Any guesses on how the title relates to the video?
Muslims and Piracy
11 hours ago
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Chick Flicks Are Dead
And so is Nora Ephron.
Best chick flicks ever written.
Apparently Nora like Meg.
I'll miss you Nora. I was hoping for some old people chick flicks given that Meg is not a young girl anymore.
H/T my friend Z.
Best chick flicks ever written.
Apparently Nora like Meg.
I'll miss you Nora. I was hoping for some old people chick flicks given that Meg is not a young girl anymore.
H/T my friend Z.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Up On The Roof
Nothing beats the sounds of these guys as they fly over my rooftop every year.
So cool. They are mere inches wing to wing and flying at breakneck speeds.
So cool. They are mere inches wing to wing and flying at breakneck speeds.
Friday, June 22, 2012
May You Burn in Hell
Along with the assholes who allowed this to go on for years.
God forgive me, but I hope you meet the same fate as Jeffrey Dahmer.
God forgive me, but I hope you meet the same fate as Jeffrey Dahmer.
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
I'm Lovin It
I can't tell you how many pictures I have on my IPhone with this same idea in mind. Come on, you know you do it too.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Friday, May 25, 2012
There's a Bathroom on the Right
Just how many song lyrics have you heard for years and suddenly realized you had the wrong word(s) all along?
I think it was only two years ago when I finally realized that allergies didn't knock Gilbert O'Sullivan down, but reality did.
And we laughed that my mom thought Jesus Christ Superstar was Pizza Pie, Pizza Pie and Tommy sure played a mean guitar.
And how many of you thought we packed up the babies and grabbed the old ladies to go see Reverend Blue Jeans?
I kinda knew that Jimmy kissed the sky, but too many people thought he kissed some guy.
And years ago when my nieces and nephews were little, they were sure that Ronnie Milsap wouldn't have traded one Mamaw Ree (what they called my aunt Rita) cause it meant to much to him.
So, what did you miss-hear?
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Stop This Machine!
You know those moments when you slap a hand over your gaping mouth in order to keep from screaming out?
When I watched this I noticed I had both hands over my mouth.
Thank God the toddler was okay. While it was a stupid thing to do, it's horrible when the parents realize what has happened.
When I watched this I noticed I had both hands over my mouth.
Thank God the toddler was okay. While it was a stupid thing to do, it's horrible when the parents realize what has happened.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Heineken
I had just spent all morning doing what I hate.
Shopping.
I had been to five different stores from Nordstroms to Marsh, when I realized something was missing.
As I was driving through the last parking lot, my left hand flew to grab my right wrist. I realize it's missing. My left hand becomes panicked. Grasping over and over along my wrist.
I have on my favorite red jacket since it's a bit chilly on that November Saturday. I throw the car in park and like a mad man, I rip off my red jacket in hopes that what I cannot find on my wrist could have fallen safely into the elastic sleeve of red.
Turning the jacket inside out, frantically looking over the car seats, floor boards, between the seat and console.
Nothing.
It's gone.
While my stomach lurches and I throw the car into drive retracing every single step I have taken that morning, I remember the first time I tasted a Heineken.
We had stopped at the island a few years before. St. Marten or St. Maartin depending upon whether you are French or Dutch. Six of one, half dozen of the other.
As the ship docked, we watched from our balcony the scattered storms that had just passed through. I went back into the tiny cabin to finish getting ready for a quick breakfast and then out to replace the tennis bracelet we had bought three years previously. We traded the bracelet at a hometown jewelry store when we got a "upgrade" (ahem) wedding band.
Of course I loved the ring, but I also missed the bracelet. Bob had promised that we would replace the tennis bracelet on our next cruise that returned to the island where we bought it.
Bob yelled at me from the balcony to come back out. Out to sea was a beautiful double rainbow tossed between the storm clouds. It was just beautiful.
Unlike other ports, we enjoy the shopping at Saint Maarten. Our first visit found us at a very nice jewelry store where we bought the first tennis bracelet. On our second visit we knew where we were heading.
We were strolling along the village streets when another warm downpour moved in. We tucked under a shallow awning right next to a street vender. Among his cart were ice cold Heinekens buried in ice. It was barely noon. There was no where to go and nothing else to do so Bob buys a couple of Heinekens from the street vendor while we wait out the short rainstorm.
Isn't it funny how plans being interrupted can suddenly become the best part of the memory?
I'm fairly certain that whole day would have been less memorable had it just been another sunny day.
We sipped our Heinekens along the street. Looking back I remember how free I felt. No work, no worries, no timeclock, no rules. No reason not to have a Heineken with our backs along the warm bricked walls of local stores until the rain subsided.
It was the first time I had ever tasted one. The rain made it taste wonderful.
As the rain abated, we made our way down the street to the store. The store was narrow. All the stores are narrow in this little village. The salesman spotted the easy marks. But because of our previous purchase we also knew we could get a great deal. As we were eyeing the nicer bracelets, our slick sales guy was able to locate our previous purchase in their little handwritten book.
Great touch. It makes you feel important. Rich.
They are slick. We kept looking over the bracelets and wavered a little when he tells us to take the bracelet out to the sidewalk to see it in the in-and-out sun.
That seems so odd, doesn't it? Take a four caret diamond tennis bracelet outside the store without buying it first? Yikes. But we did. And he was right. The sparkle was VERY convincing.
When we came back inside, we saw two couples at the back of the store having a great time with the owner. They were being given the royal treatment. As Bob was haggling over the price another quick thunderstorm crops up.
We agree on a price, they are fitting the bracelet to my weakling wrist and so we wait.
We pick up on the conversation with the two couples. Since it's pouring outside, we talk with them as they take another swig on their Heinekens that the store owner had brought them.
They are friends that have booked back-to-back 7 day cruises with Royal Caribbean. 14 days total was cheaper than a 10 day cruise. They had shopped here several times, hence the royal treatment.
As we chat, the owner grabs a couple more beers and hand them to us while we wait for the bracelet.
Back to that November Saturday.
I retraced every single step in reverse. Every step in the parking lots, into the stores, up the aisles, under the shelves, at the lost and found, leaving my name and number. All the way back to my driveway and through the house.
It was just gone.
And I wonder today just who is wearing my bracelet. Since I left my name and number at every location, they never turned it in.
So do they put it on in the morning and think they won the lottery or do they have just a little bit of guilt knowing that someone else lost it?
Either way, their memory is finding a bit of luck in a parking lot. Mine is one of rain, beer, double rainbows, running outside to see the diamonds sparkle in the sun and another swig of Heineken back in the office with two other couples laughing a gorgeous St. Martin afternoon away.
Shopping.
I had been to five different stores from Nordstroms to Marsh, when I realized something was missing.
As I was driving through the last parking lot, my left hand flew to grab my right wrist. I realize it's missing. My left hand becomes panicked. Grasping over and over along my wrist.
I have on my favorite red jacket since it's a bit chilly on that November Saturday. I throw the car in park and like a mad man, I rip off my red jacket in hopes that what I cannot find on my wrist could have fallen safely into the elastic sleeve of red.
Turning the jacket inside out, frantically looking over the car seats, floor boards, between the seat and console.
Nothing.
It's gone.
While my stomach lurches and I throw the car into drive retracing every single step I have taken that morning, I remember the first time I tasted a Heineken.
We had stopped at the island a few years before. St. Marten or St. Maartin depending upon whether you are French or Dutch. Six of one, half dozen of the other.
As the ship docked, we watched from our balcony the scattered storms that had just passed through. I went back into the tiny cabin to finish getting ready for a quick breakfast and then out to replace the tennis bracelet we had bought three years previously. We traded the bracelet at a hometown jewelry store when we got a "upgrade" (ahem) wedding band.
Of course I loved the ring, but I also missed the bracelet. Bob had promised that we would replace the tennis bracelet on our next cruise that returned to the island where we bought it.
