BBQ Pork, Anyone?
Well, we made our journey in record time yesterday, thanks to first driving south from Georgia to Florida to find an west bound interstate highway.
Even though we probably traveled an additional 100 miles out of our way, we shaved nearly an hour and one half off of what had previously been a seven and one-half hour journey.
Our thanks go out to my friend Mark for that little travel tip.
Between now and Monday morning I've got a full plate, excuse the pun, considering my cooking endeavors and the need to spend the morning cleaning pine straw off about 3,000 square feet of roof and cleaning out the associated rain gutters.
Then there is the ailing 7.5 KW emergency generator, that needs my attentions.
In the food department, I have a seven pound Boston Butt Shoulder happily swiming in a spicy brine in the fridge, and if everything goes as planned our other guests will enjoy BBQ Pork, Fancy Asian Cold Slaw, and Potato Salad on a table by the swimming pool late Sunday afternoon.
Wish me luck...
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Friday, July 07, 2006
Distractions
More Travel Blogging
I’m sitting here trying to figure out if it would be easier to get on an airplane and go personally strangle FOX News’ Greta Van Sustren, or just change the channel….
OK, I changed the channel rather than risk being indicted for a felony Murder.
Dammit Gretta…give it a rest already…that woman wears me out with the Lacy Peterson and Natalee Holloway epic sagas.
Any way, about three hours from now we’ll be climbing into a car and droning cross country from the Georgia coast to spend a long weekend visiting my lovely Mother in lower Alabama.
Almost six hours looking at billboards and pine trees.
I hope our little nest of Wren’s will be OK while we’re gone. Their mom seems to be doing a good job of keeping them fed and the tourists and raccoons have left them alone so far, so I’ll just have to say a prayer and hope they’re safe until we return Monday afternoon.
By the way, let me mention that I'm really excited about my latest art project.
I had a great meeting with a bunch of our city officials yesterday afternoon, talking about my “K-Street Tree” art project. We had a conference call with our proposed “chainsaw artist,” Joe King from Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, and I had the opportunity to present my final plans to Bryan Thompson, the Brunswick Mayor, Roosevelt Harris the city administrator, and my friend Heather that handles the one of the local arts associations.
The city finally got around to moving it last month, and it turns out that my giant tree carcass weighs nearly 100,000 pounds (I had guestimated at least 50,000 doing a "back of an envelope" calculation).
I had to laugh out loud when I heard that my giant Live Oak tree trunk not only took TWO cranes to pick it up, but it broke the trailer they used to haul it to the temporary storage area and fell off in the middle of the road in the process.
Here’s another look at it for those that missed my February posting when I first took charge of this big stick of firewood:
This is the first time I've ever done anything of this size and scope in the public eye. The city is completely behind my idea to salvage the tree's tunk to be carved into a sculpture and placed back in the community from where it was removed to make way for a utility project.
We're talking a cost of nearly $50,000 when it is all said and done, including the foundation, artist's commission, and landscaping.
I sure hope that I haven't bitten off more than I can chew...
I’m sitting here trying to figure out if it would be easier to get on an airplane and go personally strangle FOX News’ Greta Van Sustren, or just change the channel….
OK, I changed the channel rather than risk being indicted for a felony Murder.
Dammit Gretta…give it a rest already…that woman wears me out with the Lacy Peterson and Natalee Holloway epic sagas.
Any way, about three hours from now we’ll be climbing into a car and droning cross country from the Georgia coast to spend a long weekend visiting my lovely Mother in lower Alabama.
Almost six hours looking at billboards and pine trees.
I hope our little nest of Wren’s will be OK while we’re gone. Their mom seems to be doing a good job of keeping them fed and the tourists and raccoons have left them alone so far, so I’ll just have to say a prayer and hope they’re safe until we return Monday afternoon.
By the way, let me mention that I'm really excited about my latest art project.
I had a great meeting with a bunch of our city officials yesterday afternoon, talking about my “K-Street Tree” art project. We had a conference call with our proposed “chainsaw artist,” Joe King from Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, and I had the opportunity to present my final plans to Bryan Thompson, the Brunswick Mayor, Roosevelt Harris the city administrator, and my friend Heather that handles the one of the local arts associations.
The city finally got around to moving it last month, and it turns out that my giant tree carcass weighs nearly 100,000 pounds (I had guestimated at least 50,000 doing a "back of an envelope" calculation).
I had to laugh out loud when I heard that my giant Live Oak tree trunk not only took TWO cranes to pick it up, but it broke the trailer they used to haul it to the temporary storage area and fell off in the middle of the road in the process.
Here’s another look at it for those that missed my February posting when I first took charge of this big stick of firewood:
This is the first time I've ever done anything of this size and scope in the public eye. The city is completely behind my idea to salvage the tree's tunk to be carved into a sculpture and placed back in the community from where it was removed to make way for a utility project.We're talking a cost of nearly $50,000 when it is all said and done, including the foundation, artist's commission, and landscaping.
I sure hope that I haven't bitten off more than I can chew...
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Feed US!!!
Our Birds Are Growing Up
Well, the good news is that our baby Wrens--I call them Winkin', Blinkin' & Nod--survived the busy Independence Day holiday weekend none the worse for the wear.
Their eyes have opened, and they've gotten their voices now, "peeping" and "cheeping" asking for food every time I disturb them to take their pictures.
Here's a sample of the goings on from yesterday:
By the way, I figured out that the big raptor I photographed and displayed in my last posting was a young Red Tailed Hawk. That explains why the squirrel was stareing him down and he was clumsy bouncing around in our tree yesterday.
I know that we have a Red Tail nest in the area because I've seen them circling overhead the past few years, I just never saw a juvenile bird up close. Our bird books tell us that the Red Tailed birds tails don't actually turn red until they are mature.
So like I said earlier, this place is a bird "Mecca"...I can't wait until tomorrow to see what I'm gonna see,
Well, the good news is that our baby Wrens--I call them Winkin', Blinkin' & Nod--survived the busy Independence Day holiday weekend none the worse for the wear.
Their eyes have opened, and they've gotten their voices now, "peeping" and "cheeping" asking for food every time I disturb them to take their pictures.
Here's a sample of the goings on from yesterday:
By the way, I figured out that the big raptor I photographed and displayed in my last posting was a young Red Tailed Hawk. That explains why the squirrel was stareing him down and he was clumsy bouncing around in our tree yesterday.
I know that we have a Red Tail nest in the area because I've seen them circling overhead the past few years, I just never saw a juvenile bird up close. Our bird books tell us that the Red Tailed birds tails don't actually turn red until they are mature.
So like I said earlier, this place is a bird "Mecca"...I can't wait until tomorrow to see what I'm gonna see,
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
IT'S BIRD FOOD…
We Have To Have It
One of our greatest pleasures, and to me actually quite a bit of a surprise since moving here to our little island, has been our collection of birds that we’ve adopted.
Maybe I should say that they’ve adopted us.
OK, maybe I should admit that we’ve actually bribed our birds to hang out on our back patio by conveniently placing various forms of BIRD FOOD within easy reach of their little beaks and footsies.
Any way…you want to see birds…we’ve got birds for you to see.
First we have the teeny tiny little Ruby Throated Hummers, which consume at LEAST a cup of water/sugar mixture from our feeder each week.
Then there are the Cardinals, Chickadees, Thrashers, Doves, the occasional Blue Jay and even Red Headed Woodpecker (and God knows who or what else) that show up at our two feeders full of Safflower Seeds each day to provide for our additional entertainment.
Today I came home from an early swimming pool expedition and found Pat in a state of excitement as she pointed out this Hawk sitting within twenty feet of my dining room table.
I missed the best photo opportunities while running to get my camera set up. There was actually a Squirrel in the tree adjacent to this three pound bird staring him/her down and generally raising heck over its presence.
I think that this bird has visited our patio before. At first I though that it was a Red Tailed Hawk, but upon closer examination, at this point I don’t have a clue.
Maybe a Falcon?
All I know is that it was hanging out around our bird feeders looking not for the bird seed and sugar water, but for the birds that our feeders have attracted.
Our regular birds WERE NOT HAPPY.
Fortunately, this big old bully left the scene and everything returned to normal within a few hours.
I was ready to go out and risk getting the Animal Police after me if Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod had been threatened.
By the way...their doing just fine...more baby bird pictures to follow.
One of our greatest pleasures, and to me actually quite a bit of a surprise since moving here to our little island, has been our collection of birds that we’ve adopted.
Maybe I should say that they’ve adopted us.
OK, maybe I should admit that we’ve actually bribed our birds to hang out on our back patio by conveniently placing various forms of BIRD FOOD within easy reach of their little beaks and footsies.
Any way…you want to see birds…we’ve got birds for you to see.
First we have the teeny tiny little Ruby Throated Hummers, which consume at LEAST a cup of water/sugar mixture from our feeder each week.
Then there are the Cardinals, Chickadees, Thrashers, Doves, the occasional Blue Jay and even Red Headed Woodpecker (and God knows who or what else) that show up at our two feeders full of Safflower Seeds each day to provide for our additional entertainment.
Today I came home from an early swimming pool expedition and found Pat in a state of excitement as she pointed out this Hawk sitting within twenty feet of my dining room table.
I missed the best photo opportunities while running to get my camera set up. There was actually a Squirrel in the tree adjacent to this three pound bird staring him/her down and generally raising heck over its presence.
I think that this bird has visited our patio before. At first I though that it was a Red Tailed Hawk, but upon closer examination, at this point I don’t have a clue.
Maybe a Falcon?
All I know is that it was hanging out around our bird feeders looking not for the bird seed and sugar water, but for the birds that our feeders have attracted.
Our regular birds WERE NOT HAPPY.
