Life's Little Inconveniences

Finally got a new battery for the garage door opener. That's right, I've actually had to get out of the car and walk over to the keypad and punch a code to open the door, then get back into my car and park. Even in the rain.

Jeez, it was like I was some sort of cave man or something.

Gone Conventioning

Yep, I'm headed out to the desert today to attend the 2007 Conservative Leadership Conference in Reno.

Then I'm going camping with my brother for a week from Tahoe to Death Valley.

Then we're going to swing through Vegas to pick up my son.

Then the three of us are going camping for another week from the Hoover Dam to the Grand Canyon.

Then to Phoenix and a short hop home.

Damn, don't that sound nice?

Maybe I'll start blogging again after I get back.

Then again, maybe not.

Things I've already learned today

1. 5 am is too early for functional human activity.
2. Early morning radio sucks more than morning radio.
3. Keeping at least one eye cracked open while driving to work is a very good idea.
4. Rammstein at full volume cures the above three items.
5. I need new speakers. Again.

Take the Citizenship Challenge

MSNBC presents 20 of the "more difficult" questions that immigrants must answer on a civics test in order to become naturalized citizens. The only one that I missed concerned the name of an INS form (not something a citizen should need to know), though I will admit to taking an educated guess on number 8.

You answered 95% of questions correctly. Here's your rating:

0-20%: Maybe you're still thinking too much about the Old Country.
25-40%: Mmmm. Do you really want to be a citizen? This kind of performance isn't going to impress those nice immigration folks.
45-60%: Not too bad, but you really need to break out the civics books again -- word is, the INS is looking for an 80 percent score.
65-80%: Hey, you may make a good citizen yet! Look at your wrong answers and a little revision should do the trick.
85-100%: Welcome to the United States! (And, truth be told, you know more about this great land than most Americans.)

I believe that last one. Looking over this particular set of questions, I doubt that most Americans could pass. I know I couldn't have before my great political awakening in 2000 as Gore tried to litigate his way to the White House.

Letter to Dr. Daniel Robinson, Oxford University

Dear Dr. Robinson,

I am writing to you to convey my profound thanks to you for having entered into an agreement with The Teaching Company. I have just finished your 60-lecture series, The Great Ideas of Philosophy.

I must admit that I purchased these lectures with more than a little trepidation, as I am a middle-aged American conservative with some distrust of the academic world. But the lure of the subject was too much for me to resist and so I purchased your course.

My fears were groundless as I found you to be thoughtful, thorough and balanced. While your knowledge of philosophy is remarkable, I was more impressed by your perception. My favorite lectures were Justice and Just Wars (I listened to the whole thing twice) and your thoughts in God – Really? (I listened to the final two chapters three times).

I also enjoyed the smattering of dry humor that all too occasionally made their way into your teachings (my favorite, “God could have limited the creation to angels – or beagles, comparably delightful.”)

So thoroughly pleasant was the experience that I look forward with great anticipation to listening to your series, American Ideals: Founding a "Republic of Virtue". Your students are luckier than they can imagine. If this were a just world then you would be more famous than a rock star. You are certainly far more interesting.

With Gratitude and Deep Respect

I urge everyone who commutes, spends a half-hour on the treadmill, or otherwise has a few minutes a day to immediately click over to The Teaching Company. A half-hour lecture is a rewarding way to spend otherwise wasted minutes of the day. The Teaching Company finds the most gifted educators and offers courses on everything from ancient history to particle physics for non-physicists. They even offer courses on fuzzy subjects like art and music.

Go now, there's a bundle of courses currently on sale.

Now you will have to excuse me. On the theory that you cannot understand that which comes later without understanding the origin, I am about to start Introduction to Judaism. See ya.

Waiting Room Musings

Doctors offices. Who doesn't hate them?

This one is new. Fresh carpet shows the footprints of the sickly that have tramped through today. The faux velvet covering on a chair's seat clearly displays a perfect imprint of the previous occupant's butt. Ick. Looks like the occupant was 350 pounds or more.

I wonder, what bizarre illness prompted the unknown waddler to come here? More importantly, what writhing organisms lived in the mucus that no doubt coated his hands as he sat clutching the arm of the chair in his illness-induced haze, waiting his turn?

I decide to remain standing. In my own stuffy-headed haze, I take a look around.

The usual pathetic attempt to cheer up the place consists of a few cheap appliques stuck to the glass of the sliding window behind which the nurses hide, safe from the diseases teeming outside. Brightly colored butterflies of green and purple fly amongst even more bizarrely colored flowers. The butterflies are pasted so that it appears they are fleeing from the center of the glass, as if seeking to escape the flower patch of death. Or perhaps they are preparing to attack, 2 contingents in perfect formation flying off in opposing directions on a mission of dire consequence, belying their cutesy appearance.

Predictably, my thoughts turn morbid again. Egad, how many door knobs did l touch on the way in here!? Just what was that slime that coated the buttons on the elevator? Have I been watching entirely too many Monk episodes?

It probably doesn't matter, I feel like death anyway. What's a few million additional deadly microorganism crawling over me?

Depressing places, these waiting rooms. Everyone craning around to look at the too-perky girl who randomly and seldomly pops out of the coveted door to the interior, hoping that it is their name that is called as she announces the next person to win the Waiting Game.

At last it is my turn. I feel the jealous eyes upon me as I am ushered into the labyrinth of austere tiny rooms. But I know that I am just trading the large, crowded waiting room for a more private waiting hell. Why is my time so little valued by those with M.D. following their name? Bastards. This one had better make me feel better.

I sit in the jet-black power chair, which is evidently on the default setting, "Maximum Discomfort". But even ill I am restless, and so I get even for my second enforced wait, poking into drawers and playing with the chair settings. With a little fiddling it is soon as comfortable as a Barcalounger.

No wonder men wait so long to see a doctor. What with childbirth, raising vomiting, pooping, disgusting little aliens and putting up with men, women are used to pain and punishment. Not so the proud males of the species, inventors of microwaves, bass boats and the 1957 Cadillac Eldorado Brougham. No, we men like our creature comforts and don't have the patience to put up with those that stand between us and our happiness. It's no wonder God gave women the responsibility of propagating the species. If it were up to us, mankind would have died out long ago.

As miserable as I am, I swear that it will be a cold day in Hades before I put myself through this again. Finally the doctor swaggers in and I silently promise myself that if this arrogant son of a bitch doesn't make me feel better, I will hunt him down and kill him in the street like the worthless offspring of filth and scum that he is. Then, as he steps out, having summed up my reason for misery in a few brief moments, I wryly admit to myself that I would have to feel much, much better to trouble myself to hunt for belly button lint, so doc is probably safe no matter how incompetent he is. But I always remember that half of all doctors finished in the bottom half of their class.

The Bad Midland*

You wouldn't think that an online test could tell you anything about how you talk, but the What American Accent Do You Have quiz is actually pretty good.

AlphaWife and I both have the same accent — which is to say that we don't really have one. I can see it for me 'cause mine came from the melting pot of military brats (although one of my siblings evidently has a Southern accent). But you'd think a south San Antonio gal would end up with a distinct accent. Maybe she's been around me too long?

 

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland   "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
The South
Philadelphia
The Inland North
The West
The Northeast
Boston
North Central
What American accent do you have? Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

I interviewed an applicant over the phone one time before bringing her in for a second interview. After we'd worked together several months she told me that her first impression of me was that I should be in radio. All well and good, I just don't think the money would have been there; I'm no Howard Stern . . . or Rush, for that matter.