Bob yelled at me from the balcony to come back out. Out to sea was a beautiful double rainbow tossed between the storm clouds. It was just beautiful.
Unlike other ports, we enjoy the shopping at Saint Maarten. Our first visit found us at a very nice jewelry store where we bought the first tennis bracelet. On our second visit we knew where we were heading.
We were strolling along the village streets when another warm downpour moved in. We tucked under a shallow awning right next to a street vender. Among his cart were ice cold Heinekens buried in ice. It was barely noon. There was no where to go and nothing else to do so Bob buys a couple of Heinekens from the street vendor while we wait out the short rainstorm.
Isn't it funny how plans being interrupted can suddenly become the best part of the memory?
I'm fairly certain that whole day would have been less memorable had it just been another sunny day.
We sipped our Heinekens along the street. Looking back I remember how free I felt. No work, no worries, no timeclock, no rules. No reason not to have a Heineken with our backs along the warm bricked walls of local stores until the rain subsided.
It was the first time I had ever tasted one. The rain made it taste wonderful.
As the rain abated, we made our way down the street to the store. The store was narrow. All the stores are narrow in this little village. The salesman spotted the easy marks. But because of our previous purchase we also knew we could get a great deal. As we were eyeing the nicer bracelets, our slick sales guy was able to locate our previous purchase in their little handwritten book.
Great touch. It makes you feel important. Rich.
They are slick. We kept looking over the bracelets and wavered a little when he tells us to take the bracelet out to the sidewalk to see it in the in-and-out sun.
That seems so odd, doesn't it? Take a four caret diamond tennis bracelet outside the store without buying it first? Yikes. But we did. And he was right. The sparkle was VERY convincing.
When we came back inside, we saw two couples at the back of the store having a great time with the owner. They were being given the royal treatment. As Bob was haggling over the price another quick thunderstorm crops up.
We agree on a price, they are fitting the bracelet to my weakling wrist and so we wait.
We pick up on the conversation with the two couples. Since it's pouring outside, we talk with them as they take another swig on their Heinekens that the store owner had brought them.
They are friends that have booked back-to-back 7 day cruises with Royal Caribbean. 14 days total was cheaper than a 10 day cruise. They had shopped here several times, hence the royal treatment.
As we chat, the owner grabs a couple more beers and hand them to us while we wait for the bracelet.
Back to that November Saturday.
I retraced every single step in reverse. Every step in the parking lots, into the stores, up the aisles, under the shelves, at the lost and found, leaving my name and number. All the way back to my driveway and through the house.
It was just gone.
And I wonder today just who is wearing my bracelet. Since I left my name and number at every location, they never turned it in.
So do they put it on in the morning and think they won the lottery or do they have just a little bit of guilt knowing that someone else lost it?
Either way, their memory is finding a bit of luck in a parking lot. Mine is one of rain, beer, double rainbows, running outside to see the diamonds sparkle in the sun and another swig of Heineken back in the office with two other couples laughing a gorgeous St. Martin afternoon away.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
The Strongest Woman I Know
He was dirty. A bit scary.
He never approached anyone, just stumbled around the tourist area.
He didn't beg.
So he blended into the background, overshadowed by the large number of other homeless people.
Close by was a fast food, independent vendor, selling hotdogs, hamburgers, all the touristy type food you expect, with picnic tables to enjoy your quick meal before moving on to see all the sites.
It's a city with great wealth and apparently a great number of homeless. The surrounding scenery was breathtaking, known throughout the world.
She was touring the city with her family. They had come a long way to enjoy the views and visit the city where she had started her family. They had seen the homeless everywhere they went and after seeing so many, they all seemed to become just a bit invisible.
When they sat at the picnic table, she was facing the homeless man. He was oblivious to her.
He was hungry and was intent on finding food and he found some.
In the trashcan.
My back was to him but to be honest, as awful as it sounds, I probably wouldn't have noticed.
But my mom did.
It upset her. Here we were, eating our food and this homeless man was picking through the trash to find something to eat. She sat down and took a bite of her food and kept shaking her head.
She couldn't eat. She just kept saying she couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand that he was digging through the trash to find food. She finally got up and said she was going to buy him something. We all pitched in money, way more than what would buy a hamburger. She ordered a sandwich or two, fries and a large drink. There was still money left over.
As she headed his way, I was determined to go with her. I wish I could tell you it was out of charity, but honestly it was because I wanted to make sure she was safe. It was daylight, but I know some of the homeless are not mentally stable.
He was sitting on a bench eating the little bit of food he scavenged from the trash as we walked up.
When I watched and listened to what my mother said, I was awestruck.
She approached him as if he was the greatest man she had ever met. She imperceptibly slightly bowed her head and quietly said, "Sir. Would you accept this food from us?" She carefully handed him the food and the money.
In the back of my mind I could hear the written words, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." It was as if she was asking him for the greatest favor anyone could ask. It was as if she was approaching Jesus himself.
Even now, the gesture brings tears to my eyes.
Happy Mother's Day Mom. I love you.
He never approached anyone, just stumbled around the tourist area.
He didn't beg.
So he blended into the background, overshadowed by the large number of other homeless people.
Close by was a fast food, independent vendor, selling hotdogs, hamburgers, all the touristy type food you expect, with picnic tables to enjoy your quick meal before moving on to see all the sites.
It's a city with great wealth and apparently a great number of homeless. The surrounding scenery was breathtaking, known throughout the world.
She was touring the city with her family. They had come a long way to enjoy the views and visit the city where she had started her family. They had seen the homeless everywhere they went and after seeing so many, they all seemed to become just a bit invisible.
 |
| Except for the Bush Man - Earns his keep by hiding behind the greenery and jumping out to scare the tourist. Of course we watched his show and paid him for the entertainment. |
When they sat at the picnic table, she was facing the homeless man. He was oblivious to her.
He was hungry and was intent on finding food and he found some.
In the trashcan.
My back was to him but to be honest, as awful as it sounds, I probably wouldn't have noticed.
But my mom did.
It upset her. Here we were, eating our food and this homeless man was picking through the trash to find something to eat. She sat down and took a bite of her food and kept shaking her head.
She couldn't eat. She just kept saying she couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand that he was digging through the trash to find food. She finally got up and said she was going to buy him something. We all pitched in money, way more than what would buy a hamburger. She ordered a sandwich or two, fries and a large drink. There was still money left over.
As she headed his way, I was determined to go with her. I wish I could tell you it was out of charity, but honestly it was because I wanted to make sure she was safe. It was daylight, but I know some of the homeless are not mentally stable.
He was sitting on a bench eating the little bit of food he scavenged from the trash as we walked up.
When I watched and listened to what my mother said, I was awestruck.
She approached him as if he was the greatest man she had ever met. She imperceptibly slightly bowed her head and quietly said, "Sir. Would you accept this food from us?" She carefully handed him the food and the money.
In the back of my mind I could hear the written words, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." It was as if she was asking him for the greatest favor anyone could ask. It was as if she was approaching Jesus himself.
Even now, the gesture brings tears to my eyes.
Happy Mother's Day Mom. I love you.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Don't Hate Me
Yes, I'm lazy right now. But considering I wrote this nearly three years ago now, I thought most of you have probably never read this story. So I'm reposting instead of posting, please don't hate me.
To me, the joy of traveling isn't just limited to the memories of the places we have been, but about the funny stories I can recall and retell for years. I'll post a few, although some were not funny at the time, they provide my family with some good laughs. Here's the first one.
You Have A Problem.
We planned a trip to Cancun many years ago. Although we had been on a cruise before, we had never been "officially" flying into another country. Leaving Indy, they checked our ID, which back then only required a birth certificate. Since mine had been just a copy, I had gotten a state issued one for our travel. Bob had his original one which was issued by the hospital and had a raised seal.
