This is Wrong, Wrong, WRONG

Heads Should Roll…


I haven’t mentioned this before in my blog, but I have been conducting a life long study in first impressions and human nature. Some parts of my study were done intentionally, while others were quite unintentional and not very much fun in the retrospect.

I’ve found that, as a society, we have been conditioned to look at things like a man’s appearance--skin color, hair length, or choice of clothing--and base our interactions with a given individual on what I call “visual cues.”

I believe that no matter how many laws are passed or how much social pressure is brought to bear, each of us will continue to assess our fellow humans using social “norms” rather than intuition and a little common sense.

Further, the results of my study, to date, suggests that many of us, if not most of us, are just plain STUPID and GULLIBLE, and that as a result we end up playing the wrong game with the wrong people at the wrong time in the wrong places.

You ever heard the old saying that “a man can steal a great deal more money wearing a suit rather than brandishing a gun…”?

Insurance salesman, my old business partner, and several lawyers I’ve encountered through the years easily come to mind.

For instance--I, personally, suffer from a mild case of male pattern baldness, giving me a thin spot on the crown of my head and the resulting receding hairline. In the past ten years I have gone from cutting my hair down to 1/8” every week (an old fashioned crew cut) to having grown an 8” long pony tail. I’m desperately trying to avoid the “Billy Ray Cyrus Mullet” look, however.

I guess that you could say that “the jury is still out” regarding my success or failure...

I’ve also gone from regularly wearing a suit and tie to basically living in shorts and boat shoes or sweatpants and tennis shoes.

Same person—different packaging.

You would be amazed at the different receptions I get from people, based on my hair and clothing.

“No…I don’t have a rolling paper on me, thank you very much…”

I really enjoy messing with peoples’ minds if they are particularly condescending, and I will play my Billy Bob Thornton/Ernest T Bass/ Jeff Foxworthy impression on them, then watch them freak out the next time I see them when I mention that I’m a mechanical engineer, that I went to Georgia Tech, and I want to try out to compete on the game show “Jeopardy.”

When it comes to financial transactions I’ve found the disparity to be even greater.

Try getting off of your boat sometime wearing a bandanna and smelling like fish bait, walk into your bank, and attempt to withdraw a couple of thousand dollars in CASH. You might end up needing a gun to complete the transaction, even if the money is actually in your account and you have three forms of valid ID.

Or try this. Hang out on your boat for a few weeks, with only 30 gallons of fresh water (virtually no showers except salt water), then park your boat for engine repairs and attempt to return home by buying a one way airline ticket with cash from Key West to Atlanta.

You’re very likely to hear “you can put your pants back on when we’re through with the body cavity search and the X-ray exam…Mr. Rogers.” I really felt sorry for the TSA employee that had to hand inspect the suitcase containing my dirty clothes on that trip—they had better have been wearing two sets of latex gloves.

Then there was the first time I ever got a bonus check from a company I worked for back in the 1980’s. The guy that ran the business paid us a minimum salary and car allowance, but then he kicked ass with bonus checks if we did a good job and we had a good year.

My first bonus check was for $10,000. To say that I was elated would be an extreme understatement…

I was in my mid-twenty’s “pre-balding” long hair stage and was quite crushed when I walked into my company’s bank and attempted to CASH my $10,000 check. I wasn’t about to wait for my bank to hold my funds for a week or ten days while they waited for the check to clear.

I wanted to actually hold $10,000 in $100 bills.

Those b*tches at the bank treated me like total crap. I had on jeans that day because I had been doing a shop inspection on one of my projects and evidently I didn’t look like someone that should legitimately have any money. Everyone in the branch from the janitor to the “branch manager” had to handle the check, hold it up to the light, taste it, and then rudely look me over from top to bottom.

They called my office and asked for the owner, who was not in at the time, and they would not accept the secretary’s word that the check was good. After an hour of sitting around the bank lobby, while I was preparing to retrieve my check and deposit it in my own bank, my boss (the owner) called and threatened to close his six figure account(s) if they didn’t apologize to me and get me out the door immediately with my money.

