Friday, June 29, 2007
My Pyramid Scheme
Stoned Illusions...
Boy oh boy am I ever an efficient little son of a gun these days, if I do say so myself.
In addition to wrestling my stack project to the ground this week and basically putting 99% of the design issues to rest in the process, I also delivered two framed photos to the Art Gallery yesterday (a day early), was notified that I had successfully negotiated the gauntlet down at City Hall to get a building permit for my duplex conversion project, and to finish things off I also built the first scale models of my "Pyramids of Egypt" set pieces that will be featured at Brunswick's Glynn Academy football games this season with their marching band.
I'm a little disappointed with one stipulation that the City of Brunswick threw at me on my construction project regarding the side setbacks on the four foot rear extension of the existing building, but I guess bureaucrats by their very nature being bureaucrats that you have to expect at least one inane government intrusion into every private endeavor. Otherwise the status wouldn't be "quo" any longer....you know what I mean?
Any way, this "Pyramid Scheme" has been an interesting mental exercise just to get to the model making phase of the project, and the next step will actually involve building yet another improved model using PVC pipe and some pieces of one yard samples of spandex fabric that I bought on the Internet in order to test the functionality of the process--what I call the "Do-ability Test"--before we spend $500 of hard earned Band Parent's money on bolts of fabric and pallets of PVC pipe.
The spandex idea actually was my most recent revelation, the idea of a "stretch fabric" solving several aesthetic and structural issues at the same time.
Dang I'm a genius.
The spandex takes on a modified form of something called a "Catenary Curve" between it's rigid support points, but if you stretch it tight enough it looks almost flat. I'm also using some techniques (battens, etc) employed in making the sails for a ship to produce a flexible, lightweight portable structure that can cover ten yards of football field, extend to a height of twenty feet, and not fall over and get me dragged into a courtroom by irate parents because of the trauma caused to their little darlin's in the process.
Perhaps the hardest part of this project is the requirement that the set pieces be able to travel with the band to out of town football games and marching contests.
That specification is added on top of the needs for being weatherproof, wind resistant, and capable of being installed and handled by gangly mobs of fourteen to eighteen year-old kids wielding trumpets and tubas and possibly those wearing skimpy sequined majorette costumes.
As has become a usual occurrence recently, my blogging has suffered at the hands of commercial enterprise. OK, maybe a combination of commercial and philanthropic enterprise, but reduced writing has resulted none the less.
I'm just having a hard time mustering the energy to bitch about everything that needs to be bitched about in the world these days.
For instance, the ENTIRE time I've been sitting here writing this posting FOX News has been freaking out about a purported bomb plot being thwarted near Piccadilly Circus in London this morning.
This on the heels of Tony Blair basically being pushed from the office of Prime Minister as a result of his ongoing support for the war ontowel headed Muslim terrorism.
Go figure...
So now I have to get back to putting the final details on some smoke stack drawings, go over to Brunswick to pay for and pick up my Building Permit, stop by the cigar store to buy cigars and possibly wander back over to the swimming pool to contemplate my charmed existence.
I hope you have an equally satisfying day.
Boy oh boy am I ever an efficient little son of a gun these days, if I do say so myself.
In addition to wrestling my stack project to the ground this week and basically putting 99% of the design issues to rest in the process, I also delivered two framed photos to the Art Gallery yesterday (a day early), was notified that I had successfully negotiated the gauntlet down at City Hall to get a building permit for my duplex conversion project, and to finish things off I also built the first scale models of my "Pyramids of Egypt" set pieces that will be featured at Brunswick's Glynn Academy football games this season with their marching band.
I'm a little disappointed with one stipulation that the City of Brunswick threw at me on my construction project regarding the side setbacks on the four foot rear extension of the existing building, but I guess bureaucrats by their very nature being bureaucrats that you have to expect at least one inane government intrusion into every private endeavor. Otherwise the status wouldn't be "quo" any longer....you know what I mean?
Any way, this "Pyramid Scheme" has been an interesting mental exercise just to get to the model making phase of the project, and the next step will actually involve building yet another improved model using PVC pipe and some pieces of one yard samples of spandex fabric that I bought on the Internet in order to test the functionality of the process--what I call the "Do-ability Test"--before we spend $500 of hard earned Band Parent's money on bolts of fabric and pallets of PVC pipe.
The spandex idea actually was my most recent revelation, the idea of a "stretch fabric" solving several aesthetic and structural issues at the same time.
Dang I'm a genius.
The spandex takes on a modified form of something called a "Catenary Curve" between it's rigid support points, but if you stretch it tight enough it looks almost flat. I'm also using some techniques (battens, etc) employed in making the sails for a ship to produce a flexible, lightweight portable structure that can cover ten yards of football field, extend to a height of twenty feet, and not fall over and get me dragged into a courtroom by irate parents because of the trauma caused to their little darlin's in the process.
Perhaps the hardest part of this project is the requirement that the set pieces be able to travel with the band to out of town football games and marching contests.
That specification is added on top of the needs for being weatherproof, wind resistant, and capable of being installed and handled by gangly mobs of fourteen to eighteen year-old kids wielding trumpets and tubas and possibly those wearing skimpy sequined majorette costumes.
As has become a usual occurrence recently, my blogging has suffered at the hands of commercial enterprise. OK, maybe a combination of commercial and philanthropic enterprise, but reduced writing has resulted none the less.
I'm just having a hard time mustering the energy to bitch about everything that needs to be bitched about in the world these days.
For instance, the ENTIRE time I've been sitting here writing this posting FOX News has been freaking out about a purported bomb plot being thwarted near Piccadilly Circus in London this morning.
This on the heels of Tony Blair basically being pushed from the office of Prime Minister as a result of his ongoing support for the war on
Go figure...
So now I have to get back to putting the final details on some smoke stack drawings, go over to Brunswick to pay for and pick up my Building Permit, stop by the cigar store to buy cigars and possibly wander back over to the swimming pool to contemplate my charmed existence.
I hope you have an equally satisfying day.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Here's My Smokestack
You Want Some Fries With That???
I was just wondering how I could present one of my AutoCAD drawings here on the blog, so I did a little fiddling around.
It was actually pretty easy. I just copied the image to the clipboard, then pasted it into Photoshop and saved it as a JPEG file.
Here, take a peek at what I've been designing:
I was just wondering how I could present one of my AutoCAD drawings here on the blog, so I did a little fiddling around.
It was actually pretty easy. I just copied the image to the clipboard, then pasted it into Photoshop and saved it as a JPEG file.
Here, take a peek at what I've been designing:
This image is the assembled elevation view of a 115 foot tall, 9'-2" diameter exhaust stack that will be delivered this fall to a company out in California. It will weigh about 53 thousand pounds when erected.
That's a little over 25 tons for those of you that graduated from the University of Georgia.
There's also a platform around it there near the middle and an eighty foot high ladder running up the side for the adventuresome and/or athletic employees to climb when they feel like it.
This design is a relatively small structure as stacks go. The biggest I ever produced was 300' tall (again...thirty stories for the UGA crowd) and weighed in at over a quarter of a million pounds.
Actually we're building not one but TWO identical stacks for this customer, and we hope to build another design for the Sea Ray boat company down in Florida later this year.
In a past life I did this kind of work every day, and in addition to sitting on the American Society of Mechanical Engineers Steel Stack Standards Committee, I've designed and built a little over four hundred of these type structures over the past 25 years.
All in all the process is B O R I N G, but hey...it helps pay the bills...so what the heck?
I'm Staying At The Paris Hilton
Well...Maybe Not...
Why is it that virtually every single time I've elected to act like a complete, total, mindless dumbass in public either my parents or law enforcement snatched me up in the process and the experience ended up costing me time and money?
Meanwhile Miss Hilton can run around endlessly flashing her titties and insulting her grandfather's legacy and network TV and at least half of the world's population applauds her thoughtless efforts.
Like the old saying goes, "Life's a Bitch, then you die (or marry one...)"
I have to go now and draw some more lines on the computer screen.
Why is it that virtually every single time I've elected to act like a complete, total, mindless dumbass in public either my parents or law enforcement snatched me up in the process and the experience ended up costing me time and money?
Meanwhile Miss Hilton can run around endlessly flashing her titties and insulting her grandfather's legacy and network TV and at least half of the world's population applauds her thoughtless efforts.
Like the old saying goes, "Life's a Bitch, then you die (or marry one...)"
I have to go now and draw some more lines on the computer screen.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Mental Flatulence
Oh That Aroma...
We'll...I'm still here...sitting in front of the computer, drawing lines.
The pool calls, but I refuse to listen.
All work and no play makes Virgil a dull boy.
We'll...I'm still here...sitting in front of the computer, drawing lines.
The pool calls, but I refuse to listen.
All work and no play makes Virgil a dull boy.
Expert Incompetence
High Priced Bad Advice...
After bouncing around in the 1980's and finally finishing college and beginning my work career as a mechanical engineer, my Father told me a silly joke which I still remember today and has a good deal of applicability to my current situation.
It goes something like this:
Do you know what an "Expert" is?
No?
Well..."Ex" means former...right?
And a "spurt" is nothing but a simple "drip" of liquid (water, urine, etc.)...under pressure...
Right?
So, using that logic, an "EXPERT" is nothing but a former drip under pressure.
Using that description, I know one very good example of an "Expert" which does his business somewhere out in the great state of Colorado right now, charges a premium for his services, and knows virtually NOTHING about the topics which he addresses.
I've forgotten more about the subject than he apparently knows today.
Dammit...
After bouncing around in the 1980's and finally finishing college and beginning my work career as a mechanical engineer, my Father told me a silly joke which I still remember today and has a good deal of applicability to my current situation.
It goes something like this:
Do you know what an "Expert" is?
No?
Well..."Ex" means former...right?
And a "spurt" is nothing but a simple "drip" of liquid (water, urine, etc.)...under pressure...
Right?
So, using that logic, an "EXPERT" is nothing but a former drip under pressure.
Using that description, I know one very good example of an "Expert" which does his business somewhere out in the great state of Colorado right now, charges a premium for his services, and knows virtually NOTHING about the topics which he addresses.
I've forgotten more about the subject than he apparently knows today.
Dammit...
Sunday, June 24, 2007
My Body's Medium Rare
...But My Application's Well Done
Well, after spending most of the weekend's daylight hours roasting myself beside the swimming pool drinking white wine, smoking cheep cigars, and generally doing anything else I could come up with to avoid actually working, it looks like I'll be making it down to the Building inspectors office later this morning.
In addition to my application for a building permit and three sets of drawings (eight 11" x 17" pages each,) I'll also be tendering a check for $96 for the permit and another for $25 to cover the so-called "drawing review fee" that I just found out about in re-reading the instructions.
Isn't that a neat idea...demand that people send you drawings in triplicate and then charge a "fee" to actually look at them?
Only the government can get away with this type of crap, in my opinion.
I think that I'll start my own government office called the "Junk Mail Review Authority", then get some lawyers and a couple of judges to demand that random citizens be required to send me their junk mail along with their spare change to cover my costs to read it and throw it into the trashcan for them.
If you ever got caught wearing black or white socks with sandals while on vacation down here on our little island you can count on being included on my list of customers for my services.
Any way, the skin on my face and shoulders is in that just on the verge of being burned mode where my forehead keeps the wrinkles like I'm in a constant state of surprise or am thinking very seriously about something. I don't hurt or anything, but another 30 minutes here or there spent in the sun would push me across that invisible boundary from well baked to sunburned.
Now I have to shift gears and start flogging a couple of other projects, one a paying enterprise and another a non-paying venture, before an angry mob of band parents and a couple of businessmen from South Carolina appear on my doorstep wielding clubs and torches.
I've promised myself that I'll have my California smokestack project finished by the end of the month, and since the end of the month occurs this week I guess the writing is on the wall (or in this case on the computer monitor.)
Just in case you too have been busy earning a living or taking vacation, let me remind you that our national legislative bodies and executive (otherwise known as both houses of the US Congress and the President) are quietly resurrecting their "immigration reform bill" and will probably have something passed through at least one group of overpaid irresponsible elected morons later this week.
Using the same logic, I just wish that I could have broken into Switzerland in 1980 when I was 21 and gotten away with hanging out my own shingle as an engineer and ski instructor...without having to show a passport or visa or any other form of personal documentation.
Then instead of landing in jail on immigration charges or being deported back to Alabama, I would of had a bunch of limp wristed panty waisted liberals run around waiving their arms over their heads and pleading my case that I NEEDED to be allowed to remain in Europe because of the shortage of mountains, deep powder snow, and of blond headed blue eyed babes named Olga found wandering around in parkas and tight ski pants in the flatland forests of the southeastern United States.
No, that wouldn't happen then and it won't be happening any time in the near future...not until there is substantial quantities of frozen precipitation occurring in Hades.
Well, after spending most of the weekend's daylight hours roasting myself beside the swimming pool drinking white wine, smoking cheep cigars, and generally doing anything else I could come up with to avoid actually working, it looks like I'll be making it down to the Building inspectors office later this morning.
In addition to my application for a building permit and three sets of drawings (eight 11" x 17" pages each,) I'll also be tendering a check for $96 for the permit and another for $25 to cover the so-called "drawing review fee" that I just found out about in re-reading the instructions.
Isn't that a neat idea...demand that people send you drawings in triplicate and then charge a "fee" to actually look at them?
Only the government can get away with this type of crap, in my opinion.
I think that I'll start my own government office called the "Junk Mail Review Authority", then get some lawyers and a couple of judges to demand that random citizens be required to send me their junk mail along with their spare change to cover my costs to read it and throw it into the trashcan for them.
If you ever got caught wearing black or white socks with sandals while on vacation down here on our little island you can count on being included on my list of customers for my services.
Any way, the skin on my face and shoulders is in that just on the verge of being burned mode where my forehead keeps the wrinkles like I'm in a constant state of surprise or am thinking very seriously about something. I don't hurt or anything, but another 30 minutes here or there spent in the sun would push me across that invisible boundary from well baked to sunburned.
Now I have to shift gears and start flogging a couple of other projects, one a paying enterprise and another a non-paying venture, before an angry mob of band parents and a couple of businessmen from South Carolina appear on my doorstep wielding clubs and torches.
I've promised myself that I'll have my California smokestack project finished by the end of the month, and since the end of the month occurs this week I guess the writing is on the wall (or in this case on the computer monitor.)
Just in case you too have been busy earning a living or taking vacation, let me remind you that our national legislative bodies and executive (otherwise known as both houses of the US Congress and the President) are quietly resurrecting their "immigration reform bill" and will probably have something passed through at least one group of overpaid irresponsible elected morons later this week.
Using the same logic, I just wish that I could have broken into Switzerland in 1980 when I was 21 and gotten away with hanging out my own shingle as an engineer and ski instructor...without having to show a passport or visa or any other form of personal documentation.
Then instead of landing in jail on immigration charges or being deported back to Alabama, I would of had a bunch of limp wristed panty waisted liberals run around waiving their arms over their heads and pleading my case that I NEEDED to be allowed to remain in Europe because of the shortage of mountains, deep powder snow, and of blond headed blue eyed babes named Olga found wandering around in parkas and tight ski pants in the flatland forests of the southeastern United States.
