Saturday, August 19, 2006
This morning, for the second time in a week, I found someone sleeping in a vehicle or otherwise clandestinely using our parking lot without permission.
Earlier in the week I found a contractor that I knew was supposed to be working in a condo in our building sleeping in his Ford Van, with the drivers’ door open and the inside cockpit lights on.
After much consideration, I decided to cut him a break and not call the police since I knew that he belonged here and hadn’t caused any trouble thus far, and when I woke him he respectfully jumped up and removed himself from the public venue.
Tonight things were a little different, however.
I wandered outside about 4:30 AM for my morning swim, and to my surprise I found that there was a pickup truck sitting parked in front of the pool house with the engine running and the parking lights on.
Having been young once myself a few hundred years ago, I was willing to give the occupants the benefit of the doubt as I made myself and my presence in the pool area painfully obvious.
Next I started feeling nervous, and the presence of the pickup and its occupant(s) or pants-less occupant(s) began to interfear with my morning ritual.
So I rattled around again like I was supposed to be there and was unaware of their presence.
Finally, I heard doors slamming and muffled voices and after a few minutes a young twenty something guy appeared, proceeded to ignore me while he darted into the men’s restroom in the pool house. He grunted something unintelligible as he answered my greeting and slammed the door.
A few moments later, upon his exit, I said “You’re welcome to use our facilities, but if you don’t belong here you need to leave NOW.
"OOOOhhh Keeeee Dhooooo Keyyyyyy…Mr. personality" ran through my own head...
"You obviously don’t know who (or whom…I can never get that phrase straight) you are dealing with. "
I, being the self proclaimed “Condo Pool Nazi”, simply collected my posessions, saundered back to the condo, placed a non-emergency call to the Glynn County Police Department, and within about twenty minutes he (that would be “Mr. personality”) and his girlfriend were surrounded by two police cruisers, having police officers' flashlights illuminating their un-suntanned lily-white derieres as they tried to reinstall their underwear and other clothing.
Surprisingly enough, everyone was released without further incident as the embarrassed young female (I’m pretty sure I know who it was, and she weren’t where or with who (or whom) she was supposed to be with) sprinted back to her condo and the so-called 'gentleman" hurriedly drove away.
I guess that no one was drunk or had any other legal problems because the officers left empty handed. I watched, with a certain amount of mirth and satisfaction, the entire episode from the safety of my front patio.
Here's the moral of the Story (for those that don't know me or are otherwise not paying attention):
I'm normally a pretty understanding, cool guy, BUT...
don’t be coming to my neighborhood directing the “F” word at me, unless you are prepared to deal with the consequences...
After all, this is.........Mr. ROGERS' NEIGHBORHOOD
Friday, August 18, 2006
Here's a tip for everyone out there who want's to eventually retire and move to the beach to live.
My advice only takes three words...READY?
"Heavy Flower Pots."
Here's the thing...Since we moved down here to our little island, we've managed to accumulate a couple of dozen tropical plants--Palms, Ferns, Spider Plants, etc.--and they almost all came from the store in undersized plastic pots.
No problem, I figured that we'd just buy new, bigger pots, some potting soil, and replant after the first season.
My first mistake was to buy ornamental, yet cheep, plastic pots for the replacements.
Did anyone but me not know that a 6' palm tree could fly, attached to a cheep plastic pot, when influenced by the average wind velocity found within a mile of the shoreline on a normal day?
Today is one of those days, and I'm spending my time wandering around picking up plants that have been upset by the pseudotropical squall that has developed off of the Georgia coast over the past couple of days.
My point is this...do yourself a favor and buy real pots for your plants, they'll be a lot happier and you won't get the extra exercise chasing them around your patio and terraces.
Don't worry because I’m not writing a bunch of angry stuff right now.
There's nothing wrong with me, I'm just enjoying BEING right now.
Why don’t you folks go out and find your own crazy stuff to bitch and complain about this morning if you need to.
I'm just sitting here on our little island… acting like I’m on vacation.
And I’m thinking how good it is that at least I don’t live in Cuba, Israel, or over in Lebanon (not to mention New Jersey or New York City) where I would have to worry about locking my doors at night or having a rocket land in my living room floor, thereby damaging my nice wool rug or something…
Know What I mean?????
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Just try finding THIS in the NY Times:
A Lebanese general was ordered arrested Wednesday for appearing in a videotape drinking tea with IDF soldiers who had occupied his south Lebanon barracks during their incursion of the country.