Back in the early 90's, Cancun airport was a mess. There were several hundred people all trying to get through a very intimidating Customs. Bob had noticed when we landed that there were actually tanks at the airport and many people with military style guns.
We were novices and nervous.
When we finally made it up to the customs agent, he looked at my birth certificate and moved to look at Bob's. Hmmmm, hospital issued, not state issued.
The agent, a very large scary looking guy, shakes his head. We looked at each other. The birth certificate should have been okay, we had checked at Indy. This guy just kept shaking his head. He said, "Robert, Robert, Robert. You have a problem."
WHAT DID THAT MEAN?
We are already in Mexico, what are we supposed to do. The agent said, "Birth Certificate, not good." It was loud in the airport and both of us could barely hear the agent. I leaned forward to hear him better and he gave me a stern look and gestured with his hand for me to back up. Again, "You have a problem." Bob laughed nervously and said, "What are you going to do? Send me home?"
The agent kept gesturing with his hand as if Bob should place something else in the paperwork. Ahh, something else. Bob patted his back pocket where his wallet was. The agent shook his head, and said, "Back of the room, back of the room." Bob understood right away, He was to take his paperwork and go to the back of the room and THEN add a little something extra to his paperwork.
Then the agent told me I had to go on through the line. He was separating us. Normally I can maintain calm, but this scared me. I looked up and I could not find Bob in the massive crowd on the other side of the line.
A couple minutes passed and he went back to the agent with his newly enhanced ID. The agent opened up the paperwork, took the $20 and said, "Thank you for the tip."
Nice.
I could not wait to get out of that airport. I was afraid it was a set-up and they would also arrest him for bribing a customs agent. I kept watching for some police to follow us. We only stayed in Cancun 4 days and worried the entire time that we might have problems getting back on the plane. There were none.
Back in customs in Indy, I asked the customs agent if the birth certificate had been ok. He said it was. I told him the Mexico agent "scared us".
I was afraid if I told our customs agent we had bribed the Mexican agent he might have to arrest us. The Indianapolis Agent knew what I meant. He said, "Get passports, they won't try to scare you again."
The Cancun airport has changed considerably since that time, it's now clean, efficient and welcoming. And the next time we went, there was no problem when presenting our passports.
But even 15 years later when Bob does something crazy, my family still repeats, "Robert, Robert, Robert, you have a problem."
To me, the joy of traveling isn't just limited to the memories of the places we have been, but about the funny stories I can recall and retell for years. I'll post a few, although some were not funny at the time, they provide my family with some good laughs. Here's the first one.
You Have A Problem.
We planned a trip to Cancun many years ago. Although we had been on a cruise before, we had never been "officially" flying into another country. Leaving Indy, they checked our ID, which back then only required a birth certificate. Since mine had been just a copy, I had gotten a state issued one for our travel. Bob had his original one which was issued by the hospital and had a raised seal.
Back in the early 90's, Cancun airport was a mess. There were several hundred people all trying to get through a very intimidating Customs. Bob had noticed when we landed that there were actually tanks at the airport and many people with military style guns.
We were novices and nervous.
When we finally made it up to the customs agent, he looked at my birth certificate and moved to look at Bob's. Hmmmm, hospital issued, not state issued.
The agent, a very large scary looking guy, shakes his head. We looked at each other. The birth certificate should have been okay, we had checked at Indy. This guy just kept shaking his head. He said, "Robert, Robert, Robert. You have a problem."
WHAT DID THAT MEAN?
We are already in Mexico, what are we supposed to do. The agent said, "Birth Certificate, not good." It was loud in the airport and both of us could barely hear the agent. I leaned forward to hear him better and he gave me a stern look and gestured with his hand for me to back up. Again, "You have a problem." Bob laughed nervously and said, "What are you going to do? Send me home?"
The agent kept gesturing with his hand as if Bob should place something else in the paperwork. Ahh, something else. Bob patted his back pocket where his wallet was. The agent shook his head, and said, "Back of the room, back of the room." Bob understood right away, He was to take his paperwork and go to the back of the room and THEN add a little something extra to his paperwork.
Then the agent told me I had to go on through the line. He was separating us. Normally I can maintain calm, but this scared me. I looked up and I could not find Bob in the massive crowd on the other side of the line.
A couple minutes passed and he went back to the agent with his newly enhanced ID. The agent opened up the paperwork, took the $20 and said, "Thank you for the tip."
Nice.
I could not wait to get out of that airport. I was afraid it was a set-up and they would also arrest him for bribing a customs agent. I kept watching for some police to follow us. We only stayed in Cancun 4 days and worried the entire time that we might have problems getting back on the plane. There were none.
Back in customs in Indy, I asked the customs agent if the birth certificate had been ok. He said it was. I told him the Mexico agent "scared us".
I was afraid if I told our customs agent we had bribed the Mexican agent he might have to arrest us. The Indianapolis Agent knew what I meant. He said, "Get passports, they won't try to scare you again."
The Cancun airport has changed considerably since that time, it's now clean, efficient and welcoming. And the next time we went, there was no problem when presenting our passports.
But even 15 years later when Bob does something crazy, my family still repeats, "Robert, Robert, Robert, you have a problem."
Friday, May 4, 2012
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Saying Goodbye with Respect
After dropping Bob off at the airport a few weeks ago on his way to our place in Fort Myers, he sent a text before I got to work. His text told me about an unexpected encounter.
As he was approaching the gate, he recognized an aging man heading the same direction. He walked over to the man and shook his hand and thanked him for his service. The man smiled and looked grateful for the acknowledgement.
It was the old guy's 80th birthday and he was likely wondering whether people still recognize and respect his tenure. He served three years in the Navy when he was young. But for the last 45 years he has been an elected official serving the state of Indiana.
Richard Lugar was elected to the United States Senate in 1976 where he continues to this day. Senator Lugar has few adversaries, on either side of the aisle. He's the third most senior member of the Senate and the ranking member of Committee on Foreign Relations. There were many elections that the Democrats didn't even bother to run a candidate against him because he's been virtually guaranteed a Senate seat, much like the late Teddy Kennedy.
Earlier this year, the Marion County Board of Elections determined that since Lugar had not resided in Indiana for the past 35 years he was ineligible to vote in the state. They finally ruled, however, that he would be allowed to re-register using his Indiana farm address, a place he never actually lived.
Those that vilified the TEA Party, claiming they were radical extremists and accused of all kinds of racist ideals are the same ones who glorify the Occupy Wall Street crowd who demands free everything. They also claim that the TEA party faded into the background, accomplishing nothing.
Except that we didn't fade into the background. And we only believed in less government intrusion, less out of control spending and no more business-as-usual in Washington.
Business as usual. To the TEA Party, that means voting for bailouts, voting for liberal Supreme Court Justices, voting for allowing illegal aliens citizenship, not voting for amendments to prevent taxpayer money from funding abortions and not voting for a ban to earmarks. Put a checkmark behind each of those that Senator Lugar supported.
This TEA Party that was supposedly faded into nothingness, found a GOP candidate to challenge Senator Lugar in a primary election. This hasn't been considered for years. And up until a couple months ago, a candidate running against Lugar was considered to have been a joke.
But today it appears that Lugar's guaranteed seat in the Senate may very well not have his name permanently engraved any longer.
The ads running against Lugar's opponent, Richard Mourdock would leave one with the idea that he is not much better than a crook. But an analysis of the truth of the claims against him have proven the ads are in fact a lie. Even Factcheck.org cites the ads as blatantly false and misleading.
Some of the latest polls show Lugar trailing by 5 points.
Today I visited the county courthouse since I will be out of town on primary election day next Tuesday.
For the first time in my voting history, I cast my ballot against Richard Lugar.
