Friday, July 26, 2024

Inner Values

PxHere
I rather hope that the current political party, which uses a jackass as its symbol winds up in the dustbin of history. Unmourned, forgotten by most, and what little remains be seen as an abject lesson in human stupidity. (The other could shortly follow, the RINO bit anyway, and I'd shed no tear.)

I had another post all written and queued up for publication. Then I went to eat. When finished with my repast, it struck me that I didn't like that post. Not even a little.

So I deleted it, lock, stock, and barrel. No looking back. Two political rants in a row is way too many. I could barely stomach one. (FWIW, that's a first for me, never did that before.)

Anyhoo ...

Went looking for a graphic with a dustbin (trash can for the Yanks) and found the above. Loved the inscription on the can:

Für mich zählen nur innere Werte

Literally, "For me only inner values ​​count."

Wisdom on a trash can, who da thunk it?

But it's true, it's what's inside you that counts. What your heart says.

The D's have neither heart nor soul.

May they be discarded come November.

And thus endeth the lesson.



Thursday, July 25, 2024

Drought, Politics, and What?

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As you might gather from the picture above, the creativity drought continues.

There is a 65% chance of creativity occurring as the weekend approaches. Satellite and radar both show a major creativity system moving into the area as early as Friday. This will coincide with the Sarge getting a full night's sleep. (Whatever that means at this point in time. I'm not used to being in my 70s just yet, I'm still a rookie old fart.)

So yeah, not feeling it, don't feel like creating any new fiction, though I am thinking of resurrecting some old fiction and extending it. We'll see how that goes.

Though I tend to refrain from commenting on politics ...

I'm going to comment on politics.


Who is running the show in DC? What in the wide world of sports is going on in our nation's capital?

So Sleepy Joe isn't going to run again, so the braying jackass (the spirit animal of that party) steps up. (Not going to name names here, can't abide any of 'em, even the Rethuglicans.)

The head of the Secret Service steps down. I did watch some of the beat down by Congress the other day, she answered questions just like every politician answers questions. With word salad and absolute drivel. Of course the Congresscritters saw right through that, after all, that's how they talk as well.

I suppose if I sat in front of Congress and had all of them telling me "You suck at your job," well then, I might step down too. Who needs that kind of aggravation anyway?

Surprise, surprise, she resigns the next day.

As to the other guys?

Seems we're back to the classic options of the American voter ...



In truth though, I think a return to the Orangeman is the only rational choice.

Though I am reminded of what they said about Mussolini ...

"At least he made the trains run on time."

As an historian I have to be wary of "the man on horseback."

YMMV




Editor's Note: Comment away, just remember Rule #1, BE NICE!

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Thank you, All!

 Just thought you all should be the first to know.

Mrs J is out of surgery. Doctor said everything went very well. She’s in recovery now.  She’ll be in the hospital until Sunday.

Thank you all for the prayers and support. Obviously, they worked.

juvat




Brain Fried ... Must Sleep ...

Angriff der preussischen Infanterie, Hohenfriedeberg 4. Juni 1748
Carl Röchling
Source
I am at a loss for what to write about today. The weekend was long, a lot of fun, but also unbelievably tiring. Up at 0430 on Thursday to drive to Boston and back. Staying up too late most nights, then getting up at 0530 on Monday to see the kids off and then to drive back home again.

So my creative side, my Muse if you will, is off on a walkabout. Probably trying to "find" itself.

So today you get a cool painting of the Prussian guards advancing during the battle of Hohenfriedberg, which happened a long time ago, and not much else.


The comment spammers are coming in waves now. Some days I don't see them at all, other days I'll get twenty new comments urging me to chase some link where I can make 50 billion dollars a day bilking people on the Internet.

I suggested to Blogger (yes, I begged them to make it stop, they have that power ya know) to just mark any comment with a link in it as spam. I can always pull it out of the spam filter later. Pulling one or two innocent comments out of there is much easier than marking 20 comments as spam and then deleting them. One by one ...

Before Gargle changed their software to whatever it is now, comments marked as "spam" were immediately deleted from the live comments and placed in the "spam folder," where you could delete them en masse. Not the case anymore. I would complain about the deficiencies of software people at Gargle, but in reality they are the same everywhere. A lot of people get into this field without any talent, those who do have talent get browbeaten and rushed by idiot managers. ("Idiot manager," something of an oxymoron innit?) Then what do you get?

Crap, ya get crap.

But enough whinging.