Adnan Daoud was summoned and ordered held for questioning, Interior Minister Ahmed Fatfat said in a statement. Daoud is commanding officer of the 1,000-strong joint police-army force that had positions in southern Lebanon and was based in Marjayoun.
Yeah, I thought so...
For those not paying attention or that otherwise don't care, "The King" died on this day 29 years ago--that would be August 16, 1977.
I almost pulled off that trick Myself last year on this day--what a difference a year makes.
I wasn't really a big Elvis fan, but I did respect how he demonstrated what a poor southern boy could manage to do if he played his cards right and put his mind to it.
At least he didn't do the Jane Fonda, Sally Strouthers, Barbara Streisand psycho-politicalo babble thing like actors and entertainers do today.
From one son of the south to another, I offer a hearty and sincere...R.I.P. Mr. Presley...
I've set here watching FOX news most of the day.
They're showing that Dulles bound United Airliner sitting on the Runway at Logan Airport, surrounded by law enforcement and emergency vehicles, with dogs running around sniffing the luggage that is all scattered out on the ground around the airplane.
What kills me is that they're telling two stories on what possibly happened to cause the incident/diversion.
A. Some woman lost composure in a claustrophobic conniption fit and had to be restrained.
B. Some woman did "A" above, then was found to be in posession of (gasp) a screwdriver, a jar of Vaseline, and a note with references to a terrorist group. (If it was me, I'd choose WD40 rather than Vaseline.)
I have just one question...
WHICH IS IT...DAMMIT?
Why bother to report BOTH stories instead of waiting until the facts in the story come out?
The media is so STUPID.
So let's get a look at the total costs so far here...
One runway at a major airport closed for 12 hours
Two F-16's (or F-15's) scrambled for escort
About two hundred people wasting their time for at least an extra half day.
99% of the country completely clueless for the duration of the coverage.
This type of crap makes my head spin.
By the way, let me remind you that if you get on an airliner with me with your screwdriver, Vaseline and "scribbled memos to self" and start freaking out or otherwise acting up, the real news story is not going to be about YOUR behavior, it's going to be about ME strangling the life out of your miserable body.
You all have a NICE day now...
Look at this most recent crap developing in the Middle East, as reported by this morning’s Jerusalem Post:
The IDF will have to resume operations in Lebanon if the expanded United Nations force being assembled does not fulfill its obligation to dismantle Hizbullah, an official in the Prime Minister's Office warned on Tuesday.
Lebanese Prime Minister Fuad Saniora and Hizbullah leader Hassan Nasrallah reportedly reached a deal allowing Hizbullah to keep its weapons but refrain from exhibiting them in public. Israeli officials called the arrangement a violation of UN Security Council Resolution 1701, which passed over the weekend and was approved on Sunday by the cabinet.
I can just hear it--the excuses--now…
“Oh, those are just family heirlooms…Grandpapa’s WWIV artifacts…”
“…those aren’t actually rocket launchers, those are spare pipes for the
Imagine the hooplah and uproar if you and I wanted to stockpile a few fun little toys in our basements here in the US, and expected it to be considered legal as long as we didn't try to take them out for a test drive every once in a while?
"...it's not a Abrams Tank, its just a big old bug zapper...and we don't actually plan to use it Mr. Annan..."
I swear an oath on the bible (the King James Version is my preference) that I’m trying my very best to limit the tone of my political commentary these days because I know that I am apt to offend some readers here, and in my third year of blogging I’m trying to get my readership up, BUT…
…if my pointing out of the feckless, obtuse, incompetent, useless (pick another five words here) results that are already coming about after only TWO DAYS as a result of the passage of UN Resolution 1701 calling for a “cease fire” between Lebanon and Israel is any example…
PREPARE TO BE SEVERELY OFFENDED IF YOU KEEP STOPING BACK BY HERE!!!
Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, I feel like I can finally rest easy this evening.
I've solved my own personal dilemma regarding the so called "airport security" issue(s) which we each face to a varying degree each and every day.
I thought about it for a while, and then it occurred to me that the solution was quite simple.
The next time I have to travel by Delta or AirTran or the other airliner du jour here in the good old US of A, I’ll just go to the airport looking like this:
I should breeze right through security, and they might even let me sit in the third seat in the cockpit if I
wield my boxcutter...er...um...play my cards right.
I have to give the folks over at the Al Hannah Website credit for the image of my lovely ensemble of Muslim attire (but that is my real face stuffed in there under the Green Turban.)
Don’t YOU like the idea?
