Wog's Blog

Farewell

2007-12-16T18:15:00.001-08:00

Hi All!

This is written by Paul's (WOG) youngest son Andrew.

My dad passed away on November 4th, 2007 at 8:20 p.m.
He died peacefully and lovingly surrounded by his wife and three children.

To the readers: Thank you so much for reading this blog; it was a HUGE part of my father's life.

WOG: YOU WILL BE MISSED!! WE WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!

Comments are appreciated..

Malaise

2007-10-21T09:38:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I apologize for not coming up with any posts. They will come back, hopefully.

Health is dreadful and I have zero energy. A trip up the stairs leaves me gassed and needing to sit down.

MRI found a growing mass on the liver, so I got a CT which doesn't tell if it is cancerous. So off to the U of M I go next week for another MRI, bloodwork, and perhaps a biopsy. The way I feel really makes whether it is the big C a moot point.

Suffice it to say that nowadays I am very inactive, sleep a lot and my mind is consumed with worry that this is close to the end.

I'm not ready, but I guess I never will be.

Cheers!

This is Pretty Funny

2007-10-13T08:35:00.000-07:00

I hate to resemble one of the cute/funny chain emails one gets from earnest family and friends but this parody of the Republican Convention logo is a laugh, albeit an easy one.

Unweaved and Unraveled

2007-09-24T15:25:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Strange juxtaposition, I know.

Let me explain.

Today, I drove the Bug through the engineering marvel that is called "Unweaving the Weave" which is taking way too long, but the clever detours have already made the 694-35E junction move traffic much better.

Going South on 35E just south of County Road E, one enters a narrow single-lane "chute". The brakes always come on where it starts, but then people drive through the semi-scary no shoulder, concrete barrier restricted detour. Once cars get in the chute, they drive like bats out of hell. Today I was driving in it at only 5 miles over the posted 55 limit only to watch the line of traffic that ahead, for which even anticipated, I had to initially brake, disappear into the distance.

Couldn't catch up and was very comfortable at legal speed.

Then my reckless, hell-raiser self kicked in. I prodded the old soldier to 75mph thru the chicanes. Never caught the crowd, but got a good rush out of it.

As I rejoined normal traffic, the untied lace that had held my "leather wrapped" steering wheel material on, totally unraveled, twisted and caught in the steering column, forcing me to turn hard to break it. That thing has been on since 1975. I am totally depressed. The skinny big wheel feels like crap and it's slippery. I don't think the wrap is replaceable but I am sure going to hit Google to be sure.

Ah well, the poor bug has taken a beating this summer and the paint is flaking and crazing and rust is appearing for the first time in 25 years since I had it restored. It is on the market and I will not get much for it, but I will get my money out of it for sure.

Sort of a metaphor for life: One can unweave and unravel but if one is lucky, one gets the money out of it...or can lose it all.

So it goes.

Hornblower

2007-09-13T11:57:00.000-07:00

Hi A11!

My first submission to LookTrueNorth.com has been accepted.

I am capable of much better, but to get my toes wet I launched some excrement toward the wall and it stuck!

Read it here: Wog On True North

Heading True North

2007-09-10T18:22:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

An exciting new bog, "Look True North " has just hit the blogosphere with a splash. The best conservative bloggers in Minnesota, if not the whole country have been picked to write for it and I don't doubt that it will be huge.

It's all about collecting the best work of individual bloggers in one site, so one does not have to remember to check many blogs each day.

And they let me in as a contributer.

And I am terrified and it will be awhile before I dare post something. I will be a practice squad guy watching how the pros do it, and if I should happen upon a pearl that others missed, I will venture forth.

It's hard to imagine that I am good enough to run with the big dogs, but darn it, as Al Franken's Stuart Smalley famously said, "You're Good Enough, You're Smart Enough, and Doggone It, People Like You."

I'm smart enough, and a lot of people really like me. Not sure about being good enough, but I am excited at the prospect of proving even that I am good enough. I haven't been good enough, enough. Here is yet another chance to show my stuff.

Cheers!

Omigod, Not Another Lyric!!!

2007-09-09T18:46:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

If I started posting all the lyrics that tell me lifestory I will use up billions of bytes. So, sorry, last one for now...

"Strangers", Ray Davies (Kinks in case you didn't know)

Where are you going I don't mind
I've killed my world and I've killed my time
So where do I go what do I see
I see many people coming after me
So where are you going to I don't mind
If I live too long I'm afraid I'll die
So I will follow you wherever you go
If your offered hand is still open to me
Strangers on this road we are on
We are not two we are one
So you've been where I've just come
From the land that brings losers on
So we will share this road we walk
And mind our mouths and beware our talk
'Till peace we find tell you what I'll do
All the things I own I will share with you
If I feel tomorrow like I feel today
We'll take what we want and give the rest away
Strangers on this road we are on
We are not two we are one
Holy man and holy priest
This love of life makes me weak at my knees
And when we get there make your play
'Cos soon I feel you're gonna carry us away
In a promised lie you made us believe
For many men there is so much grief
And my mind is proud but it aches with rage
And if I live too long I'm afraid I'll die
Strangers on this road we are on
We are not two we are one
Strangers on this road we are on
We are not two we are one

Changing Direction

2007-09-09T17:56:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Man oh boy have I had my head buried in my navel lately?

(and the crowd voices it's enthusiastic agreement)

As an honest politician would tell you, "Never doesn't necessarily mean 'forever'."
CLICK THE PIC - check out the humming birds

So I am taking my personal life pretty much off-line. Heading out for uncharted waters with thoughts unshared.

I have hit a big fork in the road and I need to make some decisions within the constraints of what I have the freedom to decide.

I will still do general topics and tilt a bit back toward politics, 'cos I am an inveterate observer with strong opinions.

I am hoping to be accepted into some heady blogger company on a new website. Pretty exciting.

I need excitement.

I need to work past the many physical and mental pains and suck whatever happiness life still holds for me.

I need people to like me.

I feel like $1,000,000.00 when I hang around with American Legionnaires and fellow Trivia players. It's a high that cannot be replicated by drowning in booze. I have had a lot of trouble balancing that with the old temptation.

Now I am starting to say too much.

A very wise old man who has read my blog religiously told me that he has kept a "secret journal" to pass on to his children when he goes. Thick as a phone book, he says and I believe it. He is a fantastic writer and a sensitive person and I'm sure that journal will be editable into a best selling book once it sees the light of day.

"Paul," he told me, "Don't bare your soul to everyone in the world. It's none of their god damned business."

If things play out the way I wish they wouldn't, this blog will go quiet. The silence will tell volumes.

In the meantime, I will keep posting to this work of love called Wogsblog -- not for anyone, just for me because it is one of the pieces of the puzzle that keeps me going.

Fin

Stop Me if You've Read This Before

2007-09-09T17:42:00.000-07:00

Hi all!

"Too Much on My Mind", Ray Davies.

There's too much on my mind,
There's too much on my mind,
And I can't sleep at night thinking about it.
I'm thinking of the time,
There's too much on my mind,
It seems there's more to life than just to live it.

There's too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can say.
There's too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can do
About it,
About it.

My thought just weigh me down,
And drag me to the ground,
And shake my head till there's no more life in me.
It's ruining my brain,
I'll never be the same,
My poor demented mind is slowly going.

There's too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can say.
There's too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can do
About it,
About it.

There's too much on my mind.

Living in the Past with My Bug

2007-09-09T08:37:00.000-07:00

I have been driving the '72 Texas Yellow Bug much more than average this summer.

In 25-some years I have only put a few thousand miles on it.

This morning on the way to Mass I was reminded of a great old Mott the Hoople song which featured the inimitable sounds of a VW engine cranking up, revving and up-shifting and the ratcheting sound of the setting of the parking brake as that sweet, sputtery engine note died off. They got the horn wrong, but otherwise it was and is a great song.

It's called "Drivin' Sister Rock and Roll" and was written by Ian Hunter.


Eight-track machine playing 'Half Moon Bay'
Drivin' in my Volks down on Hamstead Way
Her mother got bust on a 88
And her brother got stuck on my number plate

Hey mister bartender won't you gimme some wine
I gotta get outta town, meet my baby on time
He put five gallons in my petrol tank
You know we just about made it but her breath sure stank yeah

Drivin' sister rock'n'roll
She's got feel on the wheel
Drivin' sister rock'n'roll
She don't make with no brakes

Drivin' sister rock'n'roll
She's an automobeat on the street
Drivin' sister rock'n'roll
She's much too much on the clutch

Drivin' sister rock'n'roll
She got her feet on the wheel
Drivin' sister rock'n'roll
She don't make with no brakes

I said drive, drive, drive, drive
And drive little sister drive
I said drive, drive, drive, drive
And drive little sister, drive on.

Cheers!

Right Said Fred?

2007-09-08T20:16:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

He ain't Reagan, but he's all we got.

The masses are asses and Fred Thompson is a perfect foil for Billary Rodham.

Quick prediction here, write it down. Once elected she will be President Rodham. Bet my life on it, which is a pretty conservative bet.

It's all about charisma, when you get right down to it. Fred has it, the dragon lady don't.

I pine, as so many millions, for another Ronald Reagan. Fred Thompson is not the second coming, but I honestly believe that he could save our country.

With a Queen Bitch at the helm and a lapdog congress, the future would be impossibly bleak.

Cheers!

Fate and Such

2007-09-08T15:01:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I have been pondering fate of late.

Tiny little confluences of innocent actions magnified by circumstances can really make a difference in a life, to say the very least.

I finished 2nd for a Fullbright Scholarship to Germany. The Fate of it was that I was an early loser in the new game of Affirmitive Action. My teacher/mentor/sponsor told me as much. They needed more women although I ranked better.

Instead I started a business and a family. Seemed like a good twist of Fate.

To save a long story, my Fate has twisted like a deadly tornado. Sometimes it's hard to appreciate all the good turns in favor of dwelling on the foundation ripping furies.

I'm not sure why I put this stuff up for all the world to read. Ego? Reaching out? Looking for sympathy? Maybe a combination of the three.

It's hard to live in a world of hurt all by oneself.

Thanks for your understanding and if you have any sort of Faith, put a good word into your Higher Power for me. God knows I need it.

Cheers, always

Full Moon?

2007-08-30T14:59:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Y'know, I haven't checked but I think the full moon happened a few days ago.

It must have been a humdinger, if the experiences of the last few days are any evidence.

I shall spare you 99% of the details in keeping with my new policy of avoiding posts where I describe the world as a dog and me being a fire hydrant.

An old client called out of the blue just lately and offered to take me to the BB King Blues dealy at the State Fair Grandstand tonight.

After the Suicide Commandos, I was well satisfied enough not to wish to trek back to the fair, but I guess I'll be forking over another $11 gate fee to see a concert for free.

Now if that doesn't sound like a super duper upper to YOU, than you are enjoying life more than me, but I'm not sure I envy you.

I take what I can get.

Cheers!

Cloud Nine

2007-08-26T21:04:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Well I saw the Suicide Commandos for the first time in 30+ years. They were awfully far away compared to the old days, but god damn they haven't lost a beat.

Fountains of Wayne were icing on the cake, but judging from the crowd response and my own total bias, the Commandos upstaged those youngsters.

To top it off, the fireworks were the best I've ever seen at the Fair.

Of course, the weather was perfect.

Last night I went on a bus trip to a dirt track race in Wisconsin. It was a long night and by this afternoon I wasn't sure I could overcome the fatigue to "be there" for my Commandos. Laid down and suddenly decided that I was gonna fight thru it and get to the Fair.

Now I am so pumped that I will have a hard time getting to sleep.

What a night. What a weekend. Life can be really good.

Cheers!

Jason Gets a Career Boost

2007-08-23T12:57:00.001-07:00

Hi All!

According to Rush, the Twin Cities' own bloviating talk show host Jason Lewis will be given the golden EIB microphone for a couple of days at the end of next week.

I wonder how he is gonna fit his head through the door at KTLK today!

Cheers!

PK

The Secret of Sparse Blog Traffic

2007-08-22T20:49:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

As I have said in the past, if you want to "get" my blog, read the quotes at the top of the page. Tonight a highly respected old acquaintance and newer friend told me he has a hard time reading me because he gets too depressed.

That may have been the icing on a cake that many others have built with their criticism of this experiment in existential, honest laying open of my life and my cynical opinions.

I have quit before, but I ain't gonna quit now. If you click on my grade school self-portrait you will see why my dad discouraged me from doing "art".

If you want Hints from Heloise or Stuart (Al Franken)'s daily affirmations, just go somewhere else.

Life sucks, mostly. Less for some, more for others. I fall somewhere in the middle. I REALLY DO face life with optimism -- I am convinced that I wouldn't be alive if I didn't grasp at the many straws of happiness that hover over me every day. Heck, my kid mowed the front lawn unbidden between monsoons.

Another kid hauled a crap load of books out of the basement at dumped them at Half-Price Books for the royal sum of $10. But we are rid of them. All the years of accumulated possessions stacked floor to ceiling in places like garages and basements could be wiped out overnight. Nature don't discriminate, so collectibles and keepsakes be damned.

When I read about people plunging to their deaths on a collapsing bridge or swept away by an invisible road wash out, I feel lucky and very selfish for wearing my hair shirt.

I am going to try to steer my blog toward sunnier climes.

Wish me luck.

Cheers!

No, I 'm Not QUITE Dead Yet

2007-08-21T19:15:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I don't want to go in the cart. I'm feeling much better. I think I'll go for a walk!

The worst thing about my malady is constant and overwhelming fatigue. Makes me sad and frustrated that when I am inspired to work my ass off to clean up years of accumulated mess, I can't even take a box up the basement stairs without having to sit down and recover.

Ah well...

Despite another symptom, "Brain Fog" I can still get around and I can still think and play trivia and write. I am starting to scare myself with trivia. I have been #1 in the nation twice this month out of thousands all over the country. Which profits me nothing except a feeling of pride and the belief that brain cells need exercise as much as the rest of the body.

I haven't written much because I have taken on the job of newsletter editor for my American Legion Club. A young fellow who was brought up using PCs does the desktop publishing work. I am but a hack wordsmith and cub reporter.

Here is an example of my work for the September issue. It's enough to make a liberal gag.

The Bright Red Shirt

I recently spent some down time enjoying the lakes and woods of NW Wisconsin. I happened to be proudly wearing my bright red Rosetown t-shirt one afternoon, when I stopped by a small tavern for a pit stop. There were about a dozen folks there and I got the typical once-over looks that one gets when a stranger shows up. I ordered a beverage and stared at the TV.

When my thirst was quenched, I was preparing to leave when a fellow a few seats away asked if I was "really" a Legion member. I affirmed that I was a SAL (Son of American Legion) and the ball was rolling. What had been a quick stop became a 3 hour non-stop conversation with a half-dozen folks with Legion ties.

Paul, a Vietnam vet complained that the Army supplied WWII C-rations to the soldiers in the field and told the story of how everyone learned to cram every available bit of edible food into their sacks while on base, because one deployed there were few that could willingly choke down those old C-rations. He was a member at Forest Lake and recommended the Hugo club for great food and drink. I told him that Rosetown isn't too shabby either!

Hal, a WWII vet, pointed outside to his mint 1958 T-Bird 4-door convertible. He was a member in Prior Lake for many years and finally sold the family farm for a park. With some of the proceeds he had invested $35 thousand to acquire his dream car. Unfortunately, his enjoyment of it was delayed when the car crushed one whole side of his body while being unloaded from the transport. Arm, leg, ribs and head were cracked. His fortune will likely increase when the lawyer is done settling with the shipping firm.

Terry said she had been an Auxiliary member at guess where? No place other than Rosetown, where she claims to have come for 40 years before moving north. I regret not having gotten her last name. I also met spouses and girl/boyfirends. I came away very happy to have shared so many great conversations, just as if I were at Rosetown. It was all because of my bright red Rosetown Legion t-shirt.

Cheers!

How to Annoy a Liberal

2007-08-21T18:00:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Why waste my talents preaching to the converted? My liberal friends should get a rise out of this, my front page story!

LEGION STRONG, LEGION PROUD

"An acquaintance asked me why on earth I would join The
American Legion. "Are you some sort of military nut?"
Well, if proudly and humbly associating with the men
and women who are living symbols of our defense of
freedom, I guess I am "nuts."

It is because of your sacrifices that America is the
bright, clear beacon of hope and freedom to those who
don't possess it.

I appreciate how much we owe to our men and women in
uniform today, as well as those who have already shed
blood for our freedom.

I have been most fortunate to have lived in times of
relative peace, when my service was not absolutely

required. It is because my forbearers fought evil in

both World Wars, Korea and Vietnam that I have lived
in relatively peaceful times.

Joining the Legion was a no-brainer for me. I wanted
to give something back, however modest.

It is up to all of us to strengthen our club by
spreading the word. If you know people who qualify,
recruit them to join or at least patronize the club
just as many of you were recruited to serve your
country.

Step up and promote your club. Invite your friends and
relations to visit us for everyday food and beverages
and especially our frequent and fun events. Recommend
our wonderful hall to anyone planning a reception our
a meeting.

Patronize your club. Volunteer for events. Attend
meetings. Above all, spread the word.

I recently invited members of the Roseville Issues
Forum, an internet-based discussion group, to meet at
the club. 15 people, including City Council persons,
the City Manager and other local movers and shakers
and opinion leaders were introduced to us for the
first time and I heard many complements and admissions

that we did not fit their preconceptions of a Service

Club.

Too many people think of our clubhouses as dark and
dank rooms filled with cigarette smoke and smelling of
spilled beer, populated by lonely old souls who sit at
the bar and stare into space.

We need to disabuse these people of this notion and
the best way to do it is to invite them to visit, Our
place is warm and welcoming. We need to get the word
out.