No, that wouldn't happen then and it won't be happening any time in the near future...not until there is substantial quantities of frozen precipitation occurring in Hades.
Doing Everything Twice Now
No Good Deed Goes Unpunished...
Sorry, but just in case you haven't noticed, I have to admit that I've been spending much of my time away from my keyboard the past few days. That wouldn't necessarily a bad thing in my opinion, IF I could say that I've actually accomplished anything in the process.
It would seem that I'm doomed to doing almost everything at least twice and, if I do manage to finish any given task, at least two other projects end up sitting and festering in various states of incompleteness while I spin around in circles pulling what's left of my hair out.
This process of taking one step forward, followed by two steps backward began last Wednesday while working on my renovation project. That day found me bumbling around up on a ladder holding a giant 12 foot long double 2x8 header over my head and managing to knock over a couple of loose 2x4's on top of our portable Sony radio.
It seems to still pick up radio stations OK without an antenna, as long as the radio station is next door or down the street a short distance, but now Pat will be taking a shiny new Sony AM/FM/CD Player that set me back about $50 out to the swimming pool as a penance for my ineptitude while the old antenna-less box is relegated to residing in a pile of sawdust on the jobsite from now on.
When I got home Wednesday evening I found that the little clear 40 watt light bulb that I had purchased to install in the back the the clothes dryer drum was in about twenty pieces inside the clear plastic package--also an apparent victim of my ham-fisted handling. I managed to buy another one and get it home in one piece yesterday. It isn't installed, however, so I still have time to break this one also if I'm not careful.
Thursday was a red letter day on our calendar as Pat and I signed a lease on a nice three bedroom house located down on the middle of the island near the airport. In addition to a formal living room & dining room, we're also getting a fireplace in the den and a garagefor my hobbies and all my construction junk to live in for one of the cars to sit in out of the weather.
Missy, the "Turbo Pup" miniature Dachshund will benefit from having a fenced back yard to rumble around in at her leisure instead of spending her life asking to go outside attached to a leash like we have to make her do living here in the condo. I guess that you could say that everyone here in my household is excited, but I have a sense of dread lingering in the back of my skull knowing that everything I own has to be crammed into a box and put on a truck by August 1st.
Continuing along with my dissertation...
Friday was a relatively uneventful day, with me spending about four hours putting together the wet wall in the new laundry room in the Duplex and having my large format prints of my two photos show up via UPS--giving me a week to get things matted, framed, and ready for the "Welcome To My World" Photo Exhibit that opens next Saturday at the Mallory street Glynn Arts Association Gallery.
For once I was ahead of schedule and had plenty of time to finish my presentation, but then disaster struck Saturday morning when my friend Traci managed to put a couple of big finger prints in the middle of one of the $50 prints while measuring it for a mat and frame. We both felt terrible, but she graciously offered to buy another copy of the print at her cost and I placed the order once we arrived home from a trip to Walmart.
I managed to break the second light bulb of the week Saturday afternoon while attempting to be a good samaritan by replacing the light in the ladies' restroom at our pool house. Standing on my tiptoes to reach the fixture, I moved to adjust my position and dropped the bulb on the concrete floor, scattering glass shards over the entire bathroom floor and out onto the adjacent carpeted area.
Twenty minutes later I had managed to clean up the fruits of my efforts by dragging our upright vacuum down from the condo and sucking up all the glass shards (and hair and funk.) I'm sorry to report that my charitable spirit died sometime during the process and the ladies' room is still dark at this moment.
I did finally manage to almost get myself a nice sunburn while sitting around poolside drinking wine and waiting for a batch of my pizza dough to rise. Pizza has now become a weekend tradition for our household here on our little island.
A couple of weeks ago I made a little separate pizza for Missy the "turbo pup", and ever since then I've had not two but three mouths to feed on Saturday afternoon with my home made pizza.
Last evening was no exception, and the little hound diligently sat by her food bowl full of designer dog food and waited for me to cut up a small slice of pizza, let it cool, and place it in a bowl on the floor in the kitchen. She seems to like the crust, cheese, and pepperoni, but is a bit undecided about the Mushrooms and Black Olives.
So any way, Sunday will be spent finishing up some drawings for the Duplex project and possibly making another trip to the pool, and maybe then I'll have time to get angry about the news and write something interesting for everyone to read.
Until then, best regards y'all
Sorry, but just in case you haven't noticed, I have to admit that I've been spending much of my time away from my keyboard the past few days. That wouldn't necessarily a bad thing in my opinion, IF I could say that I've actually accomplished anything in the process.
It would seem that I'm doomed to doing almost everything at least twice and, if I do manage to finish any given task, at least two other projects end up sitting and festering in various states of incompleteness while I spin around in circles pulling what's left of my hair out.
This process of taking one step forward, followed by two steps backward began last Wednesday while working on my renovation project. That day found me bumbling around up on a ladder holding a giant 12 foot long double 2x8 header over my head and managing to knock over a couple of loose 2x4's on top of our portable Sony radio.
It seems to still pick up radio stations OK without an antenna, as long as the radio station is next door or down the street a short distance, but now Pat will be taking a shiny new Sony AM/FM/CD Player that set me back about $50 out to the swimming pool as a penance for my ineptitude while the old antenna-less box is relegated to residing in a pile of sawdust on the jobsite from now on.
When I got home Wednesday evening I found that the little clear 40 watt light bulb that I had purchased to install in the back the the clothes dryer drum was in about twenty pieces inside the clear plastic package--also an apparent victim of my ham-fisted handling. I managed to buy another one and get it home in one piece yesterday. It isn't installed, however, so I still have time to break this one also if I'm not careful.
Thursday was a red letter day on our calendar as Pat and I signed a lease on a nice three bedroom house located down on the middle of the island near the airport. In addition to a formal living room & dining room, we're also getting a fireplace in the den and a garage
Missy, the "Turbo Pup" miniature Dachshund will benefit from having a fenced back yard to rumble around in at her leisure instead of spending her life asking to go outside attached to a leash like we have to make her do living here in the condo. I guess that you could say that everyone here in my household is excited, but I have a sense of dread lingering in the back of my skull knowing that everything I own has to be crammed into a box and put on a truck by August 1st.
Continuing along with my dissertation...
Friday was a relatively uneventful day, with me spending about four hours putting together the wet wall in the new laundry room in the Duplex and having my large format prints of my two photos show up via UPS--giving me a week to get things matted, framed, and ready for the "Welcome To My World" Photo Exhibit that opens next Saturday at the Mallory street Glynn Arts Association Gallery.
For once I was ahead of schedule and had plenty of time to finish my presentation, but then disaster struck Saturday morning when my friend Traci managed to put a couple of big finger prints in the middle of one of the $50 prints while measuring it for a mat and frame. We both felt terrible, but she graciously offered to buy another copy of the print at her cost and I placed the order once we arrived home from a trip to Walmart.
I managed to break the second light bulb of the week Saturday afternoon while attempting to be a good samaritan by replacing the light in the ladies' restroom at our pool house. Standing on my tiptoes to reach the fixture, I moved to adjust my position and dropped the bulb on the concrete floor, scattering glass shards over the entire bathroom floor and out onto the adjacent carpeted area.
Twenty minutes later I had managed to clean up the fruits of my efforts by dragging our upright vacuum down from the condo and sucking up all the glass shards (and hair and funk.) I'm sorry to report that my charitable spirit died sometime during the process and the ladies' room is still dark at this moment.
I did finally manage to almost get myself a nice sunburn while sitting around poolside drinking wine and waiting for a batch of my pizza dough to rise. Pizza has now become a weekend tradition for our household here on our little island.
A couple of weeks ago I made a little separate pizza for Missy the "turbo pup", and ever since then I've had not two but three mouths to feed on Saturday afternoon with my home made pizza.
Last evening was no exception, and the little hound diligently sat by her food bowl full of designer dog food and waited for me to cut up a small slice of pizza, let it cool, and place it in a bowl on the floor in the kitchen. She seems to like the crust, cheese, and pepperoni, but is a bit undecided about the Mushrooms and Black Olives.
So any way, Sunday will be spent finishing up some drawings for the Duplex project and possibly making another trip to the pool, and maybe then I'll have time to get angry about the news and write something interesting for everyone to read.
Until then, best regards y'all
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Tropical Weather
Ya Gotta Love It...
In case that you haven't noticed or I've failed to mention it, I plan my life these days around what I see on the NOAA Website and the Weather Channel.
As I've said before, if I was 17 years old again instead of 47 and I knew what I know now about the development of career opportunities for weather nerds I would have studied meteorology in college instead of engineering and you would possibly be able to tune in and see my ever greying, ever balding head on TV instead of Jim Cantori's shiny knob each evening.
Early this morning I noticed that the radar loop out of Jacksonville looked like we had a slight rotation in the weather sitting offshore between our little island and Daytona.
Now the weather nerds over at the Weather Channel are talking about it causing the Space Shuttle having to scrub it's landing plans twice today and I'm looking outside at wind gusts up near 30 MPH and a nice rain falling--thereby preventing my afternoon bike ride over to pick up a copy of the local newspaper from the Sea Palms Clubhouse.
That's OK, because I have a new generator, insurance, and gallons of drinking water standing by just in case another Katrina-like event stands up and blows us all away overnight.
I've taken a day off from the jobsite and spent the time finishing up eight pages of drawings for the Duplex renovation, and after an early morning trip tomorrow morning to Home Depot and Walmart I'll once again be grinding around building new wall framing and punching holes in concrete block.
Thank goodness my existing debris covered roof is still sound so I can work inside in the crappy weather that is apparently going to be with us through the weekend.
Y'all have a Happy Summer Solstice...enjoy the day with longest period of daylight of the year, if you will...
In case that you haven't noticed or I've failed to mention it, I plan my life these days around what I see on the NOAA Website and the Weather Channel.
As I've said before, if I was 17 years old again instead of 47 and I knew what I know now about the development of career opportunities for weather nerds I would have studied meteorology in college instead of engineering and you would possibly be able to tune in and see my ever greying, ever balding head on TV instead of Jim Cantori's shiny knob each evening.
Early this morning I noticed that the radar loop out of Jacksonville looked like we had a slight rotation in the weather sitting offshore between our little island and Daytona.
Now the weather nerds over at the Weather Channel are talking about it causing the Space Shuttle having to scrub it's landing plans twice today and I'm looking outside at wind gusts up near 30 MPH and a nice rain falling--thereby preventing my afternoon bike ride over to pick up a copy of the local newspaper from the Sea Palms Clubhouse.
That's OK, because I have a new generator, insurance, and gallons of drinking water standing by just in case another Katrina-like event stands up and blows us all away overnight.
I've taken a day off from the jobsite and spent the time finishing up eight pages of drawings for the Duplex renovation, and after an early morning trip tomorrow morning to Home Depot and Walmart I'll once again be grinding around building new wall framing and punching holes in concrete block.
Thank goodness my existing debris covered roof is still sound so I can work inside in the crappy weather that is apparently going to be with us through the weekend.
Y'all have a Happy Summer Solstice...enjoy the day with longest period of daylight of the year, if you will...
Still Infected
Anyone Have Any Digital Penicillin?
I'm sorry to report that my computer spent most of yesterday afternoon and the early evening either hiccuping , farting, and belching, else it was tied up spinning and banging and whirling around as it was being scanned by my Norton 360 software for the same fungus that's had us in it's grips since last Friday.
I was afraid to touch it during most of the process for fear of catching the same infection in the cuticles of my toes or somewhere else important like my crotch or gums, so not much got done around here since about 3 PM yesterday.
Once I revived myself and tried to get going again about 2:00 AM things seem to be OK as I haven't been interrupted by any fake Bellsouth DSL screens thus far this morning.
I'm not holding my breath, however.
I absolutely have to get my building permit application delivered to the City of Brunswick in the next couple of days else I'm going to be finished with the job and have the building inspectors kicking me in the head with stupid details that really don't matter in retribution for violating their government imposed rules.
I find it to somehow be damming that the government gets in the way of me improving a building that was built in 1959 and currently has clunky plumbing and no central AC or heat.
Who are they to tell me that if I don't leave things in their current ancient decrepit state that I have to jump through flaming hoops wearing $150 running shoes and pay them $90 for a permit to work on MY BUILDING.
MY BUILDING.
The building that I paid cash for a little over three years ago and have dropped another $1,000 of tax money on since then.
The building that one dumbass left in the middle of the night owing me $825 worth of past due rent money two years ago.
Yes...THAT building.
Screw the government...if they don't like it I'll tear the whole thing down and pay reduces taxes on the bare dirt like the guys did next door and across the street.
Dammit...
I'm sorry to report that my computer spent most of yesterday afternoon and the early evening either hiccuping , farting, and belching, else it was tied up spinning and banging and whirling around as it was being scanned by my Norton 360 software for the same fungus that's had us in it's grips since last Friday.
I was afraid to touch it during most of the process for fear of catching the same infection in the cuticles of my toes or somewhere else important like my crotch or gums, so not much got done around here since about 3 PM yesterday.
Once I revived myself and tried to get going again about 2:00 AM things seem to be OK as I haven't been interrupted by any fake Bellsouth DSL screens thus far this morning.
I'm not holding my breath, however.
I absolutely have to get my building permit application delivered to the City of Brunswick in the next couple of days else I'm going to be finished with the job and have the building inspectors kicking me in the head with stupid details that really don't matter in retribution for violating their government imposed rules.
I find it to somehow be damming that the government gets in the way of me improving a building that was built in 1959 and currently has clunky plumbing and no central AC or heat.
Who are they to tell me that if I don't leave things in their current ancient decrepit state that I have to jump through flaming hoops wearing $150 running shoes and pay them $90 for a permit to work on MY BUILDING.
MY BUILDING.
The building that I paid cash for a little over three years ago and have dropped another $1,000 of tax money on since then.
The building that one dumbass left in the middle of the night owing me $825 worth of past due rent money two years ago.
Yes...THAT building.
Screw the government...if they don't like it I'll tear the whole thing down and pay reduces taxes on the bare dirt like the guys did next door and across the street.
Dammit...
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Official Transcripts
Local Stupidity...
It's a wonder I've managed to not kill a couple of the so called Condo Board Members or at least bruise some of our tourists (smiting them with the jawbone of an Ass or some other appropriate measure) thus far in the process of residing here in paradise.
Here's a sample of some of the stuff that goes on down here on our little island. First there is this little slice of the going's on from February of this year:
Dumbass A: "Gosh..look at that bicycle rack that's been sitting over there unused most of the time for at least the past three years. "
Dumbass B: "Yep, I just noticed it because those "mere renters" up there in "D" building started parking their bright shiny new $600 bicycles there back in November."
Dumbass A: "You know that the Condo Covenants say that all bicycles have to be stored inside the utility rooms, even if the utility rooms are full of various bullshit that the property management company never bothers to remove to the dump and the only bicycle rack in the D building is loaded with crappy abandoned bicycles with flat tires that haven't been used in this decade?"