How about the political scene, isn't that farking exciting? Every day a new twist from the stealth administration and their puppet masters. But enough of that as well. (Don't take this as carte blanche to go nuts in the comments with a political rant. You want to rant about politics, start your own blog, I'll show you how.)

Blargh ...


I always tell myself that I'll go to bed earlier, but I never do ...

"Omigod! Is it really 22:30!"

"Why yes, yes it is."

Think I'll go to bed now ...



Tuesday, July 23, 2024

Fighting Foos ...

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So LUSH and her progeny came east for one main reason, to attend a Foo Fighters concert avec moi. I mean it's only fair, she bought the tickets for me as a Christmas present, we had been to see the Foo exactly six years prior (21 July 2018), she thought a repeat visit would be nice.

It was.

Last time, we drove up to Boston, visited my kid brother, then went to the concert and drove back to Little Rhody all in one day. This time we did it a bit differently.

As LUSH had commitments out west for which she had to get back there the day after the concert, we booked a hotel at Logan Airport. Pricy but worth it. No get up in the middle of the night and drive to Logan, nope. It was get up early and catch the shuttle to the terminal.

It is a fairly easy walk, but not with two kids in tow (one a teenager) and luggage to boot. So shuttle it was.

LUSH and Your Humble Scribe in place and ready to rock. We had seats down on the field which were okay. It was hard to get photos of the band because, as you might imagine, so was everyone else. You'd zoom in, the picture would come into focus then WHAMMO, some guy's hand or camera intrudes and the focus is lost. Sigh ...

Hey look Denise, I'm smiling!
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I seem to remember the band being a tad mellower the last time I saw them. This time it was pounding rock through most of the night. Last time I felt my chest thumping like that was at a Waterloo reenactment when the cannons were pounding. This time it was all bass and drums, thumping, pounding, you could really feel it.

I might be getting too old for that. Well that and standing for three straight hours. (I mean seriously, who sits down at a rock concert. Not this geezer.)

A bunch of photos from the concert, kind of in order, does that really matter?

Weather was hot but dry, the music was raw and powerful. Place was sold out, the crowd was awesome, Foo fans usually are.

Yeah, we had a good time.

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Yup, Rami Jaffe (the Foo's keyboardist) broke out the accordion for one number (Skin and Bones).
It was a hoot!
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We look happy, don't we?
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This was the view from our hotel room around midnight.
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This was the view from our hotel room around 0530.
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We had arranged parking near Fenway, maybe a two minute walk. So we drove up to the hotel in the afternoon, checked in, got The Missus Herself and the granddaughters settled in with their iPads, snacks, and each other's company, then LUSH and I headed to Fenway.

Lots of traffic, took nearly an hour to travel eight miles. The return trip wasn't nearly as bad, though we missed a turn, circled from the airport back to downtown and had to do it all over again. A fifteen minute trip from Fenway to Logan turned into thirty minutes due to that (at one point we were within a hundred yards of the hotel but had already gone down the wrong road). But traffic, surprisingly, was nearly non-existent. Most of the folks from the concert were headed west, darned few were going east like us.

We were all up by 0530 on Monday, LUSH and the kids were ready to go, they caught the shuttle to their terminal while The Missus Herself and Your Humble Scribe packed up, got dressed and headed back to Little Rhody.

'Twas a long day, but a fun day nevertheless. Bottom line though, I still hate Boston traffic.

I always swear I won't do it again but then I do.

We shall see.

Rock on.



Monday, July 22, 2024

Big Week *

 Well...Still lots of balls in the air, although the Fridge Calendar isn't nearly as full of inked-in events as has been the case of late.

Top of the agenda (of course) is Mrs J's surgery on Wednesday. For the folks with a Fighter Pilot IQ (AKA Low) like mine,  that means that because of the location of the surgery, her diet is low fiber today, liquid only starting tomorrow whilst taking pills that will assist in the downloading of any former food debris in the surgical area.

Definitely in the "No Fun" list of human events.

Also this week, we had another health related incident in the family.  As a matter of safety and getting enough sleep, we have divided up the sleeping locations for our furry family members.  The two Felines are relegated to our bedroom with the door closed at all times.  The Great Pyrenees (AKA GPs) seem to not be fond of them.  The Felines have gotten used to having their own living space and don't seem to have a problem with it.  Our two Black Dogs sleep in our bedroom at night and have access to the rest of the house during the day.  The two GP's are relegated to outside at night because of barking and while I can still hear them doing so, it's muffled enough that it can be tolerated.  The Golden Retriever sleeps just outside our bedroom door, so no "Bad Guys" can get to us.  

Or so he thinks.