Don't hide your light under a bushel basket. We are
Legion Strong and Legion Proud. Don't take your club
for granted."

Take THAT, John Kerry lovers!

Cheers!

Synchronicity Rears Its Strange Head

2007-08-13T18:15:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I swear this is true.

A couple of ideas ago I thought of posting something about the timidity of the marshmallow tossing anti-war zealots.

I planned to compare their whining and ranting to the Buddhist monks in Vietnam who routinely protested the war by finding a busy intersection and immolating themsleves.

Now THAT's putting your money where your mouth is, I thought to write.

Today comes this story:

Yesterday a man took his own life by setting himself ablaze outside the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard in Kittery, Maine. Another man drove past the scene with his family and penned an account of what he saw--and what he imagined it meant--for the Portsmouth (N.H.) Herald. The Herald published the article without revealing the author's name. We pick up the story with the anonymous author's arrival at home in Eliot, Maine:

Shocked, filled with disbelief, overwhelmed, we gathered for a group hug in our yard. We had witnessed a self-imposed human sacrifice. I briefly told my family the stunning scene of the Vietnamese Buddhist monk who was shown on the front pages of every major newspaper and on TV. He had performed this same sacrifice, an effort to stop the madness, the killings, the abuse in Vietnam.

Was this an effort by this buddha of Kittery to stop the madness in Iraq?

Apparently not. WMUR-TV of Manchester, N.H., reports today that the dead man has been identified as Nathan C. Gagner, 27, of Kittery. "Family and friends said that Gagner had been suffering from depression." It's a sad story, of course, but at least it won't end in American defeat the way the Vietnam one did.

I dunno, maybe "prescience" is the right word. Scary.

Cheers!

The Thing That Just Won't Die

2007-08-08T09:08:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

At the risk of setting myself up for a fall, I can report that my appointment with the transplant doctor yesterday went very well...

Very well as in "little or no change."

I am still not sick enough to go on "The List" which is not necessarily a good thing. It is indeed ironic that you have to be at death's door to get a liver, while relatively (and I mean relatively) healthy candidates with better chances for a good outcome have to wait.

But that's the way it is. Supply is overwhelmed by demand so only the most critical cases have a shot at receiving a new lease on life.

I was told at least 4 years ago that I had mere months to live.

Since then, I have repeatedly been told the same thing.

I have shared this news with friends, family and others to the point that I am now sounding like the boy who cried wolf! Somehow the remaining bit of unscarred tissue is holding up beyond expectations.

For this I am obviously most grateful. My quality of life sucks but at least I am alive and in many small ways have accomplished things to help our household keep bumping along.

As with an old fan belt, that last bit of healthy tissue could go at any time. Meanwhile, barring that, I don't have to go back to the doctor until November.

Cheers!

Wild 35W Bridge Collapse Theories

2007-08-04T14:29:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

No, Bush and Pawlenty didn't plot it.

Why so few casualties?

4 out of 8 lanes were closed for repair, the two outer North and Southbound lanes were open, but there was nothing in the middle except the construction gear.

Therefore, the number of cars that could be on the bridge was half of normal.

What's more, traffic was slow and go. Imagine the scenario of all 8 lanes running cars through at 60-65mph?

Think of the chain reaction crashes behind the ends of the bridge if traffic weren't nearly stopped.

Think of the numbers of cars that would have flown off the edge.

Normally, without construction, at that time, the exit to Washington and the Metrodome would be slow and go, and all the other lanes would have been flowing at least 50-60mph, based on my hundreds of trips through there in that circumstance.

So, the bridge had perhaps 4 lanes pretty full of cars that were basically not moving much. Most rode the drop or managed to brake on the inclined portions of the collapse.

It could have been so so so much worse under normal circumstances.

Why Did the Bridge Collapse?

Way out on a limb on this one, but all the weight was on the far sides of the road, with the middle 4 lanes blocked for construction.

Dead weight, as traffic was crawling.

An imbalance?

Just had to post this to be able to claim credit in the unlikely event one or both of theses theories are shown to have held merit.

I have not to date heard them anywhere else.

Cheers!

There But For The Grace of God

2007-08-02T16:22:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Well you all know about the shocking bridge collapse. As just one of hundreds of thousands who have made hundreds or thousands of trips over that bridge, it is creepy to think that it was ready to fall into the river.

My oldest crossed it less than an hour before it dropped.

I have always thought how ironic it would be to die accidentally instead of by liver failure.

Life is dangerous.

Mr. Clean's Dark Side

2007-07-29T09:26:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Ammonia is a useful thing, for example, it is a great household cleaner.

Ammonia is a dangerous thing when your body produces but doesn't clear out.

Such is one insidious symptom of end-stage liver disease.

If I were not swigging a syrup called lactulose I would probably had at least one encephalitic coma by now.

The liver, among its many under-appreciated functions, purges the ammonia that naturally occurs in digestion. If the liver goes on strike, the ammonia heads for the brain rather than the poop chute.

Lactulose gives you, um, frequent watery stools but with each discharge comes the relief of knowing that you won't get too messed up in your head.

The doctor told me that if I forget to swig the syrup regularly, by the time I realize I am losing it it may be to late to avoid the coma deal.

So I thank God for this magic mead.

Even under control, there is no way to avoid the forgetfulness, light-headed dizziness, very emotional mood swings.

There was a time when my less coherent posts were alcohol related brain farts. I still write that way sometimes but the reason now is the encephalopathy. Or the occasional bowl of pipe weed.

I am on a liver transplant discussion group where it is comforting to find out that you are not alone, let alone insane.

A sampling of today's posts, although of a common type, compelled me to post this.

"I sometimes have a change in my ammonia levels. To be sure I stay
ok, I stay at home and DON'T drive. Plus,keep a calender with your meds and
mark when you take them so you don't repeat a dosage or miss one.
If you pay attention to forgetting,you will notice when you get
stumped as to what you were going to say,or forget the subject.
Good Luck & be aware....Shelby"

"Most likely others will notice a change in you due to high ammonia levels before you do. Jon would get vicious when he went high, and he would go high because he would give into his cravings for protein, not easy to keep a teen away from certain foods. But the TX team would always be available to help us when we called."

"You know you need to call the doctor about the ammonia problems. Sometimes they can creep up on you and you don't notice. Didn't they give you some pills to take back in November around the time I came to Florida that also helped when you had problems with ammonia buildup? Has Bill noticed anything different? Are you slurring your words again? I lost all the email addresses in my computer so I haven't been able to email you and you haven't written much to the group lately. Usually when you email me I can tell a big difference in your writing. Let me hear from you and make sure you get in touch with someone on your tx team."

This is another "Me Me ME" post. Sorry for the self-indulgence.

Cheers!

Storm at the Lake

2007-07-28T21:26:00.000-07:00

This shot was a predictive metaphor, perhaps for the days to follow.

Please Click to Enlarge.

Nice Trip to the Lake

2007-07-28T20:30:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I visited my folks for a couple of days and all the accumulated emotions, angst, happiness and hurts I brought home were dispelled by a lifesaver of a song I heard on the FM as I drove the last few blocks to home.

Somehow, it just made sense in a way that perhaps only I can appreciate at this moment.

There is so much to write about "Me Me Me" so I'll act out through Lou Reed's "Jenny", as in what the eff, to keep my emotions in check.

Talk about the right song to hear at the right time ...

Jenny said, when she was just five years old
There was nothin' happening at all
Every time she puts on the radio
There was nothin' goin' down at all, not at all
Then, one fine mornin', she puts on a New York station
You know, she couldn't believe what she heard at all
She started shakin' to that fine, fine music
You know, her life was saved by rock'n'roll

Despite all the imputations
You know, you could just go out
And dance to a rock'n'roll station
And it was all right, hey baby,
You know, it was all right

Jenny said, when she was just about five years old
`You know, my parents are gonna be the death of us all
Two TV sets and two Cadillac cars
Well, you know, ain't gonna help me at all`

Then, one fine morning, she turns on a New York station
She doesn't believe what she hears at all
Ooh, she started dancin' to that fine, fine music
You know, her life was saved by rock'n'roll
Yeah, rock'n'roll

Despite all the computations
You could just dance to that rock'n'roll station
And baby, it was all right, yeah
Hey, it was all right
Hey, here she comes now

Jenny said, when she was just about five years old
'Hey, you know, there's nothin' happening at all, not at all
Every time I put on the radio
You know, there's nothin' goin' down at all, not at all
But, one fine morning, she hears a New York station
She couldn't believe what she heard at all, hey, not at all
She started dancing to that fine, fine music
You know, her life was saved by rock'n'roll
Yes, rock'n'roll

Despite all the computations
You know, you could just dance to the rock'n'roll station

All right
All right, all right, and it was all right
Oh, listen to me now, it was all right
Come on now, believe me, it was all right
it was all right
hey, it's all right now,.......

Well, not really. But this is a hellofalot of a substitute for the post I was composing in my mind heading south on 35 tonight.

I try to write stuff down before I forget. Stuff happened that I will never forget, but I may not ever tell -- unless I decide to expose a horse's ass.

Whatever Happened To....

2007-07-27T16:00:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I have been thinking about all the chicken little scares and "big" trends that have been promulgated in my life. I will add to the list as I think more about it but I invite commenters to help me out, WOULD YA, COULD YA?

My archest critic has admonished my recently saying this blog is too much me me me. So here is a chance to be democratic and to solicit suggestions to:

Whatever Happened To...

The Population Bomb
Mutually Assured Destruction
The New Ice Age
The Fuel Crisis
Personal Responsibility
Disco
Ozone Holes
Silent Spring (DDT)
AIDS (I know, but the predictions were far more dire than needed be.)
Letting Lawns Go "Dormant" During A Drought

Ok, that's a small start. Please send me some ideas through comments or directly to me at kuettels@gmail.com

Cheers!

People with agendas have been feeding the gullible public such scary tripe forever, is seems.

The 100 Year Rainfall

2007-07-26T08:47:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Hard to believe that 20 short years have transpired since the mother of all rain storms drowned the Twin Cities.

We lived in a cute bungalow on Randolph near my old alma mater, Cretin High.

Although the house was on an elevation, we had nagging basement water seepage since we soon-to-be newlyweds bought the place in 1980.

We spent quite a bit to alleviate the problem and it was solved enough for us to finish the basement as my office/computer room (and believe me, a computer took up big room in 1986).

My good friend, blogger extraordinaire Mitch of Shot in the Dark relates his own nightmare of that July 24, 1987 night of endless downpour.

He got trapped on the freeway with a leaking ragtop Jeep and writes a good story about it as linked above.

Our experience was in-house.

The 21 inches of rain that fell in a few short hours was overwhelming. Water was literally shooting through the basement walls as if from a fire plug and the whole night was spent sucking water into the Shop Vac and running to the laundry room to empty it out and back and forth it went for about 8 hours.

As morning broke, the flow was down to a seep and we had managed not to let much water get into the newly finished office space.

Totally spent, we celebrated. We won!

I was so tired I couldn't sleep so I headed out into the beautiful clear morning to check things out.

The most lasting impression I have is standing on the Randolph bridge over what would some day become I-35E but was just a dirt culvert. It looked like the Mississippi. I'll bet one could kayak all the way from Jefferson to Shepard Road.

One year later at the same time and in our new home in Falcon Heights, the grass and shrubs were dying in the midst of a record drought.

Mother Nature -- Gotta love her. She do what she pleases to us puny little ants that crawl about the earth and worry that we need to put on hair shirts and sacrifice our economy at the altar of the unholy Church of Global Warming.

Cheers!

Beetle Bug'n

2007-07-25T20:09:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I've been giving my 36-year companion a good workout and detailing the heck out of it. The 20-something-year-old re-paint is starting to crack and craze a bit, but it still looks damned good and runs like a young colt.

Funny, perhaps, that I never named my Bug or given it a sex. The sex part is easy, as the German word for car starts with Der, as in "Der Volkswagen", not Die or Das, so cars are masculine.

Never was inspired to give it a name other than "The Beetle." That's what it is, a conglomeration of parts, not a "Herbie."

During my brief flirtation with the Mercedes, I could not help but notice that the instrument cluster illumination was lacking, which was a bit disconerting on a late night drive as I couldn't read me speed.

Last night as I tooled around with The Beetle it struck me that the simple little instrument cluster still lit up at night, by one tiny 36-year-old bulb.

Of the dozens of German cars (really, several dozens, believe it or not -- you can ask my family) There were always instrumentation bulbs that were out and a royal pain to replace.

A typical Merkur Scorpio has about 8 bulbs in it's large and comprehensive cluster. The oldest Merkur is a 19-year-old young adult compared to the middle aged Texas Yellow cute little bundle of go go fun.

Why did I remark at that last night? I wish I handn't 'cos tonight the bulb burned out.

If I was into symbolism, that would be pretty heavy, but I know how to replace it with a fitty-cent part that doesn't require dismantling the dash.

The simpler cars -- and life -- can be made, the easier the journey.

I don't regret losing that Mercedes...well, just a little.

Cheers!

PS. Click on the picture and get an eyeful -- I never know how these pictures will post but there is great detail and you can read a few interesting stickers -- note also the date on the license plate -- Minnesota let's you display the original year's plate once a car hits 30.

Conservatives Know How to Have Fun

2007-07-20T10:42:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I am excerpting a piece in today's WSJ by Stephen Moore:

"Echoing H.L. Mencken, humorist P.J. O'Rourke once quipped that conservatives are a group of stiff-collared puritans with a "haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be having fun." He should have joined me at the recent fifth annual Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms summer gala hosted by a right-leaning Colorado think tank, the Independence Institute, at a gun club in Kiowa, Colo.

This year's theme was "Stop the Growth of the Nanny State"--but it might as well have been "Live Free or Die Hard." Every activity seemed designed to annoy Hillary Clinton. There was a whole lot of drinking, smoking and shooting, but thankfully not in that order. During the morning hours, we carried nine-pound rifles through the woods, shooting pellets at clay pigeons flung into the air. By 10 a.m. the park was alive with the continuous claps of gunfire and hollering.

Many of the folks at the institute's, um, policy forum had come from all over the state to have a good time, sure, but they also had a deeper motivation: to stick their tongues out, figuratively, at the tyrant politicians in Washington and Denver who keep enacting rules about how they should run their lives. These people are just dog tired of having the government tell them what to do: Buckle your seat belt, wear your bike helmet, don't smoke, don't shoot, teach your 8-year-olds to wear condoms--and, most of all, stop complaining and pay your taxes. One participant was incensed that Denver now has a law requiring that every dog be neutered unless the owner gets a government permit allowing the animal to reproduce. On the left even sex is becoming taboo.

Then there are the more mundane rules. There was a discussion over lunch at my picnic table about how Congress is regulating nearly every basic household appliance--refrigerators, washers and dryers, toilets, hair dryers, shower heads, lawnmowers--to make sure that we are not, God forbid, wasting water or energy. A woman told me that she is stocking up on cartons of incandescent light bulbs, because soon it will be illegal to buy them. (The poor lady insisted on remaining anonymous so that the light-bulb police don't come to search her home.)

The buzzword on the left nowadays is "tolerance" for those with different lifestyles--like cross-dressers--but almost everything that these folks want to do, liberals won't tolerate. One smoker lamented that if "gays were discriminated against today the way smokers are, there would be an uproar." Gun owners have reason to be fearful too. In a recent blog interview on Moveon.org, John Edwards of North Carolina proclaimed that health care, child care, a livable wage and a clean environment are "rights," but owning a gun is a "privilege." The men and women who gathered in Kiowa would like to send him a copy of the Constitution.

I'm not a smoker or a gun owner, and not much of a drinker, other than at Margarita parties. But, as Mae West once cracked, "Sometimes I don't drink so the next day I can remember having fun." The gathering in Kiowa was pure joy--and I suspect that if liberals would loosen their puritan collars and start showing real tolerance of conservative "alternative lifestyles," they'd be having more fun too."

Mr. Moore is a member of The Wall Street Journal's editorial board.

A Worse Than Average Day

2007-07-18T19:12:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I don't mean to make this another "The world is a dog and Wog is a hydrant" story, but Godfrey Daniels, this day has been a right sledgehammer.

I may flesh this out later because I am blocking out quite a few incidents.

For now, "in the mood" so it seems, I will recount just a few slings and arrows.

Everyone has days where nothing goes right, so I don't pretend to feel special.

An unexpected tuition balance of about $3000 was brought to my attention by a student who doesn't read his UofM email. Pay up by 8/1 or fall registration is canceled. Worse, the bill includes $367 of "Student Medical Service Fee" which is in error, as the student is covered by the family's insurance. In any case, we live so much hand to mouth that even $2633 kills.

The latest unexpected and un-budgeted and mechanic screw job needed to be picked up from a shop many miles distant. I was able to prevail upon an available offspring to drive me out there to pick it up. I had already bent over and taken it in the checking account yesterday so we just needed to get it.

I forgot the keys.

Ho hum.

Another offspring made off with mom's car, the only air-conditioned vehicle in the fleet, to go to work.

Mom and aforementioned available offspring had to drive to the work site to swap cars with my pride and joy -- the primo, darned near collectible one. The thought of it sitting all day in Rosedale's parking lot added to my already spiking anxiety and frustration.

But mom needed her cool car to ferry the third offspring to tennis lessons and friends houses and grocery shopping and the stuff moms do in their ubiquitous late model generic white GM sedans with a cruising temp of 60 degrees or less on full A/C, cocooned with all windows shut tight and KS95 spewing out boring crap MOR mom music.

I retreated to my furnace room retreat and tried to compose myself. The PC had become almost completely buried in stacks of urgent papers and such, so I dug into the pile, determined to pay some bills and settle some disputes and recycle some paper.