They did, and I still managed to be polite because I was still so happy with my windfall, but I learned a sad lesson that day.

“You can’t judge a book by its cover…”

I have a good idea how this guy felt when Wal-Mart called the cops on him:

Wal-Mart has apologized to a black man who was accused of trying to pass a bad check as he was buying thousands of dollars in holiday gift cards to distribute to his company's employees.

Employees of a Wal-Mart Supercenter called deputies last week to apprehend Reginald Pitts after he handed over a $13,600 check to pay for 520 gift cards that were to be given to employees at GAF Materials Corp., a roofing materials manufacturer where Pitts is a human resources manager.

The company, which had $1.6 billion in revenue last year, had been spending about $50,000 a year on Wal-Mart gift cards and never had a problem when it sent a white employee to pick them up.

"I keep going over and over the incident in my mind," Pitts told the St. Petersburg Times. "I cannot come up with any possible reason why I was treated like this except that I am black."
Wal-Mart, based in Bentonville, Ark., has launched an internal investigation of the incident and apologized to Pitts.

…

Pitts said that when he went to the store last week to pick up the already printed cards, store managers stalled for about two hours after he handed over the check while he stood waiting by the customer service desk. He had handed over his GAF business card, his driver's license and the toll-free numbers to GAF's bank. His accounting supervisor assured them over the phone that GAF was good for the check.

Later, two Hillsborough County sheriff's deputies appeared. One grabbed Pitts by the arm. He objected to the rough handling and asked if he was being arrested.

"We need to talk with you about this forged check that you brought in here," Pitts recalled one deputy saying. The deputy said later Wal-Mart had called and reported that Pitts had committed a felony.

A short time later deputies determined there were no grounds for a criminal charge and that Wal-Mart would not press the issue further.

Pitts' company has lodged a formal complaint with Wal-Mart.

You’re damn right someone should complain, even if the guy was white.

Been there, done that, got the T-shirt…

Deadly Teen Pranks

Stupidity Squared...Unintended Consequences


I did some stupid stuff when I was a kid. Heck, I’ve done some stupid stuff as an adult (some stock market losses and my not one, but TWO ex-wives come to mind in this instance.)

As I’ve admitted earlier, I used to make things that could fly around under their own power--model airplanes and rockets. I also used to make things that blew up. Then I discovered that I could make a few things that flew around and then blew up when they were done flying.

Now don't start calling the NTSB, the ATF, or the FBI, because I've seen the writing on the walls and given up those hobbies years ago.

The one thing that I never did was direct my self entertaining pranks at other people or other people’s property. I was not that stupid, and possibly I was also afraid of the punitive consequences, or a little of both.

My current problem is that we have some local kids (I assume) that could use a few lessons in exercising similar restraint.

You see, we have an egging problem here on St. Simons Island.

Twice in the past six months we’ve had automobiles decorated with the paint-damaging remnants of eggs. The absentee owner of a black Mercedes 300SL parked in our building’s carport is going to be extremely distressed when they find the yolk that’s been cooking on the right rear quarter panel since this summer.

Last week our Mustang GT was one of the dozen recipients of a lovely egg decoration. Fortunately I found the results of our presumeably young intruders’ evenings’ entertainment and was able to wash it off early the next morning prior to it becoming permanantly attached to our paint.

This kind of crap really pisses me off--the children of "rich people" going out and egging other "rich people's" cars. For one thing, we're actually not rich; and most of my neighbors are elderly, even if they are "well-to-do" and have a hard time washing egg off of their Cadillacs, Lexus, and Mercedes.

Besides that, throwing anything at or on anyone's property, regardless of socio-economic status is wrong, and is typically against the law.

