Forever Vigilant--Awake At 1:15 AM

     How many of you are awake at this hour making sure that our world is safe?  I am. The time is 1:17 PDT, or 01:17 military time. Don't ask me what that is in Zulu or Greenwich Time as I am not sure.  I think it is ten hours ahead of us, but I am not sure of this.I think I am awake writing this, but I am not 100% certain. This may be just a cruel joke. However, I am at my post being vigilant making sure the world is safe.  Should something happen like the Martians invade or the endangered hoards of "Boogie Men" attack, I will sound the alarm.
      Who would I sound the alarm to and how would that alarm sound. I kind of like the alarm sounds on a German  U-boat that I have heard in all those German submarine movies. Someone yells out Alam, Alam and you know something bad is happening or about to happen. Its kind of like have you made out your will yet time.  You aren't going  to be walking on this planet long Buddy because that American destroyer above you has you zeroed in and here come the depth charges time. I'm sorry, but you just can't stop the inevitable.
     I have just checked out my window and can assure you all is well.  If something changes and it appears that we are in trouble of "The Calamity" befalling us, I will sound the alarm, or Alam, Alam--whatever the case may be. Go back to sleep, I shall remain vigilant!







Why am I still awake at 1:17 AM PDT or 01:17 PDT military time?












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A picture of the destroyer USS Black Rascal Creek during anti-submarine manuvers. So I spelled manuvers wrong.
This isn't the USS Black Rascal Creek?  What am I going to do with my staff?  

Entitlements, A Very Controversial Topic

     Some of you wonder where I get my blog ideas and tiles for those blogs. My thoughts wandered onto this very thought this morning, so it came to me that it was imperative that I shed some light on this very subject. My thoughts have a tendency to wander. It must be my wander lust. You, my readers, have a right to be let in on this very complicated process.
      First, I try to write as early in the morning as I can. Basically, it is one of the first things that I do when I get up in the morning. I get out of bed and make my coffee--excuse me a moment, I haven't made my coffee yet.  I'll be right back.
      You know, there is just something about grinding your own coffee beans in the morning for a fresh pot of coffee.  Did you know that a coffee bean is not a bean at all, but is the see of the fruit of the coffee tree?  Yes, coffee does grow on trees, unlike money which my ex-wife seems to think. At any rate, I prefer a dark roast and that has nothing to do with how I choose a title for my blogs.
     Returning to the subject at hand--what was the subject at hand anyway? Oh yes, how do I get ideas for my blogs?  Yes, it is a very complicated process, one that is so complicated that is difficult to put into words. You have to remember, you are dealing with a very complicated mind.  This brain of mine is working constantly and ideas flow and go through it faster than a Lamborghini being chased by a CHP on the road between Barstow and Las Vegas. Uh, the Lambo is speeding by the way and the CHP is being left in the dust, but you knew that.
     We eat a lot of Chinese take out from Panda Express.  The culinary choices here in Merced are limited to say the least. Yes, I realize that it is hard to say that Panda Express is real Chinese but we sort of like it. Its not quite Hopsing Harry's, but it is quick and fairly tasty. They always include a fortune cookie.  You can draw your own conclusions.
     How do I choose my blog topics?  Oh, just forget it.

My staff, hard at work coming up with ideas for me to cover in my blog.

Hey, Its Been A Busy Day

     Hey, I realize that it is now 11:32 on Thursday morning--Friday in Japan so enjoy your weekend. This post is really late and that's OK.  Normally I like to post early in the morning so that the day doesn't get away from me. Today, I blew it. There just was too much to do today.
     This morning has been full. No, I didn't sleep in although I did sleep until 8:00 AM Pacific Daylight Time.  This is about an hour and a half later than I normally get up. Whenever I do that it kind of sets me back with today's agenda as I have to be in the living room to see The Price Is Right at 11:00. We all have our priorities, don't we. That guy with the five kids and disabled wife has to win the car.  Its just good kharma and I have to help him win it.
     Generally the first thing I do is check my numbers on YouTube and Blogger. My numbers are soaring, by the way. At this rate I can retire when I am 95--oh wait, I am retired. Well, maybe I can buy that getaway in Costa Rica in the year 2210 at the rate I am going on AdSense. By the way, make sure you click on the vendor at the bottom in the AdSense box so that I can speed up the process of buying the home in Costa Rica. Do you really want me to beg?
      After I have checked my numbers I go on FaceBook. I don't stay there very long because I realize what a trap it is. It is my pleasure to wish those who have birthdays that particular day a Happy Birthday. That takes me up a couple of hours, it is important to catch up on the days news through FaceBook. I then turn to my email and I don't care if I have won the Habakistani Lottery worth $500, but I have to send $300 to Sabu Kanamagalagasa esq. a lawyer in Lagos, Nigeria in order to cover handling fees to release the funds. I don't trust him, he's a lawyer--I don't mean to offend any of my lawyer friends.
     All this took a little bit to long this morning so please forgive me.

What time is it?  I don't know, I can't read the face of the clock.  I don't have my glasses on.