As modern suburbanites, we of course have the much vaunted "Central Air". There is a pump attached to the furnace that expels the many gallons of condensate that accumulate during hot steamy days like today.

The water is forced overhead through a copper pipe and travels the length of the basement along the ceiling to the laundry room where the drain is located.

I had simmered to a slow boil as I distracted myself shuffling through the "Pile of Great Urgency" when the pump kicked in.

A pinhole leak in the copper tube right over my head let out a fine stream of condensate on me and my computer and my work.

At this point, I started laughing hysterically.

The absurdity of my life in general and today in particular was embraced and accepted.

I calmly waited for the pump to stop, dried off the pipe and wrapped the afflicted area with a few yards of duct tape, which helpfully was hanging from the pegboard behind the desk.

A minor but important victory.

With uplifted spirits, I paid some bills, cursed out a few customer service reps and wrote a few nasty letters to unfair creditors.

Things were turning around.

At noon, I had my first meal of the day, some old chicken soup I made a week ago that no one else would touch, and a half bologna sandwich.

Thus sated and feeling spent, I succumbed to the temptation of attempting to pull off a "power nap" which always ends up in my awaking after supper.

I changed into a fresh pair of shorts and a clean shirt and collapsed on my back into the welcoming queen bed, folded my hands over my huge, gelatinous gut and started to blank out.

But I couldn't.

Whether is was the pissed-offedness of the bad stuff or the encouragement of the small achievements, my endorphins kicked in and I launched my considerable frame from the demon temptress queen.

When I need to attack a hopeless mess, I needn't go far in my house. I chose to take on the garage -- why chisel away at something in the nice air conditioned domicile when hot, sweaty work with lots of moving heavy boxes and stuff around was beckoning my growing insanity.

I got a bit dizzy and remembered that I had forgotten to take my morning meds which prevent my poor brain from going all encephalitic from the ammonia buildup that my liver can't filter out anymore. My doc once warned me that once I realized I was getting light headed and confused, I could be minutes from a coma.

A couple of pills and a big swig of Laculose got me back to reality and I went after the mess in the garage with a determined, yet controlled vengeance.

Then it got really dark all of a sudden and rained like hell. The car windows and sunroof were open, so I got an my second shower of the day, but this one was much worse than getting peed on by a pinhole leak in a copper pipe.

It should air out in a week or two.

Last week I brought my '72 Bug home from it's pole barn home at the lake for it's summer exercise.

I had accomplished what for me is a lot so I thought I'd reward myself with a short Beetle ride to HarMar Mall for a game or two of trivia and some fitty-cent chicken legs at Buffalo Wild Wings.

The storm had abated, but I encountered some serious puddles on the half-mile trip. When I pulled into the shopping mall from busy County Road B, I was confronted with the sight of some poor sucker who thought his fancy faux-Mercedes Kia could get through a deep river, like the horses in the old westerns who forded streams.

Those of us old enough to remember will know that VW Beetles float. Too bad Ted Kennedy wasn't taking Mary Jo home in one of them, but I digress.

Since the entrance was blocked by a drowned Korean jalopy, I was force to back out onto a very very very busy street.

Everyone stopped for me and let me out. The Beetle Cuteness Factor worked it's magic.

Found another way into the lot and played a couple or rounds and chatted up my favorite waitress and headed blissfully home.

Remember that car that needed picking up but I forgot the keys?

Well the urchin who had my prize Scorpio was done with work so I prevailed upon him to drive me out, keys in hand, to pick up the other Scorpio.

Unfortunately, he had left the lights on and killed the battery. I calmly planned to jump start it with the mom's car.

Now where the hell or those jumper cables?

At this point, I am so beyond feeling that I simply drove to where he was, picked him up and took him to get the car. My PP could be jumped later or perhaps the battery would recover after a time.

As long as I was out in Vadnais Heights, a visit to my favorite trivia venue was in order. A cranberry juice and a HamDog (a specialty of this place combing a dog wrapped in a burger -- it is better than it sounds) and a couple of weakly played rounds and some depressing Twins-Tigers watching, and I was ready to head home.

I got it in my mind that I REALLY had to hook up the old turntable to my modern media center and play "It's Only Rock and Roll." It became an obsession. I couldn't wait to get home.

Then I got home and the PP car is still dead and there isn't any shelf space for the turntable and there is a dry furnace room with a computer and some stash in the drawer and so I started writing this.

And now I am stopping.

Cheers!

Hanging Out With the MOB

2007-07-16T20:03:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Shy guy that I am, I managed to screw up the courage to head to Keegans Irish Pub's outdoor patio last Saturday to stick my nose into an informal gathering of Minnesota bloggers great and small.

I got there earlyish and camped on a stool with a great vantage point for enjoying the show.

The primo location and my ample heft figured to exert some gravity on the assembled worthies, and indeed I met a few really great people. I am not gonna risk leaving anyone out by naming names but Speed Gibson bought me a libation -- and THAT's something a guy like me remembers!

The power tables were toward the middle where many local and national blogging celebs could be found smoking expensive cigars and radiating brain waves that almost hurt my own head!

I won't expound much more except to say that it was a great evening and it was nice to see and perhaps be seen and converse with the variegated members of the loosely organized, but very vital Minnesota Organization of Bloggers (the MOB).

Others have documented the event more thoroughly in words and pictures. Rather than do a bunch of links, one who might want to learn more could do no better than starting with Mitch Berg's "Shot in the Dark"

A nice photo montage gives a great overview of the event.

Cheers!

Queen, Hunter, Ronson, Bowie On One Stage?

2007-07-14T14:27:00.000-07:00

Hi All

It's been a remarkably uninspiring, disheartening week. So I spent an afternoon seeking solace on You Tube and found this neat video from the Freddy Mercury Tribute.

Several of my "Rock Gods" on one stage -- oh. and Joe Elliot from Def Lepard is there singing backup too.

A damned good performance of a damned fine tune. It you have high speed and 5 minutes to spare, it's kind of neat, even if you aren't a fan.

If you don't know, you can press the pause icon "II" to give the videe awhile to load up, else it is choppy and icky.

Cheers!

Last Prince Post for Awhile

2007-07-13T15:32:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I heard "Let's Go Crazy" on the Muzak at the store today. Ain't no comparison to seeing it live. Music still rings in my ears 6 days after.

A friend with primo seats got a snapshot with his camera as Prince walked out to one of the little platforms on either end of the stage.

It is published here. Hope I don't hear from the lawyers.

Cheers!

Greatest Concert Ever on 7/7/07

2007-07-08T08:21:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I ain't talk'n about that joke called "Live Earth."

The alivest part of the earth was Minneapolis yesterday.

The little one and I arrived downtown at about 7:45 for the 8:30 show at Target Center.

We walked up to the doors and were told that we couldn't come in just yet. For the next hour an more, thousands lined up in the 95 degree heat and waited.

Not for me!

We went to Gluek's and enjoyed cold beverages, being mindful not to consume too much liquid as it would be no fun to have to "go" in the middle of the show -- especially up in the nose bleed section were our $80 tickets put us.

Went back outside. Bigger lines, limos, sirens and I even ran into Sid Hartman on Hennepin -- even HE couldn't get in early, maybe, else he was waiting to be shown to Glen Taylor's luxury suite. I greeted him and he grinned a bit and quickly turned away with quick "Thanks." I think I frightened him with my long hair and beard and large frame.

We next went to Butler square and sat in Champps for awhile and then on a bench in the lobby.

The doors finally opened at about 9:00 (concert scheduled for 8:30.

We out the window in air conditioned comfort and watched the endless line of mostly middle-aged white folk slowly march toward the doors.

When the lines were gone, we crossed the street and walked right in.

Thankfully, the A/C in the Target Center was amazing. I'll bet those Live Earth people would have a cow thinking of all the energy it took to keep 15,000 bodies cool!

We scaled up the side of the mountain to our near-the-ceiling seats.

It is SO steep and SO many steps, you can imagine how I huffed and puffed.

To worsen matters, we picked the wrong side of the row and had to try to maneuver the six inches of open space between the obviously put-upon fans that had to make way for my round frame. I had a slight dizzy spell and so damned near toppled into a fatal freefall but caught myself on the next row of seats. Our friends did nothing to help me get back up and into my seat.

After all the aggravation, we settled in and waited. The show started at 10:10, only 100 minutes late.

About thirty seconds into the show, ALL was forgiven and then some. Holy Shit!

I'll leave it to others to review in detail. All I can say that no superlative is adequate to describe the 2 hour show.

We waited for the crowd to disburse and called the eldest son for the ride home. No problems.

On the way out we each got a decent size bottle of Prince's new fragrance, "3121"

I doubt I will use my bottle. Made a nice gift for the wife, and the little one already reeks of it.

What a strange little man. What an incredible entertainer!

Cheers!

A Princess Finds a Prince

2007-07-05T10:39:00.000-07:00

Hi all!

A child known to me is about to turn 15 and is a rabid fan of a crusty old fossil of a locally born and bred pop star who is damned near as old as me. I have been a rabid fan as well -- since 7 years before she was born.

I keep deceiving myself with the old saw, "You're only as young as you feel."

Well, she got an envelope with a touching fatherly letter and a gift certificate to Davannis Pizza and Hoagies.

Oh, and a couple of ducats for her and me to see.... PRINCE!

I kept the secret for a month -- got the tickets pre-sale via a little known(?) internet site that charges 4.95 for a password that you can use with Ticket Bastard to access a certain section of seats. The password cracked me up. Get this. "PURPLE". Gosh how imaginative!

About 2 honey bees later the precious Target Center Nosebleed Section tickets arrived and since I was a fool and told my wife, we started having conversations about when to present them and how.

We are both the worst secret keepers in the world.

She really wanted to do it a couple of days ago, but I held off until this morning after I had spent an hour on the tennis court coaching her (I used to be quite good at the sport a long long time ago when there was still plenty of tread on the tire).

Venus and Serena have nothing to fear, but my little Chrissie Evert has a decent serve and a respectable two-hand backhand. The forehand is best left unmentioned. Two out of three ain't bad.

The timing was great. Now she has almost three full days to tell all of her friends and to perhaps lose some sleep.

There is no greater joy for a parent than getting that perfectly honest and emotional reaction to a gift given to a deserving child.

My youngest is a Princess, Prince Rogers Nelson is Prince, Wog is King!

At least until Sunday morning with the music still ringing in our ears and dirty dishes in the sink.

Cheers!

A Happy Fourth

2007-07-04T23:10:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

What better place to enjoy this holiday with people who know what it's all about?

Spent the evening at the Legion.

There is so much I want to write about -- book length.

But I caught myself navel gazing as I prepared to spew forth and wisely, I think, will tell the tales on further reflection.

Cheers!

A Courtesy Call from the Star Tribune

2007-06-26T08:28:00.001-07:00

Hi All!

I will confess up front that I have sat on a past due billing from the Strib, procrastinating as I tried to justify paying about $60 for 13 weeks up from a $22.75 intro rate (ed. note: based on memory, will clarify when invoices are dug up.

I have procrastinated so long that I owe them north of $100 and they still deliver the bird cage liner that is irresistible to quit reading. And reading the paper on the web vs. sitting on the throne or at the breakfast table or at a restaurant or on the deck is a no brainer, except what the pleasure costs.

I have taken the Pioneer Press and Dispatch in it's various incarnations since I got moved from home, where the morning and evening papers were ingrained in my everyday life and were eagerly devoured since I learned to read. I am not ready to give the PiPress up.

I have taken the Strib on and off as promotions occur. Admittedly there is a lot more meat on it's bones than it's weaker competitor but the new management is starting to race that competitor to the bottom, to the point that they hired away key PP staff that was responsible for sinking THAT ship into mediocracy.

Well sir, the young fellow on the line was polite but firm. "Give me your Credit Card number and we won't cancel your subscription". Whoop dee DO and hot damn!

"So, what sort of customer retention deal you got running these days? "

"I cannot offer you any promotions, sir. I only need to have you pay your account to continue your service. You don't even have to call Customer Service."

"I think I'll call customer service."

"Let me talk to my supervisor (2 seconds pass). Sir, I must demand payment."

"So you are a collection agency?"

"No sir, this is the Star Tribune."

"Well, you can't have my credit card number or my bank account number. I am calling customer service. Thanks for reminding me to take care of this."

"Ah sir ....SIR?"

I clicked him off.

I am totally guilty of getting something and not paying for it, and I will settle up. But if I don't get a screaming deal from customer service, I shall reluctantly scan the rag on the web.

If I had an incontinent bird, I might still subscribe. But I ain't got no dirty bird.

Cheers!

And So It Goes

2007-06-25T23:44:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

It is with a heart both heavy and light that I must report that I let the Mercedes get away. My neighbor broke his word at the same time that I was moving away from this "sure bet" investment.

My emotions have been on a Valley Fair roller coaster ride since Saturday when he yanked it away and sold it instantly.

It WAS a steal. A SCREAMING deal. I always wanted one. You only live once. I might not have much time to live, so why invest money I don't have that buys a 100% instant appreciation?

I guess I had a rare "mature" moment when I hesitated long enough to queer the deal. As a total car nut, I had to sell my first new car when the second son arrived. 12 years, 20,000 miles, perfectly preserved Scirocco Champagne Edition. Invested $10,000, realized $4000.

On my birthday the next year, what should I see when driving past Roseville Auto than my concours baby completely totalled and awaiting a the extaction of an intact 20,000 mile engine which was probably worth $2000.

That car would be worth quite a bit more today.......

So I tried to make up for it with the XR4ti Screamer. Bought it for my birthday, put 12 miles on it and if you have read this blog you will know what happened.

The 1974 MB 450SE was my last best chance to own a classic. I am feeling more and more relieved that I didn't take it on, given my circumstances. Dammit though, I am starting to become what I hated when I was young. One of my favorite lines from The Who is "Hope I die before I get old." Too painfully true.

Speaking of which, after a down week I have had an up week, energy wise. It's at times like this that I feel immortal again, and I reflect with satisfaction having survived several years of hearing "You have about six months..."

It's at a time like this that reminds that you have a mint 1972 Beetle in which you learned to drive at 15, passed the test at 16, racked up enough stories to fill a book that is begging to be written ... stories that continue to this day as I have almost convinced my 14-year-old baby girl to give it a whirl on the back roads of NW Wisconsin.

That cute little bug is a part of me and I cannot believe that I fathomed selling it. I think I may put a clause in my will that it will be kept in the family in perpetuity.

As to Cate, who is quite experienced with the Scorpio with automatic tranny, Vegas has prohibitive odds on whether she will pop the clutch and kill the engine for the first so many times. Over/Under? I'm pegging at 6 (which would be pretty good) I'm going over. You can place your bets via Paypal by visiting my family website and navigating to "donations." So far, in 4 years, no manna has fallen from heaven.

During the Carter years, I was one of those who worried that the monetary system was on the verge of collapse, so I bought 10 gold coins and a silver brick in case I needed to buy a loaf of bread to feed my family.

To finance the Benz, I sold the brick at a nice profit (well not so nice for having held it for
24 years -- only doubled my money) and was ready to pawn the coins. My rationale was that having held on to this at such a lousy return, I could swap it for an automatic profit. "You can't drive silver and gold" was my justificational excuse.

Now I say, "Gold doesn't cost noth'n to own". Sure, you can't drive it but it don't use gas, require maintenance and take up valuable driveway space, we being a 5 car family already, and on and on.

And on and on this went.

So it goes.

Watch for Part II.

Cheers!

Noise

2007-06-23T17:39:00.001-07:00

Hi All!

I am coming back to earth after a long and interesting week. What better way to relax than to mail this in with a band I am currently digg'n.

The Noisettes. Can't believe that name hasn't been taken before.

It feels like a visit to the Turf Club is in order tonight. Gotta unwind, y'know.

Cheers!

Dining on My Whining

2007-06-20T07:40:00.001-07:00

Hi All!

I have been singed by a few flamers regarding what they interpret as me feeling sorry for myself.

As I say at the top of my blog header, stealing from Eric Burdon and the Animals, "It's my mind and I'll think what I want. It's my blog, and I'll write what I want."

But part of me knows these anonymous flame throwers have a point. I shall try to be less self-pitying and more, "up beat."

I would share these types of "compliments" but I ain't into feeding no trolls.

Cheers!

A Posthumous Post for a Long Draft?

2007-06-19T11:04:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Fear not. Unless I crap my liver out or get hit by a bus, I am very much invested in living as long a life as I can stretch it.

I don't know where to start about what a whipsaw last 10 days I have survived. Incredible coincidences, painful personal issues, health (as always) and all the rest.

Late last night and early this morning I started pouring out the true and detailed painful details of my misdeeds.

With uncharacteristic restraint, I saved it as a draft instead of pouncing on the "Publish Post" icon.

It is inspired by something I share with Senator Jim Metzen, President of the Minnesota Senate. His buddy lawyer got him off easy on a really obvious and stupid DWI (aren't they all?)
He is the best DWI lawyer in town -- doesn't even need to advertise - and is selective with referrals.

Metzen probably got pro bono advice from this certain DFL-activist lawyer, whose nickname rhymes with "Pogo." with a lot of Polish at the end of the real last name. I dare not say more for fear of getting hit with a libel suit.

My inheritance was hit for several thousands and I got not the slightest break from the harshest sentence prescribed by law. Total waste of money. For all his non-effort, I figured he made $1000/hour doing nothing to help me at all. I spend a year in hell and nearly lost everything precious to me.

In reading the draft, I am torn. Should I let it all hang out now or keep pecking away with instructions to my survivors to publish the stories or just let go? I know I should, but certain unbelievable incidents are permanently laser inscribed on my brain.

Funny how it is so much easier to remember the bad stuff and forget all the good stuff.

