Problems

I'm supposed to be doing a few productive things right now, and I'm having problems.  Writer's block, for one.  A desire to have a quick snort, for another.  Tell me, why are mothers so hard to raise?

The Fox on the Fairway at the Toledo Rep

Last Saturday night we went to see The Fox on the Fairway at the The Toledo Repertoire Theatre (16 10th St.; Toledo, OH 43604; (419) 243-9277).  I've always enjoyed live theater much more than film, to the point that even a poorly produced play is more enjoyable than a five star film.

Here is where I hear some theater company saying, "If only there were a few hundred thousand more like you, Mad Jack."  Sure thing, Virginia, and if there were the tickets in the front row at The Rep would be two-and-a-half bills each if you could get them, which you couldn't because the politburo fat heads would threaten the theater with building and fire inspections unless the city council and their inbred friends got the first five rows all to themselves on opening night.

Okay, I'm finished digressing.  Keep reading to learn my considered opinion about foxes, fairways and the latest play.

Martin Luther King Day (2013)

Happy Martin Luther King Day to everyone.  I decided to write a little about Dr. King because I was alive and well during the civil rights era (power to the people! right on!!) and mention a few odd facts guaranteed to drive every Moonbat within five miles into a watermelon dance.  Keep surfing if you have a thin skin.

Catch Up Time

Going back to Thanksgiving of 2012, here are a few highlights I've been too busy to write about.

R.I.P. Centenarian

Last Friday the medical experts who have been involved with Centenarian since October of 2011 predicted that she would be on the wrong side of the lawn by Monday.  I have a good deal more faith in the weatherman than I do these witchdoctors.

Happy New Year 2013!

This is the obligatory Happy New Year post.  So.


Happy New Year.

Christmas Catch Up

I haven't written much since whenever.  I've been busy and the holiday cheer has kept me safely depressed.  Sometime prior to Thanksgiving I discovered a recipe for eggnog that's a sure winner, and that I've published below the fold.  However, be warned.  I don't like Christmas – never did like it and likely never will – and I've included a sententious diatribe about Christmas which contains language and opinions that are unsuitable for children, fragile women and warm, sensitive men.

Keep reading if you're interested, continue to surf if you're not.

Restaurant Review:Grass Skirt Tiki Room

I was visiting Big Mike in Columbus last weekend, and when the clock was headed in the direction of happy hour Mike suggested we go and check out the latest edition to the Columbus restaurant scene: The Grass Skirt Tiki Room. I'm old enough to have experienced several Tiki restaurants and bars, so I was enthusiastically in favor of this selection. Here's what you'll find at the Grass Shack.

A few laughs

I haven't had much to laugh about lately, but that got fixed today.  Here's a couple funny stories for anyone interested.

Train Wreck

The old saying is that when it rains, it pours. I have a somewhat pithy rejoinder to that: Who says this is rain?

Foster Kids

Shotgun Bob and The Girl have acquired a new foster child whom I will name Albert.  This will be their third and very likely their last foster child.  The first foster child, Flounder (a large teenage female), became violent was returned to the system.  The next foster child, Feed Bag (an 8 year old boy with multiple problems involving his digestive tract in its entirety), was returned home to his mother by order of the State of Tennessee.  This is the same mother who tried to strangle him, thus putting Feed Bag into the system.  No, I'm not kidding.  Feed Bag arrived at Shotgun Bob's house with bruises around his neck from his certifiable mother and her methamphetamine dealing boyfriend.  The boyfriend may or may not be in jail, but the mother is now on anti-psychotic medication and therapy which makes her perfectly safe and fit to be a mother.  They say, anyway.  I'm keeping an eye on the Tennessee news.

Latest Centenarian News

I got the call around 11:00 this morning.  It was Main Lady, informing me that they are taking Centenarian off to Hospice.  Since Main Lady does not have both oars in the water, it falls to me, Mad Jack, to bring order out of chaos and catch Hell for doing so, then smile and reply, "Thank you Ma'am, may I have another?"

What else, right?  Well, I'll tell you, but first let me refer everyone to the official cast of characters so you can see who's on first, and let me also state right up front that you don't go to Hospice to get your chops cleaned.

Veteran's Day 2012

My grandfather served in World War I as a radio operator in the U.S. Navy.  Times were rough back then, and I remember him telling me that he didn't have a mattress to sleep on; only a bare board, but he thought it was pretty good.

My father served in World War II and was stationed in the Aleutian Islands on isolated duty.  He was there 18 months, 12 months longer than he was supposed to be in isolation.  By the time he got back the other men said he was beginning to act a little odd.

My Uncle Bud served in World War II with the OSS, helping to organize the French resistance.  He carried his pistol in his hat, and was captured by the Germans several times.  Bud never served time as a prisoner of war.

