Mea Culpa

I'm sure y'all remember this post - 

A most excellent tale as you may recall. (Well, if you don't, here it is. There will be a quiz later and this will be on the Final! Better go read it, I'll wait.)

Point is, I was looking through the Master Comment Listing (or MCL as I like to call it) when I realized that I had not checked the spam filter in months. Hhhmm, I wonder if there's anything in there. So I go and have a look. (Besides which, the Tech Order says to check the desiccant periodically, otherwise those spam comments will get mushy and start to smell!)

Sure enough, there's a comment stuck in the filter. But it's not spam! It's from fellow blogger and all around super great guy and renowned warrior, XBradTC. I mean it's a purely lovely comment. No harm in it whatsoever. I have no idea by what cursed process this innocent comment wound up in the spam filter.

Believe me, those responsible will be sacked!

And (if you were just too busy to go back and look) here's the comment we all missed (um yeah, okay, I missed it, none of you were responsible. Though I'm keeping an eye on Six and Rumbear. You guy's are up to something I just know it. Stop smiling Brigid, I would not bet against you being the brains behind whatever is being plotted. If anything. Just sayin'...)

Oh yes, the comment - 

Old AF Sarge

Departing...

Looking Back

I know I'm not the only person who does this. But there are times when I'm thinking about the past instead of paying attention to what's going on right now or thinking about the future.  Of course, part of that is that at this time last year we were getting ready to head down to Virginia Beach to hang out with the WSO, Little Bit, the Nuke and Bear. It was a grand Fourth of July. The WSO and I manned the grill. We also made a serious dent in the WSO's beer supply. Good times.

But this week should prove to be fun as the DIL and the two grandkids from her and the Naviguesser are in town for the summer. The Naviguesser is stuck out in Cali working. He said something about "16 hour days" and I went into shock. Aieee! (As Buck is wont to say.)

It's still bloody hot and humid here in Rhody. It's starting to mellow a bit but I still feel all blah. Hot weather is only good when you're on the beach. And the cooler is full. However, one must needs report to work everyday to chase that pay check. Which still comes in every other week. So the bills are being paid, the house (while not paid for yet) is still standing.

Other than that, not much to report nor blog about. I am preparing what I hope will be an awesome Friday Flyby. We'll see how that goes.

For now, this is the Sarge. Bingo enthusiasm and RTB at this time.

The King's Shilling

The Press Gang
Robert Morley

First of all, I wish to squash any and all rumors which have been circulating that the press gang has gone ashore to round up new members for the blog. Granted, there have been one or two isolated incidents of coin changing hands in pubs with chaps who have perhaps had too much ale and then woken up to find themselves "members of the blog". Not that this is a harsh fate in and of itself. We abandoned the lash here at Chez Sarge late last year. Warn't much profit in it.

But there has been a veritable gusher trickle of FNGs flowing up the brow lately. I'd love to attribute it to my fine writing and incredible wit, but I think it's the pictures. It has to be the pictures. Especially the airplane pictures. Ah well.

(Now how did that get there?)

So, without further ado, I'd like to extend my greetings, salutations and felicitations to the newest member of Chant du Départ, Rob - 

Now whenever a newbie signs in, I try to indicate whether or not they have a blog. With Monsieur Rob, I'm not so sure. However, through the use of "geometric logic"...

Um, well, perhaps the less said about that, the better. As I was saying, and Rob will need to confirm this but I believe that these two chaps are the same.

The fellow on the right being this blogger. Or so it seems. You can judge for yourself.

Anyhoo...

New member, and we all know the rules for FNGs. Except I've made a new one, when the Old NFO makes a mess behind the bar (not that I'm accusing him of anything) the FNGs don't have to clean it up.

No one deserves that.

No one...

In Port (smouth)

It's a Tuesday, we're back at the Home Office. Which is in Portsmouth. Hence the pun-riddled title. Sorry, it's all I've got. The weather is hot and humid, the air handling systems in my office are running at way less than peak efficiency (if they're running at all) and I am just coming down off of my "travel high". Not to mention that there was a computer system in the next room with this mildly annoying alarm which seemingly had been GOING OFF ALL BLOODY MORNING!!!! (Chap finally showed up to turn it off, I had him show me how to do so. Why there is an unmonitored and apparently unimportant alarm on that system puzzles me. But not enough to lose sleep over.)

Whoa, wait a minute "travel high", what's that all about?