By starting to pour out the pain, I don't know if it will help or hurt, as I feel myself once again wildly careening down the road to Destiny. I never have been able to successfully negotiate the the sharp curve on the edge of the cliff, but like a bad penny, have always crawled away from the wreckage to sin another day.

This time I am determined to take a racer's line with proper braking, turning and acceleration out of that curve. I know I can do it, but I always think that.

I saw a commercial on cable last night that showed a grainy old film of a toddler carefully washing and waxing a kid-sized 70's era Mercedes SL convertible with silver paint and red interior.

Captivated, I waited for the punch line, which was, "You know you've always wanted one." Krikey! The Juneteenth synchronicity in the last 10 days. It was an ad for "pre-owned" Mercedes.

I am buying a near mint 1974 450SL sedan with silver paint and a red interior.

To pay for it, I have put my best friend in life, my 1972 Beetle, on eBay and expect to get more for that than I will steal this Benz for. A 36-year relationship that I am willing to walk away from. You only live once and you can't take it with you.

This will be my penultimate auto purchase after over 60+ cars I have owned during my life.

But I thought that about the "Arrest Me Red" supercar I drove for 2 days and twelve miles before it was seized 3 blocks from home. It ended up with a police auction buyer who let it rot. I still know where it is, but I will never sit in those racing seats with racing seatbelts, short shifter, turbo, fire extinguisher, $2000 of ghetto blaster audio ............. Ah, just go HERE if you haven't done so sooner. More gory details there. At least I had it long enough to immortalize it in photography!

Is that all the coincidence that has happened? No, almost a sidelight compared with some of the other good and bad shit that I have been hit with lately.

One of my closest friends messed himself up on a dirt bike several years ago. This past weekend, his guts blew out and he has had several abdominal surgeries and should, but might not make it.

And all I have is a lousy case of cirrhosis.

Will the I finally nail the line and whip through this curve? Destiny will dictate the answer.

Cheers!

A Father's Day Gift to Myself?

2007-06-17T12:18:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

There 99 reasons why I should avoid stretching my limited funds to acquire this fine machine.

The ONE reason I want it, is, well, at this stage in my life and given a lifetime of slavering lust for such a creature:

Ah wannit.

Far from done deal, in fact it is parked in my driveway to cool down 'cos it doesn't want to start hot.

I'll keep ya'll posted.

Cheers!

Whoop de Doo! I'm Published

2007-06-14T09:13:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

There is feature of the Pioneer Press called Bulletin Board where readers tell their delightful stories about life in general.

I wrote them many times several years ago but stopped after never getting in.

Today, Thursday 6/14, I got in.

Not the greatest story, not my worst.

It is on page 7B under the title, "Accidents of Mirth."

Accidents of mirth

D.I.Y. Division (responsorial)

Wog of Falcon Heights: "I read with amusement the travails of The Old Woodchopper, who managed to screw up a shade-tree oil change. Many of us modestly gifted 'mechanics' share his pain.

"But there is something worse.

"I used to do the oil, change wipers and bulbs, even redo the brakes. I can still change wipers - one of the most difficult tasks this 10-left-thumber can perform. The lights are still no problem.

"I can also replace a battery - which, other than perhaps the awkwardness of the location and the weight of the battery, is really a no-brainer.

"My kid's car needed a battery. I purchased the appropriate replacement at a large discount store that rhymes with Wall Art. I had some other shopping to do, so, I naively thought, well, as long as it's free, I will let the Certified Automotive Technicians install the thing.

"After lots of info was gathered, from my birth date to the Vehicle Identification Number, and a second-guess on the battery I had plopped on the counter (gosh, I had the right one! Duh!), I was told the project would take anywhere from 15 to 20 minutes. Well, I could do it quicker, but why bruise my own knuckles and soil my own hands, let alone risk being bathed in battery acid?

"This was 11 in the morning. All the bays were empty, and I watched the car get driven in. Thus assured, I took to shopping - which is why they keep your car longer than necessary, knowing that you will buy more stuff than you came for.

"I bought more stuff than I came for, including things I didn't even realize I needed until I was drawn to the clearance signs scattered throughout the store.

"At 11:30, I hiked the half-mile back to the auto center to pick up the car.

"They hadn't gotten to it.

"I changed the waiting-room TV from infomercials to a golf tourney and settled into a less-than-comfy plastic chair.

"At noon, a Certified Automotive Technician entered the area and asked whose car was the 'Scorpion.' It's actually a weird German car called a 'Scorpio' and is somewhat exotic, but the battery replacement is pretty straightforward ... if one can get the hood open.

"The CAT had thrown in the towel. I was allowed into the shop to show him the release lever, which is bright red, 3 inches in width and located on the underside of the steering column.

"Having shown the CAT the procedure, I thought that my waiting time was almost over.

"I did some more shopping and returned at about 12:15. I gazed through the window to observe not one but two CATs huddled under the hood performing what seemed as complicated as a liver transplant.

"At 12:45, I was relieved to have paid, and the car cranked right over!

"Now, a day later, I might dare to open the hood and see how badly they mounted it.

"Moral: If you can D.I.Y., D.I.Y."

Cheers!

Report from the Rosetown Legion Steak Fry

2007-06-13T09:33:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

In addition to my blogging duties I have volunteered to help out with the Post 542 newsleter as a roving reporter. I know it's pretty lazy to plagiarize myself by using such filler in Wogsblog, but perhaps it might provide some simple entertainment for the masses who have stumbled across this courtesy of a link from Mitch Berg.

Here goes.

It’s a nice Saturday afternoon in June. I am perched at the corner of the bar – the busy corner by the pull tab booth.

Kenn is getting the big gas grill fired up. Tony and Jeremy are holding down the lightly attended bar – the steak crowd hasn’t started gathering yet.

The Fry is supposed to start in 15 minutes at 5:00. Surely once the prime beef flesh starts hitting the grill the aroma will attract customers like bees to honey.

There’s Olga running around like a spring chicken making the setting up the inside operation. Her surgeries would seem to be pretty well healed.

Here is Denise, always there when needed in the kitchen or wherever else she find something to volunteer for.

A large family group of a few generations are out on the patio with Grandpa, who had just attended the WWII Memorial Dedication and was proudly showing off his beautiful new commemorative medal. He served on what I think of as a hardware store but was once the name of proud and very dangerous ship to live on, the USS Menard.

I spent some time being regaled with war tales of the Menard, how the veteran had been on deck for both the commissioning and decommissioning. I think the ship was a transport for troops, tanks and landing craft and was quite vulnerable to being sunk with a torpedo hitting the right spot in the spine of the front and back heavy craft.

Alas, the details escaped me as well as this fine old soldier’s name, but perhaps some readers will know just who I am writing about.

I left him to be with his kids and grandkids and went inside to refresh my beverage. I’ll be darned if I didn’t see that my luck “Free Drink” number “1” was up. What a break, as I never remember to look up there.

I will pause here to note that I didn’t do a great job of scribbling down names and I have absolutely no talent for remembering them.

There was a familiar lady of the Auxiliary sharing stories at the bar. Curious about my scribbling in on my steno pad, I explained that I was a cub reporter for the “new” newsletter.

I heard that Donnie was buried that day. I’m not sure I ever met him, but he sounds as though he was a great man. I guess Donnie didn’t like to gamble because he said he only won every 14 years!
I also learned of a mystery recipe for am awesome marinated radish that appeared on the share-a-dish table. Everyone who tried it wants the recipe but to this day the mystery Chef remains just that. I will have to watch out for that dish this 4th and catch the culprit.

Stopped on my way back out to the patio to share a little chat with a couple of my better friends whose names I naturally can’t ever remember. It drives me crazy that everyone seems to call me Paul and all I can reply is “How’re ya doin’, you!”

Learned of a rare stand of virgin timber in North Central Minnesota called “The Last 40 (acres)” To get there you go through Deer River on Hwy 46 past Squaw Lake for 10 miles to Dora Lake. See? I CAN take notes!

The steak fry was going well and Kenn was supervising the grill so I ordered a couple of delicious frozen pizzas to go and prepared to head for the barn.

Kenn caught me trying to slink away and asked if I would man the grill while he picked up someone at the airport. So I got to be a big shot, giving sage cooking advice to the steak grillers, adjusting the flames and even cooking one for Jeremy. He gave it the thumbs up and I got my next cranberry juice in a tall glass at the small glass price.

Cheers!

The Return of Laura Billings?

2007-06-13T07:49:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Warning: a bit of mean-spirited and opinionated writing to follow. Sorry, sometimes a guy just has to vent.

A bit of local inside baseball here, so don't worry if you haven't a clue what I am writing about today.

In reading a column in Section B of the Incredible Shrinking Star Tribune, I was struck by it's resemblance to the screeds of Laura Billings, the best fire the Pioneer Press ever made. Well, they bribed her to quit anyway, and the readers rejoiced.

It's some self righteous blather about troglodyte Republicans plotting to get sex education out of the schools.

The subject, the hysteria, the condescending wise ass tone, the mediocre writing and the utter boringness of the piece had Billings all over it.

The only thing Un-Billings about it was the byline, husband NickBoy.

It seems that Chief Nicky let his Squaw mail one in for him. What a lazy ass.

Cheers!

PK

Good News and A Simple Pleasure

2007-06-11T16:55:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

The last of a battery of pre-listing tests before it is decided whether to transplant me was performed today and I passed. It was a "Right Heart Catheterization" and it involves getting a camera into my jugular, up through the heart and into the lungs. The concept was far scarier than the mild discomfort.

This afternoon I tackled a conversion of the shifter on my kids "new" 1988 Merkur Scorpio with a 5 speed stick -- the only way to go with European cars.

I replaced the regular long throw shifter with a racing-type short throw shifter. Best way to describe the difference is, instead of Row Row Row the stick you can Snick Snick Snick the stick in very short strokes like Dale Earnhardt Junior. Tricker to drive but once used to it you never will want to go back.

Despite my 10 left thumbs in all things mechanical and my ability to screw up a two car funeral, we managed to sweat it out in the 90 degree 90% humidity (heh, being from Minnesota I LOVE it compared to the cold.

Finishing touch was a nice radical looking chrome and leather shift knob. No I guess he won't let me borrow it anymore.

I used to mess around a lot with my dozens of cars. It was fun to get back in the game.

Cheers!

A Bit of Housekeeping

2007-06-07T09:59:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I get bitched at a lot for embedding video in my posts.

My advice is, if you are still cursed with dial-up internet access, please DON'T click a video! Your PC might be tied up for hours as the databits saunter in single file over 100 year old copper phone lines.

Cheers!

The Fear of G.O.D.

2007-06-06T23:02:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Well I've managed to sink to less than 20 hits a day (heck I don't even get trollers from China much anymore) but I know my writings will make my kids rich once unearthed and edited. I have even taken the precaution of mirroring Wogsblog on two different PCs and wasting money on overpriced HP INK (and the libs think the OIL Companies are screwing us) to make good old fashioned hard copies.

As I struggle with trying to do right by my three rebellious teens, I have resisted, pretty much, using my end-stage liver disease as a guilt cudgel.

However, I just receive a new book called "Dadditude" in time for Father's Day and on first review, I have been "right" with my kids more than half the time in past, more so now. Of course, our relationships are at a low ebb, but I take comfort in knowing that it is not too late for disabusing them of the false impression that life is a carefree breeze. Drill sergeants don't have any problem breaking even a 21-year -old down and building back up. And my eldest is but a tender 19.

Not that I am gonna be daddy drill sergeant, but I am leaning more in that direction.

So I came up with the concept of using my hopefully not but likely too premature demise to lay on a wee bit of guilt. It is an easy concept to grasp, but will be hard to flesh out in practice.

I am gonna put the fear of G.O.D. in those urchins.

Ghost of Dad.

Gosh it's so tempting to just wake them up early every day and say, "(short quick breaths) "I think the sudden acute liver failure is finally happening and before I lapse into my coma I just I want to say goodbye. I will return as G.O.D. (hee hee!)

To be honest, I was diagnosed a couple of years before my catastrophic second DWI as chronicled in the Archives (look for a gap in 2004-2005) that would be hospital , treatment, jail, threat of restraining order, still drank after that until a bit into '06. (My "just average" little brother is a sober millionaire).

So I keep telling everyone that I am like a worn out fan belt that can go at any time, but somehow I open my yellow eyes and stubbornly drag my very tired and failing grossly bloated body out of bed almost most days (sometimes I just can't).

'Cos I gotta live to do the best I can to start each day as a new beginning in child rearing and trying to get into their muddled heads how they need to get a good jump on adult life. So inspired, and with a bit of self treatment with an illegal herb for the physical manifestations of Liver Gone Bad, on I go.

Will learn if I will be accepted for the national transplant registry in July. I've heard many anecdotes of people on the list who get excited to hear about car crashes and murders and wonder if they are the right blood type! I am an O, which is the most common and in-demand, hence the longest wait.

Maybe I will turn my stats around by posting more frequently (I go thru stages of wanting to quit and wanting to tell the world my "Lifestory"). Who knows -- some day I will get back to 30 good hits a day! Cripes, I give almost that many to Mitch of www.shotinthedark.info, who is admittedly WAY better a thinker and writer as he still has most of his generous brain capacity left. And to think that way back, I was just as good, and even better, but I decided to make money and drink instead.

Now, why did I just leave the room and come back and where the hell did I put those keys, and what am I writing about?

No luck on rooms and keys but I remember to say that I will tell me kids that the G.O.D. will haunt them all their days as they regret ignore the lessons he imparted that fell on deaf ears.

Cheers!

PK

Following Ancient Tradition

2007-06-05T07:31:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

When I was about 12, my dad let me practice driving on the back roads of NW Wisconsin on our trips to the lake.

By the time I took the driver test, in a not-so-easy-to-drive VW Beetle, the evaluator thanked me for making his job easy!

The Beetle has long since been restored and spends most of its time in storage at the lake, coming out for show and parades and joy rides through the woods.

I trained the first born son starting at 15. Started with an easy automatic Merkur Scorpio and he graduated to a 5 speed Audi Turbo Quattro (gosh I miss that car). He passed his test in a 5 speed Trooper.

The second son received similar instruction and never cottoned to a manual shift, but he came to the test similarly prepared.

It's a shame, now that they have been driving awhile, that so many of my admonitions go ignored, like having the seat back up enough to see over the dash, hands at 10 and 2, no smoking in my cars, putting on the seatbelt before starting the car, driving safe-aggressive not just aggressive aggressive, ad nauseum.

Today it is time for my little girl to get behind the wheel. A perfect day to head north to the old practice courses.

Call me sexist, but I am pretty sure this will be a far greater challenge than teaching the boys. She will probably end up following the rules that my sons have ignored or forgotten, but she couldn't even figure out how to ride a bike until she was 10.

I've stocked up on plenty of anti-anxiety medication.

For any of you who want to engage in this illegal bonding experience and are city-bound, take your urchin to a big cemetery -- great practice grounds and a lesson to not drive in such a way that you will be under a gravestone.

Cheers!

PS. The training went well -- she is a right natural but is a bit shy of oncoming traffic, but took to driving easier than the boys! I guess that makes me sexist. But she still can't do sports without looking like a girrrlll.

Look Out the Goddamm Window!

2007-06-02T15:16:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Welly welly well. Yet another day of dire weather warnings and scary radar images. As is most often the case, particularly in Falcon Heights, the radar and the warnings were dead wrong.

We got a bit of distant thunder, a sprinkle, and later a light shower. On the TV and Web all is end-of-world hype.

Why does it bother me anymore? Such has been the case way back when Ray Christensen would breathlessly warn us over the static on 'CCO to get gramma in basement. NOW!

We have no life here in Minnesota. The REAL warnings should be issued from the Capitol when the inmates are running the asylum!

So, Ian Hunter, all of 68 years young has just pulled a fantastic album (CD?) out of his bum.

It's called "Shrunken Heads." The only way most people would slightly recognize this incredible performer would be to say, "All the Young Dudes." If that doesn't click, fergitaboutit.

The guy, as with my Kinks, are the most under appreciated artists in the history of R&R.

(The Kinks at least got in the Hall of Fame, but so did Blondie. Yech.)

Anyway, risking my precious computer by working in the middle of the Storm of the Century, I transcribed Ian's very firstest Country Song.

Some day I will figure out to attach an mp3. You can find it on the net if you want to hear the song.

The lyrics stand on their own. I SO MUCH feel like this.

I Am What I Hated When I Was Young

Words and music by Ian Hunter

Well I don't follow any trend

I don't sulk for hours on end

I don't wanna reach out and touch someone

I am what I hated when I was young

I don't wear designer clothes

I ain't got pins in my nose

I ain't got a tattoo on my bum

I am what I hated when I was young

Poverty was a wonderful thing everyone enjoyed

We were eat'n grass not smokin' it

Wasn't like this when I was a boy

I don't rob old peoples' homes

I don't steal no cellular phones

I kinda like my mom and dad

I am what I hated when I was young

I don't holler, I don't hoot

I don't act like a nincompoop

I don't hide when the police come

I am what I hated when I was young

I'm slowing down, I'm getting old 'n my back is getting bad

I just sit and moan all day

Wasn't like this when I was a lad

Comb my hair, brush my teeth, wash my feet more than once a week

N I never leave my flies undone

I am what I hated when I was young

I'm the original mixed-up kid

I ain't proud of what I did

Now I'm older, calmed down some

I hate what I used to be when I was young

As so many of my personal "Rock Gods" defy aging, it inspires me to keep on keeping on.

Cheers!

Our Passionate Legal System

2007-05-31T12:42:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I know a poor fellow awaiting a liver transplant who does pretty much what this article describes. In addition to hellacious cramping, he is relieved of knee pain, nausea, peripheral neurtothapy (walking on red hot coals) and best of all, is more satisfying than the booze that got him where he is.

