that just don't get it so the young ensign got a couple of other officers to try and pressure him to take a commission. The three of them called him in and started to pressure the man to no avail.
Finally one of the officers asked him why he didn't want to commission and the man told them that he liked working with his hands.
One of the officers started in with "I don't understand why you won't take advantage of this opportunity."
"Because I would have to work with people like you!" he shot back. "By your leave, Sir!" He turned and walked out.
The incident got brought to the attention of the captain a day or to later. The captain was a mustang, a former enlisted man that had gone through a commissioning program. The Navy had sent him to college.
He looked at the officers in th ward room and said, "I was like that second class. I loved what I was doing and loved the Navy. I'm a mustang and almost didn't take a commission for the same reason he won't. I would have to serve with people like YOU."
"Fact is," he continued. "I did take a commission but only because I wanted a degree for when I retire. Had I not wanted one I would have stayed enlisted. I enjoyed being enlisted a damned sight more than I like being commissioned. It was sure as hell a lot more fun. Leave the man alone."
This story had a happy ending. Lots of them don't. Both the services and businesses lose good people by trying to promote them into positions they simply don't want. They generally go somewhere else where they can do what they like doing.
I knew a Marine staff sergeant that said the highest rank he'll let the Corps promote him to is gunnery sergeant because if they promote him to master sergeant he won't be able to use his tools. He'll be a supervisor. He doesn't want that and when the Corps does try and promote him he will simply retire.
I know of more than one person that has refused promotion because they liked what they were doing and were content. I've also met people who have over the years have gotten themselves demoted because they didn't like being in management.
A couple of them reported that when they requested being put where they were the boss expressed mass confusion and wondered why. So did other people.
An awful lot of people have not gotten it figured out yet. One spends a rather large part of his/her life working and it makes no real sense to be in a place you are miserable all the time.
Of course the common reply is "But the money!"
You have to ask yourself if the money is actually worth it. It's a formula we all have to plug into ourselves. How much money is enough?
For some people it's always a dollar more. For others they just look at their bills and if they're paid and they have enough for a beer after work they are good to go.
Some people just don't give a damn and live off the leftovers of an affluent society. It's not hard. I did that for a while. Personally I never looked at life as a contest. Some people think the person that dies with the most toys wins.
Some of these people ought to take a trip to a graveyard and see where the people that had the most toys are buried. Right next to some guy that didn't have a pot to piss in and had a ball going fishing with his kids Saturdays instead of busting his ass to buy toys he seldom got to use.
It's an individual thing.
I always liked the Marine colonel that planned on opening a bait shop when he retired. No corporate rat race for him! He'd pull his pension and putter around.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Friday, May 8, 2020
One of the things that most of our elected officials
do not really want to face is a person like me.
The problem for them is I really don't give a damn and I am not impressed.
Chucky Wucky Schumer puts his pants on the same way I do. I am not scared of him even a little bit. Same holds true for all of them.
While I am not going to drive 800 miles out of my way, it he were to cross my path I very well may tell him to kiss my ass.
Very few have my respect, my loyalty or my obedience.
You have to understand the mentality of people that run for office. They are the kind of people that think they were born to tell other people what to do.
They often forget that a lot of us that quietly live our lives responsibly don't like being told what to do.
Personally I think that if we pitched a minor revolution every couple of decades and made abusive politicians forfeit their lives there would be an entirely different caliber of people in office.
In the military and private sector I have noticed there are a lot of people that vie for management positions because they like thinking they can tell other people what to do. What the duds in high places never seem to realize is they were given their authority to enable them to get a job done...not to be able to hassle people at will.
***********************
While I was in the service I didn't address officers as 'sir' too often. I would address them by rank which is also acceptable.
I remember an annoyed young lieutenant say to me, "You don't say 'sir' very often, do you?"
"No, Lieutenant, I don't." I replied. "I generally address officers and noncommissioned officers by rank as military courtesy dictates."
Looking back on it, the lieutenant was a was a fast learner. He saw where this one was going to go. He would probably lose or the best case scenario he would win a very small pyrrhic victory. He also knew that either way he was going to lose face so he dropped the issue and never brought it up again.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
The problem for them is I really don't give a damn and I am not impressed.
Chucky Wucky Schumer puts his pants on the same way I do. I am not scared of him even a little bit. Same holds true for all of them.
While I am not going to drive 800 miles out of my way, it he were to cross my path I very well may tell him to kiss my ass.
Very few have my respect, my loyalty or my obedience.
You have to understand the mentality of people that run for office. They are the kind of people that think they were born to tell other people what to do.
They often forget that a lot of us that quietly live our lives responsibly don't like being told what to do.
Personally I think that if we pitched a minor revolution every couple of decades and made abusive politicians forfeit their lives there would be an entirely different caliber of people in office.
In the military and private sector I have noticed there are a lot of people that vie for management positions because they like thinking they can tell other people what to do. What the duds in high places never seem to realize is they were given their authority to enable them to get a job done...not to be able to hassle people at will.
***********************
While I was in the service I didn't address officers as 'sir' too often. I would address them by rank which is also acceptable.
I remember an annoyed young lieutenant say to me, "You don't say 'sir' very often, do you?"
"No, Lieutenant, I don't." I replied. "I generally address officers and noncommissioned officers by rank as military courtesy dictates."
Looking back on it, the lieutenant was a was a fast learner. He saw where this one was going to go. He would probably lose or the best case scenario he would win a very small pyrrhic victory. He also knew that either way he was going to lose face so he dropped the issue and never brought it up again.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Thursday, May 7, 2020
Sometimes I think I got a certain talent from someone.
Most likely my father.
Specifically the talent to keep a straight face while I am feeding someone a total line of complete BS.
One night at dinner I mentioned that I had read somewhere that Thanksgiving had been celebrated in December.
'I know," said Dad. "They changed that because the Plymouth merchants all complained that it cut down on the number of shopping days until Christmas."
"Really?" asked my mother. I was agog.
At least for a few seconds I was. Then I figured it out. There were no shopping centers in 1621. I did, however manage to keep a straight face.
"The merchants really raised hell with the Pilgrims about that," he finished.
A few minutes later Mom figured it out.
Anyway a while back one of the young bucks on one of the tugs asked me what else I had done for a living.
I told him I had been a pornographic movie actor so casually that it just HAD to be true.
"Really?" he asked and I knew I had a live one on the hook.
My shipmate's eyes clicked on me for a nanosecond and then he turned his head to keep his smirk from letting the cat out of the bag.
I won't post the conversation here even though it was outrageous and totally believable. The family reads this and I promised my sister I'd keep it clean.
I did casually mention that the actresses loved me because my member was a normal size and with me they didn't feel like they were being assaulted by a two foot long chunk of balogna.
Suffice to say the young lad probably went straight to the nearest computer and went looking for old porn to see if I was really in it.
Hook line and sinker.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Specifically the talent to keep a straight face while I am feeding someone a total line of complete BS.
One night at dinner I mentioned that I had read somewhere that Thanksgiving had been celebrated in December.
'I know," said Dad. "They changed that because the Plymouth merchants all complained that it cut down on the number of shopping days until Christmas."
"Really?" asked my mother. I was agog.
At least for a few seconds I was. Then I figured it out. There were no shopping centers in 1621. I did, however manage to keep a straight face.
"The merchants really raised hell with the Pilgrims about that," he finished.
A few minutes later Mom figured it out.
Anyway a while back one of the young bucks on one of the tugs asked me what else I had done for a living.
I told him I had been a pornographic movie actor so casually that it just HAD to be true.
"Really?" he asked and I knew I had a live one on the hook.
My shipmate's eyes clicked on me for a nanosecond and then he turned his head to keep his smirk from letting the cat out of the bag.
I won't post the conversation here even though it was outrageous and totally believable. The family reads this and I promised my sister I'd keep it clean.
I did casually mention that the actresses loved me because my member was a normal size and with me they didn't feel like they were being assaulted by a two foot long chunk of balogna.
Suffice to say the young lad probably went straight to the nearest computer and went looking for old porn to see if I was really in it.
Hook line and sinker.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Someone else wrote today's post
This came to me in the form of a text message.
Okay. Here's one for your blog.
This 60ish bird of a woman walked past me at the airport, the only one there except two Seattle cops. None of us were wearing masks but at least I had mine pulled down ...but ready.
She snapped at me :Why aren't you wearing your mask?"
I replied "Why aren't YOU?" and she said...I kid you not..."Because I am essential personnel." and asked the cops "Are you going to DO something?"
Without losing a beat one cop said "No. Move along."
The world has gotten Pelosified.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Wednesday, May 6, 2020
There is no real mandatory gotta wear a mask everywhere rule here in PA.
Yet every so often you run into someone that thinks there is and decides to become the self appointed mask police.
These people are my bread and butter. My answers are as you can imagine, pretty sarcastic.
"Look, it's been over two weeks since I've had unprotected sex with a Chinese prostitute. I'm safe."
I asked some guy"Will it go on my permanent record?"
"When you report me to the STASI don't forget to tell them about the Jewish family and three shot down aviator I'm hiding in my basement."
"So YOU'RE the one that ratted out Anne Frank!"
A while back before this COVID crap I told a woman that SCOTUS had declared that people had the right to face their accusers and that the police departments with tip lines had to open their files to the public and now we'll see who the snitches are!"
The woman turned completely ashen. Especially when I added that I had just gotten outta the joint by the governor's order and that I wanted to go back to finish my sentence and get it over with.
The majority of these self appointed police officers are women and that's because they know that nobody will hit them. Truth is I won't unless they get physical. That changes the rules.
Guys generally keep their mouths shut because they know that they can't hide behind a dress.
Someone gave me a great idea for the next one I run into. He said I should whip out the cell phone, take their picture and tell them I am posting it on social media labeled 'Snitch, member of the Mask Police. This is the kind of person that got Anne Frank murdered'.
Now let's here what I do in real life.
As an act of courtesy to my fellow man if I am going into a situation where I am going to be around ANYONE I mask up. It's common courtesy, something society seems to be lacking these days.
When I am not near anyone, perhaps driving or taking a walk I go without. However I do pack one while walking in case I meet up with someone. I never wear one gardening.
I do NOT wear a mask because some jerk in Harrisburg posted what is basically an unconstitutional edict. The governor can kiss my ass. The mask police can, too.
I wear one simply because I am a good citizen.