When we say we no longer want business as usual in DC, we MEAN it. Even if it feels a little like kicking Grandpa to the curb, we mean it.
I will continue to have respect for Indiana's statesman, but he has become so ingrained into the Washington culture that he no longer holds my political viewpoint.
Respect for his service no longer means voting for someone who does not represent my values.
We'll see next Tuesday if Richard Mourdock pulls off the unthinkable. If he wins, the establishment GOP will stand up and take notice. No one could imagine such an established long-term GOP Senator would be voted out in a primary election.
Had I been at the airport with Bob that day, I too would have thanked Mr. Lugar for his service.
And I would have kept my decision to vote against him to myself. Why ruin the man's 80th birthday?
So long Dick. With all due respect....it's time.
As he was approaching the gate, he recognized an aging man heading the same direction. He walked over to the man and shook his hand and thanked him for his service. The man smiled and looked grateful for the acknowledgement.
It was the old guy's 80th birthday and he was likely wondering whether people still recognize and respect his tenure. He served three years in the Navy when he was young. But for the last 45 years he has been an elected official serving the state of Indiana.
Richard Lugar was elected to the United States Senate in 1976 where he continues to this day. Senator Lugar has few adversaries, on either side of the aisle. He's the third most senior member of the Senate and the ranking member of Committee on Foreign Relations. There were many elections that the Democrats didn't even bother to run a candidate against him because he's been virtually guaranteed a Senate seat, much like the late Teddy Kennedy.
Earlier this year, the Marion County Board of Elections determined that since Lugar had not resided in Indiana for the past 35 years he was ineligible to vote in the state. They finally ruled, however, that he would be allowed to re-register using his Indiana farm address, a place he never actually lived.
Those that vilified the TEA Party, claiming they were radical extremists and accused of all kinds of racist ideals are the same ones who glorify the Occupy Wall Street crowd who demands free everything. They also claim that the TEA party faded into the background, accomplishing nothing.
Except that we didn't fade into the background. And we only believed in less government intrusion, less out of control spending and no more business-as-usual in Washington.
Business as usual. To the TEA Party, that means voting for bailouts, voting for liberal Supreme Court Justices, voting for allowing illegal aliens citizenship, not voting for amendments to prevent taxpayer money from funding abortions and not voting for a ban to earmarks. Put a checkmark behind each of those that Senator Lugar supported.
This TEA Party that was supposedly faded into nothingness, found a GOP candidate to challenge Senator Lugar in a primary election. This hasn't been considered for years. And up until a couple months ago, a candidate running against Lugar was considered to have been a joke.
But today it appears that Lugar's guaranteed seat in the Senate may very well not have his name permanently engraved any longer.
The ads running against Lugar's opponent, Richard Mourdock would leave one with the idea that he is not much better than a crook. But an analysis of the truth of the claims against him have proven the ads are in fact a lie. Even Factcheck.org cites the ads as blatantly false and misleading.
Some of the latest polls show Lugar trailing by 5 points.
Today I visited the county courthouse since I will be out of town on primary election day next Tuesday.
For the first time in my voting history, I cast my ballot against Richard Lugar.
When we say we no longer want business as usual in DC, we MEAN it. Even if it feels a little like kicking Grandpa to the curb, we mean it.
I will continue to have respect for Indiana's statesman, but he has become so ingrained into the Washington culture that he no longer holds my political viewpoint.
Respect for his service no longer means voting for someone who does not represent my values.
We'll see next Tuesday if Richard Mourdock pulls off the unthinkable. If he wins, the establishment GOP will stand up and take notice. No one could imagine such an established long-term GOP Senator would be voted out in a primary election.
Had I been at the airport with Bob that day, I too would have thanked Mr. Lugar for his service.
And I would have kept my decision to vote against him to myself. Why ruin the man's 80th birthday?
So long Dick. With all due respect....it's time.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
No Peace for Hoosiers
In the not too distant past, Indiana used to be known for its basketball. Small town high school Milan won the state championship against all the big schools back in 1954, which was the inspiration of the hit movie Hoosiers.
My mother's hometown of two thousand was a force to be reckoned with back in the mid to late 70's when her cousin coach took the team to the state finals twice, once winning runner up. He coached his team to the finals against the state's largest schools. The good people of Loogootee, Indiana adore the move Hoosiers since they can relate to the David and Goliath theme.
Fans were fanatical. Including my mother who would nearly beat us kids to death in her excitement when the games would be on the radio.
This small town high school basketball coach continues to hold the title of the most winningest high school basketball coach in the state. His game was called, "Stall Ball" or Butcher Ball.
Time stopped when Indiana's high school basketball sectionals began and it only started again once a State Champion was crowned.
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The Indiana Pacers spent several years at the top of their game when Reggie Miller played shooting guard. He fueled the passions of this basketball crazed state bringing the Pacers front and center of the national spotlight.
His 57 point game still stands today in the Pacer records, but that paled in comparison to 1995, when during the last 8.9 seconds of game 1 of the Eastern Conference Semifinals against the Knicks, he scored a jaw dropping EIGHT points. That was 8 points in 8.9 SECONDS, not minutes. He single-handedly won the game to the dismay of Miller's long time public enemy, Spike Lee.
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But then basketball changed. And so did Indiana's obsession.
It started back in the 1997-98 season, when it was decided that it wasn't fair that smaller schools have to battle against the odds to win a championship. So high school basketball was divided into classes.
The term "Class Basketball" is largely uttered with a sneer on one's face here. Instead of generating a feeling of equality, it's better known for taking the hysteria out of Hoosier Hysteria.
The state championship is, for the most part a ho-hum event. The exception was this year when my mother's home town FINALLY snatched up a win when they were barely on the radar screen for rankings. But it leaves one wondering if they could have also "gone all the way" and beaten the other classes.
This picture captured several of my family members at this year's state championship when Loogootee won it's first state championships. This give me hope the spark isn't dead yet.
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The next death knell came with the Pacer's reputation. Indiana's small town, home town hero, Larry Bird returned to his native Hoosier roots becoming the Pacer's coach for three years and now as it's president. Although he led to the team to a franchise win record, he is better known locally for allowing the reputation of the players to deterioriate.
The last several years the Pacers have become VERY well known locally for their shooting skills.
Not their basketball shooting skills, but their shoot OUTS at the local strip clubs. It seemed that nearly every week there was some story about the Pacers being involved in late night shoot outs in the strip clubs parking lots.
In 2004, a HUGE brawl erupted during a game between the Pacers and the Detroit Pistons fans. Three Indiana Pacers entered the stands and began a dangerous altercation. The three were immediately suspended. The next day, the NBA suspended Forward Ron Artest for the remaining season, 86 games. An NBA record he continues to hold this day.
While the Pacers developed their reputation of thugs, we watched Peyton Manning, Tony Dungy turn Indiana's hysteria to football.
The next season Artest asked for a transfer from the Pacers.
The people of Indiana were more than happy to be rid of him. But the bad behavior of the Pacer players didn't stop.
Then retired Reggie Miller took Bird to task during an interview, shaming him that he allowed his players enough free time that they could manage to spend half their nights at strip clubs and bar room brawls.
It will take years to repair the damage exacted upon Hoosier Hysteria.
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Which (FINALLY) leads me to the whole point of this post.
Three days ago Metta World Peace, the Laker's Forward delivered an unbelievably nasty elbow to the head of Oklahoma's James Harden, leaving him with a concussion.
As long as the professional sports teams condone this type of behavior they can no longer expect to get throngs of fans rushing the doors to get to their precious season tickets.
There's a reason our state convicted and imprisoned boxer Mike Tyson when he raped a young girl in his hotel room in downtown Indianapolis
We don't tolerate this behavior.
I'm sick of hearing stories of the thugs in the professional world of basketball.