Fortunately, this big old bully left the scene and everything returned to normal within a few hours.
I was ready to go out and risk getting the Animal Police after me if Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod had been threatened.
By the way...their doing just fine...more baby bird pictures to follow.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Going Forth For America’s Fourth, 2006
What Else Can I Say, That Hasn’t Already Been Said More Eloquently?
Unless I change my mind and get inspired by something, this morning, on the anniversary of our great nation’s independence, I’m just going to point out some recommended reading, and offer some famous quotes for your enjoyment….
First, there is a collection of essays out here that have been published on the internet called The Federalist Papers. I don’t mean to be condescending in mentioning them because many people over the age of thirty or forty probably know about them already.
As to the young “whipper-snappers” out there, I have no idea what you’ve been taught…but…the Federalist Papers were written by James Madison, John Jay, and Alexander Hamilton and published in New York City Newspapers after the US Constitution was written and awaiting ratification by the individual states.
I can’t make you click on the link and take the time to read these writings, but I wish that everyone would, because they provide an excellent context as to where our country has come from and possibly where we are going—if we don’t further lose our way due to the insanity of crappy public education, partisanship, and various other forces of dubious intents and capabilities.
Next I’d like to present a few of my favorite historical quotations. (If you’re a regular reader, please excuse any redundancy found in this offering):
"Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience."
--C.S. Lewis
"A republic will avoid war unless the avoidance might create conditions that are worse than warfare itself. Sometimes, the dispositions of those who choose to make themselves our enemies leaves us no choice. In any case, declarations of war rest with the legislature alone; the President is authorized to take defensive actions only."
"When, in spite of all efforts to avoid it, a republic must go to war, the focus of the nation is temporarily changed. The President, as Commander-In-Chief, assumes the extraordinary powers necessary to conduct the all-out effort. Citizens and legislators must then put aside differences and unite against the common enemy. Undesirable conduct may be forced on the republic in dealing with an unscrupulous enemy."
"The right to procure property and to use it for one's own enjoyment is essential to the freedom of every person, and our other rights would mean little without these rights of property ownership. It is also for these reasons that the government's power to tax property is placed in those representatives most frequently and directly responsible to the people, since it is the people themselves who must pay those taxes out of their holdings of property."
—Thomas Jefferson
"I am in the prime of my senility"
"If you would persuade, you should appeal to interest rather than intellect..."
"Never leave that till tomorrow what you can do today."
"Search others for their virtues, thyself for thy vices."
"Remember not only to say the right thing in the right place, but far more difficult still, to leave unsaid the wrong thing at a tempting moment"
--Benjamin Franklin
And finally, a few short stabs from my idol Samuel Clemmons:
"Clothes make the man... Naked people have little or no influence on society."
"Education: that which reveals to the wise, and conceals from the stupid, the vast limits of their knowledge."
"Facts are stubborn things, but statistics are more pliable."
"If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything."
"Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn't."
"It is easier to stay out than get out."
"Let us so live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry."
"I have been through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened."
"Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first."
"Suppose you were an idiot and suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself."
"The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug."
--Mark Twain
OK, now go out there and enjoy your Independence Day, cook some hot dogs, visit with your family, and even take the time to READ something serious besides MY internet rantings…
Unless I change my mind and get inspired by something, this morning, on the anniversary of our great nation’s independence, I’m just going to point out some recommended reading, and offer some famous quotes for your enjoyment….
First, there is a collection of essays out here that have been published on the internet called The Federalist Papers. I don’t mean to be condescending in mentioning them because many people over the age of thirty or forty probably know about them already.
As to the young “whipper-snappers” out there, I have no idea what you’ve been taught…but…the Federalist Papers were written by James Madison, John Jay, and Alexander Hamilton and published in New York City Newspapers after the US Constitution was written and awaiting ratification by the individual states.
I can’t make you click on the link and take the time to read these writings, but I wish that everyone would, because they provide an excellent context as to where our country has come from and possibly where we are going—if we don’t further lose our way due to the insanity of crappy public education, partisanship, and various other forces of dubious intents and capabilities.
Next I’d like to present a few of my favorite historical quotations. (If you’re a regular reader, please excuse any redundancy found in this offering):
"Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience."
--C.S. Lewis
"A republic will avoid war unless the avoidance might create conditions that are worse than warfare itself. Sometimes, the dispositions of those who choose to make themselves our enemies leaves us no choice. In any case, declarations of war rest with the legislature alone; the President is authorized to take defensive actions only."
"When, in spite of all efforts to avoid it, a republic must go to war, the focus of the nation is temporarily changed. The President, as Commander-In-Chief, assumes the extraordinary powers necessary to conduct the all-out effort. Citizens and legislators must then put aside differences and unite against the common enemy. Undesirable conduct may be forced on the republic in dealing with an unscrupulous enemy."
"The right to procure property and to use it for one's own enjoyment is essential to the freedom of every person, and our other rights would mean little without these rights of property ownership. It is also for these reasons that the government's power to tax property is placed in those representatives most frequently and directly responsible to the people, since it is the people themselves who must pay those taxes out of their holdings of property."
—Thomas Jefferson
"I am in the prime of my senility"
"If you would persuade, you should appeal to interest rather than intellect..."
"Never leave that till tomorrow what you can do today."
"Search others for their virtues, thyself for thy vices."
"Remember not only to say the right thing in the right place, but far more difficult still, to leave unsaid the wrong thing at a tempting moment"
--Benjamin Franklin
And finally, a few short stabs from my idol Samuel Clemmons:
"Clothes make the man... Naked people have little or no influence on society."
"Education: that which reveals to the wise, and conceals from the stupid, the vast limits of their knowledge."
"Facts are stubborn things, but statistics are more pliable."
"If you tell the truth you don't have to remember anything."
"Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn't."
"It is easier to stay out than get out."
"Let us so live that when we come to die even the undertaker will be sorry."
"I have been through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened."
"Don't go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first."
"Suppose you were an idiot and suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself."
"The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug."
--Mark Twain
OK, now go out there and enjoy your Independence Day, cook some hot dogs, visit with your family, and even take the time to READ something serious besides MY internet rantings…
Monday, July 03, 2006
Baby Birds
We're Proud Grandparents... Of Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod
I went out and got these photos of the nursery area this morning just about sunrise. First here's a sign I posted when the little house Wren set up shop in our postal outbox:
Here's Nod...er Blinkin'...maybe Winkin', asking for a little snacky...
Here's the whole flock sleeping...
And here's everybody yelling at me to get the heck out of their faces so they can sleep some more...
We're So Proud...More photos to follow as our little family grows up.
I'm beginning to feel the urge to start knitting little things...
I went out and got these photos of the nursery area this morning just about sunrise. First here's a sign I posted when the little house Wren set up shop in our postal outbox:
Here's Nod...er Blinkin'...maybe Winkin', asking for a little snacky...
Here's the whole flock sleeping...
And here's everybody yelling at me to get the heck out of their faces so they can sleep some more...
We're So Proud...More photos to follow as our little family grows up.
I'm beginning to feel the urge to start knitting little things...
Brain Surgeon...Or Fry Cook?
What Will I End Up Doing When I Grow Up?
I hate to admit it, but these days I feel a little like Max Baer’s character Jethro Bodine on the Beverly Hillbillies.
For those of you who have been living in a cave for the past forty years or otherwise can’t bear to watch the adventures of the Clampetts et. al., let me remind you that Jethro—a graduate of the sixth grade—was constantly plagued with indecision as he pondered his employment options.
In addition to Brain Surgeon and Fry Cook, I seem to recall Mr. Bodine investigating other careers like…
Rocket Scientist
A “Double naught” Secret Agent Spy
Movie Producer
International Playboy
Rock and Roll Star
Airline Pilot
Frogman i.e. Navy Seal
Any way, I’ve been spinning around here on our little island for over two years and other than a little engineering consulting work here or there and some property rental income, my money making ability has basically sucked.
Yeah, I know, I know, I appear to be the ultimate philanthropist with my work with the community theaters and our neighborhood association, and we adopted a foster grandfather to look after for a year or two, but I’m basically bored out of my skull much of the time and writing blogs ain’t putting no bacon on the table and chicken in the freezer.
Thinking about the parallels between Jethro and I, I just realized that I’ve worked my way through most of his list of professions, and found most to be financial loss leaders when it’s all said and done.
I did twenty years of highly technical work as a Mechanical engineer. Those jobs paid really well and I guess that you could say that I was close to being a “Rocket Scientist.”
I spent a couple of months spying on the sexual antics of a soon to be ex-wife before she moved out, threatened to have me killed, and put a restraining order on me. Not much of what I’d call a success, but all in all a good learning experience. I’m most definitely not private investigator or spy material, in my estimation.
I've never had much interest in movie production. In fact, I’ve never owned a video or movie camera and I haven’t been to a movie in a movie theater since the last Lord of the Rings film came out.
As far as being an International Playboy, I once took three different women to the same Jamaican resort in a twelve month period back in the mid-nineties. I was quite famous with the resort staff and I guess that I was trying to play the ladies man back then. I'm proud to report that for the past five years I’ve settled down with a wonderful woman that puts up with my quirks and obsessions.
As a rock and roll star, I did about a year in the late 90’s as a harmonica player and back up vocalist with a local Atlanta band that had a good deal of potential until the inevitable infighting, wife/girlfriend issues, insanity, and job relocations broke our little gang up. But then again. there's always karaoke...
As to being an Airline pilot, I never came close.
My navy flying career ended when my vision took a turn for the worse in college and my private pilot career ended when the FAA refused to give me a Third Class Medical certificate because of my hypercoagulative blood condition. I did manage to have the thrill of renting an airplane and flying around the planet by myself, and I'll never forget the day I flew my first solo flight and got my "shirt tail cut off." (All the pilots out there know what I'm talking about...)