* When I first saw the results of the test ,"The Midland", I figured it was going to tell me that I talked like I was from Midland, Texas. Imagine my surprise when I found that I talk like those damn Yankees from north of the Mason-Dixon line!

I Am Angry

. . . that I have to spend days trying to satisfy Big Brother's intrusive questions into my personal life, where I work, how much I am paid, what I spend my money on, whether I am married or not, how many others depend upon me for financial support, where I bank, which charities I support and how much do I give, how I choose to invest, where I choose to invest, whether I am attempting to start a small business, and so on.

And if I calculate incorrectly, I can be subjected to the further indignity of an even more intrusive audit, fined and even imprisoned.

Yes, I am doing my taxes. How dare "they" ask these questions. What business is it of anyone but me and mine? How did we get here?

When our elected servants die, may they appear before the Founding Fathers who sit in judgement as to their fate.

Hmmm . . . maybe I should start a new religion. I'm pretty sure there's a tax break for that.

A Little Cool

So there I am, waiting for the Bartlett GOP meeting to start and talking to a woman I had just met.

No one told me it was the featured speaker, Tennessee Supreme Court Justice Janice Holder.

What's fun about going to political events is that you never know who you'll be sitting next to.

But she wouldn't give me a hint about whether a Tennessee income tax was unconstitutional or not. Bummer.

Global Warming My ASS!

Now I realize that people put up with this kind of crap all the time, but those people are generally damn Yankees that choose to live where it is so cold that penguins scrounge for fire wood.

Me? I'm a transplanted Texan. I wear flannel shirts in August under my sports jacket. I'm just not made for cold. I don't reckon it's natural. Man is made to sweat, not shiver.

Tuesday morning I opened my eyes and thought to myself, "It's the middle of February. That cold stuff should be gone and I won't have to see it again until next year."

Then I got up, looked out the window and saw snow flurries. I swear I heard God laughing.

This morning I woke up to sixteen degrees and the lake looks like this:

Yeah, that's ice. On a lake. In Memphis. Way below the Mason-Dixon line.

This just ain't right.

Global warming my ass.

Auction Booty

We're kinda new to the fundraising scene, so for any neophytes out there let me give a word of warning.

At an event like a Lincoln Day Dinner, there's always a silent auction which has all kinds of stuff donated to help raise money for the party. Tonight there was everything from gift certificates for Chick-fil-A to crystal bowls with pewter elephant heads for feet (if you can picture that).

I figured I'd get things going by putting some starter bids on a few items. After all, there were 650+ rich Republicans in the room and surely someone would put down a Jackson for a $40 bottle of wine!

Uh, maybe not. We walked out with an armful of stuff and a much lighter wallet. But the wine alone was worth more than we spent, so we did good . . . right?

Jeesh, when we bid I hoped that we would walk out with one item. Instead we took home five, losing only one item (I found the guy paying for it — a bottle of wine from Spain — and thanked him for outbidding me).

Now why don't my bids at the NRA banquet win? I'd love to bring home a $200 gun for forty bucks. But noooooo, on really cool stuff like guns I get outbid!

Me and JC Watts

AlphaWife and I went to the 32nd annual Shelby County Lincoln Day Gala, and a gala it was. We heard Congressman Marsha Blackburn speak; once again she proved why she is one of the fastest rising stars in the Republican Party today.

But JC Watts, Jr. was the featured speaker, and he was the star tonight. Some presidential candidate should fill out his ticket with this man; eloquent, grounded, true Republican values.

It was an honor to shake this man's hand.

Life Lesson

If you are driving to work and realize that your car is hydroplaning, and then this thought almost idly floats across your consciousness:

Ya know, I should probably open my eyes right about now.

then you are probably still too sick to be driving.

Not that that happened to me. I'm just saying.

A Different World

Me: I'm going to see JC Watts next February. Can't wait. I got the email notification and went out that day to buy the tickets.

AlphaFriend: Uh . . . yeah . . . I've got tickets to My Little Pony, World's Biggest Tea Party. Live! Did I mention "Live"?

Talk about living in different worlds.

Got George's Christmas Card

I guess the person maintaining the Christmas list didn't check to see that I didn't give any money to the Republican party this year.

Check Choices

So I'm sitting at home, taking a vacation day to catch up on chores before Thanksgiving (like paying bills) and as I'm shredding four boxes of checks because they have our old address on them, it occurs to me that I need to order some decent ones before too much longer.

Well, first it occurs to me how great my Ativa X1800 shredder is (as it chews through a book of duplicate checks that I rip into just three sets to feed in), but I've blogged about my shredder before.

I loved my old checks — they even had my website and tagline on them:

But after the GOP Senate ruled like Democrats for six years instead of like their conservative colleagues in the House, I refuse to get something that labels me "Republican" again.

The site I use doesn't have any Neolibertarian checks (imagine my surprise), but they have something very close:

I can't think of anything more Libertarian, neo or otherwise, than the words and images of our founding fathers.

But then I came across these, and I must admit, it's just kind of hard for the chauvinist in me to resist:

Not a Morning Person

As I'm standing in the bathroom this morning with a razor in one hand and an open toothpaste tube in the other, trying to figure out where to put the toothpaste, I realized that even though they don't know it there is someone out there lying on an operating table who should be really happy that I'm not a heart surgeon. (It has been my experience that most surgeries seem to take place at obscene hours of the morning.)

As I was leaving the bathroom I took a glance at the atomic wall clock and realized that I really should take the time to set the clock on my nightstand for standard (not daylight savings) time. (I didn't.) It was far too early to get up and go to work.

As I'm parked on the street waiting for the doors to open at 6 am, I discover that I can get email fairly easy if I hold my laptop up above the dashboard. It seems to boost the wireless connection.

Finally, I discover that listening to Rammstein at full volume in the comfort of my car is a fine way to start work in the morning.

Here's a Hint

If you enter someone's house to do work, take a few seconds to introduce yourself and your crew. Take the time to talk to the homeowner for a minute.

This person is letting you into his/her home, probably the biggest invest of their lives outside of their children. They want to know that you are trustworthy and that you are not a drooling idiot.

In the past week I've had three crews in my house for several hours(today's crew is here to fix something that the first crew screwed up). Seemingly sullen youths who come in, mumble to each other and try their best to ignore that I even exist. This does not make me feel real comfortable and I certainly won't be having them back when I need more work done.

And for heaven's sake, you're at work. Stay off the damn cell phone and pay attention to what you're doing!

Of Patriots and Advertising

Congratulations to Angelo Cobrasci and all of the volunteers that put together the first Patriot's Day Gala.

They sold out of seats and scored Mark White for the keynote speaker. It was a very entertaining evening (but I'm waiting to hear if any of my bids won in the silent auction — we had to leave a little early).

In an effort to support the Coalition of Conservative Republicans (a fine organization), I purchased a quarter page ad in the program and it couldn't have turned out better:

Thanks to Paul for doing the art and graphics work on the ad.

Call Me Dogface

You scored as United States.

Your army is the American army. You want your home front to support the G.I.'s in their pursuit to liberate world from more or less evil tyrants.

United States		81%
Poland		81%
Italy		75%
British and the Commonwealth		69%
France, Free French and the Resistance		56%
Finland		50%
Germany		38%
Japan		38%
Soviet Union		25%

In which World War II army you should have fought?
created with QuizFarm.com

HT to Stormy Dragon, who seems to be 6% less French than I am.

Hummingbird Pics

Caught this little guy this morning just as it was starting to rain:

Of Grandchildren and Slave Labor

I haven't posted for the past six days because AlphaSon and family came for a visit.

That translates to six days in a house with a four-year-old and an almost-toddler.