But, now that you know the layout, you can understand what's about to occur.  Because the Black Dogs are enclosed in our room, when they need to "You know what", they've been encouraged to do so on Pee Pads liberally spread out in various locations in the master bedroom.  Early this week, I hear our Dachshund/Chihuahua mix (AKA Annie) get up and walk over to my side of the bed.  I hear liquid running, quite a bit actually.  Shortly thereafter, I am wide awake because, well frankly, it stinks.  I turn on the light and let out a verbal comment that shall not be stated here.  

However, it woke up Mrs J.  The Pee Pad is covered in blood.  No Pee, No Poop, just blood.  Not knowing what to do, we check out our Vet's website and find out that they have a partnership with an emergency Pet  Vet a couple of towns over.  We give them a call.  "Bring her down".  So we do, at 0345.  Surprisingly there are very few vehicles on the interstate.  We arrive, they take Annie into the back and we find a place to rest.  Shortly thereafter, they come back and declare it "Hemorrhagic Dysentery Diarrhea" (Oops). Completely treatable, but will take a couple of hours before she's transportable to our local vet.

I have a picture we took of the blood to show to the vet I had planned to show in this spot.  Mrs. J deemed it not suitable for a family blog.  I said "Yes, Dear!"

Long(ish) story short, Annie spent a couple of days at the vet, but made it home for the weekend and is doing fine.  Mrs J and I, have spent a bit more time trying to catch up on sleep than is usual, so be it.

Oh, and by the way, an emergency vet visit is expensive! VERY expensive! But...Dogs are family also.

One more Vet related vignette.  While waiting around the vet's office, we got into a chat with the front office staff and found out one of the ladies also groomed Dogs.  Given that our GP's are not currently in the Pyrenees  and therefore don't require thick coats in July in Texas we invited her to stop by.

Grindill is in the background to give a size reference to the pile of fur from a single dog!

 

Suffice it to say, the elder GP is definitely "cooler".

Atticus has always been a "cool" dog.  Now, he's cooler!

 

On the good news family front, Little J and clan are safely ensconced in Jolly Old England.  They are in temporary quarters until permanent housing opens up at which time they will retrieve their household goods and get on with living.


Looks like the last scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark.  Who knew that's where their HHG's are stored

Apparently, Miss B has a bit of Fighter Pilot blood in her as she did quite well in her first airplane rides.  She even made friends with the Captain. 



 Course, it's not for lack of family members making an effort to bring her up "properly".


Her second birthday was Saturday and she'd been hospitalized for 6 months before she and her mom both came to live on our property because there was no medical facility that could take care of her in Hong Kong.  We came to enjoy their company over that 18 months quite a bit.  While we're very glad they are reunited as a family, we definitely miss them.  Guess we'll have to start planning a trip to "Jolly Old".

As soon as Mrs J recuperation is complete of course.

Peace out, y'all.

* No, Sarge, not THAT Big Week! Just a big one for us!

Sunday, July 21, 2024

On the Water ...

OAFS Photo
Saturday around lunch time, I was informed that we would be going down to Fort Adams, in Newport. I cautioned the clan that one doesn't just "go to Newport" in the summer. There are always lots of things going on down there. Festivals, exhibits, touristy things galore.

Alas, I was outvoted. When we arrived at Fort Adams, we discovered that unguided tours were right out, there's a festival going on, dontcha know?

So hey, let's spring for the guided tour for 50 simoleons for the family. I pointed out that it was 1530, the place closed at 1600. So really, even if they would do it, do ya really want to pay fifty bucks for a 30 minute tour? (I doubted that they started that late, though not huge, Fort Adams is big enough to need at least an hour.)

So blah, we didn't go in the fort. But right next to the fort is where Rhode Island's own SSV Oliver Hazard Perry is tied up. Let's go peek at that. So we did, couldn't go onboard but it was enough to take in the sights and enjoy the sea breeze.

So we did.

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A racing crew preparing to go out.
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We ended the day chilling in the back yard. A lovely, stress-free, relaxing sort of day.

My favorite kind.



Saturday, July 20, 2024

I Think It Was Friday ...

Source
People tell me that once one retires, the days of the week all sort of run together. Well, I'm on a mini-vacation right now and have lost all track of time.

I was convinced that Friday was Saturday because it was my second day off, as I was off Thursday to pick up LUSH and her progeny from Boston. Imagine my surprise (and joy) to awaken Friday morning, thinking it was Saturday, to discover that it was indeed only Friday.

What did we do all day?