Navy Seal?
Nope, the Seals would have killed me and used me for fish bait, but I did a short stint in the Navy Reserve back in the late 1970’s and I have spent a hundred or so hours underwater as a NASDS certified scuba diver.
That just leaves Brain Surgeon and Fry Cook, and I feel too old to go back to medical school now, although I could probably make it if I wanted to.
Finally I have to look at Jethro's Fry cook ambitions, and that’s another story entirely. I’d love to go to culinary school, but I don’t want to spend the time and money at this point in my life, so I’m thinking about doing the next best thing.
You see, I had an interview last week with the executive chef of the best damn restaurant here on our island. He didn't make me any promises of employment because he had just started the interview process, and he thought that someone of my age and experience was crazy to want to start at the bottom in the restaurant business, but I think that the interview went quite well and I know that I’d love the experience.
In addition to having the opportunity to improve my cooking skills and recipe knowledge, my Redneck Gourmet cooking blog would benefit and the cookbook would finally get done.
AAAAAHHHHH…WHAT HAVE I DONE?
THEY MIGHT SAY YES, THEN I’D HAVE TO GO TO WORK.
Maybe I should start comparing myself to Samuel Clemmons…
Let’s see...
Author
River boat captain
Newspaper reporter
Yeah, that's the ticket...
I haven’t done any of that stuff yet.
I hate to admit it, but these days I feel a little like Max Baer’s character Jethro Bodine on the Beverly Hillbillies.
For those of you who have been living in a cave for the past forty years or otherwise can’t bear to watch the adventures of the Clampetts et. al., let me remind you that Jethro—a graduate of the sixth grade—was constantly plagued with indecision as he pondered his employment options.
In addition to Brain Surgeon and Fry Cook, I seem to recall Mr. Bodine investigating other careers like…
Rocket Scientist
A “Double naught” Secret Agent Spy
Movie Producer
International Playboy
Rock and Roll Star
Airline Pilot
Frogman i.e. Navy Seal
Any way, I’ve been spinning around here on our little island for over two years and other than a little engineering consulting work here or there and some property rental income, my money making ability has basically sucked.
Yeah, I know, I know, I appear to be the ultimate philanthropist with my work with the community theaters and our neighborhood association, and we adopted a foster grandfather to look after for a year or two, but I’m basically bored out of my skull much of the time and writing blogs ain’t putting no bacon on the table and chicken in the freezer.
Thinking about the parallels between Jethro and I, I just realized that I’ve worked my way through most of his list of professions, and found most to be financial loss leaders when it’s all said and done.
I did twenty years of highly technical work as a Mechanical engineer. Those jobs paid really well and I guess that you could say that I was close to being a “Rocket Scientist.”
I spent a couple of months spying on the sexual antics of a soon to be ex-wife before she moved out, threatened to have me killed, and put a restraining order on me. Not much of what I’d call a success, but all in all a good learning experience. I’m most definitely not private investigator or spy material, in my estimation.
I've never had much interest in movie production. In fact, I’ve never owned a video or movie camera and I haven’t been to a movie in a movie theater since the last Lord of the Rings film came out.
As far as being an International Playboy, I once took three different women to the same Jamaican resort in a twelve month period back in the mid-nineties. I was quite famous with the resort staff and I guess that I was trying to play the ladies man back then. I'm proud to report that for the past five years I’ve settled down with a wonderful woman that puts up with my quirks and obsessions.
As a rock and roll star, I did about a year in the late 90’s as a harmonica player and back up vocalist with a local Atlanta band that had a good deal of potential until the inevitable infighting, wife/girlfriend issues, insanity, and job relocations broke our little gang up. But then again. there's always karaoke...
As to being an Airline pilot, I never came close.
My navy flying career ended when my vision took a turn for the worse in college and my private pilot career ended when the FAA refused to give me a Third Class Medical certificate because of my hypercoagulative blood condition. I did manage to have the thrill of renting an airplane and flying around the planet by myself, and I'll never forget the day I flew my first solo flight and got my "shirt tail cut off." (All the pilots out there know what I'm talking about...)
Navy Seal?
Nope, the Seals would have killed me and used me for fish bait, but I did a short stint in the Navy Reserve back in the late 1970’s and I have spent a hundred or so hours underwater as a NASDS certified scuba diver.
That just leaves Brain Surgeon and Fry Cook, and I feel too old to go back to medical school now, although I could probably make it if I wanted to.
Finally I have to look at Jethro's Fry cook ambitions, and that’s another story entirely. I’d love to go to culinary school, but I don’t want to spend the time and money at this point in my life, so I’m thinking about doing the next best thing.
You see, I had an interview last week with the executive chef of the best damn restaurant here on our island. He didn't make me any promises of employment because he had just started the interview process, and he thought that someone of my age and experience was crazy to want to start at the bottom in the restaurant business, but I think that the interview went quite well and I know that I’d love the experience.
In addition to having the opportunity to improve my cooking skills and recipe knowledge, my Redneck Gourmet cooking blog would benefit and the cookbook would finally get done.
AAAAAHHHHH…WHAT HAVE I DONE?
THEY MIGHT SAY YES, THEN I’D HAVE TO GO TO WORK.
Maybe I should start comparing myself to Samuel Clemmons…
Let’s see...
Author
River boat captain
Newspaper reporter
Yeah, that's the ticket...
I haven’t done any of that stuff yet.
Never Take A Car To A Boat Race
Lazy Blogging
I'm lethargic and over stuffed from dinner, but I feel like posting something...
Here, take a look at This Story and I might be back after a while with something meaningful to say.
(Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention that we 're grandparents...our little house wren's eggs hatched Saturday night, but I haven't been able to get a good picture of the chirren.
The three little fuzzies are each smaller than half of my little finger, and basically all head and mouth right now.
We're so excited, although we don't know whether to buy pink or blue balloons--maybe a couple of each?)
Bird pictures are coming...
I'm lethargic and over stuffed from dinner, but I feel like posting something...
Here, take a look at This Story and I might be back after a while with something meaningful to say.
(Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention that we 're grandparents...our little house wren's eggs hatched Saturday night, but I haven't been able to get a good picture of the chirren.
The three little fuzzies are each smaller than half of my little finger, and basically all head and mouth right now.
We're so excited, although we don't know whether to buy pink or blue balloons--maybe a couple of each?)
Bird pictures are coming...
Sunday, July 02, 2006
“Miss Crappy Pants” Strikes Again
I Guess That I Just Bring Out The Worst In Some People
It took over two weeks for me to cool off enough to talk about this issue, but now, being thearrogant bastard eloquent wordsmith that I strive to be, I feel like venting a little this morning.
What got me started thinking about it again came about while taking my early morningwander stroll around our complex.
You see, I just came back home after doing my job asofficial unofficial pool Nazi, checking things out to make sure that none of our Independence Day Reveler’s were abusing the property, and I noticed that the bulbs in no less than eight of our landscape, parking, and security lights are not functioning.
Still Again.
I want to say “still” because most of them have been out of service for over a month now.
Not a big deal for me personally, but it’s a maintenance issue that is a sore spot with many of our full time elderly residents—many of them women.
What pisses me off personally is that I’ve previously done my best to assist in these areas with theprevious arrogant asshole original property manager that I helped get fired, and now the current property management company has relegated the task of managing our 48 unit condo complex to a woman that has the personality of a brick, and the people skills of a prison convict bilge pump septic tank the Grinch.
In spite of paying over $7,000 per year for managment services, I've found that we have outdoor lighting in need of service here almost all of the time, and calling to notify someone of the problems is only met with arrogance and indifference, especially if it comes from me…but I digress...
I call her, thisoffending, unprofessional bitch lovely assistant property manager, Miss Crappy Pants.
If you are a regular reader of this blog you’ve probably already heard of her.
Any way…
Miss Crappy Pants and I got into another disagreement a couple of weeks ago, and she thinks that she won.
I have a little message for her…
SHE LOST, BIG TIME…She just don’t know it right now.
Here was the situation.
Just before Memorial Day, Miss Crappy Pants’ boss, Miss Property Management Company Owner, asked me to take a look at the pool deck and, pending her prior approval, pick up a few things at the local hardware store if we needed them.
I did.
And she did—prior approve my purchase, that is.
All we needed was about seven dollars of brackets and bolts to properly hang up our “Shepherds’ Hook” on the Pool deck fence railing. (For those of you that don't know, a ""Shepherds Hook" is that curved thingie on a long pole designed to pickunattended dead grandchildren poor unfortunate potential drowning victims out of the deep end of the pool.)
Until late May, our “Shepherd’s Hook” had spent at least three summers conveniently hidden behind a row of bushes, out of sight and unavailable in the event that someone that could swim wasn’t available to remove the aforementionedunattended grandchildren poor unfortunate drowning victims from their watery demise.
Any way, after a trip to Ace Hardware and after fifteen minutes of turning bolts with a crappy pair of pliers I brought with me for the task, our rusty “Shepherds Hook” was hanging up in plain view on two shiny new stainless steel brackets.
I was so proud.
Then a couple of days later, just before our mid-June poolside Condo Owners Extravaganza, one of our lovely neighbors that happens to sit with me on theCondo board of Directors asked that I purchase a tungsten light bulb to replace the one that had been burned out for about THREE MONTHS. This bulb illuminated our pool side flag pole.
No problem, another six dollars at Ace Hardware, another five minutes with a screwdriver, and we had a brightly lit American Flag in the evenings.
Hurray for me….
But then, enter Miss Crappy Pants—stage right.
I waited another week or so, not caring to make a special trip to the real estate office and not really wanting to deal withthe stupid arrogant bitches lovely property management staff, but finally I wandered into their office and presented the lovely assistant property manager Miss Crappy Pants with my original receipts.