It was great.

Not only did I get to relive the days of yore, I rediscovered some things:

1. Living with a four-year-old is 16x7x365 chaos. Sometimes more.
2. The reason that God doesn't let us have grandchildren first is that raising children is for the young. The only time, I think, that youth isn't wasted on the young because they need the boundless energy that only youth can provide.
3. Young children are both a trial and a joy.
4. Older children make great slave labor.

I will be finding bits of Playdough on the floors and individual Cheerios in the carpet and furniture for weeks, but it was worth it. And not only for the time spent with the grandkids; I took full advantage of AlphaSon's presence to get some things done (hence, item four in the list above). Boxes moved, speakers installed, and this:

This was a Pergola-in-a-box, some assembly required. OK, a lot of assembly required. But everything was going well until towards the end of the project when the instructions read: "It is recommended that six people perform this step."

That would be the step where you lift the entire trellis onto the four corner posts and secure it.

While I was still grappling with how the two of us were going to accomplish that task, AlphaSon suggested that we just put together the outer frame and lift it up, something the two of us could probably do. The point here is that he actually thought of a way to solve the problem before I did, something that does not happen often (as I am older and much, much wiser) and gives a dad much pride. (Of course, I improved on the suggestion and we built the frame on top of the posts, but it was his suggestion that set off the chain of thought and he insisted that I record that fact on my blog.)

Yes, children are a trial. But in the end, I think they are worth it. If not for the pride, then at least for the slave labor.

Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to all dads out there, but especially to this one:

May you be as blessed as I am, with the opportunity to spend this day with your father.

Technorati Tags: Fathers Day.

Lakeside Platform

Building the platform for the little bench pictured below took me somewhere in the neighborhood of 14 hours spread over five days (the pile of dirt behind the wall is bigger than it looks in the pic) and cost about $100, plus the iron bench and end table (which was on a half-price sale). Yet more evidence of why I am a project manager and not a construction worker!

Because it took me three days longer than I expected, I missed the Bartlett GOP meeting and the Mainstreet Journal political mixer. Mick has pictures from the mixer over at MSJ and Mike Hollihan has a killer review of his experience. I'm kicking myself for not making it.

But now we have a place to sit beside the lake and watch the ducks — and I think it'll last forever.

Most importantly, it's time to get back to politics. Hmmm, I wonder if I can pick up a wireless signal down there . . .

Mommy Raised a Jew

Who knew?

My parents are Methodist but I was pretty much raised non-denominational Protestant. I thought that I tended towards the neotheist end of the religious spectrum, in spite of the dangers traditional Christians fear.

And yet, when I took the Belief-O-Matic quiz at Beliefnet, I find that I belong in a different category altogether. Anybody got a Hebrew for Dummies book?

My results:

1. Reform Judaism (100%) 2. Sikhism (94%) 3. Bahá'í Faith (90%) 4. Orthodox Judaism (85%) 5. Islam (78%) 6. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (76%) 7. Liberal Quakers (74%) 8. Unitarian Universalism (69%) 9. Neo-Pagan (64%) 10. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (60%) 11. New Thought (57%) 12. New Age (56%) 13. Mahayana Buddhism (55%) 14. Jainism (54%) 15. Scientology (52%) 16. Hinduism (49%) 17. Taoism (45%) 18. Eastern Orthodox (45%) 19. Roman Catholic (45%) 20. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (43%) 21. Theravada Buddhism (42%) 22. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (42%) 23. Orthodox Quaker (42%) 24. Secular Humanism (37%) 25. Jehovah's Witness (36%) 26. Seventh Day Adventist (34%) 27. Nontheist (26%)

Also, according to Beliefnet's What's Your Spiritual Type quiz, I am an Old-fashioned Seeker — "Happy with my religion but searching for the right expression of it."

Good. One should never stop seeking truth. That search led me away from liberalism!

My Last Post?

This has been an incredible weekend, with the kind of weather that we in Memphis are rarely blessed with. We purchased a new umbrella for the patio furniture and a Weber grill. AlphaWife cooked a fantastic meal and we ate outside, sipping wine and watching as God put on a light show.

After the thunder started, AlphaWife retreated inside as I continued to sit, contemplating the nature of God and how fabulously lucky I have been in this life. (I love thunderstorms.) 

Then the sirens started up and a look at the weather channel showed heavy thunderstorms moving through the area with possible tornadoes. So I put away the wine (Californian, not French) and poured a couple of fingers of scotch (Glenfiddich -- single malt but not overwhelmingly expensive) and am sitting out back to see what comes (rather than huddling in the tub in an interior bathroom).

Every once in a while God makes it abundantly clear that He can take away everything that he has given. As I sit watching for a tornado, hail begins bouncing off the concrete with enough force to bounce up and hit me as I sit under the covered section of my patio and the sirens continue to wail.

But if I am to go down, a good way to go will be with my computer handy and a glass of single malt in hand.

Update: The sirens have gone silent, the hail has stopped and our house has seemingly escaped without harm (must check roof tomorrow -- that was some big hail). But for now, our good fortune continues.

AlphaPatriot Revealed

This picture was taken during the time that Senator Frist graciously granted the bloggers covering the SRLC some interview time.

My writeup of the interview is here.

Technorati Tags: AlphaPatriot, Bill Frist, Senator Frist.

Snow: Beautiful or Obscene

It is said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

This is what we are faced with this Friday afternoon as schools close and businesses allow employees to go home early:

Mike Hollihan says "Whee, it's snowing now, ahead of schedule!" Ah well, we all know Mike is only half baked.

On the other side of the state (and this is a long state), Brian reports that the Knox County Lincoln Day Dinner was cancelled due to the possibility of inclement weather. (Rob thinks this will guarantee that snow won't appear. I think he's wrong.)

Just a Bump in the Beltway says:

I like being snowed in. There's something cozy about knowing that I really can't do anything but stay home and drink cocoa.

But she's a liberal so you have to take that into account when listening to her.

After driving for an hour and a half in slush (the usual drive is 20 minutes), AlphaWife comes home to this view:

"Isn't it beautiful!" she exclaims. (AlphaWife is definitely not a liberal, so I have no explaination for her bit of insanity.)

In my opinion, no, no, no, a thousand times no! I am from Texas. And not that weird part of Texas that's in the panhandle which is flat and featureless, frozen in the winter and on the doorstep of Hell in the summer.

No, I am from the pretty part of Texas. Where the Hill Country is just a stones throw away. Where camping in the piney forests was common. Swimming in San Marcos, hiking in the desert, tubing on the Brazos. I grew up with the beach a tantalizing few hours away to the south.

No, snow is unnatural. It shrouds the landscape under a sterile blanket of frozen water. Water that should be liquid to be enjoyed. It covers beautiful green grass and coops up people and animals alike. And snow does this to the roads:

It's slushy and slippery and messy and dangerous.

Still, even I will admit that AlphaHouse is pretty in the snow.

On the other hand, this really screws up my plans for the weekend.

Technorati Tags: Snow, Memphis.

Just Registered

For the 2006 Southern Republican Leadership Conference. Early registration has been extended through 15 February.

"Southern" is somewhat of a misnomer, though, because the Midwestern region decided to join us. So 13 Midwest states will be represented in addition to the 13 Southern states. And these are some red, red states!