Dumbass B: "Oh the injustice...I Know...Let's correct this situation by dragging the bicycle rack with the two shiny new $600 bicycles attached to the rack by cable locks out of the breezeway and around the corner, across the lawn, into the utility room where they belong."
"Then we can cram them right in there tight beside the trash cans. Forget the fact that we could easily walk upstairs and ask the owners (you know, the "mere renters") to open their combination locks while we move the rack on short notice...after all...we're in charge of busting"mere renter's" chops in the process ofmiss-managment our micromanagement of the Condo Association Ordinances."
Dumbass A: "Yeah..sounds like a good idea to me..that'll teach those mean old "mere renters" to clutter up the property."
Now fast forward your clock and calendar to June of 2007, and take a listen:
Dumbass C: "Oh my, oh my, how will we ever cram our shiny new piece of shit bicycles into the utility room racks in order to comply with Grandma's Condo Association ordinances?"
Dumbass D: "Just twist those other bikes (you know..the aforementioned shiny new $600 bikes that were dragged across the lawn attached to the aforementioned bicycle rack that had been sitting in the breezeway for at least three years previously) over at a 45 degree angle out of the way and force our bikes into the rack--God forbid that we park them on the balcony or leave them on the sidewalk for the few days that we are here--thereby violating the Condo Association Covenants...How dare they be "mere renters" and clutter up the place365 days a year with their stuff..."
Dumbass E: "Hey, this is a really neat LED battery powered headlight--I need something like this...so I'll just take it off Virgil's, the "mere renter's" bike, and take it home with me..."
Dumbass A: "Heh, serves them right...Damn Republicans..."
It's a wonder I've managed to not kill a couple of the so called Condo Board Members or at least bruise some of our tourists (smiting them with the jawbone of an Ass or some other appropriate measure) thus far in the process of residing here in paradise.
Here's a sample of some of the stuff that goes on down here on our little island. First there is this little slice of the going's on from February of this year:
Dumbass A: "Gosh..look at that bicycle rack that's been sitting over there unused most of the time for at least the past three years. "
Dumbass B: "Yep, I just noticed it because those "mere renters" up there in "D" building started parking their bright shiny new $600 bicycles there back in November."
Dumbass A: "You know that the Condo Covenants say that all bicycles have to be stored inside the utility rooms, even if the utility rooms are full of various bullshit that the property management company never bothers to remove to the dump and the only bicycle rack in the D building is loaded with crappy abandoned bicycles with flat tires that haven't been used in this decade?"
Dumbass B: "Oh the injustice...I Know...Let's correct this situation by dragging the bicycle rack with the two shiny new $600 bicycles attached to the rack by cable locks out of the breezeway and around the corner, across the lawn, into the utility room where they belong."
"Then we can cram them right in there tight beside the trash cans. Forget the fact that we could easily walk upstairs and ask the owners (you know, the "mere renters") to open their combination locks while we move the rack on short notice...after all...we're in charge of busting"mere renter's" chops in the process of
Dumbass A: "Yeah..sounds like a good idea to me..that'll teach those mean old "mere renters" to clutter up the property."
Now fast forward your clock and calendar to June of 2007, and take a listen:
Dumbass C: "Oh my, oh my, how will we ever cram our shiny new piece of shit bicycles into the utility room racks in order to comply with Grandma's Condo Association ordinances?"
Dumbass D: "Just twist those other bikes (you know..the aforementioned shiny new $600 bikes that were dragged across the lawn attached to the aforementioned bicycle rack that had been sitting in the breezeway for at least three years previously) over at a 45 degree angle out of the way and force our bikes into the rack--God forbid that we park them on the balcony or leave them on the sidewalk for the few days that we are here--thereby violating the Condo Association Covenants...How dare they be "mere renters" and clutter up the place365 days a year with their stuff..."
Dumbass E: "Hey, this is a really neat LED battery powered headlight--I need something like this...so I'll just take it off Virgil's, the "mere renter's" bike, and take it home with me..."
Dumbass A: "Heh, serves them right...Damn Republicans..."
Who Are These People?
And Why Do I Have To Keep Providing Them With Oxygen and Money?
It seems that NY City Mayor Bloomberg is running around out there putting his money (and other donors money) where his mouth is, and the "advocates" for the homeless and the poor don't like the concept of responsibility and the correlation between choices, decisions, and life's outcomes:
NEW YORK - Poor residents will be rewarded for good behavior — like $300 for doing well on school tests, $150 for holding a job and $200 for visiting the doctor — under an experimental anti-poverty program that city officials detailed Monday.
The rewards have been used in other countries, including Brazil and Mexico, and have drawn widespread praise for changing behavior among the poor. Mayor Michael Bloomberg traveled to Mexico this spring to study the healthy lifestyle payments, also known as conditional cash transfers.
In New York, the two-year pilot program with about 14,000 participants will use private funds Bloomberg has raised because he did not want to spend government money on something that is highly experimental. More than $43 million has been raised toward the $53 million goal, Deputy Mayor Linda Gibbs said.
The theory behind cash rewards is that poor people are trapped in a cycle of repeated setbacks that keep them from climbing out of poverty. A person who doesn't keep up with his vaccinations and doctor's visits, for example, may get sick more often and struggle to stay employed.
Bloomberg, a billionaire Republican, said he believes paying people in such circumstances to make good decisions could help break those patterns. The program "gives New Yorkers in poverty a financial incentive to look ahead and make decisions that will improve their prospects for the future," he said in a statement.
But some critics have raised questions about cash reward programs, saying they promote the misguided idea that poor people could be successful if they just made better choices.
"It just reinforces the impression that if everybody would just work hard enough and change their personal behavior we could solve poverty in this country, and that's not reflected in the facts," said Margy Waller, co-founder of Inclusion, a research and policy group in Washington.
Waller, who served as a domestic policy adviser in the Clinton administration, said it would be more effective to focus on labor issues, such as making sure wage laws are enforced and improving benefits for working people.
Among the possible rewards in New York's program are $25 for attending parent-teacher conferences, $25 per month for a child who maintains a 95 percent school attendance record, $400 for graduating high school, $100 for each family member who sees the dentist every six months and $150 a month for adults who work full time.
Can you believe this crap...this idiot Ms. Waller bitching about people GIVING money willingly to people to help them change their lifestyle and conditions versus using the GOVERNMENT to FORCE private citizens to pay artificially high wages and pay taxes so that the government can try to accomplish exactly the same goals with the typical lack of success we've all seen since President Johnson's social experiments of the 1960's first took effect.
Look at this again...
But some critics have raised questions about cash reward programs, saying they promote the misguided idea that poor people could be successful if they just made better choices.
"It just reinforces the impression that if everybody would just work hard enough and change their personal behavior we could solve poverty in this country, and that's not reflected in the facts," said Margy Waller, co-founder of Inclusion, a research and policy group in Washington.
negros, blacks, African Americans, people of color should take a good look at Jessy Jackson and Al Sharpton and see where their bread is buttered in the process.
It seems that NY City Mayor Bloomberg is running around out there putting his money (and other donors money) where his mouth is, and the "advocates" for the homeless and the poor don't like the concept of responsibility and the correlation between choices, decisions, and life's outcomes:
NEW YORK - Poor residents will be rewarded for good behavior — like $300 for doing well on school tests, $150 for holding a job and $200 for visiting the doctor — under an experimental anti-poverty program that city officials detailed Monday.
The rewards have been used in other countries, including Brazil and Mexico, and have drawn widespread praise for changing behavior among the poor. Mayor Michael Bloomberg traveled to Mexico this spring to study the healthy lifestyle payments, also known as conditional cash transfers.
In New York, the two-year pilot program with about 14,000 participants will use private funds Bloomberg has raised because he did not want to spend government money on something that is highly experimental. More than $43 million has been raised toward the $53 million goal, Deputy Mayor Linda Gibbs said.
The theory behind cash rewards is that poor people are trapped in a cycle of repeated setbacks that keep them from climbing out of poverty. A person who doesn't keep up with his vaccinations and doctor's visits, for example, may get sick more often and struggle to stay employed.
Bloomberg, a billionaire Republican, said he believes paying people in such circumstances to make good decisions could help break those patterns. The program "gives New Yorkers in poverty a financial incentive to look ahead and make decisions that will improve their prospects for the future," he said in a statement.
But some critics have raised questions about cash reward programs, saying they promote the misguided idea that poor people could be successful if they just made better choices.
"It just reinforces the impression that if everybody would just work hard enough and change their personal behavior we could solve poverty in this country, and that's not reflected in the facts," said Margy Waller, co-founder of Inclusion, a research and policy group in Washington.
Waller, who served as a domestic policy adviser in the Clinton administration, said it would be more effective to focus on labor issues, such as making sure wage laws are enforced and improving benefits for working people.
Among the possible rewards in New York's program are $25 for attending parent-teacher conferences, $25 per month for a child who maintains a 95 percent school attendance record, $400 for graduating high school, $100 for each family member who sees the dentist every six months and $150 a month for adults who work full time.
Can you believe this crap...this idiot Ms. Waller bitching about people GIVING money willingly to people to help them change their lifestyle and conditions versus using the GOVERNMENT to FORCE private citizens to pay artificially high wages and pay taxes so that the government can try to accomplish exactly the same goals with the typical lack of success we've all seen since President Johnson's social experiments of the 1960's first took effect.
Look at this again...
But some critics have raised questions about cash reward programs, saying they promote the misguided idea that poor people could be successful if they just made better choices.
"It just reinforces the impression that if everybody would just work hard enough and change their personal behavior we could solve poverty in this country, and that's not reflected in the facts," said Margy Waller, co-founder of Inclusion, a research and policy group in Washington.
I don't know about you, but in my opinion it's experts and government idiots like this that keep the poor poor. While we're at it, I think that all of the
Birthday Girl
Everybody Run...It's A Wild Dog...
Here's a picture of a sweet little girl that just turned six months old at our house today...
Happy Birthday Miss "Missy."
Here's a picture of a sweet little girl that just turned six months old at our house today...
Happy Birthday Miss "Missy."
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Seek & Yea Shall Find
Amazing Realizations...
Believe it or not, within 12 hours of my posting Norton 360, I received this E-Mail communication from Cicilia Daclan at Symantec:
Dear Mr. Rogers,
I ran across your blog post below about Norton 360. I'm sorry you're running into issues with your computer moving in slow motion. I can't say for certain what could be causing this as I'm not a technical support representative, but if you are open to it, I can put you in touch with one over the phone. They can help troubleshoot the issue.
If you are interested, please provide me with your telephone number so they can contact you.
Regards,
Cecilia
First of all...let me state that I'm amazed that my little blog goes where it goes and is read by as many people as it is from time to time.
Next, let me state that I might have been premature in asserting that the Norton 360 product was the source of everything negative that was happening here on my computer over the past few days.
I in fact said the same thing in my answer to Miss Cecilia:
Miss Daclan,
Thank you for your offer.
I must admit that I may have been a bit premature in publicly lamenting the performance issues I'm experiencing and blaming your company's product in the process.
I am committed to correcting my system problems and following up my experience in writing on my blog to set the record straight when I finish. I will contact your customer support if and when I finish reading the help sections on setting up the software and IF I am still unable to correct the situation.
In my defense, there does seem to be some "spyware/malware" residing on my computer that has as yet to be purged by your company's product and is the source of at least some of my performance problems. I've reported the site online to Norton and hope to have things cleared up in short order.
Again, thank you for your prompt response. It is quite surprising to me the reach a simple little blog posting has on the World Wide Web, and it is nice to know that your company and it's employees are paying attention.
Best Regards,
Virgil Rogers
Meanwhile, I've got a Dynamic Vibration Absorber to design...so I've got to go now...
Believe it or not, within 12 hours of my posting Norton 360, I received this E-Mail communication from Cicilia Daclan at Symantec:
Dear Mr. Rogers,
I ran across your blog post below about Norton 360. I'm sorry you're running into issues with your computer moving in slow motion. I can't say for certain what could be causing this as I'm not a technical support representative, but if you are open to it, I can put you in touch with one over the phone. They can help troubleshoot the issue.
If you are interested, please provide me with your telephone number so they can contact you.
Regards,
Cecilia
First of all...let me state that I'm amazed that my little blog goes where it goes and is read by as many people as it is from time to time.
Next, let me state that I might have been premature in asserting that the Norton 360 product was the source of everything negative that was happening here on my computer over the past few days.
I in fact said the same thing in my answer to Miss Cecilia:
Miss Daclan,
Thank you for your offer.
I must admit that I may have been a bit premature in publicly lamenting the performance issues I'm experiencing and blaming your company's product in the process.
I am committed to correcting my system problems and following up my experience in writing on my blog to set the record straight when I finish. I will contact your customer support if and when I finish reading the help sections on setting up the software and IF I am still unable to correct the situation.
In my defense, there does seem to be some "spyware/malware" residing on my computer that has as yet to be purged by your company's product and is the source of at least some of my performance problems. I've reported the site online to Norton and hope to have things cleared up in short order.
Again, thank you for your prompt response. It is quite surprising to me the reach a simple little blog posting has on the World Wide Web, and it is nice to know that your company and it's employees are paying attention.
Best Regards,
Virgil Rogers
Meanwhile, I've got a Dynamic Vibration Absorber to design...so I've got to go now...
Monday, June 18, 2007
Virgil 1...Software 0
I Beat Myself...
After wrestling around with my computer for almost four days, things are almost back to normal here in the Golden Isles--at least in our residence in the Sea Palms Community.
As a result of my new technical success, and since the letter came today from the Glynn Art Association accepting my work "Night Vision," I thought I'd take this opportunity to show it to you:
After wrestling around with my computer for almost four days, things are almost back to normal here in the Golden Isles--at least in our residence in the Sea Palms Community.
As a result of my new technical success, and since the letter came today from the Glynn Art Association accepting my work "Night Vision," I thought I'd take this opportunity to show it to you:
(final image to be 32" wide x 14" high)
It's a PhotoShop edited inversion of a photo of a cypress tree swamp I found beside the road last fall somewhere down between Tallahassee and Mexico Beach, Florida.
And then there is something I call "Just Looking":
(final image 24" wide x 30" high)
I made this photo last winter of some Turkey Buzzards roosting up in a dead tree on the north end of our little island. Again, Photoshop was employed to do a "negative inversion" effect on the original color image taken on a dreary day.
Both will be professionally printed out in California from my digital files, hurredly shipped to me via UPS or Fed EX, and framed and matted by my friend Tracy over at Artisan's frame shop in Brunswick.
Then I'm going to toss them on the wall down on Mallory street on June 30th and step back and wait for the dust to settle in the exhibit which runs through the month of July.
Wish me luck, if you will...
Norton 360
Let Me Pay You To Torture Me
OK...I guess that I have to admit that I'm guilty of mindless consumerism.
You see, last Friday I realized that my HP Notebook must have picked up some kind of web based Fungus because every time I clicked on the Internet Explorer Icon I ended up looking at a BellSouth DSL connection screen with the User Name and Password already filled in.
If you waited around for a few seconds the password screen would disappear and be replaced with a "You have successfully logged into Bellsouth DSL service.'