Despite significant conservative support, our fine governor killed a medicinal compassionate bill by promising a veto. I know him. The former Speaker of the House, the very conservative Steve, who made Tim Paw's political career, authored this bill and 70% of Minnesotan's polled support it.

The Bill went through 9 committees, passed the Senate and failed to be brought to the floor in the House due to the governor's promise. Of all the effing mess this session was, this rare good product did not get to the Governor's desk.

The Speaker and I are staunch conservatives. Too bad the governor and the District Attorneys and Law Enforcement that went into conniptions about "opening the door to a whole new batch of meth addicts via this evil gateway "drug." Sure would be cool if they pulled their heads out of their asses.

Anyway, here is a sad story.

Transplant patient tells court: I need dope for pain

31.05.2007

By COURT REPORTER

A Tauranga man awaiting a liver transplant has been fined $1500 plus $130 court costs after admitting growing and smoking cannabis to help relieve painful muscle spasms.

Brett Michael Ashby, 49, who runs his own contracting business, pleaded guilty to one charge of cultivating cannabis when he appeared in Tauranga District Court yesterday.

The court was told that during a police cannabis recovery operation on March 14, 10 mature cannabis plants were seen growing in a gully behind the rear of Ashby and his partner's Ohauiti property.

Police executed a search warrant at the couple's address and found six medium-sized and three small cannabis plants in individual pots in a steel shed at the rear of the property. Three light canopies were hanging from the ceiling to assist in the growing process and behind a black woven mat under a bench in the garage there was a polystyrene container with 14 small cannabis cuttings in pots. Lighting was also set up to assist the cuttings to grow.

A number of cannabis seeds were found in an envelope on top of a set of drawers in the master bedroom. Ashby declined to make any comment to police.

His lawyer Ned Burke told Judge Ian Thomas that his client had pleaded guilty on the basis that police and the courts accepted the cannabis was grown purely for Ashby's personal use.

Mr Burke said Ashby - who had a blood transfusion for a serious liver complaint some years ago and also took part in liver drug trials in 2001 which aggravated his health problems - now suffers muscle spasms. Ashby, who hoped to have a liver transplant in the very near future, had tried other medications but cannabis is the only thing that relieves the problem, he said.

Judge Thomas told Ashby that on this occasion he would accept the cannabis was for his personal use due to his medical history.

How very nice.

My friend says if he gets busted he will welcome prison time and let the state pay for his transplant.

Cheers?

Bratwurst Helper

2007-05-29T13:23:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

I think I have written on most topics, from light to heavy. I haven't offered any of my secret recipes so here is a real treat for you.

You need 2 fat, juicy brats, preferably fresh from a sausage maker. Johnsonville are glorified hot dogs, but they'll work, and a box of Pork Helper.

Gently boil the brats until cooked through.

Cut brats lengthwise - if it is pink in the middle, zap for 15 seconds in the microwave. (Incidentally, I have eaten hundreds of gently cooked brats without any unfortunate results.)

Put brats back together and cut crosswise into slim half-moons.

Prepare usning instructions on the box.

Try it!

Cheers!

Take

The Angry Left

2007-05-29T13:18:00.001-07:00

Hi All!

A kid shoots a huge wild boar. His dad sets up a website to share pictures. By and large, congratulatory comments are signed. The animal lovers are having a shit fit -- writing anonymous vile and hateful things about this poor kid, including death threats!

Its the pattern of the Angry Left. IMHO, Conservatives don't rage, they just get disappointed and try to do something constructive about it.

Need I list example after example? You all know what I am talking about. Lefties are like spoiled children who howl and whine and spew hate -- and that's all they do.

I am SO sick of these people. Get common sense, mellow out, get a sense of humor and advance contructive solutions. Fat chance for these Lefty Devils.

Still wishing all Cheers!

Fred Thompson Must See Video

2007-05-20T10:35:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

It seems me early adoption of Rudy for President was premature. If Fred Thompson jumps in, I will have to seriously reconsider.

This unscripted video dig at Michael Moore is great.

PS. It seems to have lost the soundtrack. I will try to rectify.

Cheers!

Speaking of Addled, Mean Old Men

2007-05-20T09:16:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Carter is a crude Bush hater. Garry K is manages to surround his hate with wry humour and sarcasm, and a waste of his estimable writing talents. Today's frothing in the Strib was particularly good -- if you appreciate good writing. The message sucked as it does each and every week.

I'd link to it but the Old Scout won't let the Strib put his writing on it's website.

I used to love the Old Scout in the days of his Prairie Home Morning Show, I have autographed copies of his first three best sellers.

I'd much rather read about Ole' spraying Yahooah sauce on a pesky squirrel.

Turns out the pesky squirrel has grown up to be bitter, grumpy old millionaire Garrison Keillor.

Cheers!

Carter: Bush Worst President Ever

2007-05-20T05:59:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Jimmah Cahtah is addled and befuddled.

The cranky old man epitomized the irrational hatred of George Bush by the lefties.

It best it was bad form.

At worst it is almost slanderous.

If Jimmah wants to see the worst president in history -- okay, I'll be nice and say -- in living memory, he need only see his craggy old mug in the mirror.

Time to put the bitter old preacher out to pasture.

Cheers!

Smoking Would be Permitted at the Disabled Veterans Rest Camp

2007-05-12T05:26:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

Yesterday was Minnesota's 149th birthday and the DFL brought many gifts.

The Senate passed a bill to let the voters decide whether to add 3/8 of a cent to the sales tax (.05 would be too obvious and understandable to the unwashed masses of asses that vote with crayons). I call this the "Wash Our Hands of It" bill. The legislature passes things that are too hot for to handle to the gullible voters in the form of a Constitutional Amendment.

Both chambers passed a Robin Hood bill to nail about 22000 rich folks to provide "permanent" property tax relief for the other 5 million of us. There were so many outright lies uttered in the House that I couldn't know where to begin.

A statewide smoking ban with a few odd and specific exemptions passed both chambers and Pawlenty will sign it. I have never smoked (cigarettes) but I feel sorry for the addicted. This will hit Veterans Clubs hard. Many of these old veterans and their spouses live to smoke, buy pull tabs and imbibe some cheap booze.

Ironic that the bill contains and exemption for exactly ONE disabled veterans' facility in Washington County.

Of course, casinos are untouchable as are Native American religious ceremonies.

More fun from the big, falling apart building on Rev. Dr. Marin Luther King Drive (try fitting that on a business card).

We got a transportation bill with a 7.5 cent gas tax increase (sold as a 5 cent increase but ramps it up in the next couple of years. I would gladly support this if it were dedicated to "TRANSPORTATION", ie. roads and bridges. But of course a good share of this new revenue stream will go to "TRANSIT". Choo Choo trains.

It was all a political "gotcha" game for the DFL as they know damned well that these bills will be vetoed, forcing a "Who will blink first", the Governor or the DFL. No one wants a special session. The weather is too nice and they don't get paid for overtime. The next week will be entertaining.

One bill I strongly support and have done a bit of citizen lobbying for, is the compassionate legalizing of medicinal cannabis. It has gone through 9 committees an passed the Senate on a close vote, with lots of DFLer's gutting out.

It will pass the House soon, by a decent margin.

It is co-authored by mean-spirited conservative Steve Sviggum.

Steve had much to do with getting Gov Tim where he is today. Gov Tim has sworn to veto it and there aren't nearly enough votes to override.

I'd at least think he'd let it sit on his desk and become law without his signature.

To the thousands suffering from chronic, fatal diseases who self-treat pain that is miraculously relieved by smoking a little reefer, nothing will change. In fact, the bill is so restrictive that these folks will ignore the law anyway.

But for the thousands who are too afraid, too worried about getting arrested, or just ignorant as to how much this gift from God can ease their pain, the bill will ease their minds and their pains.

So when he gets back from the Fishing Opener, TimPaw will delve into his box of veto pens and will prevent smoking bad stuff and good stuff. At least he's consistent.

Cheers!

Which Paper Do You Read?

2007-04-13T06:29:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

One of my expensive hobbies is subscribing to the two competing newspapers in town: The St. Paul Pioneer Press and the Minneapolis Star Tribune.

The editorial slant of the Pioneer Press is Left of Center, the Strib is damned near Socialist.

Other than the difference in viewpoint I get from reading both papers I often notice strange little things.

The front Sports page of both featured the Minnesota Wild's goalie getting hammered while the puck sits helplessly, waiting to be poked in for the win.

Both papers' pictures were, to my trained eye, absolutely identical but for cropping.

Same picture, two photographers. How can two different people from two different employers come up with the frozen instant in time? Amazing. And what are the odds of both papers putting it above the fold?

I have captured the Minneapolis picture -- I need to link you to the St. Paul photo as I can't capture it. The picture is the second one in the slide show.

My dauber is still down but Spring holds promise of starting to cheer me up. Am advancing to the liver transplant list with a summer-full of appointments for tests, etc.

Cheers!

MIA

2007-03-27T14:45:00.001-07:00

Hi All!

The good news is that I am not in jail, treatment or hospital.

I'm blogged out for a host of reasons.

Famous Dispatch, Pioneer Press sports columnist Don Riley used to feature an occasional "easy" column, "cleaning off the spindle" where he would dump a lot of tidbits that had been spiked and recovered to fill column space. Don also had a regular "gunning from the catbird's seat" which he used to spout quick hits....bar talk stuff. Great stuff.

Laura Billings was famous for mailing in columns consisting of reader feedback with a terse comment appended. I think Riley did that too, now that I think of it.

I have started anti-depressant medication after a couple of years of doing without. In a few weeks I might start blogging up a storm when the uptake inhibitors take hold.

For several weeks, it has been an effort to get out of bed and "DO" stuff. Well, other than getting the kids off to school this morning and this writing is what I "DID" today.

One thing that will never depress me is low hits on this blog. That wimpy Wog in Seattle gets more with his tripe - must be friends and relatives. Most of my hits don't come from friends and relatives. I get quite a few from the Far East, which means most of my traffic is from trolling scammers.

Well, if you have gotten here, and you are not a scammer, God bless you and spend some time in the archives -- hit and miss but I HAVE posted decent stuff.

The bottom line for why I do this is to leave some sort of written legacy for however few would be the least interested.

To end on a happy note, I think I am gonna buy my 47th Merkur Scorpio -- everyone else thinks it's a bad idea, but the trip to Detroit and the drive back might reinvigorate me and this wogsblog.

Cheers!

Profound Observation

2007-03-23T17:38:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

The absolute dirth of inspiration keeps my written expressions at bay.

As the end of a really bad overall week approached, I was struck by something written by a fellow blogger. I definitely could never say what I feel any better than this:

"Through the years, I've come to view serious and progressive illness as an ever constricting circle with oneself at the center. The interior of the circle represents the contents of one's life. As the circle gets smaller, things that were inside get forced out. Some of these things are dearly missed; other items that were once thought precious get forced to the exterior and turn out to go surprisingly unlamented.

At the innermost point of the circle are the things that really matter: Family, faith, love. These things stay with you until the day that you die. At the very end, because the circle has shrunk down to its center, they're all you have left.

But as we approach that end, we finally realize that all along they were what mattered most. As a consequence, life often remains beautiful and worthwhile right up until the end. The past several years for me have been a journey to what's at the center of my life. One of the things I found there that I didn't expect to was writing. (You lucky people.)"

Right on.

Cheers!

The Narcissistic John Edwards

2007-03-21T06:04:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

While I struggle to get over a rough mental and physical patch, here is a bit of comic relief. It gets good a bit after 1 minute into it.

Cheers!

Losing My Mind?

2007-03-15T08:58:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

One of the scariest symptoms of my disease is high ammonia levels in my brain, which, left untreated could lead to an encephalitic coma, but it's sneakier manifestations are light-headedness, absentmindedness, forgetfulness.

Thank goodness for Enulose, a strong laxative which flushes ammonia away. The frequent bathroom breaks are well worth it. The Minnesota Legislature is considering a "freedom to poop" bill where one with Krohns Disease, for example could carry a state-issued card that will compel businesses to allow the use of their private privies. Probably won't pass, but given the new wacked out Left Wing legislative majorities anything is possible, no matter how silly and needless.

Yes, I go a lot but I don't need special access to private water closets.

I guess it's a good sign that when I have my "episodes" I know what is happening and compensate by over concentrating and making lots of lists to jog my ultra-short memory.

While reflecting on this today, I was reminded that OLD memories are still mostly there. I hadn't listened to this perfectly descriptive 1971 song by Ian Hunter for many many years, yet the title, "When My Mind's Gone" sprung into my mind from my vault of useless trivia. It's a real downer, so find an upbeat post if you don't want to wallow in it with me. Here goes:

When my mind's gone
All I do is sit and think
And the days go by
I don't remember anything
And yesterday becomes tomorrow
And I can see the day after tomorrow
I can even see next year
When my mind's gone
When my mind's gone

And the time goes fast
And the shadows fly away
If this feeling lasts
Then I won't have to find a thing to say
What once was clean is now unclean
What once was straight is now unstraight
What once was free is now unfree
What once was cold is now uncold
What once was me is now not me
When my mind's gone
When both my minds gone
When all of my mind's gone
When my mind's gone

So I'll take my secrets
I'll take them with me to my grave
And if I'm taking yours
Then I will try to make it safe
There ain't nothing going right
There ain't even nothing going wrong that's right
And day is day
And night ain't night
And night is day
And day is night
And spring is summer
And autumn's winter
When my mind's gone
When my mind's gone
When my mind's gone
Everything's gone
When my mind's gone
When my mind's gone
When my mind's gone
When my mind's gone

Eco-Environmentalist Fundamentalists

2007-03-12T11:49:00.000-07:00

Hi All!

"Modern environmentalists sound like either Old Testament doomcriers or New Age missionaries, worshipping nature as if it were a wholly benign force, a veritable Garden of Eden threatened only by human snakes in the grass." Suzanne Fields.

Yes, the Environmental Movement has morphed into a new religion, on a par with Evangelicals. Of course, that's unfair to Evangelicals -- they share the God that most of us worship.

It's frightening how quickly such a huge number of otherwise rational people have flocked to this new altar. It shows how simple and malleable most of us are. Most people seem to like to be afraid of things. Sure seems as though that makes life unpleasant. Many fears are well-founded and valid. The Global Warming (GW) hysteria is a phenomenon cooked up by left-wing politicians and activist groups who are using the fear they've created to press their political agenda.

To me, that's scary.

I believe the research that illustrate the truly harmful unintended consequences of greenhouse gas reduction, such as great economic harm and human catastrophy in the Third World.

It is said that GW is "proven fact" by scientific consesus. Science is not a discipline that accepts consensus. Consensus is a political term. And the politics of GW are based on scaring enough simple folk to vote Democrat and increase their suddenly rising power.

At least a few regular readers will notice that I have periods where I am too sick, depressed or distracted to write. And when I force myself just to put out something new, like this entry, it's not very good. I apologize. Some days I wonder if my muse has left me for good.

Cheers!

Rap Meets and Reflects Punk

2007-03-04T09:24:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

I stumbled on a SNL performance by rapper Ludacris and the punk band Sum 41.

I first heard a ludicrous rant titled "Get Back" a few weeks ago on the radio. It surely wasn't the Beatles' version!!!

I pretty much abhor rap but it has crept into my faint favor when it blends with alternative rock -- like what the Gorillaz did so brilliantly.

In thinking about why this song hit me so hard is that if is reflects blunt anger. Like the rebellious songs of the British Invasion through Punk to today's blended genres.

This song got me because it made me think about a couple of people who I am well-acquainted with, a generation apart. A father and son. Two very angry rebels in their own ways. Neither are big actors-out -- they are penter-uppers.

For some reason, hearing a song like this provides temporary venting.

Ludacris and Sum 41-Get Back Live on SNL

Add to My Profile | More Videos

Here are the lyrics (not for the easily offended).

Cheers!

Love Her or Hate Her, This You Must Read

2007-02-28T16:51:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Ann Coulter wields an amazingly sharp pen.

This piece is at least entertaining, I don't care WHO you are or HOW you think!

I won't force it on you by reprinting here. But trust me, it is a rapier of wit and wisdom.

Teaser: "Windmills can't even produce enough energy to manufacture a windmill."

Cheers!

My History With Modems and Heavy Drinking

2007-02-28T14:43:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

I've gone out on a big limb by convincing my in-laws to move from dial-up internet to DSL.

As a cable internet subscriber of several years, this move is a baby step. They are getting supposedly 512K speed versus their dial-up which is typically 42K, so things should go over 10 times as fast. Still WAY slower than what I use, but plenty good enough for them, and half as expensive.

I got them set up with US Family which uses Qwest for DSL. The customer self-installable modem and software has arrived in the mail.

Tonight, "I'm goin' in..."

It should be simple, but for some reason, since about 1991, I have lost my knack for making computer related things happen without much head and heartache. This curse is especially strong when doing things I've recommended to older relatives -- I convince them to dip their toes in the frightening waters of modern technology and sit and scratch my head when it's time to install.

That REALLY gives them confidence (sarcasm). After confirming their worst fears with my ineptitude I deserve the extra "support calls" I get when the toaster doesn't brown as well or the TV remote doesn't work right a week after I sweated for an hour in hooking up a printer. Suddenly, everything that goes wrong points to me as a prime suspect.

It's at times like this that I don't wonder whether than my parallel career of heavy drinking has killed a bunch of brain cells. I guess the trivia storage area is the last to go, ''cos I still got that goin' for me, FWIW -- I mean, "for what it's worth".

I keep forgetting that saving bandwidth and "save a bit, save a byte" mentality that led to old internet acronyms like FWIW, IMHO and ROFL and "smileys" are more a way to show off your 1980 computer savvy than the need to save space in cyberspace.