There are currently 68 confirmed speakers so if you can't find something interesting to go to during the breakout sessions then you just aren't political. We're talking heavyweights, like:

Bill Frist, M.D. Lamar Alexander Marsha Blackburn Arnold Schwarzenegger Mike Huckabee

Rudy Guiliani Newt Gingrich Karl Rove Fred Thompson J.C. Watts

At 150 bucks this is a real bargain. My problem is that it won't last long enough and that I won't be able to hear enough. Ah well, go register and I'll see you there. (If they print my name tag the way that I registered, it will say AlphaPatriot.com right below my name so look for me there! We can share notes between sessions.)

Technorati Tags: Republican, Southern Republican Leadership Conference.

Happiness Is . . .

. . . getting high-speed internet installed! I was without connectivity at the new house for a week due to an Earthlink misunderstanding. It was brutal.

But everything's all right now and as soon as I get some more of those damn boxes unpacked and put away I'll resume normal activities. Like a certain blogging obsession . . .

AlphaLibrarian

I don't know what erudite is, but I am one according to another of those silly internet quizes:

The Librarian
You scored 65 erudition!

Congratulations! You're well above average when it comes to your knowledge of English grammar, history, and literature. You may have missed a few questions, but if you keep your studies up and stay away from genre fiction, we'll have you ready for Stanford in no time! Who knows, we just might be reading your columns in Talk of the Town a few years from now.

"Well above average", eh? This would amaze any and all of my English teachers.

Take The Are You Truly Erudite? Test to find out how you would score. Hint: it's a lot harder than you'd think.

HT to Dragon Lady, who did even better than I did.

Move Complete

AlphaWife and I have just completed moving. Although our new home is only a little over six miles away from the old domicile, it was a time-consuming, unbelievably stressful, and incredibly expensive experience. Our new home has piles of boxes in every room save one (a spare bedroom upstairs) and I am still without a high speed internet connection (curses!).

Things are slowly coming together and the cats are slowly acclimating (some slower than others). Hopefully life will return to some semblance of normalcy soon. In the meantime we have tables without tops, a garage in which only one car will fit, and no one knows where the cat toys are.

House Purchase

The frantic search for a new home has been completed as negotiations were finalized yesterday. The new AlphaHouse is further east and has this fantastic view from the rear of the lot:

Posting has been light and will possibly be impacted in the coming three weeks as we are closing in a mere 17 days and must finish packing as well.

Ah well, at least I had a good real estate agent:

Just kidding. I used John Green and my agent is great.

Perhaps I'll host a bloggers bash this summer . . .

Technorati Tags: Personal.

Scary Housing Problems

Some time back I related that AlphaWife and I were preparing our house so we could move. In fact, after a losing her job to a round of downsizing I encouraged AlphaWife to stay home and fix things up rather than seeking employment. It was tough financially but worth it as she did a bang up job.

So good, in fact, that we sold our house without it ever being on the market!

A neighbor knew that we wanted to move, his daughter (and husband) came and looked, and a deal was banged out in short order. We went to Texas for Christmas and learned that the sale had to be completed before we got back. Thanks to FedEx the papers were overnighted for our signatures and then returned, and so we are now homeless. (Actually we can stay until the end of February but we don't actually own a home any more.)

It is my belief that each of us has a special power. For instance, mine concerns cars. I drive like an absolute maniac. I once had a sales guy from Houston (a town that prides itself on aggressive driving) who had to pry his fingers from my dashboard after a ride in my car as he grudgingly admitted that yes, I drive aggressively. I have had people take one ride with me and refuse to ever ride with me again. I have rocketed past cops doing paperwork on the side of the road so fast that it actually rocked their patrol car, yet they did not pursue and give me a ticket. I have rolled a car and walked away unscathed.

I'm just lucky that way [sound of knuckles knocking on a wooden surface].

We have owned two homes and each time AlphaWife has worked magic to sell it quickly and painlessly. I told her that I believe that she is a house genie.

On second thought, perhaps my luck is finding AlphaWife.

All this is to say that posting has been light and probably will remain so as we frantically search for the next great place to live. I attended a rather good debate between candidates for county commissioner tonight (after looking at a house after work) but won't be posting anything until tomorrow because I have to do price comparisons.

Blech, I hate it when real life interferes with my hobby.

Technorati Tags: Personal.

Resolutions I Have Kept

I don't like New Years Resolutions because I don't think you should wait for an arbitrarily made-up event like the start of a "new year" to make a change that will improve your life. For instance, I resolved to start exercising last September when my blood pressure spiked. I figured that was God was telling me that I had better start taking care of myself, so I listened.

But two years ago today I made a resolution that I thought I could keep and that would serve good purpose. It worked so well that I made the same resolution the following year.

I resolved that if I were wearing a belt, it would have a holster on it. Sometimes it would hold my carry weapon but more often than not the holster would be empty, but it would always be there.

Every day when I thread a belt through my holster and walk out the door unarmed because I am going to a place where I cannot protect myself I am reminded that our rights have been eroded over decades of history. Each time my hand brushes across the empty leather I am reminded that our forefather's words have been twisted and corrupted. Each time I notice the empty container I am reminded that the struggle to keep our rights is one that must be fought every day because those that seek to take them away never tire and never rest. Each time I become aware of my vulnerability to criminals I am reminded of the gun control has failed on every continent except Antarctica and that law abiding innocents have paid the price for that failure with their blood.

I do not want my grandchildren to pay that price and so I have kept this resolution for two years, having failed to wear my holster only thrice — and never on purpose. I am able to wear my holster at work without comment because I wear a sports jacket which conceals it. The wearing is not for others to see, it is not to draw questions or criticisms. It is only for me, my personal reminder that there are larger issues at stake than those in my life; that the fight for rights concerns us all.

I have worn my holster on airlines without exciting the government workers that routinely frisk nuns and war heros. I have worn it into government buildings without drawing the ire of policemen. I have worn it into restaurants that serve alcohol without panicking the owners or other customers.

This year I resolve to wear my holster again as a constant reminder to continue the fight until that time that it is barren leather no longer, until we can all protect ourselves in government buildings, restaurants and yes, even on airplanes.

Other people's resolutions:

• President Bush has a resolution.
• Scrappleface has some better resolutions for Bush (I love the last one). [HT to Mudville Gazette]
• Wizbang has only one that any parent can identify with.
• Maggie's Farm collected resolutions from pub customers.
• The Malcontent posts resolutions from several people, most gay, some not. [HT to Right Side of the Rainbow]
• Dizzy Girl seems to be accepting the inevitable.

Technorati Tags: New Years Resolution, Second Amendment, Resolution.

Chaos Theory and Life Changes

Saturday morning life was simple. AlphaWife and I had planned to stay in our current house until it went on the market sometime in the spring. We were even toying with the idea of staying for another year while we built a house.

Saturday afternoon we showed our house to the daughter of a neighbor and her husband and by Wednesday night we had a signed contract. They are two of the nicest people we've ever met (we talked for three hours when they came over to sign the contract, and all but about 20 minutes was about everything except the house) but it was, as you can imagine, a rather hectic four days.

It seems that their house in Biloxi, Mississippi had been taken by Katrina so they decided to relocate back to Memphis.

In other words, something that started as a breath of wind off the west coast of Africa sold our house for us. Who would have thought it?

Now, if only we had a place to live next year . . .

House Prices per Square Foot

I'm looking to sell my home and found an interesting correlation in the data. In looking at the prices at which homes in my neighborhood have sold during 2005 and sort by ascending square feet, I found that the smaller the house the more dollars per square foot it goes for:

Not unreasonable, I suppose, but I didn't think it would be that strong of correlation. Luckily, my house falls just before the big drop-off in price.

I Belong on Serenity

Because it is nearly 5 am and I have insomnia, another silly quiz: which sci-fi crew would you best fit in?