Funny thing--there's no telephone line connected to my computer. I guess that I should feel privileged to have free DSL service without the bother of hooking a RJ11 cable to my computer
Somewhere back here in the real world I realized that since I use a Comcast cable modem, I must be looking at the product of some useless asshole's efforts that elects to break into complete stranger's homes to perpetrate crimes.
I hope that important body parts rot and fall off of such sub-human morons.
Any way, I logged into the Symantec website with the intention of renewing my anti-virus/anti-spyware software for another year and instead I opted for the Norton Utilities 360 software package that includes backup utilities and a firewall in addition to the aforementioned features.
So far I hate it.
It's like I bolted an old Converse High Top Tennis Shoe onto a thoroughbred racehorse...
Everything seems to be moving in slow motion and the stupid Bellsouth DSL bullshit still pops up every once in a while.
This from a $59 program?
Further, now I can't get pictures to upload to Blogger to put on my websites so nobody can enjoy my fabulous photo ability that will be displayed in the upcoming "Welcome to my World" exhibit being held next month down on Mallory Street in the village here on the island.
Let me ask you:
Where do I go to complain, and can anyone tell me if I'm wrong here?
OK...I guess that I have to admit that I'm guilty of mindless consumerism.
You see, last Friday I realized that my HP Notebook must have picked up some kind of web based Fungus because every time I clicked on the Internet Explorer Icon I ended up looking at a BellSouth DSL connection screen with the User Name and Password already filled in.
If you waited around for a few seconds the password screen would disappear and be replaced with a "You have successfully logged into Bellsouth DSL service.'
Funny thing--there's no telephone line connected to my computer. I guess that I should feel privileged to have free DSL service without the bother of hooking a RJ11 cable to my computer
Somewhere back here in the real world I realized that since I use a Comcast cable modem, I must be looking at the product of some useless asshole's efforts that elects to break into complete stranger's homes to perpetrate crimes.
I hope that important body parts rot and fall off of such sub-human morons.
Any way, I logged into the Symantec website with the intention of renewing my anti-virus/anti-spyware software for another year and instead I opted for the Norton Utilities 360 software package that includes backup utilities and a firewall in addition to the aforementioned features.
So far I hate it.
It's like I bolted an old Converse High Top Tennis Shoe onto a thoroughbred racehorse...
Everything seems to be moving in slow motion and the stupid Bellsouth DSL bullshit still pops up every once in a while.
This from a $59 program?
Further, now I can't get pictures to upload to Blogger to put on my websites so nobody can enjoy my fabulous photo ability that will be displayed in the upcoming "Welcome to my World" exhibit being held next month down on Mallory Street in the village here on the island.
Let me ask you:
Where do I go to complain, and can anyone tell me if I'm wrong here?
Calling Mike Nifong
Send Him Up To The Space Station...
There is apparently a bunch of problems with flying in space these days, and no one wants to admit that things have slipped a little since we stopped letting the guys with the slide rules make the decisions and the Russians started making computers rated for space flight.
I think that in the process of reviewing the current situation that I've accidentally found a new job for recently discredited North Carolina Prosecutor Mike Nifong.
I say that NASA pack his useless, lying, lawyer ass up on the next space shuttle flight and send him into orbit, spending the balance of his life "prosecuting his agenda" on the so called "International Space Station (ISS)"
Let him sit around all day denying that there are any problems up there like he did up in Durham, NC over the past year.
Maybe he can even be persuaded to don a space suit and do a little space walking, duplicating the scene in "2001 A Space Odyssey" where "Hal" the computer cuts one of his human buddies loose for one final solo trip into the dark reaches of the great unknown.
Now that's what I'd call Poetic Justice...
There is apparently a bunch of problems with flying in space these days, and no one wants to admit that things have slipped a little since we stopped letting the guys with the slide rules make the decisions and the Russians started making computers rated for space flight.
I think that in the process of reviewing the current situation that I've accidentally found a new job for recently discredited North Carolina Prosecutor Mike Nifong.
I say that NASA pack his useless, lying, lawyer ass up on the next space shuttle flight and send him into orbit, spending the balance of his life "prosecuting his agenda" on the so called "International Space Station (ISS)"
Let him sit around all day denying that there are any problems up there like he did up in Durham, NC over the past year.
Maybe he can even be persuaded to don a space suit and do a little space walking, duplicating the scene in "2001 A Space Odyssey" where "Hal" the computer cuts one of his human buddies loose for one final solo trip into the dark reaches of the great unknown.
Now that's what I'd call Poetic Justice...
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Are You Nuts???
I KNOW That I Am...And Proud Of It
Most "Sane" people bother me.
You know the type--people like cops and judges, many lawyers, and airline pilots--people that never laugh at anything and just stare at you blankly when you tell them your best jokes.
I guess that brain surgeons fit into this category also because the last thing you want to see as the anaesthesiologist puts the mask over your nose and mouth is some guy wielding a scalpel or drill and wearing a lampshade on his head or Groucho Marx glasses with the big nose and bushy eyebrows.
That said, take a look at this story about the Pentagon considering dropping their mental health questions when considering people for a security Clearance.
WASHINGTON - U.S. troops would no longer be asked to reveal previous mental health treatment when applying for security clearances under a proposal being considered by the Pentagon.
The idea stems from the finding that service members avoid needed counseling because they believe that getting it — and acknowledging it — could cost them their clearance as well as do other harm to their careers, The Associated Press has learned.
"This is just one of several items under review by the Department of Defense and the services in an effort to remove the stigma associated with mental health issues," said Air Force Maj. Patrick Ryder.
Stigma associated with mental health issues?
What's up wit' 'dat?
I say that if any given employer, including the government, is handing out jobs and the associated paychecks that they have the right to ask any damn questions that they want.
If they don't like my answers to the questions: "Mr. Rogers, have you ever had sexual fantasies involving a midget, two chickens, and a Weed Eater," "have you ever driven a tractor wearing nothing but crotchless overalls," or "did you once purchase edible underwear that was flavored like biscuits and gravy" that they be allowed to refuse my employment at the local bait shop or boat dealership.
No lawsuits with ACLU backing and sensational appearances on the TV talk shows, I'd just have to look elsewhere for employment else keep my mouth shut in the future.
I've actually had a Secret Security Clearance for a number of years back in the 1970's and early 1980's when I worked at the US Army Aeromedical Research Laboratory at Ft. Rucker, Alabama and again when I was in the Navy Reserve at Georgia Tech.
Having a Clearance isn't any big deal really because they don't actually TELL you any secrets, they just use the clearance to find out if you are sane enough to be trusted around sharp objects and while walking up and down stairs and stuff like that.
My dad had a Top Secret clearance for most of his career as a Test Pilot and engineer for the Army and it just meant that he couldn't come home and bitch at the dinner table about the latest "magneto-hydro-dynamic-pulse-doppler-laser-nippleometer" (actually a device of my own design which can in theory determine the ambient air temperature by remotely bouncing a laser beam off of a woman's breast--I'm still doing field trials while working on the patent...) or whatever else he was working on mounting and flying around in a Chinook or Cobra helicopter.
I'm sure that Dad took some pretty interesting stories with him to his grave, but that's OK.
I had a couple of ex-wives that shouldn't have been allowed to have a security clearance because those bitches were Websters definition of CRAZY and neither one of them ever admitted it to me or actually sought any mental health counseling--they just told me everything was my fault and left it at that.
My college buddy up in South Carolina is in the process of getting rid of his own Prozac inhalingshe devil soon to be ex-bride and she never admitted any culpability in her contribution to his insanity osmosis.
Regarding the proposed Pentagon policy, I say let them keep asking the same questions, and let them have a quota of crazy people that they let in the Army because we need crazy people and mean people in the military to be in charge of breaking things and killing people.
After all, isn't that what war is all about?
Breaking things and killing people?
Otherwise they'd just call it a Tea Party or a game of Tag or something instead of WAR.
"In international news, a keg party broke out in the Gaza Strip today between Palestinian factions...the last man standing will be considered the winner and the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity members are considered the favorite at this time..."
While we're on the subject of military admissions standards, what ever happened to letting people join the Army or Marine Corps in lieu of going to the county jail for assault?
It's the same thing the way I see it, since guys that like punching their bartender or their wife fit quite nicely in the "breaking things and killing people" category.
Maybe we could just eliminate the death penalty for murder and start having special platoons of guys, lead by General Charles Manson, that we would send out to Iran or Lybia to take care of business without any inbedded TV reporters around to cry in their milk and cry foul every time a limb is severed or a head is blown off.
They'd save a good deal of effort and money by having a lifetime deployment bouncing around the world dealing with thug dictators and communist agitators.
Seems like a plan to me...what do YOU think?
Most "Sane" people bother me.
You know the type--people like cops and judges, many lawyers, and airline pilots--people that never laugh at anything and just stare at you blankly when you tell them your best jokes.
I guess that brain surgeons fit into this category also because the last thing you want to see as the anaesthesiologist puts the mask over your nose and mouth is some guy wielding a scalpel or drill and wearing a lampshade on his head or Groucho Marx glasses with the big nose and bushy eyebrows.
That said, take a look at this story about the Pentagon considering dropping their mental health questions when considering people for a security Clearance.
WASHINGTON - U.S. troops would no longer be asked to reveal previous mental health treatment when applying for security clearances under a proposal being considered by the Pentagon.
The idea stems from the finding that service members avoid needed counseling because they believe that getting it — and acknowledging it — could cost them their clearance as well as do other harm to their careers, The Associated Press has learned.
"This is just one of several items under review by the Department of Defense and the services in an effort to remove the stigma associated with mental health issues," said Air Force Maj. Patrick Ryder.
Stigma associated with mental health issues?
What's up wit' 'dat?
I say that if any given employer, including the government, is handing out jobs and the associated paychecks that they have the right to ask any damn questions that they want.
If they don't like my answers to the questions: "Mr. Rogers, have you ever had sexual fantasies involving a midget, two chickens, and a Weed Eater," "have you ever driven a tractor wearing nothing but crotchless overalls," or "did you once purchase edible underwear that was flavored like biscuits and gravy" that they be allowed to refuse my employment at the local bait shop or boat dealership.
No lawsuits with ACLU backing and sensational appearances on the TV talk shows, I'd just have to look elsewhere for employment else keep my mouth shut in the future.
I've actually had a Secret Security Clearance for a number of years back in the 1970's and early 1980's when I worked at the US Army Aeromedical Research Laboratory at Ft. Rucker, Alabama and again when I was in the Navy Reserve at Georgia Tech.
Having a Clearance isn't any big deal really because they don't actually TELL you any secrets, they just use the clearance to find out if you are sane enough to be trusted around sharp objects and while walking up and down stairs and stuff like that.
My dad had a Top Secret clearance for most of his career as a Test Pilot and engineer for the Army and it just meant that he couldn't come home and bitch at the dinner table about the latest "magneto-hydro-dynamic-pulse-doppler-laser-nippleometer" (actually a device of my own design which can in theory determine the ambient air temperature by remotely bouncing a laser beam off of a woman's breast--I'm still doing field trials while working on the patent...) or whatever else he was working on mounting and flying around in a Chinook or Cobra helicopter.
I'm sure that Dad took some pretty interesting stories with him to his grave, but that's OK.
I had a couple of ex-wives that shouldn't have been allowed to have a security clearance because those bitches were Websters definition of CRAZY and neither one of them ever admitted it to me or actually sought any mental health counseling--they just told me everything was my fault and left it at that.
My college buddy up in South Carolina is in the process of getting rid of his own Prozac inhaling
Regarding the proposed Pentagon policy, I say let them keep asking the same questions, and let them have a quota of crazy people that they let in the Army because we need crazy people and mean people in the military to be in charge of breaking things and killing people.
After all, isn't that what war is all about?
Breaking things and killing people?
Otherwise they'd just call it a Tea Party or a game of Tag or something instead of WAR.
"In international news, a keg party broke out in the Gaza Strip today between Palestinian factions...the last man standing will be considered the winner and the Sigma Alpha Epsilon fraternity members are considered the favorite at this time..."
While we're on the subject of military admissions standards, what ever happened to letting people join the Army or Marine Corps in lieu of going to the county jail for assault?
It's the same thing the way I see it, since guys that like punching their bartender or their wife fit quite nicely in the "breaking things and killing people" category.
Maybe we could just eliminate the death penalty for murder and start having special platoons of guys, lead by General Charles Manson, that we would send out to Iran or Lybia to take care of business without any inbedded TV reporters around to cry in their milk and cry foul every time a limb is severed or a head is blown off.
They'd save a good deal of effort and money by having a lifetime deployment bouncing around the world dealing with thug dictators and communist agitators.
Seems like a plan to me...what do YOU think?
Friday, June 15, 2007
New Moon
Flood Tide
Boy oh boy did we ever have a big flood tide last evening here in the golden isles. People with fixed boat docks that are ten or twelve feet above the water's surface at a normal low tide found their deckboards almost under water about 8:45 PM.
And this without a big easterly wind, no less. Water was also up on the grass shoulder and concrete bike paths along the Torras Causeway in several places.
The thing about our only road connecting St. Simons Island with the mainland which I find rediculous is that the rocket scientists down at the the Georgia Department of Transportation have rebuilt the roadway twice in the past twenty years and there are still two sections of asphalt that hover only a couple of feet above high tide.
The most recent "reconstruction" that has just been completed this summer did nothing about the roadway elevation in the process of widening the median and shoulders of the paved areas.
I see trouble coming for us as a result the first time a real hurricane blows our way. We've been told that if you're inclined to wait too long after the voluntary evacuation order is issued, that by the time the manditory evacuation notification comes along you can't leave unless you own an airplane or helicopter because the causeway is closed and under water.
How stupid is that?
I've slowly been adding to my hurricane stockpile over the past few years, with this year's addition including a spanking new 2300 watt generator that is still sitting in the unopened box in our carport storage closet waiting to see it's first sip of gasoline.
I also spend much of my time tripping over gallon jugs of water and extra cases of bottled water found lurking in the bottom of the clothes closets here in the condo. I should own stock in Eveready Battery to take advantage of the boost in annual profits produced from me acquiring my inventory of D cell batteries for the radio and flashlights.
This Spring, in a moment of weakness I almost bought a 40' x 90' fabric tarp from Lowes, but then I had second thoughts about having to store something in a box the size of a small refrigerator.
The other day I noticed that our local Home Depot doesn't even carry tarps that size, nor do they have things like hurricane shutters or very many generators on display. I mention this fact because I was in a Home Depot down in St. Cloud, Florida last weekend and noticed that they had tarps and shutter components stacked up to the ceiling, along with a giant generator display with six or seven models to choose from.
I suppose that Home Depot's inventory is influenced by the fact that people here in the Golden Isles are either too smug or too stupid to realize that we're lucky because of the geography of the Georgia coast relative to the Gulf Stream and that we're DUE TO TAKE A DIRECT HIT any time now since the last storm hit here in the early 1960's and washed TWO ENTIRE RESIDENTIAL BLOCKS OF HOUSES (streets and all) off of the south end of the island.