Come to think of it, I bet that if people started writing 'Trump 2020' on their masks that wearing them would become a felony in a lot of blue states.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
These people are my bread and butter. My answers are as you can imagine, pretty sarcastic.
"Look, it's been over two weeks since I've had unprotected sex with a Chinese prostitute. I'm safe."
I asked some guy"Will it go on my permanent record?"
"When you report me to the STASI don't forget to tell them about the Jewish family and three shot down aviator I'm hiding in my basement."
"So YOU'RE the one that ratted out Anne Frank!"
A while back before this COVID crap I told a woman that SCOTUS had declared that people had the right to face their accusers and that the police departments with tip lines had to open their files to the public and now we'll see who the snitches are!"
The woman turned completely ashen. Especially when I added that I had just gotten outta the joint by the governor's order and that I wanted to go back to finish my sentence and get it over with.
The majority of these self appointed police officers are women and that's because they know that nobody will hit them. Truth is I won't unless they get physical. That changes the rules.
Guys generally keep their mouths shut because they know that they can't hide behind a dress.
Someone gave me a great idea for the next one I run into. He said I should whip out the cell phone, take their picture and tell them I am posting it on social media labeled 'Snitch, member of the Mask Police. This is the kind of person that got Anne Frank murdered'.
Now let's here what I do in real life.
As an act of courtesy to my fellow man if I am going into a situation where I am going to be around ANYONE I mask up. It's common courtesy, something society seems to be lacking these days.
When I am not near anyone, perhaps driving or taking a walk I go without. However I do pack one while walking in case I meet up with someone. I never wear one gardening.
I do NOT wear a mask because some jerk in Harrisburg posted what is basically an unconstitutional edict. The governor can kiss my ass. The mask police can, too.
I wear one simply because I am a good citizen.
Come to think of it, I bet that if people started writing 'Trump 2020' on their masks that wearing them would become a felony in a lot of blue states.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Tuesday, May 5, 2020
One of the things I like to do is give the busybodies false information.
Working on the water makes this possible because I am out of town when the non crime is committed because it give me an unimpeachable alibi.
"We're going to burn down the orphanage on the 8th!" (Or whatever)
Of course the little snitch goes straight to the police and babbles incoherently that Piccolo is going to burn down the orphanage on the 8th.
Of course the orphanage doesn't burn down and even so if they decided to check up on my whereabouts I am 600 miles away.
It doesn't take too many times of that and the snitch looks real stupid.
What's interesting to note is that there are actually a couple of officers I check in with when I leave town.
In fact about six or eight months ago one of them asked me when I was going to continue to throw dead hookers out in my trash. Apparently the guys in the department thought it was pretty funny.
They must have thought it was pretty funny because they normally ask someone to stop doing things like that because it generates a lot of traffic to the dispatcher. They must have liked it enough to accept the phone calls which I am sure it generated.
Some years ago I had a friend in retail that would occasionally give me a sun bleached mannequin. I'd throw a cheap set of Walmart fishnet stockings and a pair of Goodwill high heels (preferably the sexy mules) on the mannequin and stuff it in the trash with the legs sticking out.
I stopped doing that when my friend left retail.
I know the local Gendarmes did get at least one call. Some chubby little Earth mama came to the door and raised hell with me. She told me it wasn't funny and she was going to call the police if I didn't remove it. I offered to let her use my phone and told her that while she was at it she should also mention the 45 pounds of cocaine I was planning on selling to schoolchildren and $475,000 of laundered money I was keeping in the garage. She left in quite a huff.
Actually in a way I respected the little Earth mama. She at least had the moxie to confront me instead of being a whiny little cowardly snitch.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
"We're going to burn down the orphanage on the 8th!" (Or whatever)
Of course the little snitch goes straight to the police and babbles incoherently that Piccolo is going to burn down the orphanage on the 8th.
Of course the orphanage doesn't burn down and even so if they decided to check up on my whereabouts I am 600 miles away.
It doesn't take too many times of that and the snitch looks real stupid.
What's interesting to note is that there are actually a couple of officers I check in with when I leave town.
In fact about six or eight months ago one of them asked me when I was going to continue to throw dead hookers out in my trash. Apparently the guys in the department thought it was pretty funny.
They must have thought it was pretty funny because they normally ask someone to stop doing things like that because it generates a lot of traffic to the dispatcher. They must have liked it enough to accept the phone calls which I am sure it generated.
Some years ago I had a friend in retail that would occasionally give me a sun bleached mannequin. I'd throw a cheap set of Walmart fishnet stockings and a pair of Goodwill high heels (preferably the sexy mules) on the mannequin and stuff it in the trash with the legs sticking out.
I stopped doing that when my friend left retail.
I know the local Gendarmes did get at least one call. Some chubby little Earth mama came to the door and raised hell with me. She told me it wasn't funny and she was going to call the police if I didn't remove it. I offered to let her use my phone and told her that while she was at it she should also mention the 45 pounds of cocaine I was planning on selling to schoolchildren and $475,000 of laundered money I was keeping in the garage. She left in quite a huff.
Actually in a way I respected the little Earth mama. She at least had the moxie to confront me instead of being a whiny little cowardly snitch.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Monday, May 4, 2020
I briefly dated a really cool woman
that had invited me over for a slap up meal.
While I was there the phone rang and I heard her pick it up and say say, "Well get over here! I'm bored and that sounds great! All I'm doing now is the laundry and all I have now is time. Come on over!"
She turned and looked at me with a big cheerful smile and told me she had just gotten an obscene phone call. I marveled at the confidence she had shown handling it. An awful lot of women go straight into panic mode even though a phone call can't hurt them.
I laughed at the confidence she had shown in dealing with the caller. I also knew that she was pretty capable and probably had a pistol of some sort in easy reach. She could take care of herself.
My suspicions were confirmed on a later date. I spotted a small .22 revolver in a drawer which isn't anyone's first choice for self defense but would suffice if push came to shove.
Like a lot of us, she drove a funky VW bug which back in those days was a fairly simple machine. She did most of her own maintenance on it. Her father had taught her well.
My life was in transition at the time and as a result the relationship ended practically before it got started.
Still, I wonder what happened to her.
Women like that make good sailor, doctors, and soldiers wives because they can take care of themselves when their husband is off making a living.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
While I was there the phone rang and I heard her pick it up and say say, "Well get over here! I'm bored and that sounds great! All I'm doing now is the laundry and all I have now is time. Come on over!"
She turned and looked at me with a big cheerful smile and told me she had just gotten an obscene phone call. I marveled at the confidence she had shown handling it. An awful lot of women go straight into panic mode even though a phone call can't hurt them.
I laughed at the confidence she had shown in dealing with the caller. I also knew that she was pretty capable and probably had a pistol of some sort in easy reach. She could take care of herself.
My suspicions were confirmed on a later date. I spotted a small .22 revolver in a drawer which isn't anyone's first choice for self defense but would suffice if push came to shove.
Like a lot of us, she drove a funky VW bug which back in those days was a fairly simple machine. She did most of her own maintenance on it. Her father had taught her well.
My life was in transition at the time and as a result the relationship ended practically before it got started.
Still, I wonder what happened to her.
Women like that make good sailor, doctors, and soldiers wives because they can take care of themselves when their husband is off making a living.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Sunday, May 3, 2020
I heard that Larry died in a fire from smoke inhalation.
which kind of sucks. I liked Larry. I haven't seen him in decades and when I tried to look him up a few years back I heard that he had died in a fire a few months earlier.
It's too bad. I wanted to say hi and see what happened to him.
Larry was actually kind of a troublemaker when I was in high school with him. For the first couple of years I looked down on him. But over time I came to understand him and by my senior year I grew to actually like and respect him.
Larry was old school and still wore a grease cut. He was a born rebel and didn't take a lot of guff from teachers or the administration. The vice principal hated him and as to be expected, the enemy of my enemy is more often than not my friend.
He was looked down on by the college bound set although he was rather bright. If he had decided to he could have whistled his way through college but that wasn't where he wanted to go.
He was a pretty good organizer and that was one other thing the administration hated about him.
The truth is he was bored as hell with school and saw through the BS they used to try and keep us in line. Threats to have a stain on his 'permanent record' were laughed off because he knew there was no such thing. Threats to ruin his chances to get into college were a joke because he was not headed that way.
He wasn't intimidated by the school authorities and they hated him for that, too.
There was a program called 'Good Government Day'. It may still exist but every high school was supposed to send a representative and Larry threw his hat into the ring. At first everyone laughed.
He ran a basic straight faced campaign on the outside but his quiet campaign people spread word that it would give the administration a real black eye if we sent him.
Of course the so-called class leaders were appalled and started badmouthing him. Those were the handful of students that got all the plums. They were always being sent off to represent us because the administration knew they would be good little boys and girls.
It was getting close to the election and the administration did another stupid thing that pissed off practically the entire student body because they were treating us like small children.
The student body was looking for a way to retaliate and they found it in Larry. We decided that sending him to Good Government day would embarrass the administration. We knew he'd do something.
He won with about 80% of the student vote. We all knew there was no way the administration could stuff the ballot box. In fact the woman responsible for counting the ballots had been counting ballots for only a few minutes and looked at the vice principal and said, "We're sending Larry." The vice principal turned ashen. I grinned broadly.
He must have cringed as he pictured 'Nando straight out of 'West Side Story' from his black pointed shoes to his scalp full of Greasy Kid Stuff entering a world of wholesome collegians resplendent in their Ivy League button down collared madras shirts.
I'm sure he wanted to call the whole thing off. I'm sure he considered it but rightfully figured there would not be a school standing if he did. There would be a terrible uproar and he'd likely get fired.
We sent Larry off and as we planned he did create quite a stir. The stir he created wasn't what we had expected. We had figured he'd get popped for smuggling beer in or maybe picking a fight with a teacher of some damned thing. We just knew he would create a real horror show of some kind. We were actually planning on it.
Instead he blew our minds. He buckled down, got with the program and put his all into it to the point where the Good Government people gave him some kind of special award.
Needless to say that afterwards when that was announced on the school PA system everyone cheered. We knew we had really stuck it to the administration because then had tried to find an excuse not to send him. Not only had Larry truly pissed off the administration but he had brought the school glory.
Of course the final humiliation was at the next assembly when the vice principal had to call him up on stage, shake his hand and tell him what a good job he had done. The look on Larry's face when he got called up onstage said 'kiss my ass'. We were ecstatic.