You scored as Serenity (Firefly).

You like to live your own way and don't enjoy when anyone but a friend tries to tell you should do different. Now if only the Reavers would quit trying to skin you.

           

Serenity (Firefly)		100%
Deep Space Nine (Star Trek)		94%
SG-1 (Stargate)		88%
FBI's X-Files Division (The X-Files)		75%
Millennium Falcon (Star Wars)		69%
Moya (Farscape)		69%
Nebuchadnezzar (The Matrix)		69%
Galactica (Battlestar: Galactica)		63%
Babylon 5 (Babylon 5)		63%
Bebop (Cowboy Bebop)		38%
Enterprise D (Star Trek)		38%
Andromeda Ascendant (Andromeda)		31%

No wonder I liked both the series and the movie.

AlphaPatriot Meets Jim Scoutten

I attended the annual Friends of the NRA banquet last Thursday. Gun bloggers will know that FONRA supports the non-political arm of the NRA. So although there was plenty of political talk, funds raised go towards education programs.

Thus it should come as no surprise that one of the speakers was long-time television personality Jim Scoutten, host of Shooting USA on the OLN channel.

Jim gave an excellent presentation on a program designed to encourage women to participate in shooting sports: Women On Target. [AlphaWife has already found the nearest event and is trying to line up some girlfriends to go with her.]

I got the pleasure of meeting Jim and got his autograph (click pic for full size image):

Gun bloggers, eat your hearts out!

SUV Saves AlphaWife

True story:

AlphaWife and friends were on their way to do their very favorite thing: shopping [AlphaWife insists I tell you it was only a Flea Market and she spent no money]. They were sitting at a stop light in a little Honda Accord when a fairly massive SUV pulled up behind them [AlphaWife insists that when it did she detected a change in gravitational field, but I remain skeptical].

Suddenly the SUV (which had been at a complete stop) smacks them from the rear!

Jumping out, they discover that there were two additional cars in the line behind the SUV: a small but very tricked out black car, and a little red car. A four were jammed together tighter than Democrats at a free buffet and the red car's tires were smoking: literally. The 16-year-old girl driver had never touched the brake, but rather had jammed on the gas, smacking into the line of cars at some 45 m.p.h. and continued to press the gas, tires spinning, shrieking, and smoking, until someone ran across the street, reached in and turned off the car!

End result: front of red car severely damaged, possibly totaled. Little black car was like an accordion, trunk smashed and front end ruined, driver very shaken up (but not hospitalized). That car will never see the road again. Little Honda at the front will require a new bumper and perhaps a new trunk lid (there was a little bending happening around the latch area). The SUV, of course, lost some paint, front and rear.

Can you imagine how fast that little red car must have been going to move a car so hard into an SUV that it moves far enough and hard enough to ruin the bumper of the car in front of it? And can you imagine what would have happened to the car AlphaWife was occupying if, instead of the SUV, there had been a liberal-friendly KIA sitting there just waiting to transfer all that kinetic energy to whatever was in front of it? [Most Accepted Theory: it would have been pushed into the very busy intersection where a Memphis driver, trying to make the light, would have t-boned the little car and all four occupants would now be talking to the angels. A nice outcome, admittedly, but a little premature.]

Let liberals ride their little eco-friendly mini-death traps. I will continue to wrap me and mine in as much steel as I can afford to move down the road.

Sam I Am

Yet another of the endess "what are you" quizes, but this one'll I'll post 'cause it makes me proud to be among the 5% who are this kind of muppet:

You are Sam the Eagle.
You are patriotic and devoted. And extremely anal.

HOBBIES:
Patriotism, Being appalled at what everyone else is doing.

FAVORITE MUSIC:
The National Anthem of America

FAVORITE MOVIE:
"An American In....America"

LAST BOOK READ:
"Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, Eagles are from America"

QUOTE:
"Please stop that now! It's un-American!"

933 other people got this result!
This quiz has been taken 20654 times.
5% of people had this result.

What Muppet are you?

Unusual Things You Find When Moving

As I'm packing up in preparation for moving (a date that is receding into the future, but that's another story) I am constantly amazed at the things I run across.

Like a cost/benefit analysis I wrote for upgrading the mainframe to VSE/ESA. To give you an idea of how long ago I wrote this document, one of the benefits is an increase of maximum total virtual memory from 128 MB to 256 MB. Geez, most PDAs have more memory than that!

Oh, and a benefit of upgrading the processor? Support of up to 384 MB of real memory whereas the "current limitation is 16 MB".

Man, I feel old.

Kitty Lessons

What I learned today from one of my four damn cats:

• No matter how small the kitten
• Nor how incredibly tall the tree
• Nor how piteously she meows while stuck 40 feet in the air
• Nor how many time you wake up during the night worrying about the miserable creature and about how the heck you are going to get the animal out of said tree the next day
• You just can't be mad at her when you find her curled up safe and sound in her regular sleeping spot the next morning.

The other lesson is that a cat that can get themselves into a fix is perfectly capable of getting themselves out.

This is the critter responsible for my near-sleepless night.

I'm a Cultural Creative

From another of those ever-present online quizes, although this one seems sorta reasonable:

You scored as Cultural Creative.

Cultural Creatives are probably the newest group to enter this realm. You are a modern thinker who tends to shy away from organized religion but still feels as if there is something greater than ourselves. You are very spiritual, even if you are not religious. Life has a meaning outside of the rational.

Cultural Creative		81%
Existentialist		63%
Postmodernist		63%
Idealist		56%
Modernist		56%
Materialist		25%
Romanticist		25%
Fundamentalist		13%

What is Your World View? (updated) created with QuizFarm.com

Political Typology

Michelle Malkin points to an online quiz from Pew Research which categorizes people into one of nine political groups (including the terminally apathetic, called "bystanders").

Unsurprisingly, I am an "Enterpriser", which is an "extremely partisan Republican group":

Assertive on foreign policy and patriotic; anti-regulation and pro-business; very little support for government help to the poor; strong belief that individuals are responsible for their own well being. Conservative on social issues such as gay marriage, but not much more religious than the nation as a whole. Very satisfied with personal financial situation.

Which is about as accurate as a horoscope. I am in favor of government help to the truly needy (although I would rather it be placed in the hands of charities), support gay marriage (although it is not one of my "hot button" issues, and am not all that satisfied with my personal financial situation (although according to Democrats I am fabulously wealthy).

According to this test I am about 57% Enterpriser and 60% Conservative Democrat.

Moving Melancholy

AlphaWife and I are going to move. No set time frame, but it will probably happen some time this year. As all good neighborhoods seem to do eventually, ours is declining and it is time to flee even further from the city, trading one suburb for another.

Military brats move on a regular basis (and I was one who was blessed to be raised on military bases all over the world), and packing was always a time of excitement and anticipation: new place to explore, new friends to find, new things to learn, new house to fight over who gets what room.

For some reason it feels different this time. First, damn it I don't want to move. I like our house, our neighborhood, our location, even a neighbor or two. I feel like I'm being forced out and like a petulant child I feel that it's just not fair.

Second, I have evidently reached that age in which placing things in a box is like packing away a lifetime of memories. And nothing has brought that on more than putting away my oldest and dearest friends — my books. Mostly tattered paperbacks, some read so many times that pages threaten to detach from the binding with every turn.

The books from my earliest memories, like the Cat in the Hat Comes Back printed in 1957. My tiny collection of Tom Swift books, the first I ever collected although in truth they were hand-me-downs from older siblings.