Another couple who lived in our neighborhood served in Allied Intelligence, and were offered citizenship in the United States for their efforts.  They changed their names when they accepted, and although she would never speak of what happened 'over there', he would tell a few stories now and then.  Not much, but a few.  The thing I remember was that both people were friendly, multilingual and very, very security conscious all their lives.

Realistically, if these people and a lot of others like them hadn't served in the United States armed forces, we wouldn't be bitching about our lousy government today.

Here's my salute to everyone who has served my country, and who is serving now.  My sincere thanks for your service.

I Hate Hamlet at the Toledo Rep

I enjoy the theater, and by that I mean live theater with real people on a real stage in real time.  Even the special effects are real.  I haven't been to the theater in quite a while, so when Main Lady suggested we go take in a play at The Toledo Repertoire Theatre (16 10th Street, Toledo, OH 43604 (419) 243-9277) I was up for it.  I haven't been to The Rep in years and I'd forgotten most of what I knew about the place.

The play I saw is I Hate Hamlet by Paul Rudnick - see also I Hit Hamlet - Behind the scenes at a Broadway fiasco by Paul Rudnick December 24, 2007 if you're insatiably curious.  Keep reading to get my opinion, then decide for yourself if you'd like to attend or stay home in the comfort of your living room with a good bottle of bourbon.

Cop Shooting - (ex) Officer Thomas White is Still Free

I've written about this case before, but until recently I haven't seen any news about the case.  Then I found something in The Toledo Blade the other day.

On May 23, 2009 in an act of cowardice, Ottawa Hills police officer Thomas White shot motorcyclist Michael McCloskey in the back, paralyzing him from the waist down.  Thomas White is completely unrepentant, as would be expected of any gang member shooting an innocent victim.  The victim shouldn't have been there, and that's all.

Hurricane Sandy

I've been in a hurricane before.  I actually went down to the beach to see what was up, and having seen what was what I returned to my apartment.  When I got up the next morning it was all over.  But, you see, that was in Jacksonville, Florida where people do not obey the State government's directives to evacuate.  Instead, they ride it out and then put up signs: You Loot, We Shoot.

My cousin 88 is in New York.  She's fine, and she's working from home.  I haven't talked to her about the storm news coverage very much, but I did get some second hand information from Uncle Sardonicus and Auntie Annie, who tell me that according to 88 everything's fine.  People are out going to work, no one is using the subway, the end of the world isn't here as yet.  Commercial news media reports train wrecks and ignores normal operation.

Out of all the coverage I've seen of Hurricane Sandy, here's the best graphic.  I have no idea who created this, but I'm giving the unknown artist full credit along with a hat tip and a hoist of the afternoon bourbon glass.

Mom in the ER

Just when things start to smooth out a little and I figure that the worst part of the highway is behind me, a rock grabs the oil pan.

Last Friday Mom complained about feeling dizzy, disoriented and generally weak all over and she hadn't been drinking.  No chest pains were involved, but between short discourses about settling the estate and the mess she'll be leaving me in ten minutes from now, I manage to get a coherent answer about taking a trip to the ER.

Off we go.

Range Report: Shooters of Maumee

Up until recently people in the Toledo metropolitan area had two choices for an indoor pistol range: Cleland's Outdoor World and The Bullet Stop.  That is no longer the case.

I'm happy to report that gun owners have another choice.  Shooters of Maumee is open for business, and the place is excellent.  Keep reading for a curmudgeonly run down on the facts, features and vicious rumors.

Many Happy Returns

I haven't had time or inclination to write much lately.  Mainly inclination.  I find the current political situation distasteful at best, nauseating the rest of the time.  I don't really believe that the election results will change my own situation at all, either immediately or in the future given that the difference between sixteen trillion dollars and thirty-two trillion dollars being purely imaginary, since there isn't that much wealth in the entire nation, even at today's inflated prices.

I failed to have a drink last night and I wanted one, which has thrown my mental state into a vague melancholy of the sort that is normally cured by a shot of the blues accompanied by a double shot of Gentleman Jack.  Red hot naked women are also a big help.

So.  Sixty years ago today at four in the morning my own dear mother woke my father out of a dead slumber to tell him it was time to go to the hospital.  Spurred by the completely untenable thought of Mom giving birth at home with only Dad to assist, the old sot hauled his pants and boots on, got Mom in one hand and her suitcase in the other and stuffed both in the car, then he high-balled it to the local hospital where the family sawbones was summoned by the staff in the emergency room.  Along about five or so I showed up.

Patriot Day

Today is Patriot Day, which should be a Federal holiday and is not.  On this day in 2001 my mom called me at Main Lady's house and told me we should turn the TV on.  We did, and Main Lady didn't get over her shock and sadness for a week.

Hindsight is always (almost always, anyway) 20/20, but in this case I think my criticisms are justified.  The United States of America had just been attacked by a cowardly group of religious fanatics.  Many people were murdered in this attack, and our government did not respond correctly.