My mother's hometown of two thousand was a force to be reckoned with back in the mid to late 70's when her cousin coach took the team to the state finals twice, once winning runner up. He coached his team to the finals against the state's largest schools. The good people of Loogootee, Indiana adore the move Hoosiers since they can relate to the David and Goliath theme.
Fans were fanatical. Including my mother who would nearly beat us kids to death in her excitement when the games would be on the radio.
This small town high school basketball coach continues to hold the title of the most winningest high school basketball coach in the state. His game was called, "Stall Ball" or Butcher Ball.
Time stopped when Indiana's high school basketball sectionals began and it only started again once a State Champion was crowned.
_______________________________________________________________
The Indiana Pacers spent several years at the top of their game when Reggie Miller played shooting guard. He fueled the passions of this basketball crazed state bringing the Pacers front and center of the national spotlight.
His 57 point game still stands today in the Pacer records, but that paled in comparison to 1995, when during the last 8.9 seconds of game 1 of the Eastern Conference Semifinals against the Knicks, he scored a jaw dropping EIGHT points. That was 8 points in 8.9 SECONDS, not minutes. He single-handedly won the game to the dismay of Miller's long time public enemy, Spike Lee.
 |
| Miller taunting director Spike Lee during a game in which Miller was forcing the NY Knicks to choke. |
But then basketball changed. And so did Indiana's obsession.
It started back in the 1997-98 season, when it was decided that it wasn't fair that smaller schools have to battle against the odds to win a championship. So high school basketball was divided into classes.
The term "Class Basketball" is largely uttered with a sneer on one's face here. Instead of generating a feeling of equality, it's better known for taking the hysteria out of Hoosier Hysteria.
The state championship is, for the most part a ho-hum event. The exception was this year when my mother's home town FINALLY snatched up a win when they were barely on the radar screen for rankings. But it leaves one wondering if they could have also "gone all the way" and beaten the other classes.
This picture captured several of my family members at this year's state championship when Loogootee won it's first state championships. This give me hope the spark isn't dead yet.
________________________________________________________________
The next death knell came with the Pacer's reputation. Indiana's small town, home town hero, Larry Bird returned to his native Hoosier roots becoming the Pacer's coach for three years and now as it's president. Although he led to the team to a franchise win record, he is better known locally for allowing the reputation of the players to deterioriate.
The last several years the Pacers have become VERY well known locally for their shooting skills.
Not their basketball shooting skills, but their shoot OUTS at the local strip clubs. It seemed that nearly every week there was some story about the Pacers being involved in late night shoot outs in the strip clubs parking lots.
In 2004, a HUGE brawl erupted during a game between the Pacers and the Detroit Pistons fans. Three Indiana Pacers entered the stands and began a dangerous altercation. The three were immediately suspended. The next day, the NBA suspended Forward Ron Artest for the remaining season, 86 games. An NBA record he continues to hold this day.
While the Pacers developed their reputation of thugs, we watched Peyton Manning, Tony Dungy turn Indiana's hysteria to football.
The next season Artest asked for a transfer from the Pacers.
The people of Indiana were more than happy to be rid of him. But the bad behavior of the Pacer players didn't stop.
Then retired Reggie Miller took Bird to task during an interview, shaming him that he allowed his players enough free time that they could manage to spend half their nights at strip clubs and bar room brawls.
It will take years to repair the damage exacted upon Hoosier Hysteria.
___________________________________________________
Which (FINALLY) leads me to the whole point of this post.
Three days ago Metta World Peace, the Laker's Forward delivered an unbelievably nasty elbow to the head of Oklahoma's James Harden, leaving him with a concussion.
Yesterday the NBA announced Metta World Peace would be suspended seven games.
Seven games.
Mr. Metta World Peace is well known here in this unenthusiastic basketball state. He is none other than the former Pacer Ron Artest. I'm shaking my head at the sick irony of his new legally changed name.
As long as the professional sports teams condone this type of behavior they can no longer expect to get throngs of fans rushing the doors to get to their precious season tickets.
There's a reason our state convicted and imprisoned boxer Mike Tyson when he raped a young girl in his hotel room in downtown Indianapolis
We don't tolerate this behavior.
I'm sick of hearing stories of the thugs in the professional world of basketball.
Hey NBA!!! Are you LISTENING????
Monday, April 23, 2012
This is a Public Service Announcement
Found this out over at Z's and then checked it out and discovered that there are several articles about the issue including PC World, CNET and other various sources. I'm very cynical on these things, but all the publications about it convinced me it's true.
Although it seems the dates may change, there is some type of malware that can affect your ability to access the internet. It sounds like another internet hoax, but apparently this one is not.
Long story short, you can check your pc with this link. Green means go. You're good.
Although it seems the dates may change, there is some type of malware that can affect your ability to access the internet. It sounds like another internet hoax, but apparently this one is not.
Long story short, you can check your pc with this link. Green means go. You're good.
Not really sure how widespread the issue might be, but better safe than off line.
Yes, I realize this probably really doesn't count as a real post, but I'm still adjusting to thinking all day long at work. Gotta get my balance back between work and blogging.
Yes, I realize this probably really doesn't count as a real post, but I'm still adjusting to thinking all day long at work. Gotta get my balance back between work and blogging.
Friday, April 20, 2012
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
This Week in Indy
No. Nothing special.
On my 5th week of working back downtown for a new client.
This morning started off with me waving the parking garage key card at the sensor 5 or 47 times to make the arm go up. I went in later than I normally do, so I had to park on the 4th floor. Grabbed my purse and walked down the stairs while finding the key card to the outside office door in my purse.
Use the key card through the access door. Up in the elevator and use a normal door key in the office door which is kept locked. While dropping them back in my purse, I keep reminding myself to put them both on a key chain so I don't have to hunt them down. Turn on the computer and realize I left a notebook with some folders in it in my car.
Dang it.
Get the door key and the door keycard back out of my purse and put them and my cell phone in my jacket.
Back through the office door, down the elevator, out the set of double doors. Since my back and hip are acting up again after the last Nazi-discovered selective nerve shot in my spine, I have to wait for the elevator instead of climbing the four flights. Get out of the elevator and....
Dammit.
I forgot to get my car keys out of my purse.
Back down the garage stairs, swipe my outside door key card, ride the office elevator up to my floor, use the door key to open, grab my car keys and back out the office door, down the office elevator, push through the outside office doors, walk back to the parking garage and wait for the elevator again.
Up the elevator, hit the button on the door of my car to unlock, grab my notebook and folders, lock the car and head back down the steps.
Every time I reach the third floor landing I'm reminded of early last week when there were two separate piles of what I want to believe to be something that comes out of a dog's tail end. But I don't know why a dog would go up three flights of stairs to take a crap. And it's really unpleasant when I realize that was the same location I happened upon a homeless guy walking back to his wheelchair on that same floor the day before the first pile of excrement appeared.
Well, this is not the place I thought this post would end up. But there ya go.
It's been cold here this week. Well, cold is a relative term. It's more likely average for this time of year here, but our extremely mild winter, coupled with a warm to very warm February and March and never a huge cold snap has left us feeling like we are in late May.
The wind has been whipping between the buildings downtown this week. If I was Sally Fields I could have taken flight.
Yesterday I was not happy with Buca di beppo. Not only did they remove the fabulous chicken saltimbucco from their lunch menu, the price of getting a lasagna and a side salad for lunch was an arm and a leg. If they would have just taken a leg, I would have considered giving them my left one if it finally rid me of this nasty hip spasms I've had now for a year. They probably thought naming their daily special after me would prevent them from losing a customer. In your dreams Buca.
Yesterday I fired off another nasty email to Safeco. They insured my friend's SUV under uninsured motorist and their service level would have to go up a dozen levels to reach abysmal. Late at night when I'm trying to smash their heads in vice clamps in my dreams I like to imagine they spend eternity under the needle of a selective nerve injection by Josef Mengele.