If you look at a tax map of Glynn county you will see nearly fifty residential lots that are currently offshore in the Sound adjacent to the shipping channel. I suppose if you are a scuba diver you could get a good deal on the property.
If things get that bad here again so as to start significantly rearranging the real estate map I'll be sitting in the Waycross Georgia Holiday Inn sipping a beer and watching the proceedings on The Weather Channel.
Once the water subsides and the wind quits blowing, if we have anything left I can fire up my generator and wait the obligatory ten days for Georgia Power to get the lights turned back on.
Of course that assumes that the "government officials", police, and National Guard troops don't have the whole island cordoned off and refuse to let me return to mypile of rubble home.
Speaking of damage, we also purchased renters' contents insurance and FEMA flood insurance for the first time last week. I figure that we've tempted fate for three Hurricane seasons without incurring any real storm damage other than losing the roof to our carport a couple of years ago while we were out of town during a storm, so it was time to get serious about protecting our stuff--at least financially.
I'm brave, but not stupid like most of the idiots that suffered Katrina's wrath and saved two or three hundred bucks a year by not buying flood insurance on their houses when they lived ten feet below sea level (we're four feet ABOVE here.)
We tried unsuccessfully several times in the past to get someone to give us a quote and couldn't find a insurance company interested in our business. Matters are complicated by the fact that you can't buy windstorm insurance if there is anything tropical on the weather map in the Atlantic or the Gulf of Mexico.
FEMA makes you wait for thirty days for the flood insurance to take effect to prevent people from seeing water coming when they look out their window, and placing a phone call to order their product.
As a result of this "30 day rule", our policy doesn't take effect until July 5th.
Keep your fingers crossed, if you will...
.
Boy oh boy did we ever have a big flood tide last evening here in the golden isles. People with fixed boat docks that are ten or twelve feet above the water's surface at a normal low tide found their deckboards almost under water about 8:45 PM.
And this without a big easterly wind, no less. Water was also up on the grass shoulder and concrete bike paths along the Torras Causeway in several places.
The thing about our only road connecting St. Simons Island with the mainland which I find rediculous is that the rocket scientists down at the the Georgia Department of Transportation have rebuilt the roadway twice in the past twenty years and there are still two sections of asphalt that hover only a couple of feet above high tide.
The most recent "reconstruction" that has just been completed this summer did nothing about the roadway elevation in the process of widening the median and shoulders of the paved areas.
I see trouble coming for us as a result the first time a real hurricane blows our way. We've been told that if you're inclined to wait too long after the voluntary evacuation order is issued, that by the time the manditory evacuation notification comes along you can't leave unless you own an airplane or helicopter because the causeway is closed and under water.
How stupid is that?
I've slowly been adding to my hurricane stockpile over the past few years, with this year's addition including a spanking new 2300 watt generator that is still sitting in the unopened box in our carport storage closet waiting to see it's first sip of gasoline.
I also spend much of my time tripping over gallon jugs of water and extra cases of bottled water found lurking in the bottom of the clothes closets here in the condo. I should own stock in Eveready Battery to take advantage of the boost in annual profits produced from me acquiring my inventory of D cell batteries for the radio and flashlights.
This Spring, in a moment of weakness I almost bought a 40' x 90' fabric tarp from Lowes, but then I had second thoughts about having to store something in a box the size of a small refrigerator.
The other day I noticed that our local Home Depot doesn't even carry tarps that size, nor do they have things like hurricane shutters or very many generators on display. I mention this fact because I was in a Home Depot down in St. Cloud, Florida last weekend and noticed that they had tarps and shutter components stacked up to the ceiling, along with a giant generator display with six or seven models to choose from.
I suppose that Home Depot's inventory is influenced by the fact that people here in the Golden Isles are either too smug or too stupid to realize that we're lucky because of the geography of the Georgia coast relative to the Gulf Stream and that we're DUE TO TAKE A DIRECT HIT any time now since the last storm hit here in the early 1960's and washed TWO ENTIRE RESIDENTIAL BLOCKS OF HOUSES (streets and all) off of the south end of the island.
If you look at a tax map of Glynn county you will see nearly fifty residential lots that are currently offshore in the Sound adjacent to the shipping channel. I suppose if you are a scuba diver you could get a good deal on the property.
If things get that bad here again so as to start significantly rearranging the real estate map I'll be sitting in the Waycross Georgia Holiday Inn sipping a beer and watching the proceedings on The Weather Channel.
Once the water subsides and the wind quits blowing, if we have anything left I can fire up my generator and wait the obligatory ten days for Georgia Power to get the lights turned back on.
Of course that assumes that the "government officials", police, and National Guard troops don't have the whole island cordoned off and refuse to let me return to my
Speaking of damage, we also purchased renters' contents insurance and FEMA flood insurance for the first time last week. I figure that we've tempted fate for three Hurricane seasons without incurring any real storm damage other than losing the roof to our carport a couple of years ago while we were out of town during a storm, so it was time to get serious about protecting our stuff--at least financially.
I'm brave, but not stupid like most of the idiots that suffered Katrina's wrath and saved two or three hundred bucks a year by not buying flood insurance on their houses when they lived ten feet below sea level (we're four feet ABOVE here.)
We tried unsuccessfully several times in the past to get someone to give us a quote and couldn't find a insurance company interested in our business. Matters are complicated by the fact that you can't buy windstorm insurance if there is anything tropical on the weather map in the Atlantic or the Gulf of Mexico.
FEMA makes you wait for thirty days for the flood insurance to take effect to prevent people from seeing water coming when they look out their window, and placing a phone call to order their product.
As a result of this "30 day rule", our policy doesn't take effect until July 5th.
Keep your fingers crossed, if you will...
.
Houston...We Have A Problem...
Space Babies?
Take a look at this story about a woman near Chicago who's baby monitor is picking up NASA TV transmissions from orbit.
PALATINE, Ill. - An elementary school science teacher in this Chicago suburb doesn't have to turn on the news for an update on NASA's space mission. She just turns on her video baby monitor.
Since Sunday, one of the two channels on Natalie Meilinger's baby monitor has been picking up black-and-white video from inside the space shuttle Atlantis. The other still lets her keep an eye on her baby.
"Whoever has a baby monitor knows what you'll usually see," Meilinger said. "No one would ever expect this."
Live video of the mission is available on NASA's Web site, so it's possible the monitor is picking up a signal from somewhere.
"It's not coming straight from the shuttle," NASA spokeswoman Brandi Dean said. "People here think this is very interesting and you don't hear of it often — if at all."
What's amazing to me is that everybody is running around in circles flapping their arms about this--calling NASA and the news people--instead of looking around the neighborhood for someone with an unsecured wireless network and also happens to like watching the NASA TV website.
It's got to be either coming from a nearby 900 MHZ wireless nextork, else the woman's husband is playing a joke on her and just hasn't had the guts to admit it yet.
You have my permission to stop yapping about silly stuff like this and get back to what you're supposed to be doing today.
.
Take a look at this story about a woman near Chicago who's baby monitor is picking up NASA TV transmissions from orbit.
PALATINE, Ill. - An elementary school science teacher in this Chicago suburb doesn't have to turn on the news for an update on NASA's space mission. She just turns on her video baby monitor.
Since Sunday, one of the two channels on Natalie Meilinger's baby monitor has been picking up black-and-white video from inside the space shuttle Atlantis. The other still lets her keep an eye on her baby.
"Whoever has a baby monitor knows what you'll usually see," Meilinger said. "No one would ever expect this."
Live video of the mission is available on NASA's Web site, so it's possible the monitor is picking up a signal from somewhere.
"It's not coming straight from the shuttle," NASA spokeswoman Brandi Dean said. "People here think this is very interesting and you don't hear of it often — if at all."
What's amazing to me is that everybody is running around in circles flapping their arms about this--calling NASA and the news people--instead of looking around the neighborhood for someone with an unsecured wireless network and also happens to like watching the NASA TV website.
It's got to be either coming from a nearby 900 MHZ wireless nextork, else the woman's husband is playing a joke on her and just hasn't had the guts to admit it yet.
You have my permission to stop yapping about silly stuff like this and get back to what you're supposed to be doing today.
.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Busy, Busy, Busy
Just Keeping My Head Above Water
All I want to know is” “Who’s Idea was this anyway?”
One minute I’m sitting around here on our little island with a nice suntan, being useless by doing virtually nothing all day, and the next minute I’m running around like the proverbial headless chicken.
Dang it…
Later this morning I have to make yet another trip to Home Depot in anticipation to placing a multi-thousand dollar order for things like doors and windows, and then drag a bunch of lumber out the door to support my construction efforts through the weekend.
By about noon yesterday I looked like Al Jolsen in “whiteface”--covered in concrete dust as a result of staring at my diamond bladed skill saw that I used to cut through my cinderblock walls making new door openings.
Today’s task involves making an eight foot high by twelve foot wide hole in a concrete block wall without having the whole thing crash down on my knotty head in the process. I’m confident that I can complete the process in a couple of hours, but the massive quantities of dust that is produced in the process and hauling the left over blocks out the front door is a real pain in the rear end.
On the art scene, I have my photo editing process almost completed for this years ”Welcome to my world” photo exhibit sponsored by the Glynn Arts Association. I’m entering two images, and I’ll try to stick a the proofs up here on the blog tomorrow night when I’m finished doodling with them.
I also have a meeting tonight with the Board of Directors of the Brunswick High School Marching Band regarding doing the design for their season’s half-time show called “The Pyramids of Egypt.” Obviously there will be a Sphinx and some big triangular structures involved, but the hard part will be making the whole thing windproof/weatherproof , transportable, and at the same time prevent some pimple faced sixteen year old from pinching his head or fingers off carrying the pieces around and putting them together on Friday night.
And finally there is the festering problem of my finishing the design of something called a "Tuned Mass Damper" for my California smokestack project. Can you say "bumbling with Excell spreadsheets?"
If anyone can help doing calculations on dampening coefficients and designing helical spring elements, I'd consider splitting my consulting fee.
Let me know...
All I want to know is” “Who’s Idea was this anyway?”
One minute I’m sitting around here on our little island with a nice suntan, being useless by doing virtually nothing all day, and the next minute I’m running around like the proverbial headless chicken.
Dang it…
Later this morning I have to make yet another trip to Home Depot in anticipation to placing a multi-thousand dollar order for things like doors and windows, and then drag a bunch of lumber out the door to support my construction efforts through the weekend.
By about noon yesterday I looked like Al Jolsen in “whiteface”--covered in concrete dust as a result of staring at my diamond bladed skill saw that I used to cut through my cinderblock walls making new door openings.
Today’s task involves making an eight foot high by twelve foot wide hole in a concrete block wall without having the whole thing crash down on my knotty head in the process. I’m confident that I can complete the process in a couple of hours, but the massive quantities of dust that is produced in the process and hauling the left over blocks out the front door is a real pain in the rear end.
On the art scene, I have my photo editing process almost completed for this years ”Welcome to my world” photo exhibit sponsored by the Glynn Arts Association. I’m entering two images, and I’ll try to stick a the proofs up here on the blog tomorrow night when I’m finished doodling with them.
I also have a meeting tonight with the Board of Directors of the Brunswick High School Marching Band regarding doing the design for their season’s half-time show called “The Pyramids of Egypt.” Obviously there will be a Sphinx and some big triangular structures involved, but the hard part will be making the whole thing windproof/weatherproof , transportable, and at the same time prevent some pimple faced sixteen year old from pinching his head or fingers off carrying the pieces around and putting them together on Friday night.
And finally there is the festering problem of my finishing the design of something called a "Tuned Mass Damper" for my California smokestack project. Can you say "bumbling with Excell spreadsheets?"
If anyone can help doing calculations on dampening coefficients and designing helical spring elements, I'd consider splitting my consulting fee.
Let me know...
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Recipe Tip Of The Day
Here, Try This...
Got some Potatoes to bake?
Why don't you try what I do most of the time instead of fooling around with aluminum foil and stuff?
All you need is:
1 Cast Iron Skillet (sized based on the number of potatoes)
1+ boxes of kosher salt
Potatoes (as many as you feel like serving or eating...)
Put the potatoes in the skillet. Dump the salt on top to cover everything up.
Bake in the oven at 450 degrees for about an hour (longer if you have big potatoes)
Take the skillet out, fish around in the salt to find the potatoes, and EAT.
How simple is that?
Now get back to whatever you're supposed to be doing instead of reading my rantings...
Got some Potatoes to bake?
Why don't you try what I do most of the time instead of fooling around with aluminum foil and stuff?
All you need is:
1 Cast Iron Skillet (sized based on the number of potatoes)
1+ boxes of kosher salt
Potatoes (as many as you feel like serving or eating...)
Put the potatoes in the skillet. Dump the salt on top to cover everything up.
Bake in the oven at 450 degrees for about an hour (longer if you have big potatoes)
Take the skillet out, fish around in the salt to find the potatoes, and EAT.
How simple is that?
Now get back to whatever you're supposed to be doing instead of reading my rantings...
Take A Look At This Crap
More Stuff That Makes My Head Hurt…
It seems that a group called Fight Crime: Invest In Kids Pennsylvania has recently come out with a few brainstorm ideas regarding how to keep 3 and 4 year old kids out of jail.
Click on the link if you want to read the entire article, but I’ll give you a little sample here to help me push my point across this morning:
“Thousands of 3- and 4-year-olds in Pittsburgh are at greater risk of eventually becoming criminals because not enough money is being spent on pre-kindergarten programs, according to a report released Thursday by a group urging the Legislature to fund such programs.
Nearly half of the 4,200 preschoolers from low-income families in Pittsburgh do not have access to quality pre-kindergarten programming, according to Fight Crime: Invest in Kids Pennsylvania, a nonprofit organization of law enforcement officials.
Gov. Ed Rendell is proposing to spend $75 million on the Pennsylvania Pre-K Counts initiative for at-risk children and their families.”
OK…Taking a big breath…
I have this to say about THAT…
You’re damn straight that 3 and 4 year olds are at greater risk of becoming criminals if they are left at home, by their little selves, or otherwise ignored by the so called “parents” which prefer to spend their time smoking dope, drinking beer, and acting like whores and whore mongers.
If you raise a child in a 24 hour environment of crime and on a steady diet of Rap/Hip-Hop/Black Entertainment Television/VH1 then what else would you expect the outcome to be other than a trash mouth talking Thug, Thug wanna-bes, or “ho’s” after thirteen or fourteen years?
And what about the cost?
“The proposed funding would assist 11,000 preschool-aged children in the state, and about 391 in Pittsburgh.”
Let’s do a little math here: $75,000,000.00 divided by 11,000 littlebastards rug rats darlins’equals…wait a minute…where’s my calculator…
$6,818.18 per child
SIX THOUSAND, EIGHT HUNDRED, AND EIGHTEEN DOLLARS AND EIGHTEEN CENTS PER CHILD.
W H A T THE HECK?
I SAY THAT WE TAKE THE KIDS AWAY FROM THE PARENTS AND SPEND THE MONEY SENDING THEM TO COLLEGE.
Junior college at least, for that much money.