I gained a lot of respect for the guys that were headed off into the industrial arts careers because of Larry. I'm sure he had done a lot better than the college bound set. They would have played the 'to get along go along' game. I'm sure he had stuck his neck out and rolled the dice and won. Larry had guts.
I sort of lost touch with Larry some time after graduation and wish I could have met him when we were older but it was not to be. It's kind of sad.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
It's too bad. I wanted to say hi and see what happened to him.
Larry was actually kind of a troublemaker when I was in high school with him. For the first couple of years I looked down on him. But over time I came to understand him and by my senior year I grew to actually like and respect him.
Larry was old school and still wore a grease cut. He was a born rebel and didn't take a lot of guff from teachers or the administration. The vice principal hated him and as to be expected, the enemy of my enemy is more often than not my friend.
He was looked down on by the college bound set although he was rather bright. If he had decided to he could have whistled his way through college but that wasn't where he wanted to go.
He was a pretty good organizer and that was one other thing the administration hated about him.
The truth is he was bored as hell with school and saw through the BS they used to try and keep us in line. Threats to have a stain on his 'permanent record' were laughed off because he knew there was no such thing. Threats to ruin his chances to get into college were a joke because he was not headed that way.
He wasn't intimidated by the school authorities and they hated him for that, too.
There was a program called 'Good Government Day'. It may still exist but every high school was supposed to send a representative and Larry threw his hat into the ring. At first everyone laughed.
He ran a basic straight faced campaign on the outside but his quiet campaign people spread word that it would give the administration a real black eye if we sent him.
Of course the so-called class leaders were appalled and started badmouthing him. Those were the handful of students that got all the plums. They were always being sent off to represent us because the administration knew they would be good little boys and girls.
It was getting close to the election and the administration did another stupid thing that pissed off practically the entire student body because they were treating us like small children.
The student body was looking for a way to retaliate and they found it in Larry. We decided that sending him to Good Government day would embarrass the administration. We knew he'd do something.
He won with about 80% of the student vote. We all knew there was no way the administration could stuff the ballot box. In fact the woman responsible for counting the ballots had been counting ballots for only a few minutes and looked at the vice principal and said, "We're sending Larry." The vice principal turned ashen. I grinned broadly.
He must have cringed as he pictured 'Nando straight out of 'West Side Story' from his black pointed shoes to his scalp full of Greasy Kid Stuff entering a world of wholesome collegians resplendent in their Ivy League button down collared madras shirts.
I'm sure he wanted to call the whole thing off. I'm sure he considered it but rightfully figured there would not be a school standing if he did. There would be a terrible uproar and he'd likely get fired.
We sent Larry off and as we planned he did create quite a stir. The stir he created wasn't what we had expected. We had figured he'd get popped for smuggling beer in or maybe picking a fight with a teacher of some damned thing. We just knew he would create a real horror show of some kind. We were actually planning on it.
Instead he blew our minds. He buckled down, got with the program and put his all into it to the point where the Good Government people gave him some kind of special award.
Needless to say that afterwards when that was announced on the school PA system everyone cheered. We knew we had really stuck it to the administration because then had tried to find an excuse not to send him. Not only had Larry truly pissed off the administration but he had brought the school glory.
Of course the final humiliation was at the next assembly when the vice principal had to call him up on stage, shake his hand and tell him what a good job he had done. The look on Larry's face when he got called up onstage said 'kiss my ass'. We were ecstatic.
I gained a lot of respect for the guys that were headed off into the industrial arts careers because of Larry. I'm sure he had done a lot better than the college bound set. They would have played the 'to get along go along' game. I'm sure he had stuck his neck out and rolled the dice and won. Larry had guts.
I sort of lost touch with Larry some time after graduation and wish I could have met him when we were older but it was not to be. It's kind of sad.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Friday, May 1, 2020
Piccolo meets another idiot.
which is nothing new. The world is full of idiots. When shortages come and everything becomes difficult to get we will still have a humongous surplus of idiots.
The other day I watched a Karen shuffle through the cleaning supplies looking for a germicide. There were none to be had so I suggested putting bleach and water into a spray bottle and told her it was probably the best germicide out there.
She was one of those idiots that was convinced that things couldn't be that easy and that in HER house they were going to use BRAND NAME products. To her there was no way in hell something that easy and cheap could possibly be as good as something that was expensive.
I was about to shuffle off when she told me her kids were never leaving the house until this plague is all over and how she constantly battles germs.
I told her that the kids should be outside playing in the yard and the dirt because by germ proofing everything all the time would lower the kids antibody system and when this mess is over they'll be susceptible to just about everything coming down the pike.
Then I told her that she may not believe it but a lot the homeless have incredibly powerful immune systems because of their constant exposure to everything.
"How could that possibly be?" she asked and at that I knew I was dealing with an idiot incapable of logic. "Those people live in filth!"
"Which is exactly why they have such powerful immune systems," I answered. "Living rough like that puts the antibodies on high alert and makes the immune system stronger."
"My children certainly have a better system than any homeless person," she said. "Because I keep my home germ free and don't let them outside!"
"Whatever," I replied. "Next time you run into a health care person that has worked with the homeless ask them about it. You might actually learn something." With that I wandered off.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
The other day I watched a Karen shuffle through the cleaning supplies looking for a germicide. There were none to be had so I suggested putting bleach and water into a spray bottle and told her it was probably the best germicide out there.
She was one of those idiots that was convinced that things couldn't be that easy and that in HER house they were going to use BRAND NAME products. To her there was no way in hell something that easy and cheap could possibly be as good as something that was expensive.
I was about to shuffle off when she told me her kids were never leaving the house until this plague is all over and how she constantly battles germs.
I told her that the kids should be outside playing in the yard and the dirt because by germ proofing everything all the time would lower the kids antibody system and when this mess is over they'll be susceptible to just about everything coming down the pike.
Then I told her that she may not believe it but a lot the homeless have incredibly powerful immune systems because of their constant exposure to everything.
"How could that possibly be?" she asked and at that I knew I was dealing with an idiot incapable of logic. "Those people live in filth!"
"Which is exactly why they have such powerful immune systems," I answered. "Living rough like that puts the antibodies on high alert and makes the immune system stronger."
"My children certainly have a better system than any homeless person," she said. "Because I keep my home germ free and don't let them outside!"
"Whatever," I replied. "Next time you run into a health care person that has worked with the homeless ask them about it. You might actually learn something." With that I wandered off.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Thursday, April 30, 2020
Ed and I went to different schools together.
is what I told someone that asked how we knew each other.
In a way that's true. We both went to grades 1-8 together and part of our high school freshmen year until he transferred to the local vocational school. Still we ran into each other regularly.
Of course the saying of going to different schools together is a Yogi Berra saying but it does hold a certain amount of water in this case.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
In a way that's true. We both went to grades 1-8 together and part of our high school freshmen year until he transferred to the local vocational school. Still we ran into each other regularly.
Of course the saying of going to different schools together is a Yogi Berra saying but it does hold a certain amount of water in this case.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Wednesday, April 29, 2020
Making chili
which is NOT some kind of gourmet meal like they seem to think it is in Texas and a few other places.
You do NOT chop or grind up Delmonico steaks to make chili. Nor is there a specific recipe unless you are making a batch for some dopey cook-off somewhere.
Chili is, was and ever shall be, world without end, amen a simple saddle tramp meal made out of what is on hand. The only real key ingredient in it is beef, and not top shelf beef, either. Generally the guys herding cattle on a drive. Usually they wound up using whatever hapless animal broke a leg by stepping into a gopher hole or was just plain gnarly and unmarketable, often an old steer.
You have to remember that the cows that the cowboys were driving were to be sold and they didn't want to eat the profits up along the way.
Generally today chili aficionados use hamburger meat to make chili but it was unavailable when I went shopping thanks to the food hoarders that have wiped out Walmart and the local supermarkets.
My wife told me that there's been a run on freezers because of this pandemic and I see that people are buying stuff to fill them.
Anyway I bought a couple of hefty sized packages of stew beef and sharpened up my knife and went to work cutting the chunks into pieces about half the size of my little toe which is about right.
Many years ago I was using stew beef and my wife asked me how big the pieces were that I was cutting. I told her they were about half the size of my little toe. She asked me why they were not the size of HER little toe and I said because I was the one doing the cooking. I remember this well because it was one of the first time I held my tongue.
My knee jerk reply was probably something like "Because I'm not a bigfoot." She isn't, either but an answer like that would probably get most of us into trouble because most women do not share the same sense of humor men do. As proof I use the Three Stooges or Groucho Marx which woman almost universally hate but I digress.
Anyway you brown the meat, fry up the onions and peppers, add tomatoes and put in enough beans to suit. You add the spices you want as you go along and then let the whole mess simmer for a while and you call it good.
You have to remember that this stuff is to be eaten as a basic meal. You don't have to turn it into some kind of fire if you don't want. I figure the banana peppers, a couple of envelopes of taco seasoning and a healthy dallop of Tabasco sauce is about enough but that's just my preference. I have pretty much a garbage gut to begin with. If you are one of those people that have a delicate digestive system it's OK to skip some of the seasoning. If you are a fire-eater have at it and load the thing up.
In this case I didn't have a skillet to make a batch of this size. I want to freeze most of it in sandwich sized Rubbermaid containers so I can thaw it out and eat it at my leisure. I don't want to eat chili day in and day out until it's gone. The containers are a pretty good sized unit for portion control.
What I did with this batch is brown the meat in the skillet and then dump it into the crock pot. I did the same with the onion and pepper mix which was pretty hefty. I had a humongous onion and a big handful of peppers to get rid of so according to the Official Saddle Tramp Recipe book I simply threw it all into the pot.
Page 14, Article 2, Amendment 8 subsection B, clause B-4 says specifically that it is an acceptable thing to do under the chapter for Chuck Wagon cooks. It says specifically 'In the event one has too much onion of too many peppers just throw the damned things into the wretched mess because most likely even the pickiest cowboy will be too tired to notice and even if he does he probably won't care'.
Anyway I got a few things to do and I can get a few things done so I figure I'll let the entire thing chug away in the crock pot for a while. After that I may even put it in the refrigerator overnight and reheat it in the morning because things like this are generally better after a night in the reefer and a reheat. Spaghetti sauce is like that. It's generally best at the second or third reheat.
Anyway, it's a simple meal for simple tastes.
I don't hide the fact that trying to impress me by taking me to a fancy place for dinner does not work. It is a waste of your time and money. I am not impressed. If you really want to impress me then take me to a good greasy spoon where I can check out the meat loaf.