Regardless of the legal statutes, I’m thinking about buying one of these, an Ariakon SIM-4 R.I.S. Elete paintball gun to use as a deterrent of future antics :

Talk about an expensive toy--it costs nearly $1,000 customized with a laser sight. It has threaded interchangeable barrels, and can even be fitted for "night vision."

This aught to do the trick quite nicely...don't you think? It might cause the necessity of a few changes of underwear just by pointing at a potential tresspassor or vandal.

I can't decide if I would actually have the guts to shoot an egger, but I'd damn sure fire a round at their Daddy's SUV and let them explain the incident to Dad and/or the Police.

There are at least two teens in Indianapolis that wish that Donald E. Ware had shown restraint similar to my own:

A jury convicted a man of murder for fatally shooting a 15-year-old boy who threw eggs at him.

The Marion Superior Court jury in Indiana deliberated for seven hours Thursday before finding Donald E. Ware guilty of killing Brandon Dunson-Taylor.

Ware, 37, of Avon, Ind., showed no emotion as he looked at the jury while the verdict was read. He faces 79 years in prison and was scheduled to be sentenced on Dec. 15.

Dunson-Taylor's great uncle, Charles Russell, said the incident was a lesson for teens to avoid the actions that led to the shooting.

“A child's prank can have consequences that no one could anticipate," Russell said.

…

Prosecutors portrayed Ware, who is white, as a racist motivated by more than anger when he fired a rifle toward the group of black youths throwing eggs at motorists including him on July 24 on Indianapolis' west side.

"I can't stand that the prosecution made it racially motivated," Fiscus said. "Everyone needs to know it was not racially motivated."

Ware's mother, Donna Ware, said her son was innocent.

"He's done a lot of dumb things, but he would never kill anyone unless it was in self-defense," she said.

Prosecutors said Ware told police he had yelled racial epithets at the teens after getting struck in the head with an egg.

As is usual with the media, I have a couple of problems with this story...

First of all, wouldn't it be perfectly natural to be inclined to yell a few choice words in the direction of someone that had just hit YOU in the head with an egg?

What was the guy supposed to say?

"Hey you young incorrigible Imps...THAT’S NOT FUNNY”?

"Hey you GUYS, stop that!!"

Or maybe just a simple “OUCH!”?

If the person that hit me was a woman, I’d probably include the B*tch word as the egg yolk dripped off of my nose. If the person was a man, I’d include SOB somewhere in my response, and if the perpetrator of the “teen prank” was black, I’m afraid that I must admit that the “N” word might slip from my lips in my retort.

But calling this a HATE CRIME is complete bullshit.

Yes, the guy shouldn’t have shot a kid for hitting him with an egg, but INCREASING his prison sentence based on what they assumed that he was thinking or based on what he said at the time is ludicrous.

And regarding “egging” as always being a HARMLESS prank, try having an egg explode on your windshield while driving at 55 MPH down a crooked two lane road on a freezing night.

Is that harmless?

The egg immediately sets on the windshield and cannot be washed off with the washer/wipers. I know, because it happened to me on a cold night in 1995, in my shiny 6 month old Chevy Surburban, and as a result I had to immediately roll my window down and drive with my head leaning out the window in order to negotiate slowing down and safely stopping off of the roadway.

I’m quite sure that the imbecile that lobbed that egg that night knew exactly what they were doing and probably knew the risk of causing an accident as a result, but I don’t care what color their skin was or what they were actually thinking at the time, IF I could have turned around and caught them, I might have blown their stupid brains out myself with my pistol.

Fortunately I had to stop and clean my windshield and had time for the rationality to temper my response.

I feel sorry for this little negro, black, African American youth, but he should have let his loving Mama fry those eggs for him, instead of using them ruin the lives of two families.

If people would just learn to THINK before they ACT...

RedneckJihad

I just found the RedneckJihad website and fell in love with this T-shirt logo:





























I want one for Christmas...

Yasser Arafat's Still Dead

You Heard Me Right...

I forgot to mention the passing of the one year anniversary on November 11th, but just in case you were wondering, Nobe Peace Prize winner Yasser Arafat is still dead.