After explaining what each piece of paper was for, that I had preauthorization to do the work, that I didn’t expect any compensation for my time and effort, and that there was no rush for repayment…
this stupid, arrogant, miserable, mouth breathing, ugly, crotch stinking, smelly footed bitch Miss Crappy Pants had the audacity to say out loud something to this effect (and I paraphrase because the top of my head blew off and I forgot the exact words she uttered)
“Well, I don’t know about this…how can I tell that this stuff was really for the pool area, and our regular contractors could have done this work if we had just been informed of the need.”
I turned 37 shades of red and purple, but I briefly managed to keep breathing and utter something about the “shepards hook” having been laying on the ground behind the bushes for 2-1/2 years. "What's there to not know about the need?"
Miss Crappy Pants didn’t blink, but instead added that she couldn’t tell by the receipt what the light bulb was and blaa blaa blaaaaaa….blaaa blaaa blaaa blaaa.
I reached across her desk, snatched the receipts cleanly out of her hand, and issued the following statement (and I absolutely do remember verbatim what I said):
“Dammit woman, but you have the worst F**KING unprofessional attitude on the whole damn planet. How dare you accuse me of trying to steal thirteen measly damn dollars. I don't know what you're about or what you're thinking, but I’ll have your job before this is over with.”
“Good luck”, She replied.
I turned and bolted out the door of the real estate office, and before I could burn the Mustang tires out of the gravel parking lot she must have come to her senses because she came outside and motioned for me to come back inside.
I flipped her a giant middle finger as I spun out of sight.
I also called her boss when I got home and told her about the incident, and stated that I would see to it that their property management company lost our account if Miss Crappy Pants continued to handle our business.
I tell you, I’m getting too old to let stupid idiot ignorant people upset me like that, and I’m actually a bit embarrassed at my own behavior, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, and…
The silence is deafening.
It took over two weeks for me to cool off enough to talk about this issue, but now, being the
What got me started thinking about it again came about while taking my early morning
You see, I just came back home after doing my job as
I want to say “still” because most of them have been out of service for over a month now.
Not a big deal for me personally, but it’s a maintenance issue that is a sore spot with many of our full time elderly residents—many of them women.
What pisses me off personally is that I’ve previously done my best to assist in these areas with the
In spite of paying over $7,000 per year for managment services, I've found that we have outdoor lighting in need of service here almost all of the time, and calling to notify someone of the problems is only met with arrogance and indifference, especially if it comes from me…but I digress...
I call her, this
If you are a regular reader of this blog you’ve probably already heard of her.
Any way…
Miss Crappy Pants and I got into another disagreement a couple of weeks ago, and she thinks that she won.
I have a little message for her…
SHE LOST, BIG TIME…She just don’t know it right now.
Here was the situation.
Just before Memorial Day, Miss Crappy Pants’ boss, Miss Property Management Company Owner, asked me to take a look at the pool deck and, pending her prior approval, pick up a few things at the local hardware store if we needed them.
I did.
And she did—prior approve my purchase, that is.
All we needed was about seven dollars of brackets and bolts to properly hang up our “Shepherds’ Hook” on the Pool deck fence railing. (For those of you that don't know, a ""Shepherds Hook" is that curved thingie on a long pole designed to pick
Until late May, our “Shepherd’s Hook” had spent at least three summers conveniently hidden behind a row of bushes, out of sight and unavailable in the event that someone that could swim wasn’t available to remove the aforementioned
Any way, after a trip to Ace Hardware and after fifteen minutes of turning bolts with a crappy pair of pliers I brought with me for the task, our rusty “Shepherds Hook” was hanging up in plain view on two shiny new stainless steel brackets.
I was so proud.
Then a couple of days later, just before our mid-June poolside Condo Owners Extravaganza, one of our lovely neighbors that happens to sit with me on the
No problem, another six dollars at Ace Hardware, another five minutes with a screwdriver, and we had a brightly lit American Flag in the evenings.
Hurray for me….
But then, enter Miss Crappy Pants—stage right.
I waited another week or so, not caring to make a special trip to the real estate office and not really wanting to deal with
After explaining what each piece of paper was for, that I had preauthorization to do the work, that I didn’t expect any compensation for my time and effort, and that there was no rush for repayment…
“Well, I don’t know about this…how can I tell that this stuff was really for the pool area, and our regular contractors could have done this work if we had just been informed of the need.”
I turned 37 shades of red and purple, but I briefly managed to keep breathing and utter something about the “shepards hook” having been laying on the ground behind the bushes for 2-1/2 years. "What's there to not know about the need?"
Miss Crappy Pants didn’t blink, but instead added that she couldn’t tell by the receipt what the light bulb was and blaa blaa blaaaaaa….blaaa blaaa blaaa blaaa.
I reached across her desk, snatched the receipts cleanly out of her hand, and issued the following statement (and I absolutely do remember verbatim what I said):
“Dammit woman, but you have the worst F**KING unprofessional attitude on the whole damn planet. How dare you accuse me of trying to steal thirteen measly damn dollars. I don't know what you're about or what you're thinking, but I’ll have your job before this is over with.”
“Good luck”, She replied.
I turned and bolted out the door of the real estate office, and before I could burn the Mustang tires out of the gravel parking lot she must have come to her senses because she came outside and motioned for me to come back inside.
I flipped her a giant middle finger as I spun out of sight.
I also called her boss when I got home and told her about the incident, and stated that I would see to it that their property management company lost our account if Miss Crappy Pants continued to handle our business.
I tell you, I’m getting too old to let stupid idiot ignorant people upset me like that, and I’m actually a bit embarrassed at my own behavior, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do, and…
The silence is deafening.
Art for Children
Mr. Frog Got an Pseudo-Honorable Mention
Well, last evening I attended my third Art Gallery opening in which I had some of my work displayed.
This time my contribution to the exhibit was three 16”x20” photographs. Here's one example...
Well, last evening I attended my third Art Gallery opening in which I had some of my work displayed.
This time my contribution to the exhibit was three 16”x20” photographs. Here's one example...
My nerves have calmed down a bit since the first exhibit last winter, so I could actually enjoy the event and interaction with the other artists. Let me tell you, there are some GREAT photographers here on the island and elsewhere that were represented.
Once again I managed to screw around, after knowing about the exhibit since last summer, and create a bit of a disaster for myself when it came to printing the final copies of my photos.
I actually shot all three images which I decided to use in this show in the fall of last year, but I waited until two weeks ago to have them reproduced in the larger format because of the cost, not to mention the framing and matting expenses.
We’re talking spending dozens of hours and hundreds of dollars when the process is completed and, for whatever reason, I apparently specialize in cramming it all into the last few days before a show opens.
I guess that I waited because we don’t need a bunch of extra giant format copies of my photos hanging on the wall and I didn’t get notice that I was accepted in the exhibit until early June. In theory all of the photo's are for sale to the viewing public, but I'm not egotistical enough to believe that I'll sell all three going into the show so you understand the issue of frugality.
This time it was a UPS shipping error that caused my agony, but I managed to pull everything together late Friday and the quality of my photos offset the quick and dirty framing and matting I was forced to live with.
The bad news is that I didn’t receive an actual award in the exhibit, but when I saw the work I was up against I understood why.
The gentleman that did the judging was a professional commercial photographer of some reputation, and he took the time to address each of the photos he recommended for awards, and in the middle of his discussion he commented at length on my photos, and mentioned that his young daughter liked my work the best and that she told him that his judgment was in error.
He even gave me an opportunity to address the audience about my work and explain what I had done and where the photos were taken.
There were nineteen photographers and 57 photos, and I was in the top eight images—not enough for a prize, but there’s always next year.
Based on the the little girl's reaction, I think that I’ll start sending my work out to the elementary school competitions.
Any kids out there need a giant picture of a frog or an azalea?
Saturday, July 01, 2006
The Island's Full
Everyone...Please Go Home....
As I've said before, about the only down side to living on an island near the beach is that on holidays and many summer weekends we get overrun with visitors.
This July fourth weekend is no exception.
After spending a panicked day waiting on UPS to deliver three 16”x20” photo prints for my entry in the latest contest exhibit in one of the local Art Galleries, we stumbled around the island in surprisingly light quitting time traffic delivering my framed and matted treasures, then after a few cocktails at a local tavern, we slumped into a cozy booth at one of our favorite restaurants about 7:15.
Thank God I’m on a first name basis with John, the owner of the Blackwater Grill. They actually apologized to us because in spite of not asking for reservations until nearly six PM, thay could only deliver the second best table in the building (our regular table had already been reserved.)
What then ensued could only be described as total chaos for practicaly everyone but Pat and I.
While we sat in the back dining area looking out peacefully at the adjacent marsh, people were stacked two or three deep at the bar and lined up out the front door waiting for tables.
Can you say TWO HOUR WAIT?
Out standard bottle of wine was served within minutes of our arrival, and the food was only slightly delayed as we watched John and his staff frantically dash and spin around clearing tables and delivering orders.
We stopped by the liquor store on the way home, and I’ll sneak out to the grocery store EARLY tomorrow morning, then for all I care all of the tourists can use and abuse everything on the island but my condo, my swimming pool, and the art gallery during the opening reception happening from 5 to 7 PM tomorrow.
Not to appear to be a snob, and believe me that we appreciate everyone that comes down and injects their hard earned dollars into our local economy, but I hope everyone behaves themselves while having their idea of a good time this Independence Day, and that they take their trash and cigarette butts home with them if they can’t bother to put them in a trash can.
Other than that, ENJOY Y'all…
As I've said before, about the only down side to living on an island near the beach is that on holidays and many summer weekends we get overrun with visitors.