On the other hand, I do like good hooch.
It looks like I'll dish this batch up and freeze it tomorrow. I've made enough mistakes today and it'll probably wind up being better if I do it that way.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
You do NOT chop or grind up Delmonico steaks to make chili. Nor is there a specific recipe unless you are making a batch for some dopey cook-off somewhere.
Chili is, was and ever shall be, world without end, amen a simple saddle tramp meal made out of what is on hand. The only real key ingredient in it is beef, and not top shelf beef, either. Generally the guys herding cattle on a drive. Usually they wound up using whatever hapless animal broke a leg by stepping into a gopher hole or was just plain gnarly and unmarketable, often an old steer.
You have to remember that the cows that the cowboys were driving were to be sold and they didn't want to eat the profits up along the way.
Generally today chili aficionados use hamburger meat to make chili but it was unavailable when I went shopping thanks to the food hoarders that have wiped out Walmart and the local supermarkets.
My wife told me that there's been a run on freezers because of this pandemic and I see that people are buying stuff to fill them.
Anyway I bought a couple of hefty sized packages of stew beef and sharpened up my knife and went to work cutting the chunks into pieces about half the size of my little toe which is about right.
Many years ago I was using stew beef and my wife asked me how big the pieces were that I was cutting. I told her they were about half the size of my little toe. She asked me why they were not the size of HER little toe and I said because I was the one doing the cooking. I remember this well because it was one of the first time I held my tongue.
My knee jerk reply was probably something like "Because I'm not a bigfoot." She isn't, either but an answer like that would probably get most of us into trouble because most women do not share the same sense of humor men do. As proof I use the Three Stooges or Groucho Marx which woman almost universally hate but I digress.
Anyway you brown the meat, fry up the onions and peppers, add tomatoes and put in enough beans to suit. You add the spices you want as you go along and then let the whole mess simmer for a while and you call it good.
You have to remember that this stuff is to be eaten as a basic meal. You don't have to turn it into some kind of fire if you don't want. I figure the banana peppers, a couple of envelopes of taco seasoning and a healthy dallop of Tabasco sauce is about enough but that's just my preference. I have pretty much a garbage gut to begin with. If you are one of those people that have a delicate digestive system it's OK to skip some of the seasoning. If you are a fire-eater have at it and load the thing up.
In this case I didn't have a skillet to make a batch of this size. I want to freeze most of it in sandwich sized Rubbermaid containers so I can thaw it out and eat it at my leisure. I don't want to eat chili day in and day out until it's gone. The containers are a pretty good sized unit for portion control.
What I did with this batch is brown the meat in the skillet and then dump it into the crock pot. I did the same with the onion and pepper mix which was pretty hefty. I had a humongous onion and a big handful of peppers to get rid of so according to the Official Saddle Tramp Recipe book I simply threw it all into the pot.
Page 14, Article 2, Amendment 8 subsection B, clause B-4 says specifically that it is an acceptable thing to do under the chapter for Chuck Wagon cooks. It says specifically 'In the event one has too much onion of too many peppers just throw the damned things into the wretched mess because most likely even the pickiest cowboy will be too tired to notice and even if he does he probably won't care'.
Anyway I got a few things to do and I can get a few things done so I figure I'll let the entire thing chug away in the crock pot for a while. After that I may even put it in the refrigerator overnight and reheat it in the morning because things like this are generally better after a night in the reefer and a reheat. Spaghetti sauce is like that. It's generally best at the second or third reheat.
Anyway, it's a simple meal for simple tastes.
I don't hide the fact that trying to impress me by taking me to a fancy place for dinner does not work. It is a waste of your time and money. I am not impressed. If you really want to impress me then take me to a good greasy spoon where I can check out the meat loaf.
On the other hand, I do like good hooch.
It looks like I'll dish this batch up and freeze it tomorrow. I've made enough mistakes today and it'll probably wind up being better if I do it that way.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Tuesday, April 28, 2020
I ordered something from a place the 5th of April
and it hasn't shown up yet.
It was a hat with a built in face shield and it was recommended by someone I know. They said it shipped pretty fast. It probably did.
My guess is that they had them in stock when my friend ordered it and they shipped it right out. Then they ran out of them in their stateside warehouse and decided to have the maker in China drop ship it from China.
First of all if I knew it was made in China I would not have bought it. Secondly they should have at least let me know they were going to do this and given me the opportunity to decide if I wanted to wait or just cancel the order.
But no. They has to be wise guys and grab the money when they could instead of letting me know what is going on.
The tracking number they gave me was from some Chinese based outfit and it says the package arrived in New York some time ago and was shipped to California. It is supposed to be handed off to the USPS and they say it hasn't arrived in their hands yet.
They think they are smart doing this but they really are not. Because of their lack of informing me as to what they had planned and letting me make my own decision I will never do business with them again.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
It was a hat with a built in face shield and it was recommended by someone I know. They said it shipped pretty fast. It probably did.
My guess is that they had them in stock when my friend ordered it and they shipped it right out. Then they ran out of them in their stateside warehouse and decided to have the maker in China drop ship it from China.
First of all if I knew it was made in China I would not have bought it. Secondly they should have at least let me know they were going to do this and given me the opportunity to decide if I wanted to wait or just cancel the order.
But no. They has to be wise guys and grab the money when they could instead of letting me know what is going on.
The tracking number they gave me was from some Chinese based outfit and it says the package arrived in New York some time ago and was shipped to California. It is supposed to be handed off to the USPS and they say it hasn't arrived in their hands yet.
They think they are smart doing this but they really are not. Because of their lack of informing me as to what they had planned and letting me make my own decision I will never do business with them again.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Monday, April 27, 2020
If you want to learn how to govern effectively
you might look at the history of a mob boss that died of old age.
When you think about it a mob boss actually manages to govern his mob at the will of his underlings. If they decide that he's not being fair to them they generally whack him. They don't play by the same rule book the rest of us play by.
You have to be pretty sharp to run a mob outfit and die of old age.
You have to run a successful outfit and make enough money to meet payroll every time. You have to take care of your people, and their families. The list a mob boss has to do to be successful is pretty much endless. On top of that they don't have a police force to back them up. In fact the police are out to get you.
When I look at government I often think it's too bad the rest of us don't play by the mob rule book. It would certainly change the attitude of Congress rather quickly.
When the penalty for failure is waking up in cement overshoes on a sea bottom one's attitude takes a pretty sharp turn.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
When you think about it a mob boss actually manages to govern his mob at the will of his underlings. If they decide that he's not being fair to them they generally whack him. They don't play by the same rule book the rest of us play by.
You have to be pretty sharp to run a mob outfit and die of old age.
You have to run a successful outfit and make enough money to meet payroll every time. You have to take care of your people, and their families. The list a mob boss has to do to be successful is pretty much endless. On top of that they don't have a police force to back them up. In fact the police are out to get you.
When I look at government I often think it's too bad the rest of us don't play by the mob rule book. It would certainly change the attitude of Congress rather quickly.
When the penalty for failure is waking up in cement overshoes on a sea bottom one's attitude takes a pretty sharp turn.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Sunday, April 26, 2020
Last night's ham net was a circus as to be expected
When I announced on a ham board that I was going to run an emergency communications drill and net using 30 watts and a wire in a tree a number of eyes rolled.
Net controls are generally run by the guy with the most powerful rig in the group. It's a world of tall towers, rotating Yagi beam antennas and 1.5 KW linear amplifiers.
It is definitely NOT a world of 30 watts and a wire thrown over a tree.
Of course when I announced this a number of the guys said, "Hold my beer. I'm running 20 watts and a wire in a tree. Betcha I can check in by hook or by crook!"
At least three of them did this successfully, one was running only 10 watts. I also had a brief chat with a guy well over 500 miles away that ran 20 watts and had a hasty antenna hanging from a tree or something.
We had almost 30 check-ins and had a great time.
Now I said I was net control and I was. How I managed that was that I would appoint alternates to help out and forward call signs and other pertinent information.
The guys are pretty sharp and enthusiastic and what seemed to be bedlam and chaos actually had a certain order to it.
Because I knew there were going to be several QRP stations trying to check in I started things a little differently.
Instead of reading the usual preamble and explaining what the net was all about, I just threw out my call sign and said, "Alms! Alms! Alms for the poor! All cripples, dwarfs, lepers and QRP stations please check in!"
And someone did and it grew from there.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Net controls are generally run by the guy with the most powerful rig in the group. It's a world of tall towers, rotating Yagi beam antennas and 1.5 KW linear amplifiers.
It is definitely NOT a world of 30 watts and a wire thrown over a tree.
Of course when I announced this a number of the guys said, "Hold my beer. I'm running 20 watts and a wire in a tree. Betcha I can check in by hook or by crook!"
At least three of them did this successfully, one was running only 10 watts. I also had a brief chat with a guy well over 500 miles away that ran 20 watts and had a hasty antenna hanging from a tree or something.
We had almost 30 check-ins and had a great time.
Now I said I was net control and I was. How I managed that was that I would appoint alternates to help out and forward call signs and other pertinent information.
The guys are pretty sharp and enthusiastic and what seemed to be bedlam and chaos actually had a certain order to it.
Because I knew there were going to be several QRP stations trying to check in I started things a little differently.
Instead of reading the usual preamble and explaining what the net was all about, I just threw out my call sign and said, "Alms! Alms! Alms for the poor! All cripples, dwarfs, lepers and QRP stations please check in!"
And someone did and it grew from there.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Saturday, April 25, 2020
I have not seen my old buddy the cop for a while.
The first time we met I was on the front lawn gardening and he had been sent to investigate a man reported to be giving children hard liquor. He was quite amused to find out the child in question had actually been seen drinking iced tea out of a Jim Beam bottle.
I use the Beam bottle to hold iced tea sometimes when I garden.
That was many moons ago.
I have run into him from time to time at various places. He's a pretty good cop and is still serving although he could have retired some time ago. He actually likes people and I would imagine since he became eligible for retirement he is more relaxed on the job.
This Corona virus situation has made a lot of us tend to avoid most human contact and it really sucks. I'd like to run into him again because he is a character. One time he witnessed some chaos at the coffee stand. The offended party that has actually started the ruckus looked to the cop for help and the officer simply replied, "I'm not getting in the middle of that!"
When things settled down a bit I quietly told him that it he got into a bind he could cuff me and stuff me and take me around the corner and drop me off if it would placate some idiot.