The books that molded me and are as much a part of me as any real experience. A hefty collection of Heinlein and Asimov (some of which are replacements because the first copies really did fall apart from too much use). A translation of War Commentaries of [Julius] Ceaser. The entire Hornblower series by C. S. Forrester. Helter Skelter. Herbert's Dune. 1984. A Brave New World. Even a copy of the Anarchist's Cookbook.

The books read purely for pleasure. The true pulp fiction E.E. "Doc" Smith. The fantasy world of Tolkein. The bizarre and dark worlds of Philip K. Dick and Franz Kafka and Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. Old favorites and giants of the genre like Ray Bradbury, Harry Harrison, Keith Laumer, Auther C. Clarke, Mack Reynolds, Poul Anderson and Gordon R. Dickson. Newer friends like James Clavell, John Grisham, Spider Robinson, Douglas Adams (and yes, I have the Original Hitchhiker Radio Scripts). The complete and annotated Sherlock Holmes. My Dickens collection.

My explorations into religion, including a Bible I had as a child and What is a Jew? from more recent times. Good News for Modern Man resting beside The Complete Seder. Even a copy of Chant and be Happy of Hare Krishna fame.

The books that are those that I think I should have, but haven't had time to read yet — always with the promise of "someday". My book of Edgar Allen Poe poetry, something to have but rarely pick up. The complete works of ancient Greek philosophers. The History of Warfare in the Western World.

The books I have because I thought it was something I should have. An autographed copy of a Doonesbury book (once a prized possession, now almost meaningless as I have come to regard him not as an edgy artist but just as another aging liberal, clinging to ideals long past the time of their effectiveness). Treasured autographed copies of books by Ann Coulter and Oliver North, books by Hannity and Malkin purchased primarily to support those voices that need to be heard in this day and age.

So many books, collected through purchases or gifts. Almost a thousand in total, yet the collection is so incredibly inadequate.

My real estate lady advised me to take down my walls of books to make the house "look better" (what soulless creatures house buyers must be!). I didn't really mind the thought of moving until I had to put my friends in a box.

Our next house must have a library, not because the books I have are suitable for display, but because they are my friends and I would miss them dearly were they gone.

Be as careful of the books you read, as of the company you keep; for your habits and character will be as much influenced by the former as by the latter.
     — Paxton Hood

Rare Personal Post

Tonight I joined Memphis conservatives (as well as FishKite Mick and Half-Bakered Mike) to listen to senate candidate Ed Bryant speak.

Bryant was my congressman before he quit to run against Alexander in the 2002 senate race. The reason I knew Bryant was a good congressman is because I never had to write him to express my displeasure at any of his actions. He is a solid conservative and will make an excellent senator.
After the speech and a Q and A session, Bryant graciously stayed to mingle, take one-on-one questions and even posed for pictures. In honor of this event I am posting the first-ever picture of me on my blog. Here I am with future senator Ed Bryant (I'm the guy on the left):

Me Must Have New Toy!

My boss' boss purchased one of these for himself for Christmas and let me play with it this morning. It is an iPAQ HX4700.

Out of the box, it comes with:

• Wireless (802.11b)
• Bluetooth
• IR
• SD (Secure Digital) storage expansion
• CompactFlash storage expansion
• An incredibly bright 4" display with a resolution of 480 x 640

This morning was the first time that I was able to see my wml feed. (It is ugly and needs much work, but I didn't know because I've never been able to view it since I created it 15 months ago!)

From a review at PDA Buyers Guide:

Conclusion
Certainly a lovely Pocket PC that will have power users, video buffs and those who want to view photos jumping for joy. At $649, this is the most expensive Pocket PC on the market, but it does bring a lot of features to the table. It has the fastest processor currently available on a PDA, a heap of memory, Bluetooth, WiFi, a large battery that's user replaceable and dual slots.

Pro:
Fast! Lots of memory, good software bundle, WiFi, Bluetooth that is friendly and supports many profiles, high capacity battery, gorgeous display, VGA resolution, integrated flip cover. Uses the same sync port as many prior and contemporary iPAQs, which means you have a good selection of accessories to choose from.

Con:
The most expensive Pocket PC, touchpad is interesting but I'm not sure it adds to usability and gamers won't like it. The largest Pocket PC on the market, means it won't tuck easily into your pants pocket. This isn't HP's fault but rather was Microsoft's decision: VGA is more like 1/2 VGA, offering something in between QVGA and true VGA. A free hack called SE_VGA will let you run the iPAQ in true VGA mode and many apps work in this mode. However, unless you have excellent eyes, you'll discover why Microsoft didn't go with a true VGA experience: even on a 4" display, it's not easy to see things or read text.

I'm buying one of these. Today. Now. I cannot wait.

I must have it!

A Perfect Christmas

 

The elements for a perfect day:

1. Four generations joined together with everyone in good health.
2. AlphaBrother Advised by Wolves and AlphaWife cooks a Christmas feast that can't be beat.
3. AlphaBrother #1 cleans my gun for me (dirty since we went shooting last Thanksgiving, I'm ashamed to say).
4. Granddaughter AlphaPrincess (pictured above) is old enough to enjoy Christmas and brings joy to everyone around her.
5. Daughter-in-law Legs informs us that, God willing, grandchild #2 will join us for Christmas next year.
6. AlphaSon told me that the decision to have the second child was influenced by advice that I gave them. [My son actually listened to me!]

Comments Still Off

I still have comments turned off as I was getting over six hundred spam comments a day for a while.

During the move to the new hosting service, Paul converted my site to be dynamic (PHP) which is really nice. On the other hand, there doesn't seem to be many plugins for PHP installations so things like MT-Blacklist just aren't an option.

If anyone has any suggestions I'd be glad to hear them: liberty at this domain. Thanks.

Apologies

Between moving AlphaPatriot to a new hosting service, building a new hard drive for my laptop, and the typical IT end of the year crunch, I've had little time for reading news, much less posting anything. I have neglected my readers and the other blogs that I regularly read.

This will, hopefully, change in the next couple of days. If not, I may experience serious withdrawal symptoms and nobody wants to see that.

Counting Cows

Back in the olden days when I was the son of an Air Force Sargent and money was scarce, we took our entertainment where we could. Often this involved piling everyone into the car and driving, making sandwiches at roadside parks and camping whenever it was an overnight trip (I remember staying at a motel exactly once and I had to share a room with two brothers).

Many of the games that we used to play to pass the time on these trips aren't really an option anymore. Ladybird Johnson cleaned up our highways and made us get rid of all the billboards, so playing "ABC" is a thing of the past. Trying to be the first to spot a curve sign so you could shout "curve sign" at the top of your lungs is difficult on today's super highways. (Besides, I remain convinced that Dad cheated: besides being farsighted I think that he had the roads memorized, often claiming the sighting before it was physically possible. After all, there was a mountain in the way.)

But the game of counting cows as one drives through America's vast open spaces is still a fun game. Granted, it is difficult to make your opponent bury their cows because cemeteries are now hidden away next to towns which the Interstate gives a wide berth to, but the counting can be done.

It was one of life's simple pleasures, but now that it is just my wife and I things have changed. That is to say, the game bears very little resemblance to what it once did.

It started when I had difficulty figuring out how she ended up with so many blasted cows at the end of a trip. But listening to the counting process gives a clue: "One, two, three, ten, thirty, sixty ..." Yeah, I think I see what is going on there.

Once I had that sussed and started calling her on it, cows were no longer the only things that got counted.

Her: "I have chickens!"

Me: "Chickens don't count."

Her: "Yes they do. They're livestock. Whatsa matter? You prejudiced against chickens? I <EM>like</EM> chickens! So I have chickens!"

