Friday, December 30, 2011

Happy New Year to Police, Fire and EMS

I want to wish a special Happy New Year to all the police officers and their support people, the fire department and the EMS people.  Without your efforts we would not have civilization.  Thank you for your time and hard work.

I'm wishing a very special, high priority Happy New Year along with a tip of the old fedora and a hoist of my champagne glass to all the police, fire and EMS people who have to work on New Year's Eve.  I know you have other things you'd rather do, and I know about amateur hour.  Thank you for your time and effort.

Happy New Year!

It's going to be 2012 soon.  A time to reflect on our accomplishments and rehash the happy times of years past, mark the progress we've made on our five year plan and celebrate with careful moderation the arrival  of a new year with new opportunities and challenges...

Pardon me while I refill my glass.

My Blog: I Still Do Not Understand

Back in September I started getting comments from a misguided zealot calling himself covnitkepr1, who insisted that I start following his blog.  Now I've attracted another one who calls himself Steve Finnell and purports to be from the Hoosier State (Indiana).  I've read both blogs and found the same egregious error on each one.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Merry Christmas!

I'm taking time off for good behavior.  I'll be back around the first part of next year, 2012.  In the meantime:

Merry Christmas!
Happy Chanukah!
Happy Kwanza!
Happy Birthday!
Happy  Daze!
Happy Hour!
Last call for alcohol!

Friday, December 23, 2011

Air Travel - Losing My Luggage and My Mind

I've been out of town for a funeral; my Uncle Ballbat passed away and so Mom, Uncle Parsimonious, Aunt Annie and I headed for the mile high city in the great frozen State of Colorado via Delta Airlines and the Detroit Metropolitan Airport, conveniently located a few miles West of downtown Detroit, Michigan.  The fun started right after we loaded all our gear into Unc's car and headed North, and I'm right here to tell you that if I have any more fun I just won't be able to stand it.

Casualties of Time and Effort

It takes time and effort to write, even if you write poorly.  Most bloggers write for their own amusement, self-publishing their Pulitzer quality works at little or no cost and wondering if anyone is reading their literary contributions to the overall quality of civilization as we think it should be.  Eventually the author quits, possibly because he's tired of writing or has gone on the wagon and sobered up, thus wondering just what the hell it was he'd actually be doing all this time.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011


The other day I was wandering around the video store in search of something to rent that would appeal to Main Lady and that I could manage to sit through.  Main Lady's tastes run to Out of Africa (1985)A Passage To India and Rabbit-Proof Fence.  I enjoy The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), The Shining and A Clockwork Orange.  Is there any wonder why it takes me so long to find a suitable DVD?

As I wandered about in my futile quest for the Holy Grail I noted a boy of about 10 pestering his father over film selection.  The precocious little snot wanted to rent an R rated film that incorporated gratuitous sex and violence in conjunction with some poor schmuck in a rubber monster suit.  Dad wasn't buying his offspring's arguments, finally stating that no means no.  I applauded old Dad for his diligence.  Here was one young fellow that was unlikely to clutter the rear seat of a squad car in six years or so. 

Being bored, it occurred to me to wonder just why R rated films were displayed within easy reach of someone who was not allowed to watch them, which is easy: Money, that's why.  Then I wondered just where a patron would go to find a G or PG rated film, how many there were and even if there were any at all.  Back when I was a precocious little snot of ten unbelievably fortunate years we didn't have R rated films, we had the Motion Picture Production Code. We didn't even have DVDs; we had books, some of which could get pretty racy.  I remember this one time when I showed Mom something I found on the book rack...