Six point five BILLION dollars of internation aid money intended to build hospitals and infarstructure to benefit the "palistinians" is still missing.

Yasser's widow is still living it up in London (I wonder if she torched a few cars herself...)

Palastine has basically absorbed the Gaza strip from Israel, but Yasser's Tunisian goons and the PLO are still blowing up people and things with wreckless abandon.

Abbas and Hamas (and the rock group Abba?) are still refusing to honor any negotiated settlements or disarm their own terrorists.

Yep, it looks to me like the only good news out of that part of the Middle East is...

Yasser Arafat is still DEAD, DEAD, DEAD.

An ACLU Christmas

Here’s Hoping That You Have A Happy One...Why Not Share?

What anti-American, communist/socialist loving surprises has the American Civil Liberties Union cooked up in your town or state this year?

None yet?

Well you just wait, because the ACLU is lurking around under rocks and in sewers and they make it their job--yes, even their (im)moral obligation--to assure that we all have our fair share of atheism, gay marriage, and abortion rights thrown in our faces every every day in the courts and every night on TV.

They will not rest until they ensure that the imagined or perceived rights of all convicted criminals and all obscure minorities, no matter how illogical or perverse, are protected...at the EXPENSE of the MAJORITY of AMERICANS.

Most of all, the ACLU wants to ensure that not one single person within our borders, residing here legally or illegally, is in any way OFFENDED as they go about their daily lives.

Isn't that lovely?

As is usual during this time of the year, the public display of our Christmas celebration is one of their favorite targets.

Kevin over at Musclehead Revolution has an excellent idea.

While you are addressing your Christmas cards this year, get out an extra one and mail it to the NY City office of the ACLU. Here’s the address:

ACLU
"Wishing You Merry Christmas"
125 Broad Street, 18th Floor
New York, NY 10004

I’m sending them a card, why don’t you?

Beauty Is In...

The Eye Of The Beholder

I’m really sick and tired of the success that professional and amateur “busybodies” enjoy today, particularly when it comes to the rightful use of real estate by the property owners.

Here is my take on private property rights.

If I go out and pay for a piece of property located in the middle of nowhere, with no existing zoning restrictions, building codes, and neighborhood covenants, I should then be able to build the biggest, ugliest, architecturally disgusting tin-roofed-tarpaper “shack” and paint it PURPLE or ORANGE if I want to.

I should be able to build myself a great big front porch for five bird dogs to live under, and adorn my porch with a variety of left over furniture items like an overstuffed Nalgahide sofa and possibly an old refrigerator and maybe a broken washing machine or two.

I should be able to place my shack out in plain view, ten feet off of the highway right-of-way for the enjoyment of every passer-by, or way back on the rear of my property—completely invisible to my neighbors and passing motorists.

After all, it’s MY PROPERTY, and MY PURPLE TARPAPER SHACK, and I happen to think that my flock of 13 pink plastic yard flamingos (they’re cheaper by the baker’s dozen) looks rather nice beside my inflatable snowman and my old Cadillac convertible that I’m going to completely restore one day when I’ve saved up enough money.

My lovely wife and nine kids should be able to enjoy watching from our rusty above ground swimming pool as I shoot old cola bottles and beer cans with my 45 magnum pistol on my newly constructed fifty yard shooting range

And if I want the flexibility of hanging up my Christmas lights at Thanksgiving and I never take them down, and YOU or my other neighbors or your lawyers have a problem with my uncouth, uncivilized Redneck behavior, I have two words for you…

TOUGH SHIT…

You live in Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood now, so get over your pompous self.

Likewise, if I choose to purchase property in a planned neighborhood that requires me to accept a 1” thick stack of protective covenants and to join a homeowner’s association (what I call the Neighborhood Nazis) with complete architectural review privileges, then I know going into the deal that my purple tarpaper shack and my plastic flamingos might be a bit of a liability.