This July fourth weekend is no exception.
After spending a panicked day waiting on UPS to deliver three 16”x20” photo prints for my entry in the latest contest exhibit in one of the local Art Galleries, we stumbled around the island in surprisingly light quitting time traffic delivering my framed and matted treasures, then after a few cocktails at a local tavern, we slumped into a cozy booth at one of our favorite restaurants about 7:15.
Thank God I’m on a first name basis with John, the owner of the Blackwater Grill. They actually apologized to us because in spite of not asking for reservations until nearly six PM, thay could only deliver the second best table in the building (our regular table had already been reserved.)
What then ensued could only be described as total chaos for practicaly everyone but Pat and I.
While we sat in the back dining area looking out peacefully at the adjacent marsh, people were stacked two or three deep at the bar and lined up out the front door waiting for tables.
Can you say TWO HOUR WAIT?
Out standard bottle of wine was served within minutes of our arrival, and the food was only slightly delayed as we watched John and his staff frantically dash and spin around clearing tables and delivering orders.
We stopped by the liquor store on the way home, and I’ll sneak out to the grocery store EARLY tomorrow morning, then for all I care all of the tourists can use and abuse everything on the island but my condo, my swimming pool, and the art gallery during the opening reception happening from 5 to 7 PM tomorrow.
Not to appear to be a snob, and believe me that we appreciate everyone that comes down and injects their hard earned dollars into our local economy, but I hope everyone behaves themselves while having their idea of a good time this Independence Day, and that they take their trash and cigarette butts home with them if they can’t bother to put them in a trash can.
Other than that, ENJOY Y'all…
Friday, June 30, 2006
Hungry?
Here…Try This
Did you ever try a “white” pizza before?
I’ve enjoyed it (white pizza) in a few restaurants in the past, but to date all of my home pizza making has revolved around a standard tomato sauce base.
Not last night, however.
First I made my standard crust from my recipe on my Redneck Gourmet Blog site, then I used the following ingredients to make our pizza:
One 9 ounce bag of baby spinach
One small can of sliced mushrooms (or fresh sliced mushrooms of your choice)
One small can of sliced black olives
One small jar of artichoke hearts
½ pound of soft whole milk Mozzarella Cheese (Sorrento or equivalent)
¼ pound of nice fresh grated Parmesan Localetti Cheese
Anything else you want like anchovies or sliced pepperoni—anything but tomatoes.
First roll your dough out nice and flat, preferably thin for a white pizza, and toss it on your pizza pan. Next, smear the middle of the crust (up to about an inch of the edge) with some good extra virgin olive oil, then dump the entire bag of baby spinach on top.
Now spread your soft Mozzarella cheese over the top of the pile of spinach, cut or diced into small pieces. (Please do yourself a great favor and don’t use the crappy, dry, grainy crap they sell pre-grated in the grocery store.)
Next comes the olives, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, and whatever else you want to torture yourself with, and finish it all off by sprinkling the fresh parmesan cheese over it. Follow all of that up with some basil and fresh ground black pepper.
CAUTION: do not add any salt—the cheese is salty enough.
When you get done, it should look something like this:
And after 25 to 30 minutes in a 475 degree oven, it should taste like this:
So aren't you hungry now?
Well, get started cooking, and go eat....
Did you ever try a “white” pizza before?
I’ve enjoyed it (white pizza) in a few restaurants in the past, but to date all of my home pizza making has revolved around a standard tomato sauce base.
Not last night, however.
First I made my standard crust from my recipe on my Redneck Gourmet Blog site, then I used the following ingredients to make our pizza:
One 9 ounce bag of baby spinach
One small can of sliced mushrooms (or fresh sliced mushrooms of your choice)
One small can of sliced black olives
One small jar of artichoke hearts
½ pound of soft whole milk Mozzarella Cheese (Sorrento or equivalent)
¼ pound of nice fresh grated Parmesan Localetti Cheese
Anything else you want like anchovies or sliced pepperoni—anything but tomatoes.
First roll your dough out nice and flat, preferably thin for a white pizza, and toss it on your pizza pan. Next, smear the middle of the crust (up to about an inch of the edge) with some good extra virgin olive oil, then dump the entire bag of baby spinach on top.
Now spread your soft Mozzarella cheese over the top of the pile of spinach, cut or diced into small pieces. (Please do yourself a great favor and don’t use the crappy, dry, grainy crap they sell pre-grated in the grocery store.)
Next comes the olives, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, and whatever else you want to torture yourself with, and finish it all off by sprinkling the fresh parmesan cheese over it. Follow all of that up with some basil and fresh ground black pepper.
CAUTION: do not add any salt—the cheese is salty enough.
When you get done, it should look something like this:
And after 25 to 30 minutes in a 475 degree oven, it should taste like this:
So aren't you hungry now?
Well, get started cooking, and go eat....
Can We Talk For A Minute?
Sit down and pour yourself a cup of Coffee…
First look at this story, then when you're finished I want to ask a couple of questions.
PHILADELPHIA -- A woman accused of embezzling more than $1.5 million from a credit union and buying more than 1,500 items, including hundreds of pairs of shoes and a $60,000 swimming pool, has been sentenced to 27 months in prison.
Betty Jean Barachie, 39, of Kunkletown also bought 58 coats, 16 chain saws, a $25,000 John Deere tractor and more than 3,000 books, piling most of the items in her home with the tags still attached, said Dr. George Perovich, an Allentown psychologist. "She was a compulsive shopper and was one of the most extreme cases I'd ever seen."
Barachie acknowledged stealing money from the Northampton-Carbon County Federal Credit Union, where she worked, from 1995 to 2003. She pleaded guilty in October to charges of embezzlement and filing a false federal tax return.
During Tuesday's sentencing, U.S. District Judge Eduardo C. Robreno chastised the U.S. attorney's office for failing to prosecute others allegedly involved in looting what was believed to be millions from the credit union, which became insolvent and was forced to close in September 2004.
"You have a small fish here. Where are the big fish? No one else has been charged with a parking ticket in this case," Robreno said.
Assistant U.S. Attorney Bernadette McKeon said a grand jury is considering whether additional indictments are appropriate.
Barachie has already begun working to pay back the money she stole by selling her purchases on e-Bay. She's sold 1,000 items so far, bringing in $60,000, defense attorney John Waldron said. Another 500 items are still up for sale.
The judge ordered her to pay $50 a month in restitution while she's in prison and at least $200 a month once she's released.
Can you believe this crap?
So this chick stole OVER ONE AND ONE HALF MILLION DOLLARS from a credit union, while probably clutching a Louis Vuitton handbag and clomping around in some other brand of designer sandals, and she only gets 27 MONTHS of jail time?
Let’s see …$1.5 Million, divided by 27 months….
Gee whiz…that comes out to $55,555.56 per month.
I don’t know about you, but that rate of pay is starting to look a little attractive to ME.
In addition, she gets the equivalent of two new coats per month in the big house….
And one new chainsaw for every two months of time served…I like that.
Once she gets out of the slammer she can rush home and mow the grass around her $60,000 pool with the John Deere.
And, finally, where else can you get a $1.5 million dollar loan for $200 per month?
I would REALLY like those easy payment terms.
OK folks, all kidding aside, this is a perfect example of the complete bullshit being handed out by the US court system today.
If this lady had walked into the exact same credit union with a shotgun and a hand grenade and demanded cash, she would possibly gotten away with $10,000 or $20,000 MAXIMUM.
Not $1.5 million—banks and credit unions don’t keep that kind of cash on hand.
BUT, under those circumstances, this robbing thieving bitch would be doing ten to twenty YEARS, not a measly 27 MONTHS.
So I have to ask, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?
And like the “Defendant’s” attorney, I have to ask…WHERE ARE THE OTHER PROSECUTIONS?
How in the hell can there be enough fraud and embezzlement that could actually cause the Credit Union to have to close it’s doors?
They actually stole enough money to SHUT IT DOWN?
After all, as far as I know you can’t run out with your pockets full of pennies and quarters and start your own Credit Union, right? Credit unions are supposed to be worth tens if not hundreds of millions of dollars—money collected from regular citizens like me and you.
After seeing crap like this, how many of you out there want more government, when those in our existing oversized government are so busy turning their heads?
Now you'll have to excuse me, because I have to walk outside and scream...
First look at this story, then when you're finished I want to ask a couple of questions.
PHILADELPHIA -- A woman accused of embezzling more than $1.5 million from a credit union and buying more than 1,500 items, including hundreds of pairs of shoes and a $60,000 swimming pool, has been sentenced to 27 months in prison.
Betty Jean Barachie, 39, of Kunkletown also bought 58 coats, 16 chain saws, a $25,000 John Deere tractor and more than 3,000 books, piling most of the items in her home with the tags still attached, said Dr. George Perovich, an Allentown psychologist. "She was a compulsive shopper and was one of the most extreme cases I'd ever seen."
Barachie acknowledged stealing money from the Northampton-Carbon County Federal Credit Union, where she worked, from 1995 to 2003. She pleaded guilty in October to charges of embezzlement and filing a false federal tax return.
During Tuesday's sentencing, U.S. District Judge Eduardo C. Robreno chastised the U.S. attorney's office for failing to prosecute others allegedly involved in looting what was believed to be millions from the credit union, which became insolvent and was forced to close in September 2004.
"You have a small fish here. Where are the big fish? No one else has been charged with a parking ticket in this case," Robreno said.
Assistant U.S. Attorney Bernadette McKeon said a grand jury is considering whether additional indictments are appropriate.
Barachie has already begun working to pay back the money she stole by selling her purchases on e-Bay. She's sold 1,000 items so far, bringing in $60,000, defense attorney John Waldron said. Another 500 items are still up for sale.