Well, when I'm on the road (as I have been for the past eight weeks) things are different. I'm in a different environment and things just feel, oh I don't know, kind of "special". In addition, being on the road gives me a lot to whine about. Now mind you, no one, absolutely no one, listens to that whining but still, in my own mind I feel put upon and I have convinced myself that I am doing this for the betterment of mankind.

Seriously?

Well, no. Not really. But as Buck and Bill Belichick like to say, "It is what it is."

There was a bit of a mild panic Up North on Monday. There were pleas of "we broke something and you need to come up here and fix it" and "oh my God we are all doomed". A couple of quick e-mails sorted that out. Seems that after we got everything working, someone decided to make a bunch of unneeded and uncontrolled changes. Changes were rolled back, hands were slapped, people were made to stand in corners wearing dunce caps and all returned to as it was when I left.

But for a moment I was contemplating an unscheduled trip back Up North. But that minor crisis passed. So for now, I have nothing to whine about. Which is good. I think...

A Tad Warm Today

Okay, so it's not as hot as Portales. Or Orlando. Or Thailand. But after a long period of temps in the 70s, 90 feels pretty freakin' hot.

The Missus Herself had been telling me all weekend just how hot it was supposed to be this week. She made it sound like the surface of the Sun. Not quite, but it is unpleasant. All that humidity.

Kinda makes me irritable. So, I'll refrain from being near people. At least until the Sun goes down. Hot weather? Not a fan!

Action Figures (They're Not Dolls!)

1960s Vintage GI Joes
(L to R) Army, Navy Air Force, Marine

When I was a kid, GI Joe came out. My oldest kid brother (the Old Vermonter) and I immediately wanted one. But there was a rather huge fly in the ointment on this particular toy. Seems that Dad had an opinion. It was not a favorable opinion.

Seems that Dad took one look at GI Joe and declared, "That's a doll." And of course, no son of his was going to be playing with dolls. The Old Vermonter and I were sorely vexed at this proclamation.

So what made GI Joe a doll, rather than just another toy soldier?

First of all, toy soldiers are supposed to look like this -

And they should come in a bag.

You shouldn't be able to change a toy soldier's outfit uniform. (Yes, that's right GI Joe has a uniform, not an outfit. Well, they do belong to an outfit. But they don't wear outfits.) So to my Dad, that's what defined a toy soldier versus a "doll". I should note that the term "action figure" had not been invented yet. Probably that whole "toy soldiers are one molded piece and come in bags" versus the one per box and he can change his clothes sparked the invention of that phrase. (Uniform, it's a bloody uniform!!!)

Sorry, I'm still a bit touchy about that.

Then one day my mother happened across a new kind of toy soldier. This guy -

Stony was his name, the only thing you could change on Stony was his weapons and his headgear. You couldn't swap outfits uniforms or any of that nonsense. (And not until today did I realize that Stony was actually short for Stonewall. Or that his last name was Smith. Maybe I knew this as a kid and had forgotten. But I think I would have remembered that.)

So this new guy met my Dad's definition of what was a toy soldier. He was somewhat skeptical as Stony was the same height as GI Joe and didn't come in a bag like other toy soldiers. But it was close enough. Dad couldn't stretch things and call Stony a doll. He was a toy soldier in Dad's book.

So come Christmas morn, the Old Vermonter and I both received Stony. We were ecstatic, until we realized that Stony could only move his head and his arms. He couldn't bend his legs or anything. Poor bastard couldn't even take cover when he was under fire. He could just stand there and return fire. Of course, he did have a pretty awesome array of weaponry as you can see in the photo. (I just noticed the bugle. What in the Sam Hill does Stony need with a bugle? Hhhmm, I don't remember the bugle from back in the day either...)

So Stony was okay. The other kids in the neighborhood (who did have GI Joes) would mock his inability to go prone, or sit, or run. Stony was always getting his ass kicked in firefights with the more poseable and limber Joes.

But in hand to hand combat, Stony was formidable. It was that stoic look I think. But still, if one of the Joe's knocked him down, the poor bastard was like a turtle on his back. No flexibility you see.

Eventually the Old Vermonter got two new action figures for his collection, but they weren't toy soldiers. They were these two guys -

Chief Cherokee

Johnny West

Now these guys were the first cowboy and Indian action figures on the street. They were cool, but there were only the two. Couldn't really reenact the Wild West with just one cowboy and one Indian. So the Chief and Johnny got drafted into the armed forces. They would be equipped with some of Stony's extra weapons and headgear.