Other than that, I'm loving the new gig. Back to the good kind of stress.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Money and Dogs
Too busy to write because I would have to think and my thinker's about empty. Somewhere along the way about a month ago this place hit 10k visitors. Of course 9,990 of those hits were me.
The idiots of Occupy Wall Street have officially blown through $700,000 of the donated union money. Can you imagine how this socialist thing would work out for them?
I didn't win the Mega Million in case you were wondering. Did you?
Anyway, this made me smile last night. Doubt even dog haters wouldn't love this one.
The idiots of Occupy Wall Street have officially blown through $700,000 of the donated union money. Can you imagine how this socialist thing would work out for them?
I didn't win the Mega Million in case you were wondering. Did you?
Anyway, this made me smile last night. Doubt even dog haters wouldn't love this one.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Save Your Tokens for the Video Games
Several years back, I worked in a project department of Bank One. I can say that because Bank One was devoured by another bank, which was devoured by another, and so on and so on and so on.
Our department was headed by a SVP who reported to an EVP.
Meanwhile, back in our department I worked with a lady I'll refer to as Dorothy. Dorothy was a VP in our department. As an AVP, she outranked me but we reported to the same SVP. Dorothy was a black lady just a few years older than me. She was amazingly smart, very professional and fun to work with. And yes, I realize that nearly everyone but tellers had "Vice President" in their title in one way or another whether they deserved it or not.
In our department we travelled about one week every month. This was back in the good old banking days, which meant traveling included dining at great restaurants, ordering appetizers, dinner, desserts and perhaps more than a few "adult" beverages. As a group we all got to be good friends and enjoyed working together.
One night we were discussing the reputation of Sandy. Although I had not encountered Sandy yet, it was well known the incompetence of this "executive".
Dorothy related to me one meeting where our department SVP was at a standstill over a pretty contentious issue in a meeting with another SVP. Quite frankly our SVP was an idiot and his peer was the one on the right side of the issue. During the meeting, both guys realized they were not going to come to an agreement so it was up to Sandy to make an executive decision.
They turned to her and said, "Sandy, apparently this is your call."
Wanna know Sandy's response?
In a high-school cheerleader tone she said, "Gee guys, why do you leave all the hard decisions up to me?"
There were several other stories that made it all the way down the ranks of Sandy's lack of professionalism and competence. That included a "Fairwell" meeting involving one of her direct reports, Sam. Sam stood about 5'5". He was a guy in his late 30's at the time and was incredibly brilliant. Sam was seeing the writing on the wall that Bank One was about to take a hard hit. At the same time, he had a lot of connections with some people with significant cash. He was leaving the company to start his own. A company I joined less than a year later.
Apparently during the fairwell meeting, Sandy came up behind a much shorter Sam and placed her hands upon his shoulders and said to the crowd of several hundred, "This little man will be missed at Bank One." It's a testament to Sam that he didn't turn around and slug her.
I finally got the "pleasure" of seeing Sandy in action one day during a meeting in an audience held in a large facility in a hotel. She spoke for about 20 minutes. I have never been so embarrased to be a female in my life.
It was like being in a business audience where an average looking Suzanne Somers addressed the crowd.
I spent the entire meeting in a facepalmed position wondering why Bank One would have such a dingbat among it's top executives.
I knew the answer. They needed a token woman at the top.
I still wonder why they would pick such an idiot when they could have promoted someone like Dorothy, a very intelligent black woman who would actually know how to manage such a large group of people and would have added to the intellect of the Board Meetings.
Promotions should be based on the best candidates. Hiring should be based on the best candidate. Women are not so incompetent that they need to be promoted solely based upon their gender.
That mindset is offensive to competent women. Thankfully, Sandy was the only example in my entire career that fits that token model. I hope she's enjoying her not-deserved well financed retirement by now. I'd hate to think she's still working providing a shining example of why token hiring and promotions should not be practiced.
Our department was headed by a SVP who reported to an EVP.
The Executive Vice President was a woman I'll call Sandy, who worked in the executive offices in Columbus, Ohio. She "managed" several departments for Bank One which probably employed several thousand people. She had direct access to Bank One's Board of Directors and reported to the CEO. This was not an insignificant position. At that point I believe Bank One employed approximately 80K people. Sandy probably managed over 10% of that number.
Meanwhile, back in our department I worked with a lady I'll refer to as Dorothy. Dorothy was a VP in our department. As an AVP, she outranked me but we reported to the same SVP. Dorothy was a black lady just a few years older than me. She was amazingly smart, very professional and fun to work with. And yes, I realize that nearly everyone but tellers had "Vice President" in their title in one way or another whether they deserved it or not.
In our department we travelled about one week every month. This was back in the good old banking days, which meant traveling included dining at great restaurants, ordering appetizers, dinner, desserts and perhaps more than a few "adult" beverages. As a group we all got to be good friends and enjoyed working together.
One night we were discussing the reputation of Sandy. Although I had not encountered Sandy yet, it was well known the incompetence of this "executive".
Dorothy related to me one meeting where our department SVP was at a standstill over a pretty contentious issue in a meeting with another SVP. Quite frankly our SVP was an idiot and his peer was the one on the right side of the issue. During the meeting, both guys realized they were not going to come to an agreement so it was up to Sandy to make an executive decision.
They turned to her and said, "Sandy, apparently this is your call."
Wanna know Sandy's response?
In a high-school cheerleader tone she said, "Gee guys, why do you leave all the hard decisions up to me?"
There were several other stories that made it all the way down the ranks of Sandy's lack of professionalism and competence. That included a "Fairwell" meeting involving one of her direct reports, Sam. Sam stood about 5'5". He was a guy in his late 30's at the time and was incredibly brilliant. Sam was seeing the writing on the wall that Bank One was about to take a hard hit. At the same time, he had a lot of connections with some people with significant cash. He was leaving the company to start his own. A company I joined less than a year later.
Apparently during the fairwell meeting, Sandy came up behind a much shorter Sam and placed her hands upon his shoulders and said to the crowd of several hundred, "This little man will be missed at Bank One." It's a testament to Sam that he didn't turn around and slug her.
I finally got the "pleasure" of seeing Sandy in action one day during a meeting in an audience held in a large facility in a hotel. She spoke for about 20 minutes. I have never been so embarrased to be a female in my life.
It was like being in a business audience where an average looking Suzanne Somers addressed the crowd.
I spent the entire meeting in a facepalmed position wondering why Bank One would have such a dingbat among it's top executives.
I knew the answer. They needed a token woman at the top.
I still wonder why they would pick such an idiot when they could have promoted someone like Dorothy, a very intelligent black woman who would actually know how to manage such a large group of people and would have added to the intellect of the Board Meetings.
Promotions should be based on the best candidates. Hiring should be based on the best candidate. Women are not so incompetent that they need to be promoted solely based upon their gender.
That mindset is offensive to competent women. Thankfully, Sandy was the only example in my entire career that fits that token model. I hope she's enjoying her not-deserved well financed retirement by now. I'd hate to think she's still working providing a shining example of why token hiring and promotions should not be practiced.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
And Today in Indiana
Ok, I'll go with another nothing post about my day.
All's quiet in the office of my new gig in the mornings. I consider 8:00 am late, but the office doesn't show much signs of life until 9 or later.
It's been so warm here that it feels like late April. I was thinking I might run to the nursery to plant some annuals and had to remind myself it's only mid-March.
My sister was released from the hospital on Tuesday and the next day they rush Bob's sister's husband in suspecting a heart attack. No heart attack, but blockage. Had 80% blockage in the back, so they "installed" another stint. He's out and okay.
Semi blew a tire early this morning on the interstate I travel to work. The interstate is divided and he was traveling in the opposite direction I would take. But the poor guy skidded along a huge length of guard rail and then rammed into the base of one of the big pretty overhead signs Indy installed because of all the Super Bowl traffic. Upon hitting the overhead posts, this is what happened.