Why is it that after we're forced to become a colorblind society, and forced to ignore a culture of people that insist on walking around with their penises hanging out of their pants and/or spending their time with their legs spread for anyone and everyone, that when the inevitable outcome is unwanted and uncared for children that the taxpayer is then forced to pay ever increasing amounts for their education and care.
I have my own solution, and it involves something as simple as foot wear.
I'd agree to spend my tax dollars on a few thousand pairs of big black combat boots, and then I'd recruit a team of my fellow disgruntled taxpayers to lace those boots on and walk around the community KICKING A FEW WELL CHOSEN ASSES.
At $75 per pair, that $75 million would buy a million boots, and by kicking at least one ass per day, in less than a year I'd be able to orchestrate having 365 million meetings of leather and glutious maximus.
Now THAT'S my idea of a good example of government in action.
What do you think?
It seems that a group called Fight Crime: Invest In Kids Pennsylvania has recently come out with a few brainstorm ideas regarding how to keep 3 and 4 year old kids out of jail.
Click on the link if you want to read the entire article, but I’ll give you a little sample here to help me push my point across this morning:
“Thousands of 3- and 4-year-olds in Pittsburgh are at greater risk of eventually becoming criminals because not enough money is being spent on pre-kindergarten programs, according to a report released Thursday by a group urging the Legislature to fund such programs.
Nearly half of the 4,200 preschoolers from low-income families in Pittsburgh do not have access to quality pre-kindergarten programming, according to Fight Crime: Invest in Kids Pennsylvania, a nonprofit organization of law enforcement officials.
Gov. Ed Rendell is proposing to spend $75 million on the Pennsylvania Pre-K Counts initiative for at-risk children and their families.”
OK…Taking a big breath…
I have this to say about THAT…
You’re damn straight that 3 and 4 year olds are at greater risk of becoming criminals if they are left at home, by their little selves, or otherwise ignored by the so called “parents” which prefer to spend their time smoking dope, drinking beer, and acting like whores and whore mongers.
If you raise a child in a 24 hour environment of crime and on a steady diet of Rap/Hip-Hop/Black Entertainment Television/VH1 then what else would you expect the outcome to be other than a trash mouth talking Thug, Thug wanna-bes, or “ho’s” after thirteen or fourteen years?
And what about the cost?
“The proposed funding would assist 11,000 preschool-aged children in the state, and about 391 in Pittsburgh.”
Let’s do a little math here: $75,000,000.00 divided by 11,000 little
$6,818.18 per child
SIX THOUSAND, EIGHT HUNDRED, AND EIGHTEEN DOLLARS AND EIGHTEEN CENTS PER CHILD.
W H A T THE HECK?
I SAY THAT WE TAKE THE KIDS AWAY FROM THE PARENTS AND SPEND THE MONEY SENDING THEM TO COLLEGE.
Junior college at least, for that much money.
Why is it that after we're forced to become a colorblind society, and forced to ignore a culture of people that insist on walking around with their penises hanging out of their pants and/or spending their time with their legs spread for anyone and everyone, that when the inevitable outcome is unwanted and uncared for children that the taxpayer is then forced to pay ever increasing amounts for their education and care.
I have my own solution, and it involves something as simple as foot wear.
I'd agree to spend my tax dollars on a few thousand pairs of big black combat boots, and then I'd recruit a team of my fellow disgruntled taxpayers to lace those boots on and walk around the community KICKING A FEW WELL CHOSEN ASSES.
At $75 per pair, that $75 million would buy a million boots, and by kicking at least one ass per day, in less than a year I'd be able to orchestrate having 365 million meetings of leather and glutious maximus.
Now THAT'S my idea of a good example of government in action.
What do you think?
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
I'm A Filthy Guy
And Loving Every Minute Of It...
Thankfully I survived yet another day sweating in and on my construction project yesterday--this time doing a few tasks which I had seen done before but never actually participated in myself.
The most daunting effort involved removing an exterior door and the associated metal door frame which turned out to be quite firmly attached to the surrounding concrete blocks. If you had asked me two years ago upon my exit from the hospital I would have doubted that I would ever again survive another day working like I did yesterday. I had dirt and concrete dust covering me from head to toe.
In the process, I got to use some of my new tools like my hammer drill and my portable sawsall to cut the frame and then beat the heck out of it with my sledge hammer until it finally gave in, bounced off my knee, dropped to the ground, and allowed me to haul the pieces out to an ever growing pile of debris building up in the front yard.
Then I built a wooden 2x8 box frame out of pressure treated lumber and hoisted it into the gaping opening, covering it with a temporary piece of plywood until I can get around to installing the new external siding later this month on the front of the building.
I also spent some time cleaning the well aged funk out of one of the bathrooms so that when and if I can convince Pat to actually spend more than 5 seconds inside the structure helping me with my efforts she won't be afraid to use the "facilities" when nature calls.
Next up is yet another trip to Home Depot for more lumber, then a few days of building some temporary walls to support the roof while I knock giant holes in the existing load bearing partitions to convert the duplex floor plan into a single family home.
If you don't hear from me for a couple of days, would someone please call 911 and have them search for my bloated carcass lying under a pile of rubble?
Thanks for your concern...
Thankfully I survived yet another day sweating in and on my construction project yesterday--this time doing a few tasks which I had seen done before but never actually participated in myself.
The most daunting effort involved removing an exterior door and the associated metal door frame which turned out to be quite firmly attached to the surrounding concrete blocks. If you had asked me two years ago upon my exit from the hospital I would have doubted that I would ever again survive another day working like I did yesterday. I had dirt and concrete dust covering me from head to toe.
In the process, I got to use some of my new tools like my hammer drill and my portable sawsall to cut the frame and then beat the heck out of it with my sledge hammer until it finally gave in, bounced off my knee, dropped to the ground, and allowed me to haul the pieces out to an ever growing pile of debris building up in the front yard.
Then I built a wooden 2x8 box frame out of pressure treated lumber and hoisted it into the gaping opening, covering it with a temporary piece of plywood until I can get around to installing the new external siding later this month on the front of the building.
I also spent some time cleaning the well aged funk out of one of the bathrooms so that when and if I can convince Pat to actually spend more than 5 seconds inside the structure helping me with my efforts she won't be afraid to use the "facilities" when nature calls.
Next up is yet another trip to Home Depot for more lumber, then a few days of building some temporary walls to support the roof while I knock giant holes in the existing load bearing partitions to convert the duplex floor plan into a single family home.
If you don't hear from me for a couple of days, would someone please call 911 and have them search for my bloated carcass lying under a pile of rubble?
Thanks for your concern...
Monday, June 11, 2007
Battery Blogging
I Was Adapter-Less...
Well, I managed to leave my computer's AC adapter laying in the corner of the living room floor at home on Thursday, so as a result I had to socialize and act like a normal person all weekend rather than spending most of my time staring at a laptop monitor.
We made it back from sunny central Florida in record time yesterday--about three & one-half hours--just in time to make up a batch of Pizza dough and head out to the swimming pool to swelter in the 90 degree heat while the dough was rising.
The outside temperature display on our car read 104 degrees F on sections of I-95, but the AC on our new Chrysler 300 hung right in there and kept us nice and cool as we blasted along in the light north bound traffic. (southbound was another story as there was a wreck between Daytona and Jacksonville that had the interstate CLOSED southbound and had produced a ten mile backup.)
I managed to skip posting anything at all yesterday and only handed out a photo of Friday evening's Space Shuttle launch on Saturday, but in an effort to get ahead of things this week, and in spite of the fact that I'm preoccupied with planning my construction efforts, let's see what I can come up with to comment on this morning.
...I know, did you realize that our Chrysler doesn't have a key lock on the trunk?
How wierd is that?
The car has power door locks and you can open the trunk lid by pressing a button on the key, but there is nowhere to stick the key in and turn it to pop the trunk open like everybody used to do in the old days.
Since the battery is mounted in the trunk instead of under the hood with the engine, and since I keep my jumper cables in a plastic box in the trunk along with the rest of my maintenance and emergency gear, I have to ask:
"How the heck do I get into the trunk when I have a dead battery and the power trunk latch doesn't work as a result?"
More precisely, "how do I get to the battery and jumper cables if the trunk is locked and the battery is dead?"
Doesn't this seem like a potential problem to you?
In reading the owners manual, it would appear that the designers never considered this problem. I find that pretty hard to believe, however.
Since the backs of the rear seat fold down, I guess that I could fold one down and crawl on my stomach through the opening to pull the emergency release on the inside trunk lid.
I'm not looking forward to doing that, however.
Seems like a lot of trouble to me--I'm going to do some more research to see if we're missing anything here.
Next my the list...Paris Hilton.
Never mind...who in their right mind could possibly care anyway.
Iraq?
Blaaa, Blaaa, Blaaaaaaaaaaa...
Next topic?
Feel free to entertain yourself and fill in the blank here ________________________.
Well, I managed to leave my computer's AC adapter laying in the corner of the living room floor at home on Thursday, so as a result I had to socialize and act like a normal person all weekend rather than spending most of my time staring at a laptop monitor.
We made it back from sunny central Florida in record time yesterday--about three & one-half hours--just in time to make up a batch of Pizza dough and head out to the swimming pool to swelter in the 90 degree heat while the dough was rising.
The outside temperature display on our car read 104 degrees F on sections of I-95, but the AC on our new Chrysler 300 hung right in there and kept us nice and cool as we blasted along in the light north bound traffic. (southbound was another story as there was a wreck between Daytona and Jacksonville that had the interstate CLOSED southbound and had produced a ten mile backup.)
I managed to skip posting anything at all yesterday and only handed out a photo of Friday evening's Space Shuttle launch on Saturday, but in an effort to get ahead of things this week, and in spite of the fact that I'm preoccupied with planning my construction efforts, let's see what I can come up with to comment on this morning.
...I know, did you realize that our Chrysler doesn't have a key lock on the trunk?
How wierd is that?
The car has power door locks and you can open the trunk lid by pressing a button on the key, but there is nowhere to stick the key in and turn it to pop the trunk open like everybody used to do in the old days.
Since the battery is mounted in the trunk instead of under the hood with the engine, and since I keep my jumper cables in a plastic box in the trunk along with the rest of my maintenance and emergency gear, I have to ask:
"How the heck do I get into the trunk when I have a dead battery and the power trunk latch doesn't work as a result?"
More precisely, "how do I get to the battery and jumper cables if the trunk is locked and the battery is dead?"
Doesn't this seem like a potential problem to you?
In reading the owners manual, it would appear that the designers never considered this problem. I find that pretty hard to believe, however.
Since the backs of the rear seat fold down, I guess that I could fold one down and crawl on my stomach through the opening to pull the emergency release on the inside trunk lid.
I'm not looking forward to doing that, however.
Seems like a lot of trouble to me--I'm going to do some more research to see if we're missing anything here.
Next my the list...Paris Hilton.
Never mind...who in their right mind could possibly care anyway.
Iraq?
Blaaa, Blaaa, Blaaaaaaaaaaa...
Next topic?
Feel free to entertain yourself and fill in the blank here ________________________.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Blastoff
Space Shuttle...Or UFO???
Here's the view from the house in St. Cloud, looking to the east about 7:39 PM last evening:
Here's the view from the house in St. Cloud, looking to the east about 7:39 PM last evening:
Pretty cool, huh?
.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Travel Blogging Again
I Hope Their DSL Works...
Well, we're off on the road again in the next hour headed back to central Florida for a long weekend visit with Family.
First I'll get to see if Lake City was singed by the recent forest fires, then we'll get to enjoy the masses of summer overflow Disney tourists lounging around in St. Cloud.
My little six month old "turbo pup" Missy, the miniature Dachshund, will get to visit with her cousins Olive and Otis (also mini Dachs). I'm sure hilarity will ensue with three dogs with a total weight of less than thirty pounds proceed to rumble and romp around the house like wild Indians.
If the weather holds up we also hope to see Friday evening's Space Shuttle launch from a pretty good vantage point there in St. Cloud.
As usual, I've taking my computer along, but this time I have a load of file folders (the manila kind--full of paper) because I have to get some actual work done instead of just sitting around being useless for a change.
In addition to my residential construction project and the California smokestack job, I also have to finish editing my entry for a Photo competition to be held next month here on the island and I'm doing preliminary design sketches for "Egyptian" themed set pieces for the Brunswick High School Marching Band's 2007 halftime shows.
Just in case I'm delinquent in posting, let me say that I hope y'all have a nice weekend.
Well, we're off on the road again in the next hour headed back to central Florida for a long weekend visit with Family.
First I'll get to see if Lake City was singed by the recent forest fires, then we'll get to enjoy the masses of summer overflow Disney tourists lounging around in St. Cloud.
My little six month old "turbo pup" Missy, the miniature Dachshund, will get to visit with her cousins Olive and Otis (also mini Dachs). I'm sure hilarity will ensue with three dogs with a total weight of less than thirty pounds proceed to rumble and romp around the house like wild Indians.
If the weather holds up we also hope to see Friday evening's Space Shuttle launch from a pretty good vantage point there in St. Cloud.
As usual, I've taking my computer along, but this time I have a load of file folders (the manila kind--full of paper) because I have to get some actual work done instead of just sitting around being useless for a change.
In addition to my residential construction project and the California smokestack job, I also have to finish editing my entry for a Photo competition to be held next month here on the island and I'm doing preliminary design sketches for "Egyptian" themed set pieces for the Brunswick High School Marching Band's 2007 halftime shows.
Just in case I'm delinquent in posting, let me say that I hope y'all have a nice weekend.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Stuck On My Roof With My Calculator
Paralyzed With Indecision...
Yesterday morning I climbed onto the roof of my Duplex for the first time. I was scared to death because I was working by myself and the structure was built the same year I was born.
A 47 year old man lurking around on a 47 year old slab of plywood, shingles, and God knows what else. It was the "God knows what else" part under my feet that made me nervous, because I couldn't see most of what I was walking on for the 2" thick layer of leaves and other debris that was covering the surface.
I'm embarrassed to report that in addition to finding a few bricks, a hubcap, and a football, I also have vines growing on my roof!
VINES...
ON MY ROOF...
I wasn't sure if I needed a lawnmower or could just use the rake I had in my hand to clear things off. Regardless, I was tired after clearing only about a quarter of the surface area, and soon found other things to occupy my time like trimming off low hanging tree limbs and building a Volkswagen sized pile of same on the curb.
After about five hours of spinning in circles on the roof and adjacent surfaces of dirt and concrete
in the near 90 degree heat, I was ready to come home, shower, and collapse on the sofa--thus the lack of posting last evening.
Today, in addition to thrashing around working on my drawings to go with my building permit application, I have to prepare to leave town headed for Florida for a long weekend.
Feel free to entertain yourselves in my absence...
Yesterday morning I climbed onto the roof of my Duplex for the first time. I was scared to death because I was working by myself and the structure was built the same year I was born.
A 47 year old man lurking around on a 47 year old slab of plywood, shingles, and God knows what else. It was the "God knows what else" part under my feet that made me nervous, because I couldn't see most of what I was walking on for the 2" thick layer of leaves and other debris that was covering the surface.
I'm embarrassed to report that in addition to finding a few bricks, a hubcap, and a football, I also have vines growing on my roof!