He chuckled when I said that.
He was in the convenience store when I wandered in cheerfully. A woman asked me why I was so cheerful and I told her "I just got outta the joint!"
I saw the cop out of the corner of my eye and he was quite amused. I also saw his eyes roll when the dumb woman asked me what I had done to be sent to prison. When I told her that some nosy woman had asked me too many nosy questions and I had stuck her in the ear with an ice pick, he looked quite amused and put his two cents worth in.
He told the woman he had been the arresting officer to the amusement of a number of clerks and locals.
That's the kind of guy you miss.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
I use the Beam bottle to hold iced tea sometimes when I garden.
That was many moons ago.
I have run into him from time to time at various places. He's a pretty good cop and is still serving although he could have retired some time ago. He actually likes people and I would imagine since he became eligible for retirement he is more relaxed on the job.
This Corona virus situation has made a lot of us tend to avoid most human contact and it really sucks. I'd like to run into him again because he is a character. One time he witnessed some chaos at the coffee stand. The offended party that has actually started the ruckus looked to the cop for help and the officer simply replied, "I'm not getting in the middle of that!"
When things settled down a bit I quietly told him that it he got into a bind he could cuff me and stuff me and take me around the corner and drop me off if it would placate some idiot.
He chuckled when I said that.
He was in the convenience store when I wandered in cheerfully. A woman asked me why I was so cheerful and I told her "I just got outta the joint!"
I saw the cop out of the corner of my eye and he was quite amused. I also saw his eyes roll when the dumb woman asked me what I had done to be sent to prison. When I told her that some nosy woman had asked me too many nosy questions and I had stuck her in the ear with an ice pick, he looked quite amused and put his two cents worth in.
He told the woman he had been the arresting officer to the amusement of a number of clerks and locals.
That's the kind of guy you miss.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Friday, April 24, 2020
What a pain in the neck!
Yesterday I grabbed a piece of wire to use as a 'wire in a tree' antenna for a PRC 320.
Strangely enough I got the perfect length that would not tune up an any ham band. It was a major exercise in frustration until I figured out what had probably happened. I was smart enough to give up after a while and I went into the junk box. I grabbed a female coax connector and soldered a pair of leads on it and plugged it into the '320. Then I plugged my long unused end fed antenna in and BINGO! I'm good to go.
Needless to say I picked a day with lousy propagation and the 40 meter band that I was planning on working was dead, dead, dead.
If at first you don't succeed... Finally I made a QSO. Interestingly enough, I got a 5x8 into Wisconsin.
I am supposed to run net control Saturday evening with the PRC 320 which would make and self-respecting ham cringe but that's part of the game.
I am going to run a relay net and specifically do NOT want to be able to talk to everyone. Many of us are breaking out QRP (reduced power) rigs and/or running portable where possible. It's kind of a Max Max scenario net.
From time to time I organize an emergency communications drill with a group of hams and I do try to make things challenging. There is generally a message that is sent out and requires a reply.
It drills don't usually last too long because the guys are getting pretty good at passing the word. I remember one of these where a guy in New Hampshire started by sending the first half of the message. I got it almost instantly because I heard it being repeated.
Inside of two or three minutes I had the reply also. The station that made the reply was in Hawaii!
Inside about 15 minutes all of the participants had the entire message including a couple of non hams that were listening o shortwave receivers.
That's not bad.
The best part of these is the first couple of minutes where everything is bedlam and chaos and inside a very short time a certain order emerges and the guys start slowing down and being a little more patient.
They go from a terribly disorganized rabble to a pretty professional net in just a few minutes. It's kind of cool to watch.
I have done this several times before and what I am seeing is the guys are experimenting a little. Some of them are intentionally handicapping themselves by running QRP rigs or experimental antennas and that sort of thing.
When I first started this everyone felt that if they didn't make personal contact with net control they were a failure when nothing could be further from the truth. It's all about sending and receiving a message.
You get credit for being a check in if twelve people route one's call sign through Outer Slobovia. It doesn't matter.
Of course if one does directly contact net control they are listed as both a bona fide QSO AND a check in.
It's great seeing the guys decide to take chances and run experimental stuff and it ought to be an interesting evening.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Strangely enough I got the perfect length that would not tune up an any ham band. It was a major exercise in frustration until I figured out what had probably happened. I was smart enough to give up after a while and I went into the junk box. I grabbed a female coax connector and soldered a pair of leads on it and plugged it into the '320. Then I plugged my long unused end fed antenna in and BINGO! I'm good to go.
Needless to say I picked a day with lousy propagation and the 40 meter band that I was planning on working was dead, dead, dead.
If at first you don't succeed... Finally I made a QSO. Interestingly enough, I got a 5x8 into Wisconsin.
I am supposed to run net control Saturday evening with the PRC 320 which would make and self-respecting ham cringe but that's part of the game.
I am going to run a relay net and specifically do NOT want to be able to talk to everyone. Many of us are breaking out QRP (reduced power) rigs and/or running portable where possible. It's kind of a Max Max scenario net.
From time to time I organize an emergency communications drill with a group of hams and I do try to make things challenging. There is generally a message that is sent out and requires a reply.
It drills don't usually last too long because the guys are getting pretty good at passing the word. I remember one of these where a guy in New Hampshire started by sending the first half of the message. I got it almost instantly because I heard it being repeated.
Inside of two or three minutes I had the reply also. The station that made the reply was in Hawaii!
Inside about 15 minutes all of the participants had the entire message including a couple of non hams that were listening o shortwave receivers.
That's not bad.
The best part of these is the first couple of minutes where everything is bedlam and chaos and inside a very short time a certain order emerges and the guys start slowing down and being a little more patient.
They go from a terribly disorganized rabble to a pretty professional net in just a few minutes. It's kind of cool to watch.
I have done this several times before and what I am seeing is the guys are experimenting a little. Some of them are intentionally handicapping themselves by running QRP rigs or experimental antennas and that sort of thing.
When I first started this everyone felt that if they didn't make personal contact with net control they were a failure when nothing could be further from the truth. It's all about sending and receiving a message.
You get credit for being a check in if twelve people route one's call sign through Outer Slobovia. It doesn't matter.
Of course if one does directly contact net control they are listed as both a bona fide QSO AND a check in.
It's great seeing the guys decide to take chances and run experimental stuff and it ought to be an interesting evening.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
I'm making a few extra bucks on the side during the Pandemic.
With the unavailability of N 95 masks I have been using a shemagh to cover my face. It's a trick I learned from a couple of GIs that served in either Afghanistan or Iraq.
You put it on and it gives a pretty good face covering and if you add a pair of sunglasses you are virtually unrecognizable although you can pull the hood part down and wear a hat with it. It still covers most of your face, including your mouth and nose. It's great for sticking up convenience stores and places like that. Too bad the liquor stores are not open because I could also snag a bottle or two on the way out in addition to the cash.
Actually the trick is to learn to apply Arabic eyes makeup and skip the sunglasses. I went the makeup route and after 26 consecutive stickups the cops are looking for an Arabic woman.
Hey, times are hard!
I would love to post this on the Next Door website but the idiotic Karens there would complain to the management and I'd get another time out.
Then again I imagine that at least one sharp woman there has enough of a sarcastic sense of humor to offer me a few makeup tips.
88888888888888888888888
In other gnus I was out driving today and saw some guy washing his car. I pulled up and told him that Governor Wolfe would be pretty angry with him for not wearing a mask while being outside.
He looked at me and instantly got pretty angry. Then he saw I had no mask on as I was in my pickup and asked me where MY mask was.
I looked at him and with a big grin said that I guess Governor Wolfe would probably be mad at both of is. My tone of voice just OOZED of sarcasm.
He asked me if I have been a wise ass for my whole life and I told him that figuring that I learned to talk semi coherently at about a year old that I have not been a smart ass my whole life, only the past 67 years.
Then he did something I do not think he has done in years. HE gave me a smart assed answer. He told me that if we both get thrown into jail he hoped his cell would be next to mine.
I drove off knowing I made his day a little better.
*************************
A younger co worker recently brought up the subject of tipping.
I looked at him and told him "Every time I get arrested I always tip the cop $3 if he hold the door and makes sure I don't hit my head on the car roof."
My shipmate piped up. "Three bucks sounds about right. That's what I always give him."
"Really?" asked the kid and when I heard that I knew we had him.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
You put it on and it gives a pretty good face covering and if you add a pair of sunglasses you are virtually unrecognizable although you can pull the hood part down and wear a hat with it. It still covers most of your face, including your mouth and nose. It's great for sticking up convenience stores and places like that. Too bad the liquor stores are not open because I could also snag a bottle or two on the way out in addition to the cash.
Actually the trick is to learn to apply Arabic eyes makeup and skip the sunglasses. I went the makeup route and after 26 consecutive stickups the cops are looking for an Arabic woman.
Hey, times are hard!
I would love to post this on the Next Door website but the idiotic Karens there would complain to the management and I'd get another time out.
Then again I imagine that at least one sharp woman there has enough of a sarcastic sense of humor to offer me a few makeup tips.
88888888888888888888888
In other gnus I was out driving today and saw some guy washing his car. I pulled up and told him that Governor Wolfe would be pretty angry with him for not wearing a mask while being outside.
He looked at me and instantly got pretty angry. Then he saw I had no mask on as I was in my pickup and asked me where MY mask was.
I looked at him and with a big grin said that I guess Governor Wolfe would probably be mad at both of is. My tone of voice just OOZED of sarcasm.
He asked me if I have been a wise ass for my whole life and I told him that figuring that I learned to talk semi coherently at about a year old that I have not been a smart ass my whole life, only the past 67 years.
Then he did something I do not think he has done in years. HE gave me a smart assed answer. He told me that if we both get thrown into jail he hoped his cell would be next to mine.
I drove off knowing I made his day a little better.
*************************
A younger co worker recently brought up the subject of tipping.
I looked at him and told him "Every time I get arrested I always tip the cop $3 if he hold the door and makes sure I don't hit my head on the car roof."
My shipmate piped up. "Three bucks sounds about right. That's what I always give him."
"Really?" asked the kid and when I heard that I knew we had him.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Thursday, April 23, 2020
Karens are doing a wonderful job of destroying a constitutional republic.
With apologies to all good women that happen to share the name 'Karen'.