From 1979 to 1995 and somewhat beyond, I made a decent living making computers and software do the impossible ... or at least, improbable. I could not only trick up the hardware but the software as well, and I worked damned hard and did amazing things considering that I was a business major with all of one computer class (FORTRAN 101 - that was REALLY useful -- not).

My first experience with the magical MODEM (Modulate/Demodulate) device was at the College of St Thomas in 1972. There were a few "dumb" workstations at the library and demand always exceeded supply. When I was lucky enough to get a chance, it was required to dial a number on a regular phone and listen for a whistle and quickly seat the handset into a dealy with double rubber cups. After a simple log-in procedure, I had some huge, mysterious compter at the U of M working for me, harnessing the vast power that is now contained the cheapest of watch calculators.

All of this power at the blazing speed of 300 bits of information per second (ideally, with a really clean phone line).

By the time I was in da data bidness a few of my bolder clients invested several large in circuit boards and software to work with the radical new Racal Vadic 300/1200, which, due to the breakup of Ma Bell's monopoly provided 4 times the speed as well as being able to work with the traditional 300 modems. These $2000 devices eliminated the acoustic coupler, plugging right into the phone line and able to be dialed with software.

My modem-enabled clients included legal and brokerage firms which needed access to remote main frame computers for case law lookups and securities quotes. However, that was not the main reason that all of my clients eventually were required to have modems, like it or not.

You see, I found that I could connect to my customers for programming work without leaving the comfort of my basement office. I sold a $5000 package that included modem, a communications board in the computer, software and setup. In light of how dreadfully slow 1200 and later 2400 baud was, the old mini-computers were totally text based. Fancy graphics consisted of making cleverly arranging regular typewriter characters -- later by graphic character extensions which allowed programmers to draw boxes and highlight input fields.

What I am trying to say is that considering what was demanded, 1200 was fine and 2400 was a luxury.

It was good for both my clients and good, but not quite as good to me to have this remote access -- especially those who were 100 miles away, let alone 10 miles away at rush hour or 1 mile away in a blizzard. No suit required, no driving, work when you want and complete opportunity to "inspire" my work with gallons of booze.

Mind you, this was pre-internet. Once the web became more accessible and modem technology got speeds up to 56,000 the cat was out of the bag.

With that, the invention of the PC and MS-DOS and the total 180 degree turn from the hardware outrunning the software to the software driving the hardware, my goose was cooked.

My market rapidly dried out and I was not intellectually (soberly) capable of switching gears to the PC fast track.

Oh, I DID, to a great extent. The last years of my business were spent "migrating" clients from their old Wang mini-computers to PCs using conversion software that allowed the propriety Wang BASIC-2 language to work on these crude new beasts.

As my clients advanced from simple Wang Word Processing to Word Perfect and Wang-Calc to Visi Calc, I was left in the dust. I was simply and totally burned out and could not adapt, even though I saw what was coming. Rather than embrace the progress, I embraced my addiction.

The wistful effort of career change through running for public office drowned, along with my health.

Where I once confidently waded in to any technological challenge with excitement and success, I now am actually frightened by the prospect of installing a "plug-and-play" modem for my wife's parents.

When my kids ask for help with EXCEL and WORD and POWERPOINT and all those other scary things, I feel like an idiot -- not just feel like it -- am.

Now that I've set myself up for yet another technological defeat, things will probably go as slick as a greased hog. I'll let you know.

Cheers!

Here Comes Flash - A Clinton Lyrical Interlude

2007-02-27T15:49:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

My muse is buried under all the snow. Here are the lyrics to an early 70's Kinks song which for years I have never been able to hear without thinking of William Jefferson (Bill) Clinton.

Scene: A party political broadcast -- Mr. Black and his followers

He comes on smooth, cool and kind,
But he wants your body not your mind.
He's got style, personality,
But he's the devil in reality.
He'll make you laugh, make you smile,
And make you feel good for a while.
Wicked smile, decadent grin,
He likes school girls, nuns and virgins.
His skin is soft but his mind is hard,
He'll lead you on then he'll tear you apart.
He'll treat you rough and he will make you cry,
And you will kiss sweet innocence good-bye.
And once you're in there'll be no getting out,
So look out, look out, look out, look out.
He's evil. He's evil. He's evil. He's evil. He's evil.
He's evil. He's evil. He's evil. He's evil. He's evil.

He's got wit he's got charm.
But when he gets rough he'll break your arm.
He's got taste, manners and grace,
But when he gets tough he'll slit your face.
He'll buy you jewels, expensive clothes,
Then his mind'll go and he'll bust your nose.
He's a joker and a clown
But he'll pervert you and drag you down.
He comes on smooth, cool and kind,
But he wants your body not your mind,
He is just the devil in disguise.
He will drag you down and he will make you cry,
And once you're in there will be no getting out.
So look out, look out, look out.
Look out, look out, look out.
He's evil. He's evil. He's evil. He's evil. He's evil.
He's evil. He's evil. He's evil. He's evil. He's evil.

"He's Evil" from the album "Preservation Act 2", 1974 by The Kinks. Song and words by Ray Davies

Ah, let's throw in a lyric that minds me of Slick Willie's distaff half. A stretch, perhaps but suitably scary.

God save the queen
The fascist regime
They made you a moron
Potential H-bomb

God save the queen
She ain't no human being
There is no future
In England's dreaming

Don't be told what you want
Don't be told what you need
There's no future, no future,
No future for you

God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves

God save the queen
'Cause tourists are money
And our figurehead
Is not what she seems

Oh God save history
God save your mad parade
Oh Lord God have mercy
All crimes are paid

When there's no future
How can there be sin
We're the flowers in the dustbin
We're the poison in your human machine
We're the future, you're future

God save the queen
We mean it man
We love our queen
God saves

God save the queen
We mean it man
And there is no future
In England's dreaming

No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future,
No future for me

No future, no future,
No future for you
No future, no future
For you

"God Save the Queen" from "Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols", 1977, written by John Lydon.

I really DO believe that Hillary has no future as the President, much less the Democratic Party Nominee.

It won't be the conservatives that bring her down -- they say "Revolutions eat their young." Hillary ain't young and the Democratic Party ain't no revolution, but in this relatively polite time, her destruction will be as close as it gets.

Cheers!

What a Difference a Day Makes

2007-02-26T14:53:00.000-08:00

Early Adopter - I'm for Rudy

2007-02-23T15:57:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

It pains me no end that the next president will take office in 2009 and we already have to start lining up behind candidates.

The first candidate that I ever worked seriously and meaningfully for was Ross Perot. Maybe if he didn't go nuts he may have won -- I really thought he was just what the country needed. As it is, I sat at a somber Perot election night event and watched my man hand over the country to the Team Slick Willarly Rodham-Clinton for 8 endless years.

But times change and the election cycle has come to 24/7/365 , so I might as well get behind someone.

Of the announced and potentials, I would rank my gut preference in this order: Gingrich, Tancredo, Romney, Guiliani, McCain, Brownback, Hagel.

The Perot experience taught me that it is more important to win than to be the best choice. So I have officially signed on with Rudy, which is no more than filling out a web form and prepare for the avalanche of run-raising mail, calls and emails. Unfortunately for Rudy, all I have to offer is my best personal regards and the quite disputable power and reach of my influence on the electorate.

So much can change in the next 20 months, including my body assuming room temperature.

So with the grim reaper stalking me, I need to move fast. Rudy is my man.

If I am around for election day and any Democrat wins, I will be sad for staying alive for nothing.

Cheers!

Did You Know? An Amazing 6 Minutes

2007-02-23T06:35:00.003-08:00

Hi All!

This video is guaranteed to give you pause.

Cheers!

Keillor Pops Bolt Over Giuliani Videe

2007-02-18T09:24:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

As previously noted, our mean old cranky bard of the liberals has got his undies in a bundle over the clip I posted here a couple of days ago. It's funny, Garry! C'mon!

Today his nasty little smear job made it into the Red Star.

By the way, isn't it odd that his Star Tribune writing is not available on their site? Had to surf around for a copy and found a free of registration one from Arizona.

Cheers!

The Donald Stalks Rudy in Drag!

2007-02-15T13:24:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Our favorite old maid, Garrison Keillor, has taken a shot at Rudy Guiliani for making a little spoof video for a "roast."

Keillor tut-tutted it, which proves to me that the Old Scout doesn't have any sense of humor beyond his own.

See for yourself and tell me what you think,

Cheers!

Take THIS, Jon Stewart

2007-02-14T13:10:00.000-08:00

Valentine's Day in Olden Times

2007-02-14T09:31:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

When I was a grade school urchin, Valentine's Day was quite the big deal. In those days, the 60's, kids weren't required to give EVERYONE a valentine. No, the girls and boys could pick and choose and it could be ecstatic or devastating, depending on who gave you a card and who snubbed you.

I still have a scrapbook with several years of valentines glued in. As I went over them, the memories flooded back -- the agonies and the ecstasies of peer opinion.

From High School to about the 10th year of my marriage, I tried to outdo myself every Valentine's Day -- elaborate home-made cards, mushy love letters, dozens of red roses, chateau briand and red wine at The Lex.... sigh.

One of my favorite valentines was a thumb-flip little book that was entitled "My Heart Pants for You." When you rifled through to animate it, a guy with valentine pants pulled them down and mooned.

Sad to confess, VD hasn't done much for me for the last decade or so. Like so many traditional holidays, everything is over-commercialized, spread out and watered down.

Sadder still, I just ain't that romantic anymore, and it's something you can't force.

For those whom this "Saint Valentine's Day" still holds excitement and romance, more power to you. Me, I'm gonna go on-line and print out a card and make Tuna Helper for dinner.

Cheers!

Kinks Plus Simpsons and The Kinks

2007-02-13T13:25:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Totally uninspired to write, I wandered over to my favorite internet grazing pasture and rooted up some tasty videes. Here are two from two of my most favorite cultural icons. Enjoy!

Cheers!

Guest Columist Ben Stein - Right On

2007-02-13T06:24:00.000-08:00

The Lynching of the President

By Ben Stein

Published 1/25/2007 1:49:40 AM

So there I was, lying in my bed in Malibu with my dogs, watching Mr. Bush's State of the Union speech. I thought it was darned good. Realistic, gracious, modest, sensible. I happen to think we should get out of Iraq yesterday, but I thought Mr Bush put forward his case well. And Congress responded graciously and generously on both sides of the aisle.

Then, whaam, as soon as the speech was over, ABC was bashing him, telling us how pathetic he was, how irrelevant he was, how weak he was, how unrealistic he was.

Right after that, Jim Webb gave a very short speech biting Bush's head off -- but not making any concrete proposals about anything. No network person mentioned how simple minded and unrealistic he was.

Then, tonight, the next night, I walked into the kitchen where my wife had left the radio going with NPR to amuse the cats. NPR was having a call-in show talking about the State of the Union. The first speaker I heard was a country music legend, Merle Haggard, who said he had never seen things so bad in this country. Then a legion of anonymous callers chimed in with similar thoughts.

And suddenly it hit me. The media is staging a coup against Mr. Bush. They cannot impeach him because he hasn't done anything illegal. But they can endlessly tell us what a loser he is and how out of touch he is (and I mean ENDLESSLY) and how he's just a vestigial organ on the body politic right now.

The media is doing what it can to basically oust Mr. Bush while still leaving him alive and well in the White House. It's a sort of neutron bomb of media that seeks to kill him while leaving the White House standing (for their favorite unknown, Barack Obama, to occupy).

How dare NPR ask a country singer who hates Bush to spew venom at Bush? Merle Haggard is a truly great singer and musician, but he's just one old guy. There are plenty of country singers who love Bush and would campaign for him right now. And in what sense is Mr Haggard an expert on the state of the union?

The truth is that we are in a huge economic boom. We are coming off a mammoth real estate explosion that put the most Americans in history in their own homes. We have totally full employment. After decades of stagnation, real wages are rising. Gasoline prices are way, way down. The nation is wealthier than it has ever been (although this is very unevenly distributed). Opportunities for subsidized higher education are better than they have ever been.

Most important of all, who would have ever been rash enough on September 12, 2001 to say there would not be one major or even minor successful terrorist incident against the U.S. homeland in over five years? Who would have thought we would escape without more massive terror? But we have, and it is a foolhardy person who would say that's an accident. Bush may not have done it by himself, but he had something to do with it.

True, we are mired in a war without end, costing us far too may great young and old Americans and too many limbs and wrecked families and vastly too much money. But we all know we're getting out soon. It was a huge mistake, but I'd like to see a President who did not make immense mistakes. Compared with the mistakes of Truman and FDR and Kennedy, Iraq is a mistake, but not worse than theirs.

True, we have virtually no federal oversight of corporate looting and executive suite misconduct, but we didn't have any under Clinton either. The rich get away with murder. That's what happens in the real world. Bush is to blame, but all politicians cater to the rich, and Hillary will and Barack Obama will, too. It's nauseating and I fight it constantly, but that's life.

My point: let's be aware that Bush has presided over a lot of success in addition to substantial failure. My second point: no one elected the media to anything. If we let them lynch the man we elected as President we are throwing out the Constitution with the war in Iraq. In the studios and newsrooms, there is a lynch mob at work. Let's see it for what it is. We have a good man who has made mistakes in the Oval Office. He's the only President we have, and I trust him a lot more than I trust unelected princes of the newsroom.

Am I the Same as a Holocaust Denier?

2007-02-13T05:01:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

I haven't had many good ideas of my own lately -- they're all taken. So my posts today will borrow heavily from others.

It seems like the heat being generated by the global warming debate is starting to threaten the environment more than CO2.

It's hard to add much to the many perfectly sound arguments on the "bad guys", ie. the unwashed, unconverted skeptics.

Dennis Prager had a very good piece today. you can read the whole thing here.

In response to the latest hysterical liberal outburst of Ellen Goodman (trying to be obnoxious enough to be the next Molly Ivans) Prager wrote:

[Goodman's screed] "is only the beginning of what is already becoming one of the largest campaigns of vilification of decent people in history -- the global condemnation of a) anyone who questions global warming; or b) anyone who agrees that there is global warming but who argues that human behavior is not its primary cause; or c) anyone who agrees that there is global warming, and even agrees that human behavior is its primary cause, but does not believe that the consequences will be nearly as catastrophic as Al Gore does.

If you don't believe all three propositions, you will be lumped with Holocaust deniers, and it would not be surprising that soon, in Europe, global warming deniers will be treated as Holocaust deniers and prosecuted. Just watch. That is far more likely than the oceans rising by 20 feet. Or even 10. Or even three."

Count me as a type "b", as are scores of clear thinking, rational layman and even a few honest climatologists.

Which are you? IMHO, if you are "none of the above" you need to pull your head out.

Cheers!

If the Race Were Held Today

2007-02-09T06:00:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

It soooo way too early to be worrying about the 11/2008 election but I guess I'm resigned to the fact that campaigning never takes a break anymore.

I wish we could vote today, because we'd have a New York, New York race (link might require registration to work).

I'd tell you who I'd vote for but its a secret. Hint: It's likely not the one with the powdered-over lip mole.

Cheers!

Prince Really DOES Hold his Guitar That Way

2007-02-08T14:47:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

I am still bummed that some "Universal Publishing Group" has scoured the halftime show off the face of the internet. And the commerical. And the press conference. Cheap bastards. Cheap bastard Prince?

Well here is a neat video from the R&R Hall of Fame Awards where Prince displays the way he often holds his guitar. I still think he pulled a fast one, but maybe it was just an unfortunate shadow.

If you just want to see the "move" point the slider to 2:25 and you will see just how "naughty" the silhouette really was. Much ado about nothing.

And at the very end he does that "throw the guitar to a roadie" thing. Silly me thought he was upset when he did it at halftime, but if that was his "real" glyph guitar it is at least 20 years old and worth a mint.

I guess if Prince wants to hoard the video which I'm sure we will be able to pay for soon that he probably would be too cheap to throw away a perfectly good , rare antique

If you are one of the 10 or so people left who hasn't watched a YouTube video, here are detailed instructions:

1. If you use dial-up stop right here unless you are going to the mall for a couple of hours. For broadband, continue.

2. Press the big right pointing triangle-thingy in the middle of the picture to start loading.

3. If the videe plays straight away without interruption, congratulate your Internet Service Provider and enjoy. If the red line as not staying ahead of the slider and things are stop and go, press the pause button (II) and wait until the red progress report is far ahead. Then press play.

4. To quit, just press pause and go somewhere else.

5. To jump to a spot, like 2:25 (remaining) move the slider with your mouse.

This is my first shot at embedding a video in a blog post, so forgive me if it doesn't work and let me know in the comment section, would you?

Note on the video the excitement on Dani Harrison's face as Prince does justice to dad George, the late great Beatle's great song. I think Clapton actually did the solo on the original but George was a great guitar player in his own right.

And another pretty good mini-superbowl performance at the Grammys with some singer named Beyonce... and isn't that the Prince wannabe Justin Timberlake shown applauding at the very end?

Cheers!

Why Don't Conservatives Buy Global Warming?

2007-02-08T04:55:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

I read a great piece by Mark Steyn which is just the latest example of the conservative view on the spectre of "Global Warming" which is so much in vogue with liberals.

It made me wonder anew, why it is that one political philosophy is pitted against another on an issue that should be simple scientific fact or not.

My short and sweet answer to the conservative/liberal dichotomy is to look at the personalities of the two sides.

Liberals are emotion-driven, worriers, gloomy naysayers, pessimists.

Conservatives are logical, sunny common-sense optimists.

Global Warming is not a proven scientific fact, and the scientific community is not of one conclusion regarding what is more properly termed "climate change."