VINES...
ON MY ROOF...
I wasn't sure if I needed a lawnmower or could just use the rake I had in my hand to clear things off. Regardless, I was tired after clearing only about a quarter of the surface area, and soon found other things to occupy my time like trimming off low hanging tree limbs and building a Volkswagen sized pile of same on the curb.
After about five hours of spinning in circles on the roof and adjacent surfaces of dirt and concrete
in the near 90 degree heat, I was ready to come home, shower, and collapse on the sofa--thus the lack of posting last evening.
Today, in addition to thrashing around working on my drawings to go with my building permit application, I have to prepare to leave town headed for Florida for a long weekend.
Feel free to entertain yourselves in my absence...
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
I'm Mentally Challenged
Somebody Wake Me Up...
So let me see here, what the heck is going on in the world that's worth my time commenting on?
It's tough finding things that everybody doesn't already know or that I have some unique opinion worth mentioning these days.
I admit that hasn't always been true here on my blog, but I guess that I'm on the verge of giving up and dieing a lazy old capitalistic, libertarian who used his last quarters in a pay phone trying to call somebody ease that gave a damn about anything.
Tonight I'm tempted to write about Paris Hilton, but since I just really couldn't care less about the silly little bitch, and since nothing that she does or says surprises me, I'll just leave things at that.
It looks like that Louisiana will possibly be short one more elected dumbass here in the next few months as William "cold cash" Jefferson is indited and soon to be tap dancing in front of some kind of judicial proceeding.
I say that the race baiters aka Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, et. al. will cry foul and the process will implode on itself into a Marion Barry/Washington DC style fiasco because the stupid people that elected Congressman Jefferson in the first place already knew they were putting a black crook into office else they didn't care one way or the other.
Maybe we could give Miss Hilton, in return for a further reduced sentence, a Crack Pipe and a few rocks in order to see if she could help a sting operation add drug usage to his pending charges.
In local news, absolutely nothing happened here today worth mentioning. I'm working 6 to 8 hours a day and it's making me dull and boring and lazy and unwilling to move off of the sofa when I'm finished except to eat and chase the dog around the living room.
Be advised that I've only been to the pool FOUR times this season.
Would somebody please call someone and see if we can't remedy that situation?
So let me see here, what the heck is going on in the world that's worth my time commenting on?
It's tough finding things that everybody doesn't already know or that I have some unique opinion worth mentioning these days.
I admit that hasn't always been true here on my blog, but I guess that I'm on the verge of giving up and dieing a lazy old capitalistic, libertarian who used his last quarters in a pay phone trying to call somebody ease that gave a damn about anything.
Tonight I'm tempted to write about Paris Hilton, but since I just really couldn't care less about the silly little bitch, and since nothing that she does or says surprises me, I'll just leave things at that.
It looks like that Louisiana will possibly be short one more elected dumbass here in the next few months as William "cold cash" Jefferson is indited and soon to be tap dancing in front of some kind of judicial proceeding.
I say that the race baiters aka Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, et. al. will cry foul and the process will implode on itself into a Marion Barry/Washington DC style fiasco because the stupid people that elected Congressman Jefferson in the first place already knew they were putting a black crook into office else they didn't care one way or the other.
Maybe we could give Miss Hilton, in return for a further reduced sentence, a Crack Pipe and a few rocks in order to see if she could help a sting operation add drug usage to his pending charges.
In local news, absolutely nothing happened here today worth mentioning. I'm working 6 to 8 hours a day and it's making me dull and boring and lazy and unwilling to move off of the sofa when I'm finished except to eat and chase the dog around the living room.
Be advised that I've only been to the pool FOUR times this season.
Would somebody please call someone and see if we can't remedy that situation?
Monday, June 04, 2007
Words For The Wise
From Oscar Wilde...
Did I ever mention here on the blog that a LOT of people would consider me to NOT be very "well read"--at least not by traditional cultural and academic standards?
Well then, I would say that I would have to agree with that assessment...particularly if being considered "well read" has anything to do with the amount of time I've forced my eyeballs and ever greying, ever balding, ever diminishing brain cells to stare at the sometimes roaming, possibly boring, always extended phrases of ancient (and not so ancient) written drivelling.
Go ahead and crack out a copy of the NY Times bestseller list and, just like the titles at the local movie theater, most of the time I couldn't even manage an educated guess as the the meaning of the plot and subplots let alone name a leading lady in the "magnificent work" found within.
That said, I did happen to take a little time out recently to read an old well worn copy of Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray.
All I can say is DAAAAAaaaaaaaMMMMMmmmmmmNNnnnnnn...
that Wild(e) sucker could W-R-I-T-E.
Where was this kind of stuff when I was in high school and in my freshman year of college at Georgia Tech when I had to takeboth each all of of my English and Literature classes?
I think that I'm going to have these memorable quotes tattooed on my forehead for your enjoyment in the future:
"Nowadays people know the price of everything, and the value of nothing..."
(chapter IV)
and finally:
"We live in an age that reads too much to be wise, and that thinks too much to be beautiful..."
(Chapter VIII)
I'll shut up for now and let you think about those thoughts.
Did I ever mention here on the blog that a LOT of people would consider me to NOT be very "well read"--at least not by traditional cultural and academic standards?
Well then, I would say that I would have to agree with that assessment...particularly if being considered "well read" has anything to do with the amount of time I've forced my eyeballs and ever greying, ever balding, ever diminishing brain cells to stare at the sometimes roaming, possibly boring, always extended phrases of ancient (and not so ancient) written drivelling.
Go ahead and crack out a copy of the NY Times bestseller list and, just like the titles at the local movie theater, most of the time I couldn't even manage an educated guess as the the meaning of the plot and subplots let alone name a leading lady in the "magnificent work" found within.
That said, I did happen to take a little time out recently to read an old well worn copy of Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray.
All I can say is DAAAAAaaaaaaaMMMMMmmmmmmNNnnnnnn...
that Wild(e) sucker could W-R-I-T-E.
Where was this kind of stuff when I was in high school and in my freshman year of college at Georgia Tech when I had to take
I think that I'm going to have these memorable quotes tattooed on my forehead for your enjoyment in the future:
"Nowadays people know the price of everything, and the value of nothing..."
(chapter IV)
and finally:
"We live in an age that reads too much to be wise, and that thinks too much to be beautiful..."
(Chapter VIII)
I'll shut up for now and let you think about those thoughts.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Barry Was A Bust
Who's Next?
Well, so much for going over to the mainland today.
Instead we just sat at home and watched the wind blow the rain at about a 45 degree angle.
The extra moisture was quite welcome here, and we got about 3" worth so the lawns are floating and the parking lots are overflowing and our little dog is quite confused about the situation when she goes outside.
Isn't it funny how self important, supposedly highly educated men waste their breath and TV airtime talking about average temperatures, average rainfall, average this and average that...blaa...blaa...blaa...
...and then God just waves his hand causing the forrest fires go out, my Mom to get dry weather for her new roof installation, and the rainfall totals to move ever constantly back toward normal?
Well, so much for going over to the mainland today.
Instead we just sat at home and watched the wind blow the rain at about a 45 degree angle.
The extra moisture was quite welcome here, and we got about 3" worth so the lawns are floating and the parking lots are overflowing and our little dog is quite confused about the situation when she goes outside.
Isn't it funny how self important, supposedly highly educated men waste their breath and TV airtime talking about average temperatures, average rainfall, average this and average that...blaa...blaa...blaa...
...and then God just waves his hand causing the forrest fires go out, my Mom to get dry weather for her new roof installation, and the rainfall totals to move ever constantly back toward normal?
Fire & Rain
Ode To The Okefenokee Fires...
"Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone
Susanne the plans they made put an end to you
I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song
I just can't remember who to send it to
I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again."
If you ever get to meet me in person, you just might get to hear me sing Mr. James Taylor's words to his hit song "Fire & Rain"
Personally, I recommend that you try to make it over to Chastain Park in Atlanta or some other nice outdoor venue and see James in person when he's in town.
UPDATE:
It's raining nicely here outside, but it looks like that our little dog "Missy" is going to have a long weekend of terror trying to do her "business." I can fix a toilet, maybe I can come up with a way to make a dry square yard of grass in a rainstorm.
Anyone wanna bet me?
"Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone
Susanne the plans they made put an end to you
I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song
I just can't remember who to send it to
I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again."
If you ever get to meet me in person, you just might get to hear me sing Mr. James Taylor's words to his hit song "Fire & Rain"
Personally, I recommend that you try to make it over to Chastain Park in Atlanta or some other nice outdoor venue and see James in person when he's in town.
UPDATE:
It's raining nicely here outside, but it looks like that our little dog "Missy" is going to have a long weekend of terror trying to do her "business." I can fix a toilet, maybe I can come up with a way to make a dry square yard of grass in a rainstorm.
Anyone wanna bet me?
Opening Night In The "Cone Of Death"
It's June 2nd--Would Somebody Please Call FEMA for us???
OK everyone, take a look at the 2 AM storm track forecast that I just pulled off of the NOAA web site:
OK everyone, take a look at the 2 AM storm track forecast that I just pulled off of the NOAA web site:
( I would be the guy sitting there yawning somewhere in between the third and fourth "black dots" with the "S" in the middle)
I guess that we can forget using our pool this weekend, but on the other hand everyone can also celebrate the resulting tropical rain filling up their rain gauges and the media can possibly shut up talking about the so called "wild fires" that have been burning over the past few months burning the past million years on a seasonal basis based on lightning strikes and cyclic rain patterns.
We only had a little over 6 inches of rain in the Month of May here in South Georgia, so it was inevitable that a few tropical systems filled in the gaps in order for us to all enjoy something know as rainfall on an...
AVERAGE BASIS.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Now Broadcasting Live From My Toilet
Don't Worry, The Seat & Lid Is Down And My Pants Are Up...
As of this evening, everything is apparently back to normal in our own little waste removal department here on St. Simons Island.
In addition to getting the guest bath toilet back in service, over the past couple of days I've managed to install a new bookcase, rummage through two closets and four filing cabinets--tossing out old bills and files and other crap that tends to accumulate in and around your life while you're not paying attention.
I suspect that our trash guys are going to hate me and/or the results of this domestic progress (five or six big plastic bags worth), but I don't care because Pat and I love the overall improvement in our quality of life.
Time to do a little reading, a little writing, and possibly some arithmetic before taking an early evening nap.
Have a nice Friday night...
As of this evening, everything is apparently back to normal in our own little waste removal department here on St. Simons Island.
In addition to getting the guest bath toilet back in service, over the past couple of days I've managed to install a new bookcase, rummage through two closets and four filing cabinets--tossing out old bills and files and other crap that tends to accumulate in and around your life while you're not paying attention.
I suspect that our trash guys are going to hate me and/or the results of this domestic progress (five or six big plastic bags worth), but I don't care because Pat and I love the overall improvement in our quality of life.
Time to do a little reading, a little writing, and possibly some arithmetic before taking an early evening nap.
Have a nice Friday night...
Here...Look At This Crap
My Technical Writings...
1. All weld preparation, weld techniques, weld operator qualification, weld procedure specification, and weld workmanship shall be conducted in accordance with the ANSI/AWS D1.1 Structural Welding Code and ASME BPVC Section IX, as applicable.
2. All vertical and horizontal welds in the stack shell plates shall be completed with the fully automated submerged arc welding (SMAW) process.
3. All welds shall be full penetration. Partial penetration welding is not allowed.
Yes, I actually wrote that stuff, along with a couple of more pages of similar mind-numbing ramblings this morning.
My head was going to explode if I didn't reach down inside and drag it out onto paper, and apparently right now there is a paying market for such gibberish, so I thought... what the heck, I used to do that kind of stuff anyway and had some left over that might be trying to leak out of mouth when the occasion presented itself.
I didn't want to scare anybody, but I made an exception for you today.
Now I ask that you find something else to do while I go a take a nap.
1. All weld preparation, weld techniques, weld operator qualification, weld procedure specification, and weld workmanship shall be conducted in accordance with the ANSI/AWS D1.1 Structural Welding Code and ASME BPVC Section IX, as applicable.
2. All vertical and horizontal welds in the stack shell plates shall be completed with the fully automated submerged arc welding (SMAW) process.
3. All welds shall be full penetration. Partial penetration welding is not allowed.
Yes, I actually wrote that stuff, along with a couple of more pages of similar mind-numbing ramblings this morning.
My head was going to explode if I didn't reach down inside and drag it out onto paper, and apparently right now there is a paying market for such gibberish, so I thought... what the heck, I used to do that kind of stuff anyway and had some left over that might be trying to leak out of mouth when the occasion presented itself.
I didn't want to scare anybody, but I made an exception for you today.
Now I ask that you find something else to do while I go a take a nap.
I've Got My Own Bad Case Of TB
So Quarantine Me Here At Home If You Feel That You Need To
My TB is what I call "Total Boredom" with most everything happening in the news right now.
I've got to go now and write some technical specifications, see y'all later.
.
My TB is what I call "Total Boredom" with most everything happening in the news right now.
I've got to go now and write some technical specifications, see y'all later.
.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Toilet Almost Fixed
New Art Lasered To The Living Room Wall...
I'm trying to not admit to myself that I've caught some kind of creeping crud, but regardless the form of the malady I managed to sleep in until after 10 AM this morning for the first time in months, and that was after not sitting up all night writing or drawing or generally screwing around on the internet.
In the middle of the night I did finally subscumb to a shivering fit of mechanical repair work after tiring of listening to the toilet in the guest bath leak for the past three weeks.
The initial quick fix was to just turn the supply valve off between uses, and in a bout of slovenly thought I was considering just building an outhouse on the patio and being done with things for good.
Then I realized that we'd never possibly use that much compost in a Condo, and the Condo Nazis would complain if I used the wrong color paint or shingles, so I reluctantly fell back to Plan B.
I had two kind of repair kits on hand--one that included just the flapper valve and a second one that included almost everything but the tank and bowl.
After fiddling around with the mechanisms a little more I realized that I could probably just get away with the flapper valve replacement. That made me feel a little silly for having waited so long, but hey--I have to spend a certain amount of time goofing off every day--it's in my contract with God when he made me.
Any way, the good news is that my efforts worked in solving the intial problem.
The leakage stopped with the new flapper and with a little further adjustment of the fill valve settings.
But then Murphy's Law took over with the secondary failure of the lever arm inside the tank that pulls the little chain thingy.
I guess another trip to Ace hardware to spend a few more dollars will have things squared away by sometime tonight.
On the other end of the home improvement spectrum, this afternoon I finally got a couple of wall sconces and a big 4' x 3' framed piece of my pen & ink artwork that had been laying around gathering dust for a month mounted on a bare section of wall in our living room.
The star of that exercise was my new laser level. It is an amazing convenience, and it's going to make a great deal of time saving difference when I start hanging kitchen cabinets and building soffits & fascias over in Brunswick.
Now I have to think about what to do for dinner tonight. I'm still guiltily staring at leftover pork & chicken that's been sitting covered in the fridge since Monday night. I hate wasting food, but I just haven't been able to get fired up to start cooking four or five nights a week again yet.