Not much, a lot of napping was involved for the visitors from California and The Missus Herself, who also flew back from Maryland on Thursday. (Providence though, not Boston. LUSH and her progeny had flown in on the redeye Thursday morning.)

But we did go out for ice cream.

That was the highlight.

Ice cream.

Soft serve ice cream.

On a warm (the heat here has broken for a bit, no 90s, mid 80s only and lower humidity, praise the Lord) beautiful summer eve. Local ice cream place (only open in the summer) with a nice little park with a swing set and slide for the kids and Adirondack chairs for the adults.

We sat, enjoyed the lngering sunlight and ate our ice cream.

I could get used to this.

Yes, I plan to.

Ciao!



Friday, July 19, 2024

My Navigator Went Insane ...

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So the trip up to Logan Airport on Thursday instant went about as well as could be expected.

Boston traffic was ...

Well, it was Boston. Those who know, know. Those who don't, well, trust us, it can suck.

Source
Saw two accidents while inbound to Boston, one of which was fully off the roadway, yet caused a five mile backup as the gawkers had to slow down and check every single detail of what was happening.

The second was on the other side of the highway! Looked worse than the first, but there was nothing in flames, no bodies, nothing of even the remotest interest, yet traffic was backed up a good five miles.

People can be idiots, they try and prove this every day. But people driving in and out of Boston have the survival instincts of a kamikaze pilot, and the attention span of a squirrel. Yet I survived and delivered LUSH and the progeny safely to Little Rhody.

Now the opening graphic should tell you which navigation system I prefer. It was superb right up until Gargle bought them. Now Waze will actually panic.

Going through the Ted Williams Tunnel was particularly interesting.

As Waze lost the satellite signal, the sound of incipient panic was in her voice.

Waze: "Take the next right."

YHS: "Uh, we're in a tunnel, under Boston Harbor."

Waze: "At the roundabout, take the second exit."

YHS: "Uh, didn't you hear my first comment?" (Obviously not, I mean it isn't voice interactive.)

Waze: "Make a U-Turn!"

YHS: "Wait, what?"

Waze: "Turn right, turn right, then turn left ..."

YHS: "Dear Lord ..."

I was starting to feel like Captain Kirk, talking to Nomad ...



Waze will also panic in the Cape Code roundabouts, barking out orders to turn left, then to take the 22nd exit divided by the square root of pi. Then getting completely confused, telling me to turn at streets that don't exist.

When we came out of the tunnel, she corrected herself, almost sounded embarrassed about it.

So yeah, on the trip to Boston my software navigator went insane. On the trip back I had a real navigator, a WSO¹. LUSH didn't panic at all, though she did yell a lot at the other drivers.

Saved me from having to do so.

She's a good daughter, LUSH is.




¹ Weapon Systems Operator, backseater in the F/A-18F. (And the F-4 Phantom as well.)

Thursday, July 18, 2024

Oot and Aboot ...¹

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A long time ago in a galaxy far. far away I wanted to be a tank crewman. The Army kept trying to convince me to do something else, I didn't want to do the something else. "Tanks," says I. "Missile technician," says they.

So I joined the Air Force.

Anyhoo ...

Family coming in this weekend, I'm picking up LUSH and her progeny in Boston (probably as you read this) today. They fly back out on Monday.

Long weekend for me, long trip for them.

Why the short trip? Well ...

LUSH and I are going to a Foo Fighters concert at Fenway upon Sunday eve. Last time we did that was six years ago.

Better seats this time. (So LUSH tells me.)

Not sure how much blogging will be done betwixt now and Monday but hey, I might have the odd moment here and there.

Ya never know.

Rock on.



¹ My paternal great-grandfather was Canadian.

Wednesday, July 17, 2024

The People's House

Source
President John Nakagawa and his immediate staff were aboard Marine One, on their way to the White House. He was looking out the window, watching the countryside slip by below. He was thinking about the recent referendum which had more or less confirmed him in the Presidency.

More because he had won a majority of those who voted across the country, 65%. Less because he had actually lost in two states, California and New York. Rumors and some hard evidence of voter manipulation and outright ballot box stuffing would be looked into in those states, however, with the Justice Department in disarray and the FBI non-operational, that was going to take some time.

For now he had enough authority to get the ball rolling on his agenda. At least in theory.

He watched as he saw one of Lieutenant Colonel Ramirez's attack helicopters sprint ahead to be replaced by the other of HMX-1's helicopters, there were two on this trip. Typically the President would travel with three or more.