If I'm willing to buy property in "busybody snob central" where people worry about the color of my mailbox, whether or not I leave my garage door open all day, refuse to allow me to store my bass boat hidden in my back yard, or build my child's playset 3" taller than the rules allow, so be it.

You and I probably paid EXTRA for all of these limitations on what would otherwise be considered our decisions, but people that are educated in Government (public) schools these days lack basic logical and decision making skills and generally feel better not having to worry about issues like how often to mow their grass and what kind of landscaping to install without getting the "Neighborhood Nazi's" approval.

The bottom line is that regardless of where I choose to live, I'd like to know the rules, in advance, and as an individual and an owner I would then be prepared to abide by the restrictions, or the lack thereof.

What really gripes my butt is when people start wanting to CHANGE the rules regarding real estate usage, AFTER the fact, because they don’t like what their neighbors are doing.

I once bought some coastal property in Florida, within a few blocks of the Gulf of Mexico in an area that had been originally zoned to allow mobile homes. I knew of the zoning the day I closed the sale transaction on the property. I got a better deal as a result.

I also knew that the property next door had an old dilapidated mobile home on it that was going to be removed and that the property on the other side of my lot had just sold to an owner who said she was going to build a house.

Well surprise, Surprise, SURPRISE…a few months later, after I had spent an additional $6,000 paying the water/sewer tap fees and trucked in about 20 loads of good fill dirt, my new neighbor bought a used double-wide trailer and parked it as close to the roadway and my property line as the zoning would allow.

What her motives were for placing the trailer where she did is beyond my comprehention, but funny thing--IT WAS HER PROPERTY AND WHAT I THOUGHT OR WANTED HER TO DO WAS IMMATERIAL.

It looked like crap when she was finished, but there was ABSOLUTELY NOTHING THAT I COULD DO ABOUT THE SITUATION.

Nothing…

Nada…

Zero…

Zilch.

I didn't feel that I had the right to attempt to use lawyers and the Government to artificially INCREASE my property value at the expense of my neighbor. Trailers were legal when I bought my property, I paid a cheeper price as a result, and I accepted the responsibility for MY decision to locate where I did.

I'm a nice guy, aren't I?

I never said a word to the owner about the situation, I just held the lot for 2-1/2 years, then sold it for a tidy profit to someone that was willing to build a house adjacent to a crappy mobile home installation.

Some people don’t see things the way I do, however. They run around hiring lawyers and trying to persuade their politicians to tell me what I can do with MY PROPERTY, or tell my neighbors what they can't do with THEIR PROPERTY.

After the fact.

After the sale is completed.

What total Bull Hockey.

Having said all of that, take a look at what they’re doing to some poor slob out in Catalina Island’s Avalon harbor.

For nearly 50 years, Robert Sherrill's grimy boat repair barge floated in the teal harbor of Avalon, in front of the casino that stars in most Catalina postcards.Even as the vessel grew from squat to tri-level, no one seemed to worry — until one morning in early August, when Sherrill replaced it with what looked like a floating condo.

It looks like he went from the back bay of Wilmington to Beverly Hills," said Avalon Harbor Master Brian Bray.

Sherrill's new repair barge is painted ivory. It has picture windows and arched balconies. Above the ground-level business are two floors of living space: four apartments meant to house Sherrill's family and guest mechanics.

And ever since it slid into the crescent-shaped harbor, it has generated ardent debate among the island's 3,500 residents and mainland boaters.

There are those who fume at Sherrill, saying he has ruined the view. Others rail against the town government for not putting an end to Sherrill's plan during construction. And plenty of islanders worry that the barge portends a future Avalon where people are priced off the land and into the water, into an offshore neighborhood or worse, a floating trailer park.

"Who wouldn't want … an apartment on the water in Avalon?" asked Stacey A. Otte, executive director of the Catalina Island Museum in the casino.Such questions have prompted the City Council to begin drafting an ordinance that would clearly define the rules for living on the water off Catalina.