The judge ordered her to pay $50 a month in restitution while she's in prison and at least $200 a month once she's released.
Can you believe this crap?
So this chick stole OVER ONE AND ONE HALF MILLION DOLLARS from a credit union, while probably clutching a Louis Vuitton handbag and clomping around in some other brand of designer sandals, and she only gets 27 MONTHS of jail time?
Let’s see …$1.5 Million, divided by 27 months….
Gee whiz…that comes out to $55,555.56 per month.
I don’t know about you, but that rate of pay is starting to look a little attractive to ME.
In addition, she gets the equivalent of two new coats per month in the big house….
And one new chainsaw for every two months of time served…I like that.
Once she gets out of the slammer she can rush home and mow the grass around her $60,000 pool with the John Deere.
And, finally, where else can you get a $1.5 million dollar loan for $200 per month?
I would REALLY like those easy payment terms.
OK folks, all kidding aside, this is a perfect example of the complete bullshit being handed out by the US court system today.
If this lady had walked into the exact same credit union with a shotgun and a hand grenade and demanded cash, she would possibly gotten away with $10,000 or $20,000 MAXIMUM.
Not $1.5 million—banks and credit unions don’t keep that kind of cash on hand.
BUT, under those circumstances, this robbing thieving bitch would be doing ten to twenty YEARS, not a measly 27 MONTHS.
So I have to ask, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?
And like the “Defendant’s” attorney, I have to ask…WHERE ARE THE OTHER PROSECUTIONS?
How in the hell can there be enough fraud and embezzlement that could actually cause the Credit Union to have to close it’s doors?
They actually stole enough money to SHUT IT DOWN?
After all, as far as I know you can’t run out with your pockets full of pennies and quarters and start your own Credit Union, right? Credit unions are supposed to be worth tens if not hundreds of millions of dollars—money collected from regular citizens like me and you.
After seeing crap like this, how many of you out there want more government, when those in our existing oversized government are so busy turning their heads?
Now you'll have to excuse me, because I have to walk outside and scream...
Thursday, June 29, 2006
The Bloggosphere Lost A Great One (Bumped To The Top)
Acidman's Gone
About right now up in Savannah, Georgia my fellow blogger Rob A.K.A. "The Acidman" Smith is being buried. It is truely amazing how many people you can get to know through the internet, and believe me when I say that a LOT of people knew Rob and enjoyed his efforts in the bloggosphere. In my final official mention and tribute to him, I'm bumping my June 26th posting about his untimely death to the top of my humble little space here on the internet.
Here's what I said on Monday...
This is getting pretty hard to do, writing (or not writing) about people I know (or didn't actually know) dieing.
Not to be redundant, but here I go again…
One of my blog Idols, Rob Smith from down here near Savannah on the Georgia coast, was found dead in his home yesterday. The jury is still out on the cause of his early, sudden departure, but...
Just DAMN...
I came close to meeting Rob a couple of times.
I could have and should have met the man in person because of our proximity here in the eastern time zone, but I didn't...and now I guess that I won't...
EVER.
Rob was the ultimate blogger. When his life sucked, he said so, but he also wrote about it eloquently and told you what he was going to do about it, and thereby gave you some hope for surviving.
I should be so graceful in expressing my own mental and physical trials, tribulations, and so able in guiding people across life’s rough spots and bumps in the road.
After all, If Rob could do it—ex-wife and child custody court and Company BS and addictions and physical ailments aside---so could I…that’s what Rob made you believe.
But now he’s gone.
Rob just crossed the THREE MILLION hit barrier on his blog in just a few short years, while at the same time I’m bragging about making it to twenty thousand—but his writing and ongoing perseverance was an example for me, and I’d like to say this to The Acidman:
Rest in peace brother Rob, and know that there are those of us out here that will keep on keeping on, in our own similar styles of blogging that you pioneered.
Somewhere, each and every single day of the year, someone’s “hillbilly white cracker redneck ass” will be aching, and we’ll be right here on the internet telling everybody how and why and what to do about it.
AMEN
About right now up in Savannah, Georgia my fellow blogger Rob A.K.A. "The Acidman" Smith is being buried. It is truely amazing how many people you can get to know through the internet, and believe me when I say that a LOT of people knew Rob and enjoyed his efforts in the bloggosphere. In my final official mention and tribute to him, I'm bumping my June 26th posting about his untimely death to the top of my humble little space here on the internet.
Here's what I said on Monday...
This is getting pretty hard to do, writing (or not writing) about people I know (or didn't actually know) dieing.
Not to be redundant, but here I go again…
One of my blog Idols, Rob Smith from down here near Savannah on the Georgia coast, was found dead in his home yesterday. The jury is still out on the cause of his early, sudden departure, but...
Just DAMN...
I came close to meeting Rob a couple of times.
I could have and should have met the man in person because of our proximity here in the eastern time zone, but I didn't...and now I guess that I won't...
EVER.
Rob was the ultimate blogger. When his life sucked, he said so, but he also wrote about it eloquently and told you what he was going to do about it, and thereby gave you some hope for surviving.
I should be so graceful in expressing my own mental and physical trials, tribulations, and so able in guiding people across life’s rough spots and bumps in the road.
After all, If Rob could do it—ex-wife and child custody court and Company BS and addictions and physical ailments aside---so could I…that’s what Rob made you believe.
But now he’s gone.
Rob just crossed the THREE MILLION hit barrier on his blog in just a few short years, while at the same time I’m bragging about making it to twenty thousand—but his writing and ongoing perseverance was an example for me, and I’d like to say this to The Acidman:
Rest in peace brother Rob, and know that there are those of us out here that will keep on keeping on, in our own similar styles of blogging that you pioneered.
Somewhere, each and every single day of the year, someone’s “hillbilly white cracker redneck ass” will be aching, and we’ll be right here on the internet telling everybody how and why and what to do about it.
AMEN
Does He Have A Tenor, Or A Bass Voice?
Look Who Came Back Again This Morning…
Is this a big damnfrog toad or what?
Is this a big damn
I just found him sitting outside by our mailbox, guarding our little Wren's nest this morning.
According to my quick research on the internet, he’s an American Toad called "Bufo Americanus."
I think that "Bufo" is an excellent name for this guy.
I also think that you'll agree that he's one big fellow.
He didn’t even blink when I laid that 30 foot long Stanley “Max Steel” professional grade 1” wide tape measure down beside him to give you some scale as to how big he really is.
I picture him having a voice similar to Isaac Hayes character “Chef” on one of Comedy Central’s Southpark episodes…
“OK chirren’…come on over here and watch me kick this white boy’s Redneck ass…”
Oh my God…they killed Kenny.
(There's a joke in there somewhere, and I offer my apologies to my non-Southpark viewing readers if they feel left out...)
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Ribbett Ribbett
Better That We Got Big Frogs Rather Than Big Gators...
This guy is about 4" long, and he nearly scared the crap out of me sitting at the bottom of the stairs this morning. You can almost feel the ground shake when he jumps.
Every animal down here is supersized--cockroaches as big as helicopters and twenty pound opossums.
You'll have to excuse me now, but I've got to go refill my Hummingbird feeder--they're tapping on the sliding door wanting inside.
This guy is about 4" long, and he nearly scared the crap out of me sitting at the bottom of the stairs this morning. You can almost feel the ground shake when he jumps.
Every animal down here is supersized--cockroaches as big as helicopters and twenty pound opossums.
You'll have to excuse me now, but I've got to go refill my Hummingbird feeder--they're tapping on the sliding door wanting inside.
Readers Comment—Phase II
And Once Again, I’m Compelled To Reply
In my continuing effort to answer any and all reasonable comments about my writing, I offer the following response to this polite anonymous comment I received, ironically to yet another response to a reader’s comment (confused yet?):
In my continuing effort to answer any and all reasonable comments about my writing, I offer the following response to this polite anonymous comment I received, ironically to yet another response to a reader’s comment (confused yet?):
My reader/commenter wrote:
Ok I usually agree with you on most things, but seriously, saying people on welfare or WIC shouldn't be allowed to vote? That's ridiculous. I do agree that a lot of people see welfare and other public assistance programs as cash cows, but there are some HONEST people that have needed those programs to feed themselves and their children for a year or two through rough spots. (No, really, there are, I have personally met a few!) What are we supposed to do--ignore the poor and let the rich make all the rules? Considering the gap is getting wider, eventually we'd have a feudal society and all be serfs farming the land for a cup of rice a day.
What my concerned reader/commenter is writing about is the following statement that I made when I was all wound up and in the middle of a good rant talking about our election process and politics in general:
"Major Improvement #2. If you are on the government dole…you know, taking welfare or WIC or any other form of support, including things like earned income credit, YOU CAN’T VOTE. When you stand up and get your lazy useless ass off of the sofa and into a JOB, and your tax burden exceeds your tax refund, then, and only then will you be allowed to cast a vote in an election."
I humbly conceed, dear reader/commenter, that I was wrong in asserting that ANYONE who was on government ASSISTANCE should be ineligable to vote.
What I really wanted to say was that ANYONE that is making a profession or career out of the public dole should be ineligable to vote.
Persons having a bit of bad luck or having been raised by crack head parents and needing a jump-start into life certainly deserve a voice in our political process.
Likewise, retired people promised social security and Medicare or that have the misfortune of being on Medicaid or otherwise needing government assistance after thirty or forty years of paying taxes would also be immune from my proposed rules against voting.
HOWEVER, anyone that simply makes it to the age of sixteen and then makes a career spending their day hanging out on a street corner looking for their “baby daddy” or selling “rocks” and “weed” out of their baggy assed pants pockets while awaiting their next “gumment check” needs to lose their voice in local and national politics, UNTIL if and when they ever recover from their stupidity or insanity and become productive members of society again.