Karens are nothing more than sheltered suburban women that have little true life experience and think with their emotions. They have no real practical sense of the world around them. They also don't understand the concept of liberty unless it is their liberty that is being discussed. Common sense is absolutely out of the question.
Let's look at a simple situation. Most house fires start in the kitchen. Install a fire extinguisher in the obscure corner of Karen's house and explain to her that it is a piece of emergency gear that can save the entire house or even her life and plan on having to remove it. The protest of said fire extinguisher will be the usual reasoning.
"But it's ugly!"
I'll digress here. Once I had a girlfriend that threw out my beloved flight jacket. When I went looking for it she told me it was ugly so she threw it in the dumpster.
I threw her over my shoulder and took her up to the end of the pier and said, "You're ugly, too." and threw her in the dumpster and said I wasn't letting her out until she gave me my jacket.
She threw it out of the dumpster and I put it on and walked away.
I guess that ended that.
She did take the issue to the bar and attempt to have me tried by the court of public opinion but that proved to be another fail. She lost by about a 2/3s majority.
Of course there is always the 1/3 that sides with the woman no matter what. That is to be expected.
What stunned me is that a small handful of women thought I should have beaten her senseless and left her face down on the pier. Still, the general consensus among the womanfolk is that I had acted appropriately.
One of them was shocked when she was told about it. She replied "You threw his TRADEMARK jacket in the dumpster? He LOVES that jacket! You're lucky he didn't kill you!"
Needless to say she tried defending herself. "But it's ugly!"
She didn't get far. "Maybe he thought YOU were ugly so he threw you in the dumpster!" the woman shot back.
Anyway that's a big part of Karens. In their never ending battle to make ugliness go away they are destroying the very heart and soul of the bill of rights.
They want safety. They want security and they lack the confidence and are either too lazy or stupid to do the work required to achieve any. They are willing to throw the entire Bill of Rights down the crapper to achieve the false sense of security that it will give them.
They demand gun free zones and safe spaces for their children and unwittingly set their kids up to be put at the mercy of whatever whack job decides that he is going to ignore their meaningless signs.
Actually what they have done is create an excellent undefended kill zone for any lunatic that wants to take advantage of it.
When you ask a Karen who supplies her security you will get a confused deer in the headlights look and she will tell you that the police supply her security. Explain to her that when seconds count the police are minutes away and she gets confused.
She is convinced that the police will come to the rescue. What she doesn't realize that the only group that seems to show up in the nick of time (and ONLY in the nick of time) is the US Cavalry. Never in the history of the American motion picture industry has the US Cavalry ever showed up too late.
Of course this isn't a movie. She doesn't realize that the police really don't prevent a lot of crime. They simply pick up the pieces.
Karen simply refuses to take responsibility for herself and her brood. She passes the responsibility off to others, mainly government agencies of one sort or the other. To her a gun is like a fire extinguisher. It's ugly.
They scream for an assault on our rights to free speech because they think some speech is ugly yet seem to forget that they are not the ugly police. Of course they hide this under the guise of calling it 'Hate Speech'. It's not their place to judge what speech is ugly and what isn't. They seem to forget that to a lot of us the ugliest speech in the world is someone advocating that We, the People give up our rights. Yet that kind of hate speech pours from their mouths.
Karen only thinks about herself.
On the next door website I saw a group of Karens wanting to outlaw on-street parking in the township. The problem they said was they have to maneuver. This entails turning a steering wheel a few degrees and maybe slowing down a bit.
They fail to consider that in the general neighborhood the driveways for the most part hold two cars for the two car family. They forget that older children come home from college and need a place to park. Life isn't magic. You can't fit three or four cars in a two car driveway and you can't make them magically disappear.
Of course, some neighborhoods park on the street intentionally just to make people like Karen slow down a bit. The same Karen that will screech about someone driving too fast on HER street will carelessly thunder down SOMEONE ELSE'S. No wonder people park on street to slow the Karens of the world down.
Needless to say the Karens have already successfully gotten parking on one's lawn outlawed. I suppose that in time Karen will have to deal with her brood parking on the street and when they get ticketed she will be the first to run down to the police station and want to talk to the chief. After all, the rules she wants to put on the restof us don't apply to her...or so she thinks.
After all, Karen ALWAYS wants to talk to the manager if she doesn't get her way. If the item on sale is sold out because she waited until the last day of the sale then Karen want's to know why. Some stock clerk or cashier isn't going to give her satisfaction and she know that. She wants to speak to the manager. (Then there is Super Karen. She wants to speak to the district manager.)
Needless to say, the manager is probably going to tell her what the stock boy told her. The item in question sold out halfway through the second day of the three day sale. It had been advertised that sales were limited to what was in stock and no rain checks.
Karen will also hold up the line to argue with a cashier over taking an expired coupon. If you are behind her grab a snack. You're going to be there a while. Karen is also the one that will stand in a long line and when she gets to the front of it will then start trying to figure out what she wants. Again, you're going to be a while.
For Karen it's all about Karen. It would be a damned shame if she had to, say slow down a bit and turn a steering wheel a couple of degrees.
There really is a solution of sorts here. Simply sound off. Don't be afraid to speak up and say, "Hey, Karen! We ain't got all day!"
I have and it works. You embarrass the hell out of these people every chance you get. Tell them to get a life.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Karens are nothing more than sheltered suburban women that have little true life experience and think with their emotions. They have no real practical sense of the world around them. They also don't understand the concept of liberty unless it is their liberty that is being discussed. Common sense is absolutely out of the question.
Let's look at a simple situation. Most house fires start in the kitchen. Install a fire extinguisher in the obscure corner of Karen's house and explain to her that it is a piece of emergency gear that can save the entire house or even her life and plan on having to remove it. The protest of said fire extinguisher will be the usual reasoning.
"But it's ugly!"
I'll digress here. Once I had a girlfriend that threw out my beloved flight jacket. When I went looking for it she told me it was ugly so she threw it in the dumpster.
I threw her over my shoulder and took her up to the end of the pier and said, "You're ugly, too." and threw her in the dumpster and said I wasn't letting her out until she gave me my jacket.
She threw it out of the dumpster and I put it on and walked away.
I guess that ended that.
She did take the issue to the bar and attempt to have me tried by the court of public opinion but that proved to be another fail. She lost by about a 2/3s majority.
Of course there is always the 1/3 that sides with the woman no matter what. That is to be expected.
What stunned me is that a small handful of women thought I should have beaten her senseless and left her face down on the pier. Still, the general consensus among the womanfolk is that I had acted appropriately.
One of them was shocked when she was told about it. She replied "You threw his TRADEMARK jacket in the dumpster? He LOVES that jacket! You're lucky he didn't kill you!"
Needless to say she tried defending herself. "But it's ugly!"
She didn't get far. "Maybe he thought YOU were ugly so he threw you in the dumpster!" the woman shot back.
Anyway that's a big part of Karens. In their never ending battle to make ugliness go away they are destroying the very heart and soul of the bill of rights.
They want safety. They want security and they lack the confidence and are either too lazy or stupid to do the work required to achieve any. They are willing to throw the entire Bill of Rights down the crapper to achieve the false sense of security that it will give them.
They demand gun free zones and safe spaces for their children and unwittingly set their kids up to be put at the mercy of whatever whack job decides that he is going to ignore their meaningless signs.
Actually what they have done is create an excellent undefended kill zone for any lunatic that wants to take advantage of it.
When you ask a Karen who supplies her security you will get a confused deer in the headlights look and she will tell you that the police supply her security. Explain to her that when seconds count the police are minutes away and she gets confused.
She is convinced that the police will come to the rescue. What she doesn't realize that the only group that seems to show up in the nick of time (and ONLY in the nick of time) is the US Cavalry. Never in the history of the American motion picture industry has the US Cavalry ever showed up too late.
Of course this isn't a movie. She doesn't realize that the police really don't prevent a lot of crime. They simply pick up the pieces.
Karen simply refuses to take responsibility for herself and her brood. She passes the responsibility off to others, mainly government agencies of one sort or the other. To her a gun is like a fire extinguisher. It's ugly.
They scream for an assault on our rights to free speech because they think some speech is ugly yet seem to forget that they are not the ugly police. Of course they hide this under the guise of calling it 'Hate Speech'. It's not their place to judge what speech is ugly and what isn't. They seem to forget that to a lot of us the ugliest speech in the world is someone advocating that We, the People give up our rights. Yet that kind of hate speech pours from their mouths.
Karen only thinks about herself.
On the next door website I saw a group of Karens wanting to outlaw on-street parking in the township. The problem they said was they have to maneuver. This entails turning a steering wheel a few degrees and maybe slowing down a bit.
They fail to consider that in the general neighborhood the driveways for the most part hold two cars for the two car family. They forget that older children come home from college and need a place to park. Life isn't magic. You can't fit three or four cars in a two car driveway and you can't make them magically disappear.
Of course, some neighborhoods park on the street intentionally just to make people like Karen slow down a bit. The same Karen that will screech about someone driving too fast on HER street will carelessly thunder down SOMEONE ELSE'S. No wonder people park on street to slow the Karens of the world down.
Needless to say the Karens have already successfully gotten parking on one's lawn outlawed. I suppose that in time Karen will have to deal with her brood parking on the street and when they get ticketed she will be the first to run down to the police station and want to talk to the chief. After all, the rules she wants to put on the restof us don't apply to her...or so she thinks.
After all, Karen ALWAYS wants to talk to the manager if she doesn't get her way. If the item on sale is sold out because she waited until the last day of the sale then Karen want's to know why. Some stock clerk or cashier isn't going to give her satisfaction and she know that. She wants to speak to the manager. (Then there is Super Karen. She wants to speak to the district manager.)
Needless to say, the manager is probably going to tell her what the stock boy told her. The item in question sold out halfway through the second day of the three day sale. It had been advertised that sales were limited to what was in stock and no rain checks.
Karen will also hold up the line to argue with a cashier over taking an expired coupon. If you are behind her grab a snack. You're going to be there a while. Karen is also the one that will stand in a long line and when she gets to the front of it will then start trying to figure out what she wants. Again, you're going to be a while.
For Karen it's all about Karen. It would be a damned shame if she had to, say slow down a bit and turn a steering wheel a couple of degrees.
There really is a solution of sorts here. Simply sound off. Don't be afraid to speak up and say, "Hey, Karen! We ain't got all day!"
I have and it works. You embarrass the hell out of these people every chance you get. Tell them to get a life.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Wednesday, April 22, 2020
Ahh, yes. How do these people manage to social distance?