Of course, old Stony was really feeling left out now. The new guys (who were fully poseable like GI Joe) were seeing more action than he was. Seems Stony's new job was to be a rear area pogue. Wherever Stony was, that marked HQ. Due to Stony's inability to take cover, he had been demoted to "in the rear with the gear".

Things got worse for Stony. The Old Vermonter got a GI Joe for his birthday. A sailor! Not sure what Mom was thinking. Of course, she's a Mom, what did she know about toy soldiers or playing army? But at least the sailor Joe came with his own equipment. Though that blue uniform did tend to give his position away in the field, at least he could go prone. Stony? Yes, still "in the rear with the gear". Until one day the Old Vermonter had an idea.

He recalled that Stony was a paratrooper. Maybe he had really stiff legs to withstand the shock of a parachute landing (what did we know, we were kids?)

So we made parachutes for the two Stony's. They could drop behind enemy lines and blast the enemy as they came down. Wouldn't matter then if they couldn't bend their legs or take cover. So we went ahead with that scheme. (Mom still probably wonders what happened to some of her bed sheets. Between parachutes for Stony and winter camouflage for us kids I'm surprised we had any sheets at all in the house!)

Stony as paratrooper worked out pretty well. Stony's pride was back and he was no longer a pogue, he could go into action. Then the Old Vermonter had another bright idea. As Chief Cherokee was a Native American, he should be pretty good at tracking and sneaking. The Chief should be the head paratrooper! (Not sure how Stony felt about that. He'd been on the roster a lot longer than the Chief.)

So Chief Cherokee got outfitted with a parachute. But it was then that tragedy struck. On his very first training jump (which was unfortunately from our raised front yard onto the street ten feet below) the Chief had a "Roman candle". His chute was a streamer, didn't open at all.

When the Chief hit the asphalt his legs kind of separated from the rest of him. Seems there was this big spring inside his hips which held him together. When the spring let go on impact, the Chief was never the same again. Oh, we patched him up as best we could but his legs were ever after wobbly.

Just as Stony couldn't sit, now the Chief couldn't stand. He could still fight, he just couldn't move all that well. And it really affected his buddy, Johnny West.

Of course, the two had come up through the ranks together. They knew each other "out west", as it were. When Chief Cherokee had his accident, Johnny took to the bottle. Of course, he was a cowboy and did have a certain predilection for hanging out in saloons anyway. So the Chief was a cripple, Johnny was a drunk and Mom found out about the sheets so we lost our supply of parachutes. So Stony was back "in the rear with the gear".

Also more GI Joes were coming into the ranks as Dad had given up his "that's a doll" stand when all the other kids on the street had GI Joes. And GI Joe was getting a lot more sophisticated as well. Hasbro was producing "foreign" GI Joes now as well. Germans, Brits, Russians and Japanese.

So the old guys were quietly retired. Sent to live out the rest of their days in the toy box. I know they were bitter. You could see it in Stony's face -

And yeah, that's a mug shot. After his time in service, Stony fell in with the wrong crowd. He and the Chief were picked up out in Arkansas when they knocked over a 7-11.

The judge cut them some slack based on their service records. Especially considering Stony's disability. Poor guy couldn't even run from the cops.

So yeah, I was into action figures as a kid. Still collect them. There will be more stories along this line. But this one's for Stony. You were one stoic dude.

A Day Late

There are three things I like about Fridays:

1. it's the last workday of the week,
2. preparing the Friday Flyby
3. heading over to the daily timewaster and checking out c w's latest Friday Open Road

Well, today (for those not paying attention) is Saturday. Note the title of the post. Now with these clues, you should be able to figure out what the heck I'm talking about.

Well, lately c w puts up a link to the Friday Flyby at his place and I put up a link to the Friday Open Road at my place. Note that this didn't happen on my side yesterday. I'm guessing c w put the Friday Open Road up after my bedtime, or through the mystery of the web of worldliness, I just didn't see it before I wandered off to watch Netflix.

So after all that rambling, here's that link to the Friday Open Road, a day late, yes, but still well worth your time. It's one of those Friday things I look forward to. It's something that makes be sit back, relax and say, "Ah Friday..."

Even if I am a day late!

Update: Be sure to watch the video. People having fun on surf boards and enjoying life on the beach. Those surfers are amazing!

And:
Say "Welcome Aboard" to our newest FNG, Mohave Rat, who provides us with his "two cents worth" over at his place. So everybody say "Hi" and then Mohave, you need to run down to the Class Six store and pick up some beer. I think Old NFO drank the last few in the fridge. (Keep an eye on him!)

Sorry Mohave, those are the rules, FNG buys the beer.