He turned to where his military aide, LCDR Higgins, was sitting with Bill Aspinall. The two were going over the plans for getting the Pentagon back up and running. Many of the people who worked there, unsure of who their bosses were supporting, had taken to staying home. That included members of the active duty military.

"Ya know Josh, in some ways they're derelict in their duties."

Higgins nodded, "I get that Bill, but what about the guys on the old Commandant's staff? They deliberately disobeyed his orders, most of them felt they were on firm Constitutional grounds, others just 'went with the flow.' The get along to go along types have to go."

Aspinall asked, "Article 32¹ hearings? That might take some time."

"These officers all have commissions signed by the President. I always understood that officers served at the pleasure of the President. Can't he just revoke their commissions?" Higgins offered.

Aspinall nodded, "The boss will like that, simple, clean ... Well, clean until those guys start hiring lawyers."

"Let 'em hire lawyers, they abandoned their posts. If they want to play hardball, we'll start convening Article 32 hearings. They go from 'you don't work here anymore' to 'you don't work here anymore and you're going to Leavenworth.' I think most of them will put their heads down and petition the government later. Hoping for a new President maybe."


Matthew Burleson was being held in Cumberland, MD, at Barrack C. There was one other man being held there, Burleson had tried to engage the man in conversation, only to be told to "shut the f**k up" by the trooper assigned to watch them.

He was filthy, he had encrusted blood and something else in his hair from when the SUV he had been riding in was shot up by what he thought of as a "trigger happy Guardsman." The blood was from his deceased aide, Ted Anderson. A round fired at the engine block had gone high, ricocheting into the passenger compartment and taking the side of Anderson's head off.

Barrack C wasn't meant to hold prisoners long term, it had once upon a time, but modern times sent hard core prisoners elsewhere. At Barrack C they had two holding cells, for drunks and assorted bad guys awaiting transport to a serious jail. They didn't even have jumpsuits for the prisoners. Burleson was wearing the same clothes he had had on when he was taken into custody. Filthy and blood stained, the troopers didn't seem to care.

A trooper eventually brought him and the other prisoner something to eat. Burleson saw the offered fare, ramen noodles, something he'd never cared for. Even though he was hungry, he just picked at his food.

He saw the trooper leave, so he set his bowl down.

"Hey buddy, you gonna eat that?"

The other man was eyeing his noodles intently. "No, but how am I supposed to give it to you?"

The man shook his head, "Man, I thought you had to be smart to be SecDef. Put the bowl on the floor outside your cell. You notice you've got about six inches of clearance under there, then push it my way. I'll do the rest."

"How'd you know that I was the Secretary of Defense?"

The other man laughed, "Senior Chief Al Rossi at your service. Got out about six months after you took office. Thought you were a numbnuts then, now I'm convinced that you're a prime example of a numbnuts. Jesus, I hates me some politicians."

"Look here, Senior Chief, I was your boss ..."

"Buddy, you were so far up in the chain, you weren't anyone's boss down in the ranks. So you can kiss my ass."

Burleson thought to answer that, then decided against it. His daddy had told him once upon a time, "Never wrestle with a pig, you both get dirty and the pig likes it." Seems the old man had been right.


They landed on the South Lawn and proceeded to the Executive Mansion. The lawns were neatly tended, the gardens immaculate. The inside was equally well cared for, the senior woman on the house staff greeted them at the door.

"Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen, I'm glad someone has arrived to make this place alive again."

President Nakagawa noticed the woman's name tag, "Ms. or is it Mrs. Kirkwood?"

"Mrs. Kirkwood, my husband died some fifteen years ago, but I still consider myself to be his wife."

Aspinall consulted a notebook and leaned in to the President, whispering.

The President bowed to the older woman, "Madam, thank you for maintaining the people's house. I am honored to meet you, your husband was something of a legend in my old service."

"Just did his job, Sir. I'm just doing mine. Is there anything you need right away?"

"No ma'am. My family is flying in later today, I assume the family quarters are as immaculate as everything else?"

"Just 'cause the country's tearing itself apart doesn't mean we can't try to keep up appearances. Family quarters are ready for occupancy, Sir."

"Thank you, Mrs.Kirkwood." Nakagawa again bowed. Then he and the staff headed for the Oval Office. There was much work to be done.

One of the kitchen staff nodded down the hallway as the President and his party left. "Seems like a nice fella."

"Polite too. I'm sure those folks are hungry, let's get 'em fed."

"Yes ma'am, lunch will be ready shortly, think they'll eat in the office?"

"Oh honey, I'm sure of that."




¹ A preliminary hearing required before referral to a court martial.