And so it evolved. We started counting everything from chickens to hawks.

Then things started getting ugly (for which I must accept blame ‘cause I started it).

Her: "I have cows! One, two, three, twenty, sixty . . . a hundred and fifty cows!"

Me: "You call those cows? Look at them. They're sick -- your cows have anthrax! You can’t count cows that’ll be dead by the end of the day.”

Her: “They’re not sick. They’re on a training diet because they are secret ninja cows! They’re getting ready to sneak across the road and kill all of your cows tonight so you might as well dig a pit and throw them in.”

How times change. Did I mention that there are no children in the car?

So Close, Yet So Far Away

Email Traffic

Someone asked me how much email I get every day and off the top of my head I estimated about 200. I wasn't far off. Total email from seven accounts over the past four weeks I've averaged:

• 121 legit emails per day
• 82 spam emails per day
  
  
  

  So 40% of my email is spam, but thanks to Mail Washer Pro it never gets downloaded to my computer.

  BTW, the stats came from Mail Washer Pro as well. A damn fine product (especially if you can code regular expressions).

  Posted by AlphaPatriot at 6:04 PM | TrackBack

Look Ma, I'm a Superhero!

Ubique Patriam Reminisci exposes the secret superhero alteregos of the members of the Watcher's Council.

Of course, my real persona is nothing like my superhero character.

I Wish!

Hat tip to Gene Healy at Brainwash, who appears to be disgusted to find that he is Paul Krugman!

Horns of a Dilemma

A rare disclosure of personal information: I moved to Tennessee from Dallas some years ago, and have since become an impassioned Compassionate Conservative. For those of you who do not know, Texans take their football very seriously.

So you may see my problem when faced with the first night of the Republican National Convention being opposite the first pre-season football game that just happens to be between the Tennessee Titans and the Dallas Cowboys.

Sometimes life just isn't fair.

Alpha Hint

When attempting to make a water pump work, it does not matter that you spend five hours taking it apart and putting it back together, nor that you do the same for all of the various valves connected to the water system, nor that you push wire through sections of PVC to make sure that they are not blocked, nor that you replace every bloody gasket you come across, if you have neglected to put on the blasted defuser that goes over the impeller because it is buried beneath a pile of junk on your workbench.

"Experts"

Children rate their fathers as among their least popular playmates because they are too competitive, according to research among more than 1,000 youngsters....

"But children will get fed up if they lose all their time. It's frankly demoralising and not much fun."

My wife used to let my son win games and got mad at me when I wouldn't.

I will never forget the look on my son's face when he realized that he had beaten me at a card game. That look was because he knew he had earned it -- and he had. It gave him a sense of pride and confidence that winning a thousand games with his mother would never come close to matching. From that moment on, he never stopped trying to beat me again. He worked at it, and sometimes did. It made him stronger and smarter.

Silly experts.

AlphaPatriot

Hmmm, according to this online personality test I am indeed an "alpha":

You are an SRDL--Sober Rational Destructive Leader. This makes you a mob boss. You are the ultimate alpha person and even your friends give you your space. You can't stand whiners, weaklings, schlemiels or schlemozzles. You don't make many jokes, but when you do, others laugh out loud. They must.

People often turn to you for advice, and wisely. You are calm in a crisis, cautious in a tempest, and attuned to even the finest details. Yours is the profile of a smart head for business and a dangerous enemy.

You have a natural knack for fashion and occupy a suit like a matinee idol. Your charisma is striking and without artifice. You are generous, thoughtful, and appreciate life's finer things.

Please don't kick my ass.

I got news -- Tony Soprano I'm not.

But a hat tip to "evil genius" Mr. Mike at Half-Bakered for the interesting diversion.

You know you're in Memphis when ...

On the way to work today I counted a dozen churches (and an "Islamic Center") in as many miles.

This is for You, Dad

OUR DEBT TO THE HISTORIC MEN AND VALIANT WOMEN IN THE SERVICE OF OUR COUNTRY CAN NEVER BY REPAID. THEY HAVE EARNED OUR UNDYING GRATITUDE. AMERICA WILL NEVER FORGET THEIR SACRIFICES.

So reads one of the plaques at the WW II memorial that opened yesterday.

The memorial has been a long time coming. First authorized by Congress in 1993, it has generated seemingly endless debate and even spawned a lawsuit that sought to halt construction. Meanwhile, the World War II generation was passing on at the rate of 1,056 a day. Of 16 million Americans who served, fewer than 4 million remain.

The numbers are staggering. 405,000 Americans died in a conflict that engulfed the world. Another 671,000 were wounded. Many more fought and came back with bodies intact, but pitifully few escaped unscathed.

These are not men who swagger and boast of deeds outside of the increasingly rare reunion. These are men who did a job and then set about the business of getting back their lives.

My father served but rarely spoke of anything except the boat trips -- getting seasick on a huge ship, standing at the railing with eyes fixed on horizon.

A lifetime of military service has generated an encyclopedia of anecdotes. As he was putting up a picture of the base commander in an office an officer asked him what he was doing, to which he quickly answered, "Hanging the general, sir!" He claims to be the first driver to tip over a vehicle designed to be untippable: the new-fangled half-track. And many, many more; a different story for every occasion.

Being in Security Service and a Crypto instructor, there is much that he cannot tell: what communications were whizzing across the oceans when the Pueblo was captured; how close we came to war at various times when he would disappear for days into a mountainside framed with concrete; how many idiocies he observed but cannot tell; how many unnamed heroes he has known to have fallen, but whose deeds remain veiled by national security.

Being in The War there is much that he just won't tell. Sometimes long ago we would catch him in just the right mood and we would get a peek into the horrors of war that he and his millions of comrades were forced to endure. The propaganda machine that generated more hate of the enemy than sympathy for their plight. The twisted bodies of those that fell. The stench of burnt flesh draped over an island like a shroud as the crews first flamed a cave and then blasted the opening shut, sealing up those inside. And the screams that haunt the memories of everyone that heard them.

Today I sat with my mother and my wife in emergency admitting at a VA hospital, waiting to hear why my dad had been in severe pain for most of the night (which my stoic father only admitted to my wife because she wormed it out of him) and had passed out in the waiting room to which we made him go and to which my mother dragged him.

Sitting in that room I was surrounded by a few of the remnants of the greatest generation. Black, brown and white, they have a common dignity and respect unmatched by those that came after. Even as each minute ticked interminably by and I waited with a cold fear gripping and twisting my insides for hour upon hour, I was proud to be sitting among such men and women.

My father will not be among the 1,056 that we lose each day, at least not this day. Although he was admitted for observation, the danger seems to have passed. For that I am thankful.

The materials of the 7.4 acre monument are granite and bronze, and every stone was quarried in the United States except for some green accent stone from Brasil.

Its central element is the Rainbow Pool, now with fountains, that sits between arches symbolizing hostilities in Europe and the Far East.

The arches are flanked by semicircles of pillars, one each for the states, territories and the District of Columbia - together, signifying national unity. Beyond the pool is a wall of 4,000 gold stars, one for every 100 American servicemen killed in the war.

This memorial is for that generation that confronted evil and slapped it down. The generation that knew the incredible price that achieving victory would exact, yet was willing to pay. The generation to which we owe the idyllic post-war years and economic growth. The generation that defined American grit.

This memorial is for you Dad, and for the patriots that joined you. It is for Uncle Harry who drove tanks against a seemingly overwhelmingly powerful foe. It is for Uncle Frank who manned the airfields amidst attacks and fierce bombardments. It is for a generation the likes of which we can only pray that America will be lucky enough to ever see again.