Well then guys, don’t forget to stop by and pick up something for your Concubines or seventy two virgins while preparing to make your way to paradise.
I'll be the guy sitting there signing copies of my BBQ Pork cookbook in the lobby...shouting things like "ALLAH BE PRAISED"...
"GO YOU &%#$*@ YELLOW JACKETS"...
and "ELVIS JUST LEFT THE BUILDING ON A UFO"...
You know...things which someone would say if they have a bad case of "Turette Syndrone".
Then again, you know me...and I don't actually need that kind of excuse...
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
OK, take a look at this story about proposed changes in airport passenger screening in the United Kingdom, then when you are done click over on this link and read this story with the headline saying “Israel Humbled By Arms From Iran.”
Anyone but me notice a common theme here?
I call both stories excellent examples of what I call “liberal and liberal media armchair quarterbacking."
Think about it with me for a minute.
Israel could have fired up their military and bombed and shelled the crap out of the entire country of Lebanon, outflanking Hezbollah in a manner of weeks if not days, but also killing tens or hundreds of thousands of presumably innocent civilians that have
Dead people would be piled up like cordwood, and Israel would have eliminated Hezbollah, (in the words of Barney Fife—nipped it in the bud), but the NY Times and John Murtha and the two idiot senators from Massachusetts would have crapped their pants and publicly had heart attacks in the process.
The balance of the media and most of the United Nations ambassadors would have gotten out their butter knives, put on their bicycle helmets, and personally escorted Cindy Sheehan’s recently expired corpse to Arlington National Cemetery.
Because the media and the liberals want no wars to be fought with anything but kid gloves. It’s like handing kids a football and saying “have fun, but don’t go out and score any touchdowns and please don’t tackle anybody in the process of not scoring.”
What the hell?
So there Israel sits this morning, while the Telegraph newspaper laments how they were thwarted by a bunch of freedom fighters and “robin hoods” brandishing BB guns supplied by Iran.
If I were managing things in Israel, I’d be pulling out immediately and aiming my sights on Syria and Iran, but (un)fortunately I’m relegated to safely sitting around drawing and painting and taking pictures of frogs here on the Georgia coast, and my opinion doesn’t matter.
That next story makes me laugh out loud, because even the Brits are spazing out worrying about “profiling” and hurting people’s feelings by selecting young dark skinned Arab men with scraggly beards wearing various forms of household linen fabric on their head for additional screening.
I have an excellently eloquent, simple solution for anyone that might warrant the increased scrutiny of airport personnel and not want to risk having their tender sensibilities offended.
Remember that flying is OPTIONAL—particularly on privately owned airliners?
Or if there is a lake or ocean between your home and your travel destination, TAKE A BOAT…preferably your own.
You have my hearty permission to blow IT up and make a somewhat more muted religious statement in the process.
Otherwise, when you present yourself at the security gate with your carry on luggage full of cell phones and “modified” sports drinks, expect to have to remove your sandals, your headgear, and have your flowing gowns patted down because I personally am not averse to being screened in a similar manner and I don’t want to be seen on CNN hanging on a life preserver on a cable under a helicopter being rescued as a result of your wild eyed Jihad efforts.
See, the media and the liberals and the liberal media (I think that I just repeated myself) want us spending our time and money looking for weapons and explosives, not looking for the terrorists that use them, BUT...
The next time something and someone blows up and comes falling out of the sky or smoldering out of a subway system somewhere, the media headlines will be screaming:
"Bush Administration's Efforts thwarted by angry Saudis..."
I'm RIGHT and you know it...Oh..Oh...OH...AHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhh........
That will be all, for now…I gotta go take a nap.
I mentioned this in my rantings on Sunday, and by Monday night, less than 24 hours after the UN solicated “Cease Fire went into effect, I was proven RIGHT.
Ten rockets and/or mortar rounds were fired into southern Lebanon by the "Cease-Firees" in the north. Israel did not retaliate because as is generally the case, no one was hit. They did have to shoot and kill a half dozen "militants" that approached checkpoints in a threatening manner and refused to put down their weapons.
This can't keep happening, folks, even if the numbers fall down to one or two rockets a day, I expect the UN's blue helmeted "multinational forces" to turn tail and run, and the toothless Lebanese Army folks will probably beat them out of the area if they don't decide to join Hezbolla themselves.
Don't get me wrong here...I hope that somehow a new UN "resolution" will finally be worth the paper and computer screens that it's written on, but then again...
I'm not holding my breath.