Sherrill says he is bewildered by the criticism. He thought he was improving the view by updating the old barge he inherited from his father, with its prison-gray paint and tools dangling from all sides. His aim, he said, was to echo the casino with arches, a terracotta roof and paint that complemented the Art Deco building's creamy tones.

"I thought everybody was going to cheer at getting rid of the old barge," he said.


If you read the whole article, you find out that the “condo” in question is only two 800 square foot spaces--one for the owner’s family, and one to be divided into three small quarters for visiting mechanics.

The other thing that they mention is that mooring space on Catalina Island costs over $1,000,000, IF you can find any.

A MILLION DOLLARS...

So I ask you, why should the property owner not be allowed to upgrade and improve a fifty year old floating structure prominently located on the harbor waterfront?

After all, he already OWNS the RIGHT to be there on the waterfront, he isn’t infringing on anyone else’s use of the waterfront, and his fifty plus year old structure was deteriorating.

Instead of replacement, should the owner be forced by his neighbors and the government to continue to repair his existing eyesore structure at his expense, else remove it entirely and lose the use of his waterfront property rights?

I say not NO, but HELL NO, I wouldn't want idiot politicians and total strangers telling ME what to do with or otherwise limiting what I do with MY Million dollars.

Unfortunately, knowing how things are today, I’m afraid that Mr. Sherrill is going to lose this battle and never be allowed to live in his new condo.

What a wonderful, just, all inclusive Democracy we’ve converted our Republic into, don’t you think?

After all, the law now says that Beauty is in the eye of the beholder...or is it in the Government's eye (where I'd like to poke my finger)?

Someone Knows...

I've been working on an entry for the local "Coastal Heritage" arts exhibition.

My photo entry, done in Photoshop, features a photo of a nearby burial vault that has been vandalized, surround by translucent images I intend to represent various figures that might have been laid to rest at the site or were related to the individuals originally interred there.





















I call it "Someone Knows"

How Much Longer Do We Have To Suffer?

Please Put Me Out Of My Misery…

I use FOX News like my own personal TV screen saver or Television “wallpaper” when I’m up writing late at night.

I’m afraid that in this regard things are about to change…IF FOX’s Greta Van-Damn-Sustren doesn’t find SOMETHING else to talk about besides the poor little missing blond bimbo from Alabama—

You know who (or whom) I’m talking about—little Miss Natalee Holloway.

Good GOD Greta… talk about something else…ANYTHING ELSE…Plueeeezeee!!!!

Excuse me if I appear insensitive, but I’ve already written about this story last June in Travel Safety—Or The Lack Thereof.

Virtually nothing has changed since then.

Natalee is still missing.

The Aruban teenagers still look guilty as hell.

Natalee is still probably dead, Dead, DEAD.

The Aruban government is still a bunch of incompetent stone wallers.

I said it then, and I’ll reiterate it now: Natalee Holloway’s parents are at least 50% responsible for the death/disappearance of their daughter in Aruba.

Like I said before, you need to get this straight if you are the parent of a teen or young adult within your control.

OUTSIDE THE UNITED STATES OF BY-GOD AMERICA, YOUR LIFE, OR THE LIFE OF YOUR CHILD, IS WORTH EXACTLY THE VALUE OF THE MONEY IN HIS OR HER WALLET, THE VALUE OF THE PROPERTY ON THEIR PERSON AT THE TIME, OR THE VALUE OF HIS OR HER INDIVIDUAL BODY PARTS TO THE PERSON OR PERSONS SITTING NEXT TO THEM IN THE BAR, RESTAURANT, HOTEL/MOTEL, OR OTHER PUBLIC PLACE…

It’s just that simple…

You got that?

More Distractions

Sorry Folks, but I'm still concentrating on my Theater set building exercise, so I'm afraid that my blogging has been suffering in the process.

Here's the result of my efforts so far...





































Can you guess what I'm building?