Ever since the COVID pandemic started up I have wondered how things were going to go for certain people in the business of human contact of any sort.
There are businesses out there that rely on being able to touch and feel other human beings. The medical field is the big one that comes to mind. There are also hair cutters, nail people, legitimate massage people and others.
I have seen the medical people rush to utilize various pieces of PPE to protect themselves. I have over time seen manicurists wearing face masks while they work on fingernails. I suppose when thing change and we restart businesses we will see barbers wearing masks, too.
Still, there are a few trades out there where PPE against COVID is really not much of an option.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Tuesday, April 21, 2020
Tyranny.
the longer I live the more tyranny I see.
When I see that the people that write and enact out laws are exempt from them that's tyranny. The first thing that comes to mind here is the fact that congress critters are exempt from insider trading laws. They can make fortunes investing in companies that get government contracts but if I find out about what companies Congress is giving a contract to and invest I go to jail. Ask Martha Stewart about that one.
Congress should be made to obey the laws they put on the rest of us. It's that simple.
We have drunk driving laws here and there are a few people that think it's stupid. Actually it really isn't. There are victims of drunk drivers. They kill people and damage property. I don't want to get into the argument with those that say it is OK to drive drunk.
For sake of argument it isn't OK to drive when someone is incapacitated. The key to this is driving drunk and on a public thoroughfare.
Yet some poor bastard got a DUI for mowing his front lawn on a sit down mower. Another sad sack got popped for being responsible and sacking out on the back seat of his car. That's not liberty or justice. That's tyranny.
Laws are not supposed to generate revenue. Fines are supposed to punish honest anti social behavior.
As I sit here in the middle of a pandemic I can certainly understand that government is trying to protect us from the idiots out there that don't know any better and think it is all about them. I am not going to speak about shutting things down at all. What I am going to do is look at things from the proper perspective. Before you can outlaw a behavior it has to be dangerous.
There is nothing whatsoever dangerous about attending a drive in religious service where you sit there listening to the service electronically in your automobile with the windows rolled up. There is no danger at all to society. The participants have been issued $500 tickets. That's tyranny.
One state had forbidden its residents to go fishing. Fishing is generally a solo sport and takes a person outdoors where they will do themselves more good than hanging around inside. There is no way a person can spread or contract the disease while alone and fishing. Yet a governor had banned it. That's tyranny.
People in some places are being hassled for walking their dogs in suburban settings while creating no danger of spreading the disease. That's tyranny.
I won't even get into the tyranny taking place in Virginia over the Second Amendment. I see us sliding into a bad place in our history...and fast.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
When I see that the people that write and enact out laws are exempt from them that's tyranny. The first thing that comes to mind here is the fact that congress critters are exempt from insider trading laws. They can make fortunes investing in companies that get government contracts but if I find out about what companies Congress is giving a contract to and invest I go to jail. Ask Martha Stewart about that one.
Congress should be made to obey the laws they put on the rest of us. It's that simple.
We have drunk driving laws here and there are a few people that think it's stupid. Actually it really isn't. There are victims of drunk drivers. They kill people and damage property. I don't want to get into the argument with those that say it is OK to drive drunk.
For sake of argument it isn't OK to drive when someone is incapacitated. The key to this is driving drunk and on a public thoroughfare.
Yet some poor bastard got a DUI for mowing his front lawn on a sit down mower. Another sad sack got popped for being responsible and sacking out on the back seat of his car. That's not liberty or justice. That's tyranny.
Laws are not supposed to generate revenue. Fines are supposed to punish honest anti social behavior.
As I sit here in the middle of a pandemic I can certainly understand that government is trying to protect us from the idiots out there that don't know any better and think it is all about them. I am not going to speak about shutting things down at all. What I am going to do is look at things from the proper perspective. Before you can outlaw a behavior it has to be dangerous.
There is nothing whatsoever dangerous about attending a drive in religious service where you sit there listening to the service electronically in your automobile with the windows rolled up. There is no danger at all to society. The participants have been issued $500 tickets. That's tyranny.
One state had forbidden its residents to go fishing. Fishing is generally a solo sport and takes a person outdoors where they will do themselves more good than hanging around inside. There is no way a person can spread or contract the disease while alone and fishing. Yet a governor had banned it. That's tyranny.
People in some places are being hassled for walking their dogs in suburban settings while creating no danger of spreading the disease. That's tyranny.
I won't even get into the tyranny taking place in Virginia over the Second Amendment. I see us sliding into a bad place in our history...and fast.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Back when I was a kid living at home what was fun was
to teach very small children very big words.
There is nothing funnier than a toddler under the age of two that can say words like deoxyribonucleic acid or chrono synclastic infindibulation.
I remember doing this to a friends kid brother when he was small. It was hilarious watching the little guy's parents wonder where he heard it and how he was able to repeat it. His big brother and I worked with this kid for some time teaching him big words.
Actually the results of this were pretty good. It was very entertaining watching his mother tell her husband to watch his language because it was a sure thing the kid would pick up an profanity he used.
Of course the first thing we thought of when he heard his mother say that to her husband was that we should turn the little precocious boy into a foul mouthed sailor but we didn't because his father would be blamed and he was a really cool guy.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
There is nothing funnier than a toddler under the age of two that can say words like deoxyribonucleic acid or chrono synclastic infindibulation.
I remember doing this to a friends kid brother when he was small. It was hilarious watching the little guy's parents wonder where he heard it and how he was able to repeat it. His big brother and I worked with this kid for some time teaching him big words.
Actually the results of this were pretty good. It was very entertaining watching his mother tell her husband to watch his language because it was a sure thing the kid would pick up an profanity he used.
Of course the first thing we thought of when he heard his mother say that to her husband was that we should turn the little precocious boy into a foul mouthed sailor but we didn't because his father would be blamed and he was a really cool guy.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
I now wear a shemagh around town because it works.
With the Chinese virus still running around and the supply chain of N 95 masks not particularly reliable yet I figure it's time to take a trip from the troops.
Before the outbreak back in January I had one of the recent returnees from Afghanistan show me how to put on a shemagh and I picked a couple of them up on eBay. They work and it is easy to breathe through them.
I have a couple of them, three actually. A black and white one, a desert colored one and for the hell of it I bought one in fuchsia and black.
I'll leave the fuchsia one at home for a while because I have plans for that one. I'm going to get a certain lady I know to give me an Arabic eyes makeup job before I wear it when I start sticking up convenience stores. That way the cops will be looking for a woman.
Hey, times are hard. I can use a few extra bucks.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Before the outbreak back in January I had one of the recent returnees from Afghanistan show me how to put on a shemagh and I picked a couple of them up on eBay. They work and it is easy to breathe through them.
I have a couple of them, three actually. A black and white one, a desert colored one and for the hell of it I bought one in fuchsia and black.
I'll leave the fuchsia one at home for a while because I have plans for that one. I'm going to get a certain lady I know to give me an Arabic eyes makeup job before I wear it when I start sticking up convenience stores. That way the cops will be looking for a woman.
Hey, times are hard. I can use a few extra bucks.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Sunday, April 19, 2020
There are AA batteries, AAA batteries, C-cells and D-cells
I just heard someone ask why there are no B-cells. Did the battery companies skip B-cells for some reason?
The reason you don't see them anymore is because they are not needed anymore. They were designed to provide higher voltage for portable radios to run the vacuum tubes.
My mother had a 40s portable radio, a Zenith and it was normally used plugged into the wall. However I remember a couple of times when I was little she would put batteries in it and take it to the beach with us. I remember her putting a couple of large batteries in it that she called 'B batteries'. They were expensive then and didn't last very long. She wanted to listen to something important when we went to the beach. I don't remember what but I do remember that when we got home she carefully removed the batteries and carefully stored them somewhere.
Of course they have not made B batteries in decades but they did.
The event of the transistor radio brought it to a halt.
And now you know about B batteries.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
The reason you don't see them anymore is because they are not needed anymore. They were designed to provide higher voltage for portable radios to run the vacuum tubes.
My mother had a 40s portable radio, a Zenith and it was normally used plugged into the wall. However I remember a couple of times when I was little she would put batteries in it and take it to the beach with us. I remember her putting a couple of large batteries in it that she called 'B batteries'. They were expensive then and didn't last very long. She wanted to listen to something important when we went to the beach. I don't remember what but I do remember that when we got home she carefully removed the batteries and carefully stored them somewhere.
Of course they have not made B batteries in decades but they did.
The event of the transistor radio brought it to a halt.
And now you know about B batteries.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Saturday, April 18, 2020
The dream came back and I managed to win.
I have had this recurring dream for years where somehow I save New York. How I save the city I never seem to know, but my pickup gets destroyed in the process.
Of course the mayor wants a big photo op and a big to-do.
I just want my pickup replaced. Just like the one that got destroyed.
Now my pickup is a 4 cylinder manual transmission basic model. It has roll up windows. I bought it that way because I like things that way. I like simple machinery.
I want my damned truck replaced and that is all I want. Just my damned 4 cylinder manual transmission small pickup.
Well, I am up on stage surrounded my the media as the mayor gives me the key to the city and they unveil this $125,000 behemoth.
I take one look at it and say in front of God and everybody, "I don't want that damned thing. I just want my little pickup replaced with what I had."
The mayor looks stunned and I blow up again. "I told you specifically I didn't want some monster truck. I can't afford to run it, insure it or keep it in repairs. I'm a simple fuckin' sailor and I am what I am. Keep that stupid behemoth. I'll walk home."
The mayor loses it and calls me an ingrate.
I shot back "If you had any understanding or any compassion at all for the basic working stiff you wouldn't be trying to palm off a white elephant like that on him. Some of us live responsibly."
With that I walk off and out the door.
Now it is an election year and his opponent chases me down and tells me to call a certain member of his staff which I do. We meet the following day and I describe my old truck to him and he takes careful notes.
Then my mouth runs away with me and I tell him about my favorite truck. The one I had in the good old days.
It's about a month later and two weeks before the election when I get a call and I show up at the proper time and place.
The press is there and I have to listen to a bunch of bull$hit about this and that and what a great guy I am and finally they unveil the truck. I am stunned and tears run down my face.
It's a faded powder blue '62 Dodge step side with a slant six, a four speed manual transmission, a bench seat with a manual choke, and a throttle cable. There is a heater but no radio and a gun rack in the rear window. It has been totally rebuilt by some custom shop and is in brand new condition except it doesn't have the new car smell. It has the vague smell like someone spilled a beer in it about a week ago.