I guess that I'll see if I can talk Pat and the little hound into taking me over to somewhere that has a pet friendly patio, then come home and beat on the toilet tank some more.
I'm trying to not admit to myself that I've caught some kind of creeping crud, but regardless the form of the malady I managed to sleep in until after 10 AM this morning for the first time in months, and that was after not sitting up all night writing or drawing or generally screwing around on the internet.
In the middle of the night I did finally subscumb to a shivering fit of mechanical repair work after tiring of listening to the toilet in the guest bath leak for the past three weeks.
The initial quick fix was to just turn the supply valve off between uses, and in a bout of slovenly thought I was considering just building an outhouse on the patio and being done with things for good.
Then I realized that we'd never possibly use that much compost in a Condo, and the Condo Nazis would complain if I used the wrong color paint or shingles, so I reluctantly fell back to Plan B.
I had two kind of repair kits on hand--one that included just the flapper valve and a second one that included almost everything but the tank and bowl.
After fiddling around with the mechanisms a little more I realized that I could probably just get away with the flapper valve replacement. That made me feel a little silly for having waited so long, but hey--I have to spend a certain amount of time goofing off every day--it's in my contract with God when he made me.
Any way, the good news is that my efforts worked in solving the intial problem.
The leakage stopped with the new flapper and with a little further adjustment of the fill valve settings.
But then Murphy's Law took over with the secondary failure of the lever arm inside the tank that pulls the little chain thingy.
I guess another trip to Ace hardware to spend a few more dollars will have things squared away by sometime tonight.
On the other end of the home improvement spectrum, this afternoon I finally got a couple of wall sconces and a big 4' x 3' framed piece of my pen & ink artwork that had been laying around gathering dust for a month mounted on a bare section of wall in our living room.
The star of that exercise was my new laser level. It is an amazing convenience, and it's going to make a great deal of time saving difference when I start hanging kitchen cabinets and building soffits & fascias over in Brunswick.
Now I have to think about what to do for dinner tonight. I'm still guiltily staring at leftover pork & chicken that's been sitting covered in the fridge since Monday night. I hate wasting food, but I just haven't been able to get fired up to start cooking four or five nights a week again yet.
I guess that I'll see if I can talk Pat and the little hound into taking me over to somewhere that has a pet friendly patio, then come home and beat on the toilet tank some more.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
My Toilet's Still Broken
Construction Related Delays...
Well, I've been back in town for a couple of weeks now, and I still find myself constantly looking at a festering list of things which I haven't had the time and/or the energy to accomplish thus far.
Perhaps the most annoying task is the one involving the replacement of the guts of the toilet in our guest bathroom with new cheep plastic components which I purchased in one of my earlier expeditions to Home Depot.
I'll readily admit that I will do almost anything to avoid screwing around working on old plumbing fixtures. That's why plumbers get away charging $100 an hour, I think.
I don't mind turning off the water supply and unbolting some well worn old porcelain device in order to toss it into the trash, but having to reach my arms and face down inside the bowels of an old sink or toilet's tank just isn't my idea of a fun way to spend an afternoon.
That's exactly the kind of work I'm looking at here in the next couple of days, and the ever mounting costs of excess water consumption is ultimately going to embarrass me into breaking out my monkey wrench and channel-lock pliers and ending our suffering.
That said, I'm sitting here procrastinating again this morning, anticipating hauling my butt over the bridges to Brunswick after rush hour in order to do some more smashing and crashing around under the roof of the old Duplex building.
Adding to my current state of fear is the fact that over on the mainland I have not one but two hideous old toilets lurking in the recesses of the building, taunting me each and every time I walk past the doors of the restrooms.
At least one of them has the water supply attached and turned on, so I guess that I will have to don my rubber gloves and splash a few gallons of Clorox around inside and over the surfaces of everything so I'll have somewhere relatively safe to sit when the time comes.
Assuming that nothing falls over on my head, I'll be back at the keyboard again this evening and maybe then I'll have something interesting to write about (other than toilets.)
Well, I've been back in town for a couple of weeks now, and I still find myself constantly looking at a festering list of things which I haven't had the time and/or the energy to accomplish thus far.
Perhaps the most annoying task is the one involving the replacement of the guts of the toilet in our guest bathroom with new cheep plastic components which I purchased in one of my earlier expeditions to Home Depot.
I'll readily admit that I will do almost anything to avoid screwing around working on old plumbing fixtures. That's why plumbers get away charging $100 an hour, I think.
I don't mind turning off the water supply and unbolting some well worn old porcelain device in order to toss it into the trash, but having to reach my arms and face down inside the bowels of an old sink or toilet's tank just isn't my idea of a fun way to spend an afternoon.
That's exactly the kind of work I'm looking at here in the next couple of days, and the ever mounting costs of excess water consumption is ultimately going to embarrass me into breaking out my monkey wrench and channel-lock pliers and ending our suffering.
That said, I'm sitting here procrastinating again this morning, anticipating hauling my butt over the bridges to Brunswick after rush hour in order to do some more smashing and crashing around under the roof of the old Duplex building.
Adding to my current state of fear is the fact that over on the mainland I have not one but two hideous old toilets lurking in the recesses of the building, taunting me each and every time I walk past the doors of the restrooms.
At least one of them has the water supply attached and turned on, so I guess that I will have to don my rubber gloves and splash a few gallons of Clorox around inside and over the surfaces of everything so I'll have somewhere relatively safe to sit when the time comes.
Assuming that nothing falls over on my head, I'll be back at the keyboard again this evening and maybe then I'll have something interesting to write about (other than toilets.)
This Just In...
Whhhhaaattttt? and Possibly Whhhhhyyyyyyyyyy?
Here I was, doing my normal Redneck Goober thing, trying to mind my own business this evening, wandering around on the Internet, doing a little comment editing and some other technical cleanup here behind the scenes on the blog, when I found this gem of a comment lurking in the unpublished comments folder:
"I am just wondering since when US became anyone's... I am just wondering since when US became anyone's land other than the native indians? Excuse me if i am being rude here but that is a fact and let us face it. The citizenship of this country is only deserved by those who contribute to the country regardless of what ever ethnic background they belong to and Somalis my friend are taxi payers and a law abiding taxi payer deserves his/her rights be given wether you like it or not. Also if someone chooses to to flush his/her earnings down the toilet that is their business and by the way cushites dont have nabby hair get back to antrho 101 you probably got f on it...."
I promise to rummage around and see if I can find what commentary I made which incited this blast, and if it's worthy of a response I'll be back with my reply.
Here I was, doing my normal Redneck Goober thing, trying to mind my own business this evening, wandering around on the Internet, doing a little comment editing and some other technical cleanup here behind the scenes on the blog, when I found this gem of a comment lurking in the unpublished comments folder:
"I am just wondering since when US became anyone's
I promise to rummage around and see if I can find what commentary I made which incited this blast, and if it's worthy of a response I'll be back with my reply.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Back To Reality -- My Goose Butt Was Cooked
For Everyone But Me, That Is...
Well, I found our parking lot to be strangely quiet early this morning after almost a week of supporting the increased activity associated with the Memorial Day Holiday.
I'm happy to report that we managed to survive the proceedings here in our little island home, without substantial sunburn, and likewise I trust that you and your families had a good time and avoided having your name placed on one of the lists of statistics which the TV and newspapers love to focus on every two or three months.
Oops...hold on...wait a minute... I have a News FLASH--with gas over $3 a gallon, St. Simons Island was still packed. In spite of OPEC and the damn Arabs and Venezuelans and mean old President Bush, Karl Rove, and Dick Cheaney, people were still waiting in a long line of automobiles to park over at the East Beach Coast Guard Station lot.
I was personally amused to watch our hired Mexicans raise heck most of the day yesterday working on the lawns outside my front door, finishing up the tasks that should have been completed weeks ago in anticipation of hosting the invasion of owners and guests for the extended holiday celebration.
I thought that the ill conceived last minute efforts at sprucing things up was pretty stupid--but then again it was also to be easily expected considering the mentality of the people in charge around here these days.
In my opinion, since our homeowners' association is too cheep to actually hire a competent management company, and since virtually all of the real estate "professionals" here on the island are drunks or idiots or suffer from some combination of both afflictions, only the most obvious maintenance tasks get priority, and only then after something caves in or falls off the roof striking someone on their toe.
Yesterday the Condo Nazis had their second annual "free cokes and beer feast" poolside, at about the same time that I was over at Bruce and Ski's house chasing my roasted pork butt around a cutting board and slicing up limes, lemons, and oranges for garnish.
My long time readers may recall that I've tried to liven things up by doing my own Memorial Day weekend Bar-B-Que for three years in a row here poolside, but last year when the "officials" decided to finally start hosting an "approved" event (after years of neglect and high browed dis-interest), that they also chose Memorial Day for the date of their extravaganza and strangely enough I wasn't included in the planning or operations stage of their process.
That's OK, I can take a hint, even if it's not a very a subtle one...
I just went ahead and brined my butt, roasted my butt, then packed my butt up and took it over where my butt would be appreciated.
This afternoon I'm dicing up what is left of my butt and making more tamales.
We're having drinks at 5 PM, and dinner will be about 6:30, so stop on by if you're in the area.
Well, I found our parking lot to be strangely quiet early this morning after almost a week of supporting the increased activity associated with the Memorial Day Holiday.
I'm happy to report that we managed to survive the proceedings here in our little island home, without substantial sunburn, and likewise I trust that you and your families had a good time and avoided having your name placed on one of the lists of statistics which the TV and newspapers love to focus on every two or three months.
Oops...hold on...wait a minute... I have a News FLASH--with gas over $3 a gallon, St. Simons Island was still packed. In spite of OPEC and the damn Arabs and Venezuelans and mean old President Bush, Karl Rove, and Dick Cheaney, people were still waiting in a long line of automobiles to park over at the East Beach Coast Guard Station lot.
I was personally amused to watch our hired Mexicans raise heck most of the day yesterday working on the lawns outside my front door, finishing up the tasks that should have been completed weeks ago in anticipation of hosting the invasion of owners and guests for the extended holiday celebration.
I thought that the ill conceived last minute efforts at sprucing things up was pretty stupid--but then again it was also to be easily expected considering the mentality of the people in charge around here these days.
In my opinion, since our homeowners' association is too cheep to actually hire a competent management company, and since virtually all of the real estate "professionals" here on the island are drunks or idiots or suffer from some combination of both afflictions, only the most obvious maintenance tasks get priority, and only then after something caves in or falls off the roof striking someone on their toe.
Yesterday the Condo Nazis had their second annual "free cokes and beer feast" poolside, at about the same time that I was over at Bruce and Ski's house chasing my roasted pork butt around a cutting board and slicing up limes, lemons, and oranges for garnish.
My long time readers may recall that I've tried to liven things up by doing my own Memorial Day weekend Bar-B-Que for three years in a row here poolside, but last year when the "officials" decided to finally start hosting an "approved" event (after years of neglect and high browed dis-interest), that they also chose Memorial Day for the date of their extravaganza and strangely enough I wasn't included in the planning or operations stage of their process.
That's OK, I can take a hint, even if it's not a very a subtle one...
I just went ahead and brined my butt, roasted my butt, then packed my butt up and took it over where my butt would be appreciated.
This afternoon I'm dicing up what is left of my butt and making more tamales.
We're having drinks at 5 PM, and dinner will be about 6:30, so stop on by if you're in the area.
Monday, May 28, 2007
My Lack Of Progress Is Really Not My Own Fault
Who Makes This Stuff ... Any Way?
So here I am, at 4 AM, furiously thrashing around in my attempt at chasing about ten pounds of uncooked meat into some edible form to serve for dinner this afternoon.
Pork...Chicken...AND some soon to be tasty grilled fish fillets, along with a few pounds of vegetables that need grinding or shredding or other abuse--it's all laying around in one form or the other waiting for my attention.
It's hard handling that much meat in our little "galley" style kitchen, and storing same in our relatively small condo sized double door fridge takes some organization and planning (where's a nice 48" SubZero Fridge when you need one?)
On a positive note, I've just finished rinsing off a few things that haven't been used since last January--stuff like my food processor, and in the effort I've discovered that Pat, in what I am certain was a well intended fit of local urban renewal in support of a neighbor's yard sale, removed all of my old dishtowels from our kitchen and replaced them with lovely new decorative models.
The only problem is...
for some reason these towels, like many of our pretty "fruu fruu" bath towels, must have been treated with "scotchguard" or some other water repellent compound that absolutely refuses to take on any water...something that I find to be high on the list of things anything with the phrase "towel" in it's name should be quite adept at doing.
Seriously, I've got a couple of bath towels that I think must actually add water to your body when you wipe them across your flesh after bathing. Without getting into any gross details, let me just say that I'm a sort of harry kind of guy and I appreciate a nice fluffy ABSORBENT bath towel just like my dishes need some good competent terrycloth at the end of their trip through the kitchen sink.
This dishtowel realization follows closely on the heels of the knowledge that the old, worn out beach towels also recently went to the yard sale. When I asked what I should do about garage, shop, and construction clean up, all I was told that I could buy whatever I needed.
That's right, we GAVE away towels to sell at a yard sale, so that I could BUY towels to wipe my dirty face, hands, and puddles of oil off the floor when the time comes.
I'm laughing as I say this but...
W H Y?
So here I am, at 4 AM, furiously thrashing around in my attempt at chasing about ten pounds of uncooked meat into some edible form to serve for dinner this afternoon.
Pork...Chicken...AND some soon to be tasty grilled fish fillets, along with a few pounds of vegetables that need grinding or shredding or other abuse--it's all laying around in one form or the other waiting for my attention.
It's hard handling that much meat in our little "galley" style kitchen, and storing same in our relatively small condo sized double door fridge takes some organization and planning (where's a nice 48" SubZero Fridge when you need one?)
On a positive note, I've just finished rinsing off a few things that haven't been used since last January--stuff like my food processor, and in the effort I've discovered that Pat, in what I am certain was a well intended fit of local urban renewal in support of a neighbor's yard sale, removed all of my old dishtowels from our kitchen and replaced them with lovely new decorative models.
The only problem is...
for some reason these towels, like many of our pretty "fruu fruu" bath towels, must have been treated with "scotchguard" or some other water repellent compound that absolutely refuses to take on any water...something that I find to be high on the list of things anything with the phrase "towel" in it's name should be quite adept at doing.
Seriously, I've got a couple of bath towels that I think must actually add water to your body when you wipe them across your flesh after bathing. Without getting into any gross details, let me just say that I'm a sort of harry kind of guy and I appreciate a nice fluffy ABSORBENT bath towel just like my dishes need some good competent terrycloth at the end of their trip through the kitchen sink.
This dishtowel realization follows closely on the heels of the knowledge that the old, worn out beach towels also recently went to the yard sale. When I asked what I should do about garage, shop, and construction clean up, all I was told that I could buy whatever I needed.
That's right, we GAVE away towels to sell at a yard sale, so that I could BUY towels to wipe my dirty face, hands, and puddles of oil off the floor when the time comes.
I'm laughing as I say this but...
W H Y?