Here is a snip from Steyn:

"As we say in the north country, if you don't like the weather, wait five minutes. And if you don't like the global weather, wait three decades. For the last century or so, the planet has gone through very teensy-weensy warming trends followed by very teensy-weensy cooling trends followed by very teensy-weensy warming trends, every 30 years or so. And, even when we're in a pattern of "global warming" or "global cooling," the phenomenon is not universally observed — i.e., it's not "global," or even very local. In the Antarctic, the small Palmer peninsula has got a little warmer but the main continent is colder. Up north, the western Arctic's a little warmer but the eastern Arctic's colder. So, if you're an eastern polar bear, you're in clover — metaphorically, I hasten to add. If you're a western polar bear, you'll be in clover literally in a year or two, according to Al Gore."

Here is another observation by MIT meterologist Richard Lindzen:

"I think it's mainly just like little kids locking themselves in dark closets to see how much they can scare each other and themselves. And there's a lot of confusion in this and, you know, at the heart of it, we're talking of a few tenths of a degree change in temperature. None of it in the last eight years, by the way. . . . [I]f there's anything that there is a consensus on, [it is that we] will do very little to affect climate. . . . And I think future generations are not going to blame us for anything except for being silly, for letting a few tenths of a degree panic us. And I think nobody is arguing about whether our climate is changing. It's always changing. Sea level has been rising since the end of the last ice age. The experts on it in the IPCC have freely acknowledged there's no strong evidence it's accelerating."

In Minnesota today, there is a warming trend happening right now. The lows are up to single digits below zero and the highs are in the single digits above zero. As long as the wind doesn't blow too hard, we're on our way to Spring.

Cheers!

Prince Super Bowl Vanishes from YouTube

2007-02-07T17:57:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

This just happened. Was going to watch the Super Bowl show one more time and as it was loading I perused some feedback comments which were mostly quite favorable. Went I went back to watch, the clip had been removed due to copyright infringement.

And so goes one of my only criticism of Prince. He surrounds himself with "Business People" who have conned him into thinking that the little bit he gets from these legal vultures after they finish digging their grimy hands in the till is worth closing himself off to millions of extra money-paying fans.

Cripes the video wasn't even that good -- Everything Prince/Superbowl related is now deleted by YouTube.

Prince, just because you grew up in Minnesota don't mean you have to squeeze every penny like a penurious Swede.

Cheers!

The Arrogance of Power

2007-02-07T12:33:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Now that Price is out of my system for now, and my blog traffic had it's best few days since its inception in 4/2004, I will probably chase half of my new audience away with this post.

For some reason, it is assumed that one who loves hard rock, punk and Britpop, etc. cannot possibly be a Republican. What they ignore is that many of we Republicans have a strong Libertarian bent. All the right-wing talk shows I have ever heard use hard driving chords and lyrics as bumpers and parody songs. So it is not a stretch that a conservative like me and millions of others can love such as Prince.

Being Arrogant and Powerful is OK when you are an entertainer, and Prince could certainly be adjudged to fit the bill. That's ok for a performer.

It is NOT OK for a politician who claims to work in the best interests of the USA.

When I first entered politics in 1994 as a candidate for the Minnesota House, one of the first pieces of advice that I took to heart and hold to this day was given my political mentor Speaker Steve Sviggum. He told us rookies that if we were lucky enough to be elected, that we must be very aware the temptation to embrace the arrogance of power.

I tried twice and didn't quite make it. I DID work for the Speaker for a quick cup of coffee and I observed what happens first hand.

Many if not most politicians bring arrogance into office with them. What disturbed me was seeing newcomers who I knew from running fall into the trap, losing their fervor and looking askance at their principles.

Arrogance of Power gave control of the US Congress to the Democrats. It damned near makes me weep to see what became of the Party of Reagan and the Contract With America of Gingrich.

I know there will be many who disagree, but neither of those guys were arrogant. Reagan was free of it. Newt appeared to be arrogant by being brave and forceful and politically courageous. I'm not sure if that's arrogance or selflessness.

The best example of what is to me, the most uncxious expressions of political arrogance are Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi.

Pelosi is demanding an Air Force One-type of plane to ferry her entourage across country from D.C. to San Francisco. She is asking for 42 business class seats, a meeting room a state room and 14 crewmembers. FOURTEEN for 42? The way I figure is that you need two pilots, so the rest would be cabin staff at a ratio of less than 4 to 1.

To get this, she is reported to have threatened military funding if she doesn't get her jet.

After 9/11 the Speaker got a jet and Hastert and DeLay certainly used it. But it was far more modest, in keeping with the lesser position than the President and Vice President.

I won't supply example for Madame Clinton who lives and breathes arrogance. To think this woman has a better than even chance of being the next president scares the crap out me. Maybe it WON'T be so dad for my liver disease to take its course soon -- I can't imagine living in my country with a venal imperialist plotter.

Cheers!

Last Prince Super Bowl Post - "Promise"

2007-02-05T07:56:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

I have spent a few hours reading dozens of reviews on news and blog sites and no one article "noticed" everything I did.

For example, when the billowing sheet created that big silhouette and Prince strick a particular pose with the guitar I wondered aloud whether he hadn't put one over on the censors.

I predict that this "naughty bit" will become bigger news as the day goes on. I'd like to think it was totally intentional -- that would be just like Prince.

Here is the full halftime show.

By the way, few seemed to have noticed that the opening chords of "1999" led into "Baby I'm a Star." I still kinda wonder about the 3 minute Foo Fighter cover, good as it was.

Of the many reviews I've seen, this is the best play-by-play coverage -- seriously, check it out.

Oh, and a great photo montage with another link to the full video.

Cheers!

Prince Super Bowl Purple Rainout on Further Review

2007-02-05T06:00:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Ok, I warned you that I was live-blogging yesterday and was posting even as the stage was being dismantled.

As a fan, I tend to be hyper-critical, as I want so much for others to see what great taste I have. It drives my family crazy.

"Hey, you gotta hear this, you gotta see this -- just look for a minute!" Bad habit - Prince doesn't need Wog to draw rabid fans.

The reviews are all over the internet and are about 99.9% glowing, so I guess I put a "damper" on the celebration with my tepid review.
I look forward to watching it again and again today -- I haven't checked but I'm sure it's on YouTube already.

As for feeling sorry for my "man" getting caught in a monsoon, I guess it beats freezing your nards off in Minnesota.

Cheers!

Purple Rainout

2007-02-04T17:22:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Darn it.

You have to admit that the half-time show went as well as it could in the monsoon, but it was probably 50% of what would have been.

Worst part of all was an apparent guitar malfunction at the end. Seemed like the pickup dropped off (there was an audible thump) and the solo at the end was barely audible -- and, I think -- cut short, after which Prince seemed to have hurled his guitar at a roadie in disgust.

But that's a live-blog for ya -- guess the tape will need to be reviewed. Fascinating song choices in between the start and finish -- the guy don't play it predictable or safe!

Commercials dreadful except, so far, the Blockbuster ad with the mouse, the video game where the bad guy turns nice for Coke, the check-out lane romance involving various flavors of Dorittos and Catie and Laura's sentimental favorite -- the dog that gets to ride on the fire engine in the parade after the world treated him like a fire hydrant.

Back to the game, which is actually quite entertaining!

Cheers!

Crunchy Cold

2007-02-04T10:44:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

It is ridiculously, unfathomably, excruciatingly and witch teat, monkey's bum cold here in Flyoverland, Minnesota.

Just ask the National Weather Service:

TEMPERATURES LATE THIS AFTERNOON WERE NEAR 10 BELOW ZERO WITH
WIND CHILLS FROM 25 BELOW TO 40 BELOW ZERO. NORTHWEST WINDS OF 10
TO 15 MPH WILL COMBINED WITH TEMPERATURES OF 10 BELOW TO 20 BELOW
ZERO...WILL CREATE WIND CHILLS OF 30 TO 45 BELOW ZERO. THESE
DANGEROUS AND LIFE THREATENING WEATHER CONDITIONS WILL PERSIST
THROUGH MONDAY MORNING...ESPECIALLY OVER WEST CENTRAL WISCONSIN.

IF VENTURING OUTDOORS...YOU SHOULD DRESS ACCORDINGLY...MAKE SURE
THAT YOU COVER YOUR HEAD AND HANDS. MOTORISTS ARE ADVISED TO CARRY
A WINTER SAFETY KIT OR A MOBILE PHONE IN CASE YOU GET STRANDED.

When I was younger, I, like most BS-ers from Minnesota liked to brag about our indifference to the White Fang Cold we endured every year.

As I have aged, I much less look forward to spitting in Jack Frost's face (it would just freeze onto my beard).

My parents left at the beginning of December for a Southwestern U.S.A. road trip. They say they will be back by March, but if this keeps up they have the option of leeching food and shelter from the numerous friends and relatives that were sane enough to get out of this frozen hell.

To my infinite credit, if I must say so myself, I managed to stack all the accumulated crap in our attached double garage into the tandem double garage behind it and for the first time in countless years, two cars can sleep in relative comfort.

The sounds our cars make when left outside in these conditions remind me of the horrible shrieks emitted by bunny rabbits when our goofy dachshund/terrier/border collie/black lab concoctions, Stan and Ollie, lay fang to them.

Metal on metal as the oil pump fruitlessly tries to force thick maple syrup into the cylinders. The automatic transmission bands spinning freely and vainly until they can catch a bit of hydraulic mush to make the reluctant gears engage.

As tempted as I am, I will not make this a global warming post, but just for giggles I'll blithely toss this one off:

Global Warming? My Ass!

Speaking of which, perhaps our current weather torture is partially due to the absence of Prince, who is usually good for a few degrees warming when he is staying at home. Miami's got all the luck today...if it don't rain....which it might.

Good luck little purple phenom, if it rains on your "Parade" (fans get it - album name, duh!) it is your fault for being a snow bird and not being here with a crock of chili and a vat of hot cider with the furnace going full blast and a zero percent chance of rain. I'm no meteorologist but right now it is -9 degrees F with a stiff wind making it feel sub 40. It ain't gonna rain, and I fear not being bit by a mosquito.

Hey, today was the last day of our Winter Carnival!

Cheers!

Hey, If Biden Can Get Away With It...

2007-02-03T20:05:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

If you are a regular reader of this blog I will not have to explain this to you, but for those in Rio Linda, a Democrat candidate for President spoke in a condescending, even (gasp) RACIST way about Obama -- the "right" kind of colored folk for the Liberals.

I shell dwell no more on this story -- look it up if you need the details on what this jerk actually is getting away with saying.

Well, here is my stab at Political Incorrectness:

The NWS predicts wind chill factors of -45 to -55 degrees below zero by early Monday.

The question occurs, "Why do illiterate tribes people from the jungles of Laos to the deserts of Somalia migrate to this godforsaken place?"

Oh yeah, "To seek a better life." Yah Shuur! And by gum they found it in Minnesota, "The Welfare State."

The preceding is a desperate cry for attention. Hope some of you "get it" 'cos I don't. If nothing else, enjoy the picture. The garden sure doesn't look like that outside today in this frigg'n iceberg.

Cheers!

Wog v. Technology

2007-02-03T15:56:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

It has been awhile since I ranted about how impossibly frustrating and difficult it is to get things to work just right with Windows.

Am I gonna rush out and "solve" my problems with "Vista"?

Not on a bet. I've bled on the edge of every Microshit offering since DOS 1.0 and with age comes wisdom.

I don't live on the bleeding edge no more.

Windows XP has been out for years and still frustrates endlessly.

To think that I made my adult living from pounding square technology pegs into round organizational holes when multi-user mini-computers walked the earth...

About half of my waking hours in the last 24 has been spent trying to do something for my in-law's email handling that should have been sooooooo simple.

Unfortunately, they have dial-up which is like listening to radio on a home-made crystal set.

In the course of several years, I have set up email accounts with various free services and their changing ISPs, always trying to maintain transparency, ie, anyone who has their uraddresse (a little German lingo there -- means: original address) can still get mail to them, even though it passes through what is now up to 4 "hidden" accounts. Think of an email as a baton passing along in a relay race and having been handled 4 times from start to finish.

Still, should be easy.

Still, it was not, is not.

Here is why I am REALLY feeling stupid right now. Even dumber than I look.

The reason I didn't make millions by being a computer consultant on the goddamned ground floor was because I was -- am -- too honest.

I promise the world for a song and I eat the overtime in making the improbable possible. Did it for years.

Worse, I don't cheat people. I could have made a mint on Y2K, but I assured my clients that every application I had put on their system was ready for it, as any decent programming in the 70's anticipated.

Even so, several clients hired "consultants" to "evaluate" their "Y2K readiness" because they believed the headlines more than their trusty old Wog.

A couple of clients actually got conned into new systems, several got needless "upgrades" and all spent alot of money on that scam that stayed free of MY wallet.

So now I spend a dozen hours beating my head on the wall just trying to make email access clean and easy for my wife's parents. And I beat myself up about it and I make it known that I am beating myself up over it.

Too late, I've realized that I should just accept the fact that I CAN figure this stuff out and the "client" doesn't need to know how, as long as I act like I am an expert and bill accordingly.

For now, here is $1000 worth of advice (at least): If you get something to work OK in Windows, DON'T TOUCH IT!

It occurs to me that I had clients in the past who didn't trust me because I worked so hard for so little.

If God gives me a chance to get back in the game, I will not repeat my mistakes. I will earn what I am worth. And just perhaps, I will have financial independence again.

Cheers!

Excited About The Superbowl -- Halftime Show

2007-02-03T09:28:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Finally, after 4 tries, "Minnesota" will "win" the Suberbowl. Prince is gonna kick ass. So far the rumours indicate he will do "Let's Go Crazy" and "Purple Rain", at the end of which huge purple fireworks display will close the show.

There is a commercial from Pepsi plugging the show which really shows what a "regular guy" Prince Rogers Nelson of Minneapolis can be. I have not seen it on TV (don't watch enough?) but if you haven't seen it either, watch it HERE!

I could write a long post about my feelings about Prince. Suffice it to say that he is one of the biggest things to come out of the Twin Cities. Weird? As in "Genius."

I found a pretty good (and very profane) post on this site which really struck a chord with me. As a pop-rock/punk sort of guy people have accused me of adoring Prince just 'cos I'm a "homer." Somewhat guilty as charged but the incredible talent this man has been blessed with transcends place of birth.

In case you don't follow the link, here is a snip of what Rob Shock, a British punk rock fan living in California has to say and I perfectly agree:

"Friends. I didn’t come here to talk about how American the Super Bowl is. I don’t think I have to. I do think I should end every sentence with a preposition at. I’m here to talk about Prince, who just happens to be the featured performer of this year’s Super Bowl Half Time Show. But Rob, you say. You are a bad punk rock motherfucker. Why would you care about Prince or anything he stands for? And I say, shut the fuck up! How dare you end a sentence in a preposition, and how dare you question Prince? There is no one more punk rock than Prince, you fucking moron! I know you think I’m off my rocker, but think about it. Prince does whatever the fuck he wants. He doesn’t give a fuck. He’s Prince! When he’s tired of his name, he just changes it to a symbol and says, “There, Fuckers! Try and pronounce that!” And just when we think we got the whole symbol thing figured out, he says, “Guess what? I’m Prince again, Bitch!”

In all seriousness, I think all the fluff and image thing with Prince has kind of detracted from his musicianship. When you think of great guitarists whom do you think of first? I can probably guess correctly that Prince isn’t near the top of your list, but he should be. He’s outstanding at the guitar and plays it like no else does. If you ever listen to a Prince song and hear that shredding solo in the bridge, be sure that that’s no hired studio musician. That’s Prince playing every note. So when you watch the Half-Time Show, between commercial segments of course, try and look past the perm, the blouse and the stiletto shoes and pay just a bit of attention to his guitar work. Okay, so he may not be punk rock, but I still think he’s a bad motherfucker.

Now that’s, uh, American?"

If you have a broadband internet connection you might enjoy this YouTube clip from Prince's Super Bowl "press conference"

Enjoy the Show!

Cheers!

Interesting Statistics

2007-01-27T11:42:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

There is an internet pledge going on encouraging the wobbly wepuplicans to reconsider investing in defeat, just like the liberals.

What is is interesting is the distribution of signers. Minnesota is near the top! What a schizophrenic political state! Land of Liberals indeed?

Here is a link to the chart: PLEDGE STATS

Cheers!

The Last Thing to Go?

2007-01-24T13:27:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Having fairly well emerged from the latest total mind and health trough, I am brimming with enough posting material to require an extra dose of lactulose, which is what the liver-impaired use to flush the ammonia out before it gets to the brain.

Encephalopathy is the medical term for it. I call it light-headed mania. A free and easy high.

My doctor warned that by the time I know I am encephalitic, I really won't know because I will be in a coma. Unlike Global Warming, I believe this one, as there is ample hard science to support it. And I have internet-met a few who have been to that scary place. The good part is that most people come out of it -- for what, well that is a different question. Ya still gots the dying liver and that danged permanent brain damage, so I guess I ain't gonna tempt fate.

Another symptom besides mania and light-headedness is forgetting to take the meds. Excuse me for a moment while I run upstairs and quaff a couple of tablespoons.

Ah, that should hold me.

So as I wait for the syrup to kick in and totally liquefy my frequent stools, I will sneak in a couple of observations.

I shouldn't be alive. Natural Selection, "Evolution" if you will, has weeded out my less hardy ancestors. Wars and such have robbed the gene pool so we only ever live to 100 or so nowadays. Modern medical science has preserved my bacon well past expiration date, and I had a pretty good set of genes to start with -- except that darned addiction gene.

Do I believe in the Theory of Evolution? You bet! Did Darwin come up with it? Seems so. But who came up with Darwin? This is not a post about Intelligent Design, but if anyone could have come up with THAT, well, that'd be God, IMHO.