That’s what I mean, I just didn’t say it precisely.
Someone (Thomas jefferson or John Adams er…one of the founding fathers) once wrote, and I paraphrase, that “Democracy works only until the majority of the citizens realize that they can vote themselves a piece of the pie.”
That’s the situation that we’re rapidly headed into if things keep going like they are.
But any way…thank you for correcting me, dear reader.
I appreciate the comment and the manner in which it was delivered, and I promise to attempt to be more precise next time, in spite of the veins buldging out of my forehead and the red tinge coming over my vision of the computer screen….
Awwww awwwwww ohhhhhhhhhhhh….thunk (the sound of me falling off the sofa)
I definitely feel another rant coming on...
Are All Rich People Crazy?
Is The Money The Cause, Or An Effect?
Everybody knows that the state of Florida is full of wealthy retirees.
Add to those numbers the middle aged and otherwise younger people that have chosen to relocate to the Sunshine State, and I think that you’ll find almost as many millionaires sitting around in Florida in bathing suits or standing on golf courses as you will find in New York or California.
As a result of the affluence of the population, it costs a great deal to live in most of Florida, even the inner areas that aren’t within a few miles of a beach.
My family had a chance to own about half of the Florida Panhandle back in the 1960’s if we had wanted to—for something like a dollar an acre--but we didn’t buy in.
Oh well…
After all, who knew that the south would actually “rise again” by taking all of the money from the Yankees that would end up coming down here to “the rural south” seeking to live somewhere that had a summer unlike that in their home states which lastsabout two weeks longer than one month.
Trouble is, they (the Yankees) never heard of things like sunscreen and mosquitoes and little bugs calledsand gnats “no-see-ums.” And don’t get me started talking about the Yankee men that like to wear black socks with sandals…
Any Way…I digress
In spite of the amount of money in Florida, there’s a good deal of dissent when it comes to deciding how to spend it, and money apparently affects the brain cells or something because a bunch of people in Florida are CRAZY.
They just can’t think rationally, and any time they hear something that they don’t agree with, rather than just changing the channel or changing their location or just ignoring it, they resort to petty attacks and attempts to embarrass or otherwise discredit the offender.
Case in point, today thepartisan asshole liberals wealthy Yankees down in Palm Beach County Florida are at it again, torturing one of their own (a Yankee transplant) that has wandered off of the plantation.
(OK, don’t start criticizing my knowledge of Geography, because in spite of where the Mason Dixon line fell, I say anyone from anywhere north of Tennessee is adamn Yankee.)
You probably know who I mean, don’t you?
Of course I’m talking about that mean old, middle aged, loud mouthed, talk show host Rush Limbaugh.
Poor old Rush, the Yankees down in Palm Beach County just won’t let it go.
Remember that Rush got caught a few years ago popping pain pills on a part time basis, without proper government authorization?
The media loved it.
Oooohhhhh Aaaahhhh Mister Conservative Republican Talk Show Host is a Junkie….
Negate everything he says….
Tar and feather him…
Run him out of town on a rail…
Put him in jail and make him watch Michael Moore movies 24/7…
Rush admitted that he had a problem, and now he says that he beat it, but that wasn’t good enough for the Palm Beach County District Attorney.
After subpoenaing his personal medical records, leaking each and every single detail of the investigation to the media within minutes of the events occurring, and otherwise violating Rush’s right to privacy (something liberals and the ACLU loves to defend except when the individual wears a suit and tie to work and votes “R”), last month Rush cut a deal basically not admitting guilt of “doctor shopping”, but also agreeing to not eat any more pain pills and not get arrested again for 18 months.
That would seem easy enough to me, for a guy that has a limo and a private jet and doesn’t beat his girlfriend and dance naked on the bar during happy hour in beachfront taverns.
(OK, Rush can afford to buy his own damn bar or build a bar in his home and dance naked with multiple girlfriends if he wants to, but that’s a mental image that I won’t press forward with here at the moment…)
So today the news hit the Radio and TV that US Customs officials had searched Rush’s private jet upon arrival in Palm Beach after a long weekend trip to the Dominician Republic.
Inside of his shaving kit they found….
Gasp…
Get Ready…
VIAGRA
Oh my GOD…Rush can’t get it up without pharmacological assistance.
Stop the presses…
Rewrite the headlines…
Call the BBC and the FBI and the CIA because Rush didn’t have his name on the bottle or bottles ofartificial wood “male enhancement” products.
Even the stern faces on the inane Jacksonville, Florida evening rush-hour (excuse the pun) drivetime TV news took time out yesterday from reporting on the latest apartment fire and crack head shooting to scream “RUSH LIMBAUGH ARRESTED FOR DRUGS.”
The funny thing to me is, almost each and every one of us is guilty of the same thing they’re accusing Rush Limbaugh of now—carrying around legitimate prescription drugs in containers without our name on it.
You know, things like those silly little Monday Tuesday through Sunday boxes that all of us old people buy at CVS and carry around with us in order to remember to take our meds?
I have to eat a drug called Coumadin every damn day for the rest of my life (if I expect to keep my blood from turning to Jello), and I don’t always have it in the original bottle with my name on it.
Unlike Rush’s drug, Coumadin doesn’t make me any more of a man, and it certainly doesn’t have any fun effects like making you “high”, or otherwise giving you a buzz when you take it. It just makes your neck and lip bleed until lunchtime if you nick yourself while shaving, but the US Customs officials could “detain me for three hours” if my Piper Cub landed at Palm Beach County Airport and they looked in my crappy piece of imitation Samsonite luggage and found it in a zip lock baggie with my stash of Tylenol.
Here is a good link to this story if you want to read it.
Now here is a link to a Huffington’s Post article linked by Yahoo about the same story.
Notice the difference in tone? Ariana Huffington is a stupid partisan bitch that happens to have a website and live in Hollywood or somewhere nearby (I don’t want to waste time doing a Google search, so bear with me.)
The bottom line, as I see it, is that Rush got searched by some wild-eyed zealous, possibly politically motivated idiots with US customs, and they found nothing in the process, but the process was already set into motion.
I suspect that the local authorities (Palm Beach County prosecutor and the Sheriffs department and God knows who else) knew where Rush parked his airplane, and this whole affair was a set up—a fishing expedition thinking that they might catch Rush with some recreational substances after returning from an obvious pleasure trip out of the country.
Rush told everyone on his radio show that he would be out of town (the location was a mystery) and the schedule was predictable because corporate jet pilots have to do responsible things like filing flight plans and such.
When they didn’t find OxyContin or anything else that could be used to prosecute their agenda, they did the next best thing and announced the presence Viagra.
Next thing you know, they’ll probably be announcing that they’re arresting Rush Limbaugh for Priaprism (having an erection that lasted longer than four hours.) If that is true, I just hope that he puts it where it can do the most good.
Screw this crap, I’ve got to stop thinking about this before my head explodes.
I’m heading for the swimming pool…you guys take care of things while I’m gone…
Everybody knows that the state of Florida is full of wealthy retirees.
Add to those numbers the middle aged and otherwise younger people that have chosen to relocate to the Sunshine State, and I think that you’ll find almost as many millionaires sitting around in Florida in bathing suits or standing on golf courses as you will find in New York or California.
As a result of the affluence of the population, it costs a great deal to live in most of Florida, even the inner areas that aren’t within a few miles of a beach.
My family had a chance to own about half of the Florida Panhandle back in the 1960’s if we had wanted to—for something like a dollar an acre--but we didn’t buy in.
Oh well…
After all, who knew that the south would actually “rise again” by taking all of the money from the Yankees that would end up coming down here to “the rural south” seeking to live somewhere that had a summer unlike that in their home states which lasts
Trouble is, they (the Yankees) never heard of things like sunscreen and mosquitoes and little bugs called
Any Way…I digress
In spite of the amount of money in Florida, there’s a good deal of dissent when it comes to deciding how to spend it, and money apparently affects the brain cells or something because a bunch of people in Florida are CRAZY.
They just can’t think rationally, and any time they hear something that they don’t agree with, rather than just changing the channel or changing their location or just ignoring it, they resort to petty attacks and attempts to embarrass or otherwise discredit the offender.
Case in point, today the
(OK, don’t start criticizing my knowledge of Geography, because in spite of where the Mason Dixon line fell, I say anyone from anywhere north of Tennessee is a
You probably know who I mean, don’t you?
Of course I’m talking about that mean old, middle aged, loud mouthed, talk show host Rush Limbaugh.
Poor old Rush, the Yankees down in Palm Beach County just won’t let it go.
Remember that Rush got caught a few years ago popping pain pills on a part time basis, without proper government authorization?
The media loved it.
Oooohhhhh Aaaahhhh Mister Conservative Republican Talk Show Host is a Junkie….
Negate everything he says….
Tar and feather him…
Run him out of town on a rail…
Put him in jail and make him watch Michael Moore movies 24/7…
Rush admitted that he had a problem, and now he says that he beat it, but that wasn’t good enough for the Palm Beach County District Attorney.
After subpoenaing his personal medical records, leaking each and every single detail of the investigation to the media within minutes of the events occurring, and otherwise violating Rush’s right to privacy (something liberals and the ACLU loves to defend except when the individual wears a suit and tie to work and votes “R”), last month Rush cut a deal basically not admitting guilt of “doctor shopping”, but also agreeing to not eat any more pain pills and not get arrested again for 18 months.
That would seem easy enough to me, for a guy that has a limo and a private jet and doesn’t beat his girlfriend and dance naked on the bar during happy hour in beachfront taverns.
(OK, Rush can afford to buy his own damn bar or build a bar in his home and dance naked with multiple girlfriends if he wants to, but that’s a mental image that I won’t press forward with here at the moment…)
So today the news hit the Radio and TV that US Customs officials had searched Rush’s private jet upon arrival in Palm Beach after a long weekend trip to the Dominician Republic.