I pull the seat forward and there is a brand new sleeping bag folded in behind the seat. Then I look at the floor and see the mats are simply pieces of an old conveyor belt. I peel one up and lo and behold, there are holes carefully placed there suitable for dropping beer cans out. Instead of rust creating the holes they have obviously been carefully placed there by a craftsman.
Now the candidate is smiling big time because he knows he just belted one out of the park. He turns to me and confesses "I don't even know how to start this thing!"
I laugh and hop in and leave the door open so he can watch. I stamp on the gas pedal three times, pull the choke out all the way and turn the key. "Wagh wagh wagh VROOM!" says the truck as it lights off. It's running a little rough. I push the choke in about halfway and explain that it has to warm up a bit before I can take off. It smooths out as I slide the choke in halfway.
A few minutes later the temperature needle lifts off the peg. The choke goes in all the way. I take the candidate around the block and drop him off after giving him my thanks.
An hour or so later I am out of New York on an Interstate headed west. I pull out the throttle and listen to that Slant Six hum and smile all the way home. I am more than quite content.
While I do not drink and drive anymore I make an exception. I pull off the highway and buy a single beer and get back in the road again. I sip the beer and enjoy myself. When the beer is empty I reach down, lift the mat and drop the empty out onto the pavement where it rattles and bangs around. It came out from between the rear wheels of the pickup and any cop behind me just know I couldn't have thrown it out the window. The can just HAD to have either been on the road or been thrown out by the driver of the car ahead of me and been caught in his slipstream.
As I am enjoying myself watching the can rattle around through the rear view mirror I ask myself how many people are going to call me an idiot for not accepting the enormous behemoth and I laugh like hell. They don't have a clue. I am a simple man that likes simple things.
Maybe this will be the end of the recurring dream because this time I came out a BIG winner.
A month later on the news I hear where the candidate that gave me the truck won in a landslide.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Of course the mayor wants a big photo op and a big to-do.
I just want my pickup replaced. Just like the one that got destroyed.
Now my pickup is a 4 cylinder manual transmission basic model. It has roll up windows. I bought it that way because I like things that way. I like simple machinery.
I want my damned truck replaced and that is all I want. Just my damned 4 cylinder manual transmission small pickup.
Well, I am up on stage surrounded my the media as the mayor gives me the key to the city and they unveil this $125,000 behemoth.
I take one look at it and say in front of God and everybody, "I don't want that damned thing. I just want my little pickup replaced with what I had."
The mayor looks stunned and I blow up again. "I told you specifically I didn't want some monster truck. I can't afford to run it, insure it or keep it in repairs. I'm a simple fuckin' sailor and I am what I am. Keep that stupid behemoth. I'll walk home."
The mayor loses it and calls me an ingrate.
I shot back "If you had any understanding or any compassion at all for the basic working stiff you wouldn't be trying to palm off a white elephant like that on him. Some of us live responsibly."
With that I walk off and out the door.
Now it is an election year and his opponent chases me down and tells me to call a certain member of his staff which I do. We meet the following day and I describe my old truck to him and he takes careful notes.
Then my mouth runs away with me and I tell him about my favorite truck. The one I had in the good old days.
It's about a month later and two weeks before the election when I get a call and I show up at the proper time and place.
The press is there and I have to listen to a bunch of bull$hit about this and that and what a great guy I am and finally they unveil the truck. I am stunned and tears run down my face.
It's a faded powder blue '62 Dodge step side with a slant six, a four speed manual transmission, a bench seat with a manual choke, and a throttle cable. There is a heater but no radio and a gun rack in the rear window. It has been totally rebuilt by some custom shop and is in brand new condition except it doesn't have the new car smell. It has the vague smell like someone spilled a beer in it about a week ago.
I pull the seat forward and there is a brand new sleeping bag folded in behind the seat. Then I look at the floor and see the mats are simply pieces of an old conveyor belt. I peel one up and lo and behold, there are holes carefully placed there suitable for dropping beer cans out. Instead of rust creating the holes they have obviously been carefully placed there by a craftsman.
Now the candidate is smiling big time because he knows he just belted one out of the park. He turns to me and confesses "I don't even know how to start this thing!"
I laugh and hop in and leave the door open so he can watch. I stamp on the gas pedal three times, pull the choke out all the way and turn the key. "Wagh wagh wagh VROOM!" says the truck as it lights off. It's running a little rough. I push the choke in about halfway and explain that it has to warm up a bit before I can take off. It smooths out as I slide the choke in halfway.
A few minutes later the temperature needle lifts off the peg. The choke goes in all the way. I take the candidate around the block and drop him off after giving him my thanks.
An hour or so later I am out of New York on an Interstate headed west. I pull out the throttle and listen to that Slant Six hum and smile all the way home. I am more than quite content.
While I do not drink and drive anymore I make an exception. I pull off the highway and buy a single beer and get back in the road again. I sip the beer and enjoy myself. When the beer is empty I reach down, lift the mat and drop the empty out onto the pavement where it rattles and bangs around. It came out from between the rear wheels of the pickup and any cop behind me just know I couldn't have thrown it out the window. The can just HAD to have either been on the road or been thrown out by the driver of the car ahead of me and been caught in his slipstream.
As I am enjoying myself watching the can rattle around through the rear view mirror I ask myself how many people are going to call me an idiot for not accepting the enormous behemoth and I laugh like hell. They don't have a clue. I am a simple man that likes simple things.
Maybe this will be the end of the recurring dream because this time I came out a BIG winner.
A month later on the news I hear where the candidate that gave me the truck won in a landslide.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Friday, April 17, 2020
But...but you didn't wash your hands!
Washing hands is useful to stop the spread of disease I will be the first to say it IF you know what you are doing.
An awful lot of idiots don't have a clue about what they are doing and why.
For sake of argument let's say your home is a sterile area and before you walk in you take a bath in bleach water. Now YOU are clean and preserve the integrity of the sterile area in your home.
Now there is no real reason to run around washing your hands every two minutes unless you are preparing food or have just used the toilet.
I posted this because I think it's kind of funny watching people that never leave the house running around screaming about making sure everyone washes their hands every thirty seconds.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
An awful lot of idiots don't have a clue about what they are doing and why.
For sake of argument let's say your home is a sterile area and before you walk in you take a bath in bleach water. Now YOU are clean and preserve the integrity of the sterile area in your home.
Now there is no real reason to run around washing your hands every two minutes unless you are preparing food or have just used the toilet.
I posted this because I think it's kind of funny watching people that never leave the house running around screaming about making sure everyone washes their hands every thirty seconds.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Thursday, April 16, 2020
Kinda busy today even though I'm home
I have to go out for the first time in days and help somebody move something which will actually be a joy as I have been cooped up for too long.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Wednesday, April 15, 2020
Here ya go
Inspected by #87
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Tuesday, April 14, 2020
What do you call the person that graduated from medical school at the bottom of his class?
You call him 'Doctor'.
Same holds true for the guy that barely passed his captain's license test. You call him 'Captain'.
I actually did quite well on my tests. I had to take a whole battery of tests and passed all of them with flying colors but because I never took a wheelhouse job and seldom used the license I am probably not particularly ready to run a tug. A ship is positively out of the question.
I would be comfortable running a 30 foot sailboat, though.
Still, the grades one gets on tests are no guarantee on how a person will produce. General U.S.Grant was a middle of the road student at West Point. He did quite well in the Civil War.
The only thing when all is said and done is how someone produces on the job.
I work in an odd industry. I have seen King's Point Merchant Marine Academy grads replaced by high school dropouts and vice versa. It's all about the ability to do the job.
I mentioned this at a gathering of some sort and some woman (it's generally women that are astonished to hear things like this) said that replacing a college grad with a high school dropout was a foolish thing for a company to do.
"Not if the college grad's nickname is 'Captain Crunch'," I shot back. "The man has done over a million dollars in damages to several docks."
Of course she didn't understand but some people fail to understand much of life to begin with.
Of course in certain segments of the business world a degree is required as sort of an entry fee. That's a given. But when you think about it if a person with or without a degree gets in the door somehow and produces they will likely be promoted.
Success gets a lot of other things overlooked.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Same holds true for the guy that barely passed his captain's license test. You call him 'Captain'.
I actually did quite well on my tests. I had to take a whole battery of tests and passed all of them with flying colors but because I never took a wheelhouse job and seldom used the license I am probably not particularly ready to run a tug. A ship is positively out of the question.
I would be comfortable running a 30 foot sailboat, though.
Still, the grades one gets on tests are no guarantee on how a person will produce. General U.S.Grant was a middle of the road student at West Point. He did quite well in the Civil War.
The only thing when all is said and done is how someone produces on the job.
I work in an odd industry. I have seen King's Point Merchant Marine Academy grads replaced by high school dropouts and vice versa. It's all about the ability to do the job.
I mentioned this at a gathering of some sort and some woman (it's generally women that are astonished to hear things like this) said that replacing a college grad with a high school dropout was a foolish thing for a company to do.
"Not if the college grad's nickname is 'Captain Crunch'," I shot back. "The man has done over a million dollars in damages to several docks."
Of course she didn't understand but some people fail to understand much of life to begin with.
Of course in certain segments of the business world a degree is required as sort of an entry fee. That's a given. But when you think about it if a person with or without a degree gets in the door somehow and produces they will likely be promoted.
Success gets a lot of other things overlooked.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
Things with batteries in them are a pain in the ass.
because when you need them the batteries have gone bad.
My significant other asked me to look at the pair of family thermometers and they are battery powered. It seldom gets used and when it does the battery is either dead or dying. It sits in the closet for years at a time so it's understandable.
Still, I wish I could find an Old School mercury thermometer that doesn't use batteries.
Of course if I put word out everyone and their cousin would start babbling "You have to hold those old thermometers under your tongue for three minutes!"
So?
At least you wouldn't have to drive halfway across town to buy a new battery when you needed to take your temperature.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
My significant other asked me to look at the pair of family thermometers and they are battery powered. It seldom gets used and when it does the battery is either dead or dying. It sits in the closet for years at a time so it's understandable.
Still, I wish I could find an Old School mercury thermometer that doesn't use batteries.
Of course if I put word out everyone and their cousin would start babbling "You have to hold those old thermometers under your tongue for three minutes!"
So?
At least you wouldn't have to drive halfway across town to buy a new battery when you needed to take your temperature.
To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
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