In ruminating further about why I blog, a topic already discussed heretofore, I must add that it is hard to know oneself and once you do you won't like it.

I've got a big mouth, and by extension, itchy keyboard fingers.

The more I have been told or realized this for myself since, oh, second grade at St. Mark's, the more I realize that I really can't change in this regard.

So be it.

When my ashes are strewn over the lake, I'll bet a wisp of a breeze will gently lift some up ande and form a Cheshire Cat grin sort of eerie halo in the morning mist.

Well, it's a nice thought. For I know, when I go, the brain-mouth collaboration will go last.

OOPS! Gotta "go o o o o ".

Cheers!

One Thing Leads to Another in the Age of Google

2007-01-24T06:42:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

If I could go back to childhood--heck, young adulthood--I would never have thunk a lot of things. For instance, I never would have thunk that I'd be sitting next to the furnace in my cozy little "My Space" in my house, listening to Tom Barnard and the KQ Morning Crew on a computer, reading the news on the screen and googling.

Today a study from Padua, Italy was mentioned and Tommy B remarked that Padua was a big Catholic religious deal -- Our Lady of?... no -- but he KNEW he had heard of it from his religious upbringing.

In the old days, the radio guys would have been flooded with correcting phone calls. Nowadays, one, say, me, simply opens a new tab in Firefox and google "Padua." It's getting so that one may as well go straight to Wikipedia because that is where Google usually leads.

In the Wiki article what Tom Barnard had in the back of his head was just what I had. St. Anthony, of course! From Wiki to a Catholic Saints website to bone up on my St. Tony, I happened upon a quote of his to the effect of "Actions speak louder than words."

Hmmm. Cut and paste that old bromide back into Google and learn that the phrase is not credited to the Saint--well, THAT Saint--but St. Francis of Assisi (as in Tarkenton and Wog's middle name) is on record for having said an early version of this truism.

So, back to the blog and delete the Led Zep quote and insert St. Francis:

"Preach the Gospel at all times. Use words if necessary."

And people wonder how we goofball bloggers get story ideas!

Cheers!

The State of the Government Schools

2007-01-23T18:16:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Just looking for something to do other than to suffer the State of the Union Address which has already been reported ad nauseum. If I thought our President would pull a surprise and say what needs be said, I might watch. But George is a Bush, after all. Vacillator, conciliator, needing of love and approval and let the psychologists and historians have a field day.

GW has nothing to lose by staying the course, but he has simply lacked the charisma that a great leader needs to convince the governed to do unpleasant things in the long-term interest. Not talk'n just Iraq. Talk'n health care (less). Talk'n magical plants to save us from paying the Arab World for the rope they will hang us with. Eff it. I have lost all confidence in the USA and the buffoons we have put in power.

Now, what was this post about?

Oh yeah. Read and ye shall be rewarded.

I have this on perfectly good authority, but I am so paranoid about revealing my sources that I have to really change the circumstances of the story without losing the gist of it. Or not.

A public school teacher was so annoyed as to inquire of the principal why the American Flag was a half-mast day after day, and can't something be done about it (take it down would be her choice, I'll bet)

When informed of the traditional mourning period for a dead president, she, taken aback, insisted,

"Well, I didn't vote for him."

True story.

Cheers!

I Sea Green

2007-01-21T09:32:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

I had a scary few minutes last Sunday. With snow in the forecast and a build-up of stuff to burn in our fire pit, I thought it timely to make a bonfire of mostly wood and cardboard -- lots of cardboard.

I love making bonfires and this was a doozy. With the cold, frozen ground and trees around and little wind, it was a safe fire. The coming snow provided a greater comfort level. We buried our overhead utility lines years ago or they would have been singed by this baby.

As I was tossing another big box on the conflagration, there was a big, white-hot flare up that almost singed my beard and temporarily blinded me.

When I backed away, I was amazed that the fire had turned completely bright sea-green. My first assumption was that the ink used on a box was burning that color, but it didn't make sense that the whole fire was perfectly green. I turned toward the house and all the lit windows were green. I looked across the yard to my neighbors houses which all had green windows.

I went inside the garage and the florescent lights were green as was everything else. Another weird thought occurred to me -- what if I can't enjoy my new HDTV? Disbelief started morphing to mild panic, as it had been a minute or two and the natural colors had not returned.

Soon it seemed to be getting better so I went back outside. The fire and lights in the windows were as green as ever.

It took about 10 minutes to get my sight working properly again and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Tried to google the phenomenon but have found nothing about it -- the flash must have short circuited the color receptors in my eyes, except for green.

Scary.

Cheers!

And no, I wasn't on acid!

Why Wog Blogs -- The Big Disclaimer

2007-01-16T18:43:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Sometimes I feel like I am making a big ass of myself to the world -- and there are those who would enthusiastically agree.

So I have it of a mind to explain why I participate in the blogosphere.

I'm not in it for anything more than a vent for my emotions and a try at writing which I've been told since grade school that I am good at.

One could say that blogging is the free and easy way to "get published" for all would be writers, self-aggrandizers, poseurs, promoters, egomaniacs, insecures, the sane and the wacky. Just to name a few.

Me, Wog? I just enjoy writing stuff down. Over the many years I never had the discipline to put pen to paper or word processor to printer.

Blogging is so darned easy.

I don't blog for praise or pity (although unsought, these things feel good sometimes).

I try to write as fearlessly and thoughtlessly as possible. Maybe a big publisher will notice my turn of phrase. Perhaps I can luck out with a news flash and be an instapundit or a powerliner or a kos. If that happens, wonderful! Will it? A million to one. Do I care? Not a whit.

As I sample other blogs I am struck by how crappy most blogs are and once in awhile allow myself to fret over the incredible traffic some of these get. Write it and they will come? No, there must be some other reason crap gets read. My crap is as good as most. Yet I preach to a small congregation (and I REALLY appreciate it).

Before I start contradicting myself, let me get sort of back to my nebulous point. I have been told all my life that I can write. I don't believe it. But here all you mentors go -- I am writing. And whether it is shit or gold, I am marking my territory by pissing on the hydrant of the internet.

Blogging is one of the ways I am keeping alive. It is a hedged bet, assuming that I will assume room temperature sooner than later. At least I wrote something down.

OK, this was a LiveBlog session and I am not going to re-read it.

I have recently found that if I save things as drafts, I never finish them and publish them.

Like Jackie Gleason, I prefer to do my show live.

Cheers!

A Dark Time

2007-01-15T16:34:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Sorry for the lag in posting -- not that I lack for ample material. I've written a great plenty, but wisely kept it in draft form until I can revisit the material after this little cloud passes. It's just that I have hit a rough patch and need to pull myself back up again, like I always do.

No major disasters, just a total overload of little things that have avalanched in my own, simple mind.

Some of the troubles will go away, some never will. At least I can control how my brain deals with them, and at the moment the only optimism is that I recognize the need to put things back in perspective and restore my sunny attitude.

Don't worry, as Ahnold has famously said, "I vill be beck!"

Cheers!

Falling Up or Falling Down?

2007-01-06T17:31:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

With that good question, I commence another year of crying out in the wilderness in cyberspace.

I worked hard at getting some traction for wogsblog this year, including shameless promotion. Despite a blip or two, no more than 20-40 a per day even spend 0:00 minutes reading my stuff (as you might know, I can track such things) and have found that some of the longest visits have been from persons who are upset by what I write.

Comments are few and far between, and seldom inspiring, or even maddening, for that matter.

I am more determined than ever to keep writing and getting better at it for as long as I can. Even if wogsblog continues to be an atom in the universe of blogs, at least I am getting the therapeutic benefit of thinking and writing things down, any few words of which connect with someone and make this a "legacy."

On the recent demise of the great actor Peter Boyle, I tried to find a place to rent a 1970 movie he starred in called "Joe."

What made me remember that very harsh movie were various contacts with the "new public" in the inner cities of St Paul and Minneapolis this week, related to trying to get my kid's license re-instated.

As un-PC as this is, a decent native Minnesotan could not but be at least a bit miffed, if not totally pissed off to enter a license exam station and face a 3-hour line of Somalis. If you don't believe me, if you think I am showing some sort of "racist stripes" that I truly have fought to resist since grade school, just go to Midway Center on University and Snelling and peek in the door. I think I'll go back and bring a camera.

There is a very long and even more aggravating plot to this. Suffice it for now to say that we gave up waiting for the test and tried again at a new test center in Minneapolis at the World Market, and it was much more efficient, albeit 99.9% immigrant and Alex proceeded to whip carelessly and confidently through the test and fail at 69%.

I gotta quit here. There is so much more to this story, which started when Alex drove a moped without sunglasses. The nightmare continues, and it ain't about the test, it's about insurance.

Well, "Joe" is not stocked around here, but I was able to rent my second choice, "Falling Down" with Michael Douglas as a recently fired professional whose day went from bad to worse.

Perverse that I want to watch something like "Joe" or "Falling Down"? No, I consider it a safety valve -- let the actors act out what you would fantasize doing yourself.

More to this wacky weekend. My blogger friend Mitch (thousands of hits/day so I am not even gonna tell you to check out www.shotinthedark.info) likes to tantalize with hints at momentous events in his personal life without ever spilling the beans.

Having learned from the Master, I will only say that from Thursday to Today (Saturday) much has been falling down.

At least I can say that something fell up. I saw the transplant doctor and I am back in the evaluation system, having effed-up my first go at it over a year ago.

I am still drawing breath and mostly upbeat. The tests start in earnest come April. I WILL make it to that appointment.

Cheers!

Stories from 2006

2006-12-30T11:47:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

By your leave, this must serve as the Kuettel Family Holiday "Letter."

It was a fairly good year, bringing a few blessings and plenty of curses.

Alex graduated from Cretin-Derham Hall and Catie came in as a Freshman, while Drew is experiencing the often-tough Junior Year.

Alex is living on campus at the U of M as he starts his college career.

Health issues effected all of us at one time or another. We have all come through and I feel particularly blessed to see 2007 arrive, dashing my doctor's prediction that I wouldn't see Christmas. He renewed my handicap card from December 31 only until June 2007 so he is still a "Gloomy Gus."

The highlight of the year for me was pulling off a pretty darn good graduation party for Alex, despite the 100+ degree temperature and the main course of three kinds of nice hot chili! We hardly needed the crock pots and we needed to conserve the energy to run the big cooling fans under the tent and to power the rock and roll band that blew the leaves off the trees.

An accomplishment that gives me some comfort is that I am glacially reversing 20 years of cluttering that had pretty much taken over the house and garage. Only perhaps half there, but as my energy permits, we should be relatively dejunked by the end of 2007.

As I close the year with this 211th post, I went back and picked a few that you might enjoy reading (to get back to this page after reading a story, just press your browser's back button.

Father's Day Ruminations (Weird)

An Irony of Life (Poetic Justice)

Look Out Cretin-Derham Hall! (Sentimental)

Pagan Baseball Ceremony (Very Weird)

Paul's Health (Dour)

Laura's Birthday (Cute)

Democrat's Inauguration Event (Funny)

No Time for Unhappiness (Compelling)

Cheers and Happy 2007!

PS. A New Year's Eve Update:

A decent little snow storm blew up this afternoon and may have put the damper on many a sybaritic plan. All three kids are having the sort of fun that I guess we did at their ages (and I hope not in certain ways) but I have convinced them not to travel too far afield this evening and to just enjoy what they have where they have it without dangerous road trips.

I took Stan and Ollie for a walk in the winter wonderland and after a block I felt like I was in a Jack London book. The snow was of the horizontally driven pin-pricking type and it will be argued who decided to turn back first. Me or the pups. Are you kidding? they are the penultimate "house dogs." I still have the capacity to bear the pain of a Minnesota Winter.

Now, thanks to the tab on my browser which brings up an instant weather radar picture, I see that the storm has blown through and as it is only a bit past 10:00 the rides home should be no more treacherous than the drivers have made it for themselves.

I am here in my "furnace room" office with the extra heat of the beast breathing on my back before the rest of the house get's to share it.

By God I, We, You....Made it to 2007.

Which is more than can be said of a good president and a despicable tyrant.

Life Ain't All Peaches and Cream

2006-12-28T09:55:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

Randy Moss quoted that old line when he got in trouble for running a red light and hitting a traffic cop. The case went away very quickly. One can assume the traffic cop has no financial worries for life.

I'm retiring that quote from my masthead because it is too trite and too depressing.

Have any of you ever eaten peaches and cream? My Nana used to serve it to us as kids. Fresh sliced peach wedges bathed in cream (or whole milk at least) and buried in an avalanche of sugar. Best way to enjoy fruit, but perhaps not very healthy. Like a Cranberry and Vodka. Fruit and potato, good for a sugar buzz but not too good for one, at least if over-indulged-in.

When my eldest was home from college for a couple of nights he discovered that my Comcast cable has an "On Demand" feature that lets you watch free movies. Not only can you watch any of several dozen classic films at your convenience, you can stop, pause, forward and rewind. Comcast should tout this service more aggressively. It is really neat.

Last night after dinner, wife, youngest and me watched "Das Boot" for the umpteenth time.

There are three movies that have special meaning and strong memories for me.

When "Mary Poppins" came out, we kids and my mom got to join my dad "Downtown" to see it -- at the Strand I think, maybe the Orpheum. Whatever, the movie palace was magical. In our youthful haste to get to the show, my little brother smashed his face into a traffic sign as he sprinted to the theater entrance. He went down like a stone.

Whatever brain damage that he incurred from that or the time I knocked his teeth out by pounding him with my plaster-casted broken arm, certainly hasn't held him back from being an incredible success with all the associated rewards that are richly deserved. I am proud of him and, thank God, he is nice to me.

For my First Date, I invited a good looking Visitation HS frosh to a movie and dinner. The movie was the new film, "Night of the Living Dead" which was playing at the Highland. The dinner was a large cheese pizza at Carbones.

It was way south of zero degrees and the roads were snow packed and icy. I told my folks that we were "taking the bus" to our date -- what a bad liar I was (am?)

I "borrowed" dad's land yacht, a Ford LTD that was too long for our garage door to shut behind. The parents were having a cocktail party and the garage entry was screened from the house, so I felt pretty safe.

I didn't count on getting stuck in the DeVine's Men's Clothing parking lot after the movie was over. It was just a little patch of ice, but the rear-wheel-drive behemoth simply spun it's wheels helplessly.

So I taught Sue how to drive.

She was 14. I was 15. I showed her what to do. Press the right pedal slowly and I will push. Once free, push the huge brake pedal.

It worked. The car was an eyelash away from catapulting into Ford Parkway but Sue managed to find that God sent brake pedal.

Carbone's was the icing on the disaster of a date. I think she was in a state of shock after her emergency driving lesson and she just sat mute and watched me eat the whole pizza without taking even one piece.

Got her home safe and sound and never came near her again -- she DID look good from a distance, but up close.... She was a dog. She had the personality of a mushroom. The movie sucked.

My Dad, my bride-in-waiting and I shoved a few bottles of beer into our heavy winter coats and went to see the new movie, "Das Boot" I have always been a germanophile and this movie sounded pretty good, since dad like WWII movies.

Dad was ready to get up and leave as soon as we found out that the movie was in German with subtitles, but the smuggled beers kept us in our seats for what turned out to be the best movie theater experience we had ever had.

I don't know how many times dad, Laura and me have seen it again, but it has been many.

Last night was like seeing the movie back at the theater again. The fond memories flooded back, although the movie is quite dark with a typically "german" depressing end. The HD picture looked fantastic and the booming sound from my 1000 watt speaker array was better than even at the theater back in the late seventies when we first saw it.

PS. I got the LTD back into the garage and closed the door as far as it would go, leaving the back end sticking out, as normal. Despite the risks and near disaster, I pulled it off. I thought.

I was greeted the next day with the news that my baby sister had left her mittens in the LTD and dad had gone out to the garage to retrieve them. He knew he didn't need to report it stolen. If there is one constant in my life, it is that I NEVER get away with ANYTHING !

The punishment must not have been too harsh 'cos I think dad might possibly have admired my foolish guts.

Cheers!

The Magic Ticket

2006-12-27T18:13:00.000-08:00

Hi All!

I can't find my Magic Ticket.

On the way home from dinner with daughter and wife, a discussion ensued as to which parent the daughter thought of as psychotic, and who neurotic.

Daughter nailed ME on both. I carefully explained the distinction, not even a fine line, between the two. I am NOT neurotic -- I don't sweat small stuff.

I did not win the argument. But I didn't get to vote.

The restaurant was holiday-busy and my nice, red handicap ticket came in handy for a parking space.

I don't deserve one as much as many, I guess. But depending on the day, I truly can't walk a hundred feet without stopping and taking gasping for breath. Nature of my disease. Food not converted to energy. Sometimes the basement stairs become Mount Everest.

I "earned" my red placard this past June when my health was at a low ebb.

My doctor told me, not for the first time, that I would not see Christmas, and wrote up the application for a December 2006 expiration.

This month I showed up at the Doctor's Office, feeling better than I had in June. He wrote me up an extension for my placard, or ticket, if you will, that predicts I won't need it past June, 2007.

Something about those deadlines is one of the many reasons my rebellious soul keeps dragging my wasted corpus along, defying the learning of science and medicine.

I received my new "Magic Ticket" as referred to in an earlier post, and promptly lost it. And found it. And lost it again.

I am not superstitious, but part of me grasps these wonderful 6 month tickets as proof that I am still alive, and will be at least until the ticket needs renewing.

When we got home tonight, I asked everyone if the had seen my new handicap placard. The June, 2007 one. No one had, and I am totally, irrationally worried about this.

But it feels better to have gotten my psychotic/neurotic fear off of my chest.

OK, until I find it you can color me neurotic. Once I find it I will be just fa fa fa fa fffaaaa fine.

Cheers!