Thankfully the trucker was able to escape, but he's in Wishard with 2nd and 3rd degree burns.
Since the fire was so bad, it shut down the interstate going my direction also. By the time I was heading into town, my side was open but it was clearly backed up, so I took a different route.
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All's quiet in the office of my new gig in the mornings. I consider 8:00 am late, but the office doesn't show much signs of life until 9 or later.
I started the new gig on Tuesday with a 6 hour conference call that they let me take at home. Sweet.
It's a small office and unlike the last place where I just could not understand a culture where no one talked to one another at all, this one is my kinda place.
Lots of friendly people, comfortable. It's a little bit of old school in that several people have offices with doors, including me. Let's see, it's been 15 years since I've had an office with a door. I've long gotten over the office with door ego thing, so it feels a bit weird to me.
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| OK, this is not my picture nor my office. |
Officially I am the "User Coordinator". I know. I don't know what that means either. What I do know is that the Statement of Work (SOW) that vaguely outlines what I am to do lets me put on every work hat that I've done in my entire 35 years of working. Yes, I started working at the age of 2.
Hilariously enough the contract says I'm to work 24 hours a week and then less in a couple months. When I first heard that, I thought that the pt work may be okay because a brilliant former CIO I worked for is wanting to start a company and have me help him.
But the massive amount of work needed that I can do would never get down in those hours or the ending time frame and the CFO indicated that in the interview. I told the guy yesterday to let me know when he wanted to drop my hours to 24 and he laughed. Said he knew that's a long way off, if ever and that he's budgeted for me and a lot more.
I know I've been dropped into the middle of the Atlantic with no life preserver, but I'm excited because I've been there before and paddled my way back to shore.
And although I was beginning to enjoy life as a bum and getting a huge tax refund instead of a huge tax bill, I'm so pumped about the position.
Let's hope the economy doesn't bite me again like in 2011. While I would like to have the stability of a "real" job (not that there is any stability anywhere), this gig is making me remember why I like contracting. Most of them are challenging instead of boring and it's nice not having some boss tell you that you haven't earned any vacation hours.
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The St. Paddy's Day parade came through downtown again. I grabbed a quick bite after walking past the start of the parade downtown. I sat on the circle steps and enjoyed the great 80 degree weather. Back downtown again but now all the construction is gone since last time I was there they had nearly every street corner under construction in prep for the Super Bowl.
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As I sat on the steps of Monument Circle, I heard this duck quacking behind me. Quack, quack quack. I turned and saw a young father with his two girls. The baby, probably two or so had shoes that quacked. She was a cutie. So were the quackers. When I left the circle, I saw a woman with BRIGHT green hair. I almost asked her if I could take her picture, but I didn't. Sorry.
Wait, I did take a picture of the first magnolia tree that was blooming.
And this is from the start of my sidewalk.
It's been so warm here that it feels like late April. I was thinking I might run to the nursery to plant some annuals and had to remind myself it's only mid-March.
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While heading toward the parade route I saw two guys and a lady who obviously worked together coming toward me. The lady was carrying her purse, one of the young guys was carrying a bag that looked nothing like a laptop bag, but much more like a large lady's purse. I saw the girl making fun of him and they were all joking with him about his manbag. They were heading toward me and she was trying to get a few guys from a restaurant outside to join in about the bag.
As I came toward them, I said, "That looks great." The lady heard me as I passed and cracked up. She made her man-purse buddy turn around as she pointed at me. I turned back and gave him a thumbs up. That was fun.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
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As I traveled home, the interstate was open, but traffic was stop and go as soon as I got on. I got off the first exit and took not a great route home. I knew I was low on gas, but the "Miles Until Empty" dropped from 32 to - - -. The route between here and there is not the best part of town. I found the next gas station and got out to fill 'er up. The tank on my car is on the passenger side, which bugs me even in the best part of town. Since I don't have to use my keys, only have them in my purse to unlock or start the car, I didn't want to have to dig through my purse to find them and I didn't want to hold onto my purse while pumping gas. As I got out an average dressed young white guy came around the back of my car. Instead of going straight to the pump, I waited by the driver's door until he was passed my car. Since I had my pursse and the keys in it, I knew all anyone would have to do is jump in. It was only about 5 p.m. and if I had been in my part of town, I wouldn't have thought a thing of this guy, but it's all about location, location, location.
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This was the first morning in close to a year that I woke up and realized I had been able to sleep all night on my stomach. Since the rear-end collision last April 1st, I've spent at least half of every night on my side with a pillow between my legs. So either that second "selective nerve injection" in my back last Friday or the new medication that they gave me that is supposed to be for shingles patients is working. The shingles med blocks nerves from sending stupid messages to your brain that you are in pain, when you shouldn't be.
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My sister's heart cath came back clean, so she's in good shape. May be due to a cyst on her adrenal gland, which they need to deal with, but that was some good news on Tuesday.
____________________________________________________________
My sister was released from the hospital on Tuesday and the next day they rush Bob's sister's husband in suspecting a heart attack. No heart attack, but blockage. Had 80% blockage in the back, so they "installed" another stint. He's out and okay.
____________________________________________________________
Had some online liberal imply that since I was a conservative, that I have Rush Limbaugh tell me what to think. Since I don't listen to Rush and think he's an idiot for what he said, then I was an idiot because I didn't know who the "official" head of the GOP was. No amount of explaining to these people that I am perfectly capable of deciding on my own my social, economical and global security beliefs are gets through their thick heads that I just might be a bit smarter than they think.. I kinda get a kick out of people who assume I'm an idiot because I believe differently than they do. It's like letting a kid beat you at Hi Ho Cherry O. It makes them feel good to reinforce their stupidity.
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Toward the end of my workday today, I had a lady come see me, shut my OFFICE DOOR and then proceeded to tell me the scoop. The great part is that the guy that hired me is dead-on blunt and told me nearly everything.
I found she had been in banking nearly 30 years before this job and she knew one of my oldest friends. We spent an hour talking about all the people we caught stealing money from the banks.
She has a personality a lot like mine. We're nice people, but we don't pull punches when we need to. Love her. Love the job. It will have lots of headaches, but not because of the people.
Ahhhhhhh. What a nice relief.
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This post is boring I know, but Bob's heard it all and I needed to talk. And I realize it covers more than just today, contrary to the title.
Maybe more pictures would have helped. Deal with it.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Now That's Gonna Leave a Mark
No explanations needed.
And saving the best for last....
And O/T....
Would "YOU" people quit coming here from googling, "did Giada de laurentus make a sex tape?" The amount of traffic I get from Giada fetish people is more than a little irritating. I had fun time writing a post about Giada and Roker and all I get are visits from sex-craved men looking for porn pictures of Giada.
Sorry to disappoint ya. Ha. Running total of Giada googles since this post:1, 2, 4,7,11,14, 16, 18, 21, 26, 27, 29, 33, 35, 45, 64, 67, 8,598.
And saving the best for last....
And O/T....
Would "YOU" people quit coming here from googling, "did Giada de laurentus make a sex tape?" The amount of traffic I get from Giada fetish people is more than a little irritating. I had fun time writing a post about Giada and Roker and all I get are visits from sex-craved men looking for porn pictures of Giada.
Sorry to disappoint ya. Ha. Running total of Giada googles since this post:
Saturday, March 10, 2012
My Rambling Other News for the Week.
Phillips Corporation won the Energy Department's "L" $10MM prize for an environmentally sensitive bulb that is affordable for American families.
For the low low price of $49.95 per bulb, you can Buy one here !
I didn't realize that the Energy Department's "L" prize stood for LOSER.
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Speaking of which. Bang Bang, Out Go the Lights.....for the town of Indianapolis.