TODAY THE GUNS ARE SILENT. A GREAT TRAGEDY HAS ENDED. A GREAT VICTORY HAS BEEN WON.
Gen. MacArthur

My Rousseauian Moment of Shame

At some point in his "career", every blogger takes some amount of inane pride at appearing at the top of a Google search result. I once went so far as to try to bump up my ranking for "macromedia boobs" and was quite pleased with my results even though the subject matter has absolutely nothing to do with the intent of this blog. I also come in first for "apache video" even though I am referencing a post over on Warblogging that has the actual video on his server, which just doesn't seem fair. (As an aside, I seem to be getting a lot of hits from people searching Google Images for "bikini biker chick", but I digress.)

I just spent a semester reading (and re-reading) Jean Jacques Rousseau, a dead French guy that was the inventor of collectivism, father of the French Revolution and the basis of American liberalism today. While writing my term paper I Googled for "Rousseauian" just to make sure it was a real word that I could use in an academic paper. I confirmed that it is indeed a word, but more importantly I found that I am the top result returned.

So I lead the result set for a word that refers to a dead French guy that I despise because he inspired Marxism and thus fathered socialism and communism and was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of millions of people.

How revolting. Oh well, I can always be proud that I am both first and third for an MSN search for "boobs sell", can't I?

Moon over Miami

Or a sunset, anyway.

I apologize to everyone. The excellent bloggers whom am I not visiting. The wonderful few who drop by to read my humble attempts that is a poor mixture of journalism and op-ed.

I am on a very rare road trip this week at a conference in the Miami area.

In a word, it is beautiful here. The picture above was taken from the balcony of my hotel room. The other side of the hotel is ocean front (not beach front, because that seemed to have washed away recently and they haven't replaced it).

On the other hand, I have not been on the net for days and I am woefully behind in my news. And I have trouble sleeping in a hotel. And this is a "Coke" hotel, so no diet Mountain Dew. Double withdrawal is taking its toll!

Who am I?

According to a Quizzilla test (and we all know how accurate those things are), if this were the Sixties I would be a Hippie.

Now, way back in my youth I admit that I was a hippie-wanna-be with a full beard and a beautiful head of hair (my "freak-flag) that flowed down to the bottom of my shoulder blades. In fact, one time I time I was visiting my brother in the hospital. A pretty young nurse came up behind me and said to my brother, "I thought you said you didn't have any girls visiting you!"

I grinned and turned around. The poor thing almost died of embarrassment.

The other thing I liked was having a car full of horny high-school guys pass me in the fast lane, all craning around to see what I looked like and smiling big to make a good impression. The look of realization and disappointment on their faces was absolutely priceless.

I had really pretty hair -- girls were jealous. I loved my hair. I had vivid nightmares where I was in the bathroom brushing my hair and it would start coming out in big, bloody clumps (it's true!).

Well, the big, bloody clumps didn't come to pass but the falling out part did.

Sniff!

Back to the test. It said, "You are a Hippie. Wow."

Obviously this was written by someone not familiar with the era. Otherwise it would have said, "You are a Hippie. Far out, Man!"

It said that I was a Hippie even though I indicated in my answers that I am conservative, like plaid, supported the war of liberation in Iraq, and that anti-war protesters and feminists irritate me.

On the other hand, changing one answer (the only one I wavered on) from Janis Joplin to John Wayne turned me into a Playboy ("You are a Playboy. You perv.").

Imagine that.

Hat tip to Voluntarily in China, who is a Folkie. What kind of Sixties Person are you?

Update: This is too funny!

According to another Quizilla test, if I were a Muppet character I would be:

Sam the Eagle

You are patriotic and devoted. And extremely anal.

HOBBIES: Patriotism, Being appalled at what everyone else is doing.

FAVORITE MUSIC: The National Anthem of America

FAVORITE MOVIE: "An American In....America"

LAST BOOK READ: "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, Eagles are from America"

QUOTE: "Please stop that now! It's un-American!"

What Muppet are you?

Hat tip to You Can't Cure Stupid.

So this what happens to hippies that go bald -- they become Bald Eagles!

Everyone Else is Doing It

 
Saruman

If I were a character in The Lord of the Rings, I would be Saruman, Wizard, the leader of the council of wizards.

In the movie, I am played by Christopher Lee.

Who would you be?
Zovakware Lord of the Rings Test with Perseus Web Survey Software

I think what changed me from Gandolf to Saruman was the brutally truthful answer that I would use the ring to gain power. I mean, what am I, a monk?

This Makes for a Merry Christmas Indeed!

As a member of good standing in the Rocky Top Brigade, I am duty-bound to aid in the search for "a good single malt Scotch whiskey for around $20".

Thus it is with great pride that I announce that non-blogging brother Advised by Wolves presented me with not one, but two boxes containing a variety of single malt scotches (click on picture for a larger popup).

Perhaps I'll share my findings. Perhaps I'll hoard the goodies for a rainy day. Only time will tell.

What's your Digital IQ?

According to a survey over at MSNBC I have a digital IQ of 152, which puts me in the top category.

Silly survey - it doesn't distinguish between what you do and what your friends help you do.

Hat tip to Resonance.

Best Metallica Album

According to the blogosphere-ubiquitous Quizilla, if I were a Metallica album I would be And Justice for All. Which is, as Say Uncle points out, a fine album.

But Say Uncle (whose opinions I respect) also says that it was Metallica's last good album, an opinion that I must respectfully disagree. Three years later they released Metallica ("The Black Album") which contains some great songs: Enter Sandman, Sad But True, Don't Tread on Me (which should have been played on the 9/11 tribute show but wasn't), and the haunting love song Nothing Else Matters (yes, Metallica can do love songs).

Seven years after that they released Garage Inc. Yes, the second CD of their early stuff mostly sucks but the first CD of nothing but covers absolutely rock. They redid Black Sabbath's Sabbra Cadabra, Bob Seger's Turn the Page, and (my favorite) Thin Lizzy's Whisky in the Jar. Absolutely amazing.

Sorry Uncle, even if you don't count covers (which I do), Metallica's last good album was in 1991.

And I haven't even heard this year's release, St. Anger, so for all I know they could still be going strong.

I'm not this liberal!

Say Uncle took this quiz, so I had to do the same. I knew SU was more Libertarian than I but he didn't believe me. On the other hand, there is no way that I'm that far left on any chart. Give it a try - it's one of the shortest quizzes you'll ever take.

Your Personal Self-Government Score is 80%. Your Economic Self-Government Score is 60%.

Which member of the Bush Administration are you?

According to yet another Quizilla test:

You are George Walker Bush! You are the most powerful man in the world, which leaves you little time to think for yourself. Fortunately, you have your friends to think for you!

OK, so I was really looking to be Karl Rove (my hero) like Filthy Hippy Speak, but who can complain about having the same ideals as the man that returned honesty, decency and integrity to the White House 1384 days ago?

Go find out Which member of the Bush Administration are you?

October Moon

Isn't it amazing what a 10X optical zoom and a clear night will give you?

I'm thinking about asking Santa for a new Kodak DX6490 for Christmas. Twice the resolution of what I have and a 10X zoom.

Martini or Scotch?

According to the What Drink Are You? quiz, I am a Martini. If so, it is with Bombay Gin because the bar gin is dreadful.

I wonder if this qualifies me to be in Matthew Stinson's Axis of Martini? If so, does that represent a conflict of interest with my responsibility to aid my fellow Rocky Top Members in a never-ending search for a good single malt Scotch whiskey for around $20?

Questions, questions, questions . . .