Monday, August 14, 2006
After spending most of last night doing research regarding the Federal Grant programs I'm interested in for the City of Brunswick and for some Mediterranean recipes I'm interested in cooking for the other blog, I was rousted out of bed at about 8:30 AM this morning by a phone call.
It was my buddy, Bryan Thompson, Mayor of Brunswick on the line.
While I think that it's pretty cool to be on a first name basis with the local politicians, I generally find the hours around lunchtime and thereafter to be considerably more conducive when it comes to me having a coherent conversation.
I managed to ramble through the ten minute dialogue, and the bottom line is that the City isn’t quite ready to apply for grant funding on the behalf of our “K-Street Tree Project”, and they’ve lost their person that was responsible for doing grants and didn’t want me to go off half cocked by myself, Sooooooo….
We will miss the August 14th deadline here in a few minutes.
The good news is, they still like the park idea and the tree idea and we have yet another meeting scheduled for early September at City Hall.
I have to admit that I was both disappointed and relieved at the same time.
To celebrate, I cooked a hearty Mexican dinner for Pat and I, then Pat lounged on the sofa and in the bed while I wandered down to “Open Mike” night at a local tavern.
A little singing, a little harmonica playing, and a little ego enhancing applause ensued.
Dang I’m getting rusty in the harp playing department, I need to start practicing again now that I might have an opportunity to play regularly.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
For some technical reason, I can't make the image I've done with Photoshop upload early this morning, so I'll have to paraphrase the new sign I'm considering hanging over at the pool house.
I'm going to make a nice stencil here in the condo, run out in the middle of the night to paint the current sign solid white, then paint in big bold red letters the following message:
"Welcome to our neighborhood pool.
Please feel free to enjoy it...
then leave it like you found it...
And by the way...any unattended children,
under the age of twenty, will be
captured and sold as slaves."
I think that should settle things quite well...
UPDATE: Here's My Sign
Remember back in the good old days when, if one Man insulted another Man or his Wife or Mother or his Sister or otherwise stepped across the line of civility, that said insulted man could proceed to
Pistols at twenty paces…
I’m not quite old enough to fall into that category of humans because I’m apparently a little more that a hundred and one half years too young to participate in and/or have witnessed that process, but a couple of famous Americans named Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton come to mind as one of the last participants in those proceedings.
I seem to remember reading about that little duel in school thirty years ago…the editors of the NY Times would pee their
In the centuries before we here in America wrote a Constitution and processed the Bill of Rights and the ensuing legal rhetoric, men were men, and the men were quickly separated from the boys, unless they lived in San Francisco or today, apparently, in New Haven Connecticut.
And I almost forgot to mention the United Nations building located in the Turtle Bay region of New York City.
That’s because TODAY, people called DIPLOMATS, augmented by LAWYERS and other
I guaran-damn-tee-you that Israel will regret the day that they accept the current
I still say NUKE ‘EM…
LAST year, about this time, I was trying to convince myself that I was healthy enough to go get on an airplane and travel over to visit my mom in Alabama for a week.
LAST year, about a day later, I was taking a sixty mile ride in an ambulance, on my way to being admitted to a hospital in South Alabama.
LAST year, about this time, my family was learning that I was deathly ill with massive blood clotting in my kidneys, liver, and intestines--courtesy of an inherited blood disorder that tries to make my blood turn into something with the consistency of Jello about every four or five years.
LAST year about this time, I was in a drug induced coma of pain and delirium, and my Mother, Sister, and girlfriend Pat were in tears around me and my agony, prepared from me to die.
THEN suddenly, and without explanation, God's hand reached down and healed me and relieved my suffering.
FIFTEEN days later--after six days in intensive care and nine days in a regular room without much of a view, they sent me home a with pant load of prescriptions and a bill for about ninety thousand dollars.
I honestly can't say that I deserved it (the recovery, not the bill), because the effort might have been better spent on someone much more worthy than I, but in the end--I have to admit that I was willing to take the offer.
SINCE my sudden and miraculous recovery, I have sincerely spent most of my time trying to not waste the opportunity.
THIS year I'm still here and stronger than I've been in at least a decade.
THIS year I'm still working as a volunteer in the community to help those that have fewer blessings than myself.
THIS year I'm trying to be a better son, brother and life partner that I have been in the days and years before, recognizing that each and every day I live is a privelege and a GIFT, and I can't always count on having another one.
AFTER all, when it is all said and done, all there is is just TODAY...
AND...I hope that yours is a good one...