Inside of his shaving kit they found….
Gasp…
Get Ready…
VIAGRA
Oh my GOD…Rush can’t get it up without pharmacological assistance.
Stop the presses…
Rewrite the headlines…
Call the BBC and the FBI and the CIA because Rush didn’t have his name on the bottle or bottles of
Even the stern faces on the inane Jacksonville, Florida evening rush-hour (excuse the pun) drivetime TV news took time out yesterday from reporting on the latest apartment fire and crack head shooting to scream “RUSH LIMBAUGH ARRESTED FOR DRUGS.”
The funny thing to me is, almost each and every one of us is guilty of the same thing they’re accusing Rush Limbaugh of now—carrying around legitimate prescription drugs in containers without our name on it.
You know, things like those silly little Monday Tuesday through Sunday boxes that all of us old people buy at CVS and carry around with us in order to remember to take our meds?
I have to eat a drug called Coumadin every damn day for the rest of my life (if I expect to keep my blood from turning to Jello), and I don’t always have it in the original bottle with my name on it.
Unlike Rush’s drug, Coumadin doesn’t make me any more of a man, and it certainly doesn’t have any fun effects like making you “high”, or otherwise giving you a buzz when you take it. It just makes your neck and lip bleed until lunchtime if you nick yourself while shaving, but the US Customs officials could “detain me for three hours” if my Piper Cub landed at Palm Beach County Airport and they looked in my crappy piece of imitation Samsonite luggage and found it in a zip lock baggie with my stash of Tylenol.
Here is a good link to this story if you want to read it.
Now here is a link to a Huffington’s Post article linked by Yahoo about the same story.
Notice the difference in tone? Ariana Huffington is a stupid partisan bitch that happens to have a website and live in Hollywood or somewhere nearby (I don’t want to waste time doing a Google search, so bear with me.)
The bottom line, as I see it, is that Rush got searched by some wild-eyed zealous, possibly politically motivated idiots with US customs, and they found nothing in the process, but the process was already set into motion.
I suspect that the local authorities (Palm Beach County prosecutor and the Sheriffs department and God knows who else) knew where Rush parked his airplane, and this whole affair was a set up—a fishing expedition thinking that they might catch Rush with some recreational substances after returning from an obvious pleasure trip out of the country.
Rush told everyone on his radio show that he would be out of town (the location was a mystery) and the schedule was predictable because corporate jet pilots have to do responsible things like filing flight plans and such.
When they didn’t find OxyContin or anything else that could be used to prosecute their agenda, they did the next best thing and announced the presence Viagra.
Next thing you know, they’ll probably be announcing that they’re arresting Rush Limbaugh for Priaprism (having an erection that lasted longer than four hours.) If that is true, I just hope that he puts it where it can do the most good.
Screw this crap, I’ve got to stop thinking about this before my head explodes.
I’m heading for the swimming pool…you guys take care of things while I’m gone…
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
What Else Can I Say?
Let's See What Happens Now...
Via my blog Idols over at Powerline, here is the text of a letter from outgoing Treasury Secretary John Snow toUS Hater NY Times editor Bill Keller:
Dear Mr. Keller:
The New York Times' decision to disclose the Terrorist Finance Tracking Program, a robust and classified effort to map terrorist networks through the use of financial data, was irresponsible and harmful to the security of Americans and freedom-loving people worldwide. In choosing to expose this program, despite repeated pleas from high-level officials on both sides of the aisle, including myself, the Times undermined a highly successful counter-terrorism program and alerted terrorists to the methods and sources used to track their money trails.
Your charge that our efforts to convince The New York Times not to publish were "half-hearted" is incorrect and offensive. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Over the past two months, Treasury has engaged in a vigorous dialogue with the Times - from the reporters writing the story to the D.C. Bureau Chief and all the way up to you. It should also be noted that the co-chairmen of the bipartisan 9-11 Commission, Governor Tom Kean and Congressman Lee Hamilton, met in person or placed calls to the very highest levels of the Times urging the paper not to publish the story. Members of Congress, senior U.S. Government officials and well-respected legal authorities from both sides of the aisle also asked the paper not to publish or supported the legality and validity of the program.
Indeed, I invited you to my office for the explicit purpose of talking you out of publishing this story. And there was nothing "half-hearted" about that effort. I told you about the true value of the program in defeating terrorism and sought to impress upon you the harm that would occur from its disclosure. I stressed that the program is grounded on solid legal footing, had many built-in safeguards, and has been extremely valuable in the war against terror.
Additionally, Treasury Under Secretary Stuart Levey met with the reporters and your senior editors to answer countless questions, laying out the legal framework and diligently outlining the multiple safeguards and protections that are in place.
You have defended your decision to compromise this program by asserting that "terror financiers know" our methods for tracking their funds and have already moved to other methods to send money. The fact that your editors believe themselves to be qualified to assess how terrorists are moving money betrays a breathtaking arrogance and a deep misunderstanding of this program and how it works. While terrorists are relying more heavily than before on cumbersome methods to move money, such as cash couriers, we have continued to see them using the formal financial system, which has made this particular program incredibly valuable.
Lastly, justifying this disclosure by citing the "public interest" in knowing information about this program means the paper has given itself free license to expose any covert activity that it happens to learn of - even those that are legally grounded, responsibly administered, independently overseen, and highly effective. Indeed, you have done so here.
What you've seemed to overlook is that it is also a matter of public interest that we use all means available - lawfully and responsibly - to help protect the American people from the deadly threats of terrorists. I am deeply disappointed in the New York Times.
Sincerely,
John W. Snow, Secretary
U.S. Department of the Treasury
Via my blog Idols over at Powerline, here is the text of a letter from outgoing Treasury Secretary John Snow to
Dear Mr. Keller:
The New York Times' decision to disclose the Terrorist Finance Tracking Program, a robust and classified effort to map terrorist networks through the use of financial data, was irresponsible and harmful to the security of Americans and freedom-loving people worldwide. In choosing to expose this program, despite repeated pleas from high-level officials on both sides of the aisle, including myself, the Times undermined a highly successful counter-terrorism program and alerted terrorists to the methods and sources used to track their money trails.
Your charge that our efforts to convince The New York Times not to publish were "half-hearted" is incorrect and offensive. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Over the past two months, Treasury has engaged in a vigorous dialogue with the Times - from the reporters writing the story to the D.C. Bureau Chief and all the way up to you. It should also be noted that the co-chairmen of the bipartisan 9-11 Commission, Governor Tom Kean and Congressman Lee Hamilton, met in person or placed calls to the very highest levels of the Times urging the paper not to publish the story. Members of Congress, senior U.S. Government officials and well-respected legal authorities from both sides of the aisle also asked the paper not to publish or supported the legality and validity of the program.
Indeed, I invited you to my office for the explicit purpose of talking you out of publishing this story. And there was nothing "half-hearted" about that effort. I told you about the true value of the program in defeating terrorism and sought to impress upon you the harm that would occur from its disclosure. I stressed that the program is grounded on solid legal footing, had many built-in safeguards, and has been extremely valuable in the war against terror.
Additionally, Treasury Under Secretary Stuart Levey met with the reporters and your senior editors to answer countless questions, laying out the legal framework and diligently outlining the multiple safeguards and protections that are in place.
You have defended your decision to compromise this program by asserting that "terror financiers know" our methods for tracking their funds and have already moved to other methods to send money. The fact that your editors believe themselves to be qualified to assess how terrorists are moving money betrays a breathtaking arrogance and a deep misunderstanding of this program and how it works. While terrorists are relying more heavily than before on cumbersome methods to move money, such as cash couriers, we have continued to see them using the formal financial system, which has made this particular program incredibly valuable.
Lastly, justifying this disclosure by citing the "public interest" in knowing information about this program means the paper has given itself free license to expose any covert activity that it happens to learn of - even those that are legally grounded, responsibly administered, independently overseen, and highly effective. Indeed, you have done so here.
What you've seemed to overlook is that it is also a matter of public interest that we use all means available - lawfully and responsibly - to help protect the American people from the deadly threats of terrorists. I am deeply disappointed in the New York Times.
Sincerely,
John W. Snow, Secretary
U.S. Department of the Treasury
Sunday, June 25, 2006
John Murtha Is Either Insane
Or He Is A Totally Complete, Partisan Asshole Idiot
Look at whatthe voters from Pennsylvania representative John Murtha had to say yesterday to an audience down in Miami:
MIAMI --American presence in Iraq is more dangerous to world peace than nuclear threats from North Korea or Iran, Rep. John Murtha, D-Pa., said to an audience of more than 200 in North Miami Saturday afternoon.
Look at what
MIAMI --American presence in Iraq is more dangerous to world peace than nuclear threats from North Korea or Iran, Rep. John Murtha, D-Pa., said to an audience of more than 200 in North Miami Saturday afternoon.
Let me say THIS about THAT.
Sitting on an airplane doesn't make me a competent airline pilot.
Standing in a post office doesn't make me a postmaster.
Having spent time in the military doesn't make me an expert military strategist.
Running for political office doesn't make me qualified to serve in said political office...
...UNLESS...
I aspire to serve and represent imbeciles and incompetents, while ignoring all of the intelligent, normal, God fearing people of my state.
That said, if I were John Murtha MY emphasis would be on a significant change of tone.
But John Murtha keeps getting more partisan and sounding more insane with every news conference.
Democrats in general and Pennsylvanians specifically should be seriously (re)thinking long and hard about who and what they want to show themselves to be on the national and world stage, else all of us southerners are going to start rethinking the outcome of our own Civil War.
Now where's my really big hammer?
Maybe it's just me...