Still rocking from the sad news of losing Peyton Manning, yesterday they announced five more strategic well known, great players cut from the roster.
By now you should know that I don't idolize rock stars, movie stars or even sports stars. But the amazing amount of charity work these six men brought to our town and throughout the US was something to be admired. Several years ago, Peyton donated $70 MILLION to the local children's hospital. I researched it. That was an entire year's worth of endorsement money he earns/ed. And that was just one charity. He's started numerous other kid's camps and special organizations, Indy might eventually have another great quarterback, but I doubt they will find one that puts his money where his mouth is.
Gary Brackett was also cut. He started a charity for kid's that need bone marrow transplants after his little brother died many years ago.
I don't think these men will simply abandon their charities because they are no longer Colts players, but I guarantee you, Indy would not have turned into a football town had the Colts just been a winning team. It was the goodness of the former coach Tony Dungy and players like Peyton that made us proud.
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The world is not coming to an end.
At least Harold Camping has finally come to the conclusion that maybe he just doesn't have that direct line to God to know the date or hour of the end. If the idiot had ever picked up a Bible and actually read it, he might have realized that only God, the Father knows the date and time. Even the Son of God does not know, but apparently Camping thought he was more entitled to know the end times over Jesus.
Hard to imagine why too many people think that we Christians are morons when idiots like this get media attention, isn't it?
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Tonight we have to spring forward. This is still not popular in our state as we've spent many, many years never switching our time, but floated between being in Eastern Time and Central Time. Now we remain on ET, but this leaves our summer nights not being night until well after 10 p.m. I hate it.
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Imagine working for 39 years for the same company. You're 64 and started withdrawing from your IRA (not your company pension, not your company 401k) a couple years ago to supplement your semi-retirement wages from the company when you turned 62.
Company decides to eliminate this full time position.
For close to 45 years you have paid into FUTA and SUTA, that's Federal Unemployment Tax and State Unemployment tax. Those taxes were coming out of your wages in the event you were laid off.
So, you hop on down to the unemployment office thinking that you are entitled to recover maybe just a bit of the years of taxes you paid in in this event and have never collected before in your life.
WRONG.
Dollar for dollar, your unemployment benefit is reduced by the amount that you withdraw from your personal IRA, even though you were earning those wages while withdrawing the IRA for two years. It's not coming from the company pension or the company IRA, it's coming from your personal IRA.
Chalk up another person not counted in that wonderful unemployment number.
But you can win the lottery and still receive food stamps.
What a great country we live in.
__________________________________________________________
Yesterday was my third time since January in receiving one of these.
I would describe it like being tortured for ten minutes hoping for a week's relief of hip and back pain and spasms.
I pray that this one lasts a while.
___________________________________________________________
I want EVERYONE to quit talking about contraception, dammit. It's about FREEDOM OF RELIGION.
I'm not making claims as to whether the picture on the right has been altered. It might be real, it might not but I really don't care.
And just for publishing the actual truth of Fluke's lies about birth control costing $3,000 a year and was affecting her poor friend's health, I just priced a birth control pill at the Walgreen's 1.5 miles from Georgetown University.
Annual cost $276.90. Perhaps Mzzz Fluke mistakenly added a decimal point.
Is there a crime against lying while testifying to a Congressional circus meeting?
________________________________________________________
Tonight I'd appreciate a few prayers if ya got em. My sister is in critical care. They've ruled out heart attack, but now say she has a blod clot. Last word was they haven't traced where the clot is located.
There's a theory going around the family that's she's trying to steal CnC's limelight. He's been the king of the heart issues for a couple years now, not to mention his other mayhem he manages to conjure up.
________________________________________________________
Enough for the other news this week. I'm exhausted.
For the low low price of $49.95 per bulb, you can Buy one here !
I didn't realize that the Energy Department's "L" prize stood for LOSER.
___________________________________________________________
Still rocking from the sad news of losing Peyton Manning, yesterday they announced five more strategic well known, great players cut from the roster.
By now you should know that I don't idolize rock stars, movie stars or even sports stars. But the amazing amount of charity work these six men brought to our town and throughout the US was something to be admired. Several years ago, Peyton donated $70 MILLION to the local children's hospital. I researched it. That was an entire year's worth of endorsement money he earns/ed. And that was just one charity. He's started numerous other kid's camps and special organizations, Indy might eventually have another great quarterback, but I doubt they will find one that puts his money where his mouth is.
Gary Brackett was also cut. He started a charity for kid's that need bone marrow transplants after his little brother died many years ago.
I don't think these men will simply abandon their charities because they are no longer Colts players, but I guarantee you, Indy would not have turned into a football town had the Colts just been a winning team. It was the goodness of the former coach Tony Dungy and players like Peyton that made us proud.
Last night Charles Krathammer opined that Peyton would go to Miami and become the Number Two man on the Republican Presidential ticket. Fred Barnes added that Manning could get win a state political election in Indiana, Louisiana or Tennesee.
I know that Manning is not stupid enough to enter the gladiator arena of politics. But oh, how one could only dream.
__________________________________________________________
The world is not coming to an end.
At least Harold Camping has finally come to the conclusion that maybe he just doesn't have that direct line to God to know the date or hour of the end. If the idiot had ever picked up a Bible and actually read it, he might have realized that only God, the Father knows the date and time. Even the Son of God does not know, but apparently Camping thought he was more entitled to know the end times over Jesus.
Hard to imagine why too many people think that we Christians are morons when idiots like this get media attention, isn't it?
_____________________________________________________________
Tonight we have to spring forward. This is still not popular in our state as we've spent many, many years never switching our time, but floated between being in Eastern Time and Central Time. Now we remain on ET, but this leaves our summer nights not being night until well after 10 p.m. I hate it.
Imagine working for 39 years for the same company. You're 64 and started withdrawing from your IRA (not your company pension, not your company 401k) a couple years ago to supplement your semi-retirement wages from the company when you turned 62.
Company decides to eliminate this full time position.
For close to 45 years you have paid into FUTA and SUTA, that's Federal Unemployment Tax and State Unemployment tax. Those taxes were coming out of your wages in the event you were laid off.
So, you hop on down to the unemployment office thinking that you are entitled to recover maybe just a bit of the years of taxes you paid in in this event and have never collected before in your life.
WRONG.
Dollar for dollar, your unemployment benefit is reduced by the amount that you withdraw from your personal IRA, even though you were earning those wages while withdrawing the IRA for two years. It's not coming from the company pension or the company IRA, it's coming from your personal IRA.
Chalk up another person not counted in that wonderful unemployment number.
But you can win the lottery and still receive food stamps.
What a great country we live in.
__________________________________________________________
Yesterday was my third time since January in receiving one of these.
I would describe it like being tortured for ten minutes hoping for a week's relief of hip and back pain and spasms.
I pray that this one lasts a while.
___________________________________________________________
I want EVERYONE to quit talking about contraception, dammit. It's about FREEDOM OF RELIGION.
I'm not making claims as to whether the picture on the right has been altered. It might be real, it might not but I really don't care.
And just for publishing the actual truth of Fluke's lies about birth control costing $3,000 a year and was affecting her poor friend's health, I just priced a birth control pill at the Walgreen's 1.5 miles from Georgetown University.
Annual cost $276.90. Perhaps Mzzz Fluke mistakenly added a decimal point.
Is there a crime against lying while testifying to a Congressional circus meeting?
________________________________________________________
Tonight I'd appreciate a few prayers if ya got em. My sister is in critical care. They've ruled out heart attack, but now say she has a blod clot. Last word was they haven't traced where the clot is located.
There's a theory going around the family that's she's trying to steal CnC's limelight. He's been the king of the heart issues for a couple years now, not to mention his other mayhem he manages to conjure up.
________________________________________________________
Enough for the other news this week. I'm exhausted.
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