Let's Wrestle

     With respect to the WWE or whatever they are calling themselves and professional wrestling, last night I "Got Ready To Rumble".  It was time for me to wrestle, but it wasn't what you think. No, I wasn't going to go three falls with Jon Cena or The Undertaker.  My challenge was to defeat an even more difficult foe, the child car seat.
      Have you ever tried to put one of those in the back seat of a car and get it put in properly? Believe me, it is no fun. Yesterday I had to transport one of my grandchildren and had to put one onto the back seat of our car. Let me tell you, this was no picnic. It probably would have been easier and less painful to have gone three round with Cena.
      When you look at these devices of pain, they look fairly easy to install.  There is only a couple of belts to attach and bingo, you are in business. These instruments of frustration are installed with automatic Murphy's Law activator sensors.  You remember Murphy's Law, don't you?  Anything that can go wrong will.  Yep, they build that bit of software right into every one of those suckers. It activated just as soon as it heard I was going to put the thing in the back seat. And, by the way, Murphy was an optimist or so they say.
      Such a simple device, the directions to install seem to be so simple. Directions lie, as we all know. I still don't know what that leftover strap was for.

The culprit.  Such a simple device but it is an instrument of torture for it's installer.

You Are Going To Wear That? Part 2

     My wife is out again and I think she is at the Fashion Police District Headquarters. I had to go out for a bit to run some errands and I looked resplendent in my brown shorts, navy blue polo shirt and my Birkenstock sandals. She didn't say a word as the errand was to procure needed supplies for her. This time, comfort won. Besides, I got dressed after she left.

Where you go when you defy fashion law.

You Are Going To Wear That?

     I have to admit, I don't have a real good fashion sense.  If it were up to me, I would wear shorts, a polo shirt and sandals all the time.  That's not exactly true.  When it gets cold, below 60 degrees, I will bring myself down to wear jeans and tennis shoes but that's no big deal. I'm sorry but I wore business attire for so long I swore off suits and ties and even shirts and ties a long time ago after I left the business world. Face it, life is too short to be uncomfortable.
     As you probably know, I love my wife.  I am a bit suspicious though.  Many times she will look at what I have on and ask me if I am really going to wear that. After all, what's wrong with wearing brown shorts with a navy blue shirt and birkenstock sandals to a church award dinner. Its going to be hot in the building. Besides, all those Germans who wear Birkenstocks can't be that wrong.
       Is she a member of the fashion police, Merced Division? My concerns got the best of me. I had to find out so I did a little snooping.  Sure enough there it was tucked in an isolated part of the closet.  It was her Fashion Police dress uniform. I wondered where she went when she said that she had a piano lesson. She was checking in to the Fashion  Police Headquarters for her assignments. She doesn't wear that uniform much, in fact I have never seen her wear it and guess the uniform is only for ceremonial purposes only worn on special occasions. I wondered where she was last week that one day when she was gone all day and took what she called a special dress with her. Maybe I'm paranoid but she does tell me "You're NOT going to wear that, are you." an awful lot. Hmmmmmmm......

Occasionally I will wear a sweater and sneakers. 

No Clankety Clank---Back To Veroom, Veroom

     We got the car back from the mechanic a few hours ago.   I would have been back sooner but I was given an order from the head of procurement to go to the food dump--uh supermarket. She wanted me to secure some groceries in order to fee the troops. Of course I obey orders and this afternoon was no exception. If "Mama" ain't happy, nobody is happy. I spent too much, but at least we will eat pretty well for the next few days.
      There is some great news.  The car is fixed and it didn't cost an arm and a leg. It rides very quietly. As explained to me it was a bearing that went out.  She rides pretty well actually.  The transmission still goes "clunk" occasionally  but I was assured that the injury is not permanent and we can live with it. It is not something that would strand us on the road. It's kind of like my arthritis in my hands. I have to learn to adjust and accept it, sort of like my arthritis.
     It is a Ford, and we all know what that stands for. However, don't let the car hear you say that. I don't want it to feel offended.

There's the "Blue Bandit" in better days. She likes to go place sand now we can she she was in the hospital for minor surgery.

   

No Vrooom- Vroooom--More Like Clank Clank

     As I shared a few posts ago, my car is having trouble. Today is the day where we take it to the shop that fixed the transmission and will get a reading on it's ills. This is like going to the dentist. The experience of car repairs is that painful.  The suspense of not knowing what is actually wrong and what the bill is going to be to restore your ride will certainly raise your blood pressure a bit.  Believe me, mine doesn't need any help raising.
     I am a bit concerned. There is an old adage in the car buying business that says that the car will last until you are about to make the last payment. Guess what my valued readers, next month is our last payment. There are certain sayings in life that have a tendency to be true. This is one of them. Wish us luck.

Maybe I should buy an airplane. This one would be fine. Let me look in my piggy bank to see if I have enough money. 

     

Who Moved My Cheese...Uh, Car

     I slept very well last night, thank you very much.  There was just one problem.  It was great being in a state of nocturnal bliss and tranquility but my sleep was disturbed. My brain decided to play a mean trick on me. You just wouldn't believe the dream I had.
     Most nights I can remember my dreams and they are fairly pleasant. My favorite one was the dream where I wound up on an island inhabited by a tribe of beautiful women and I was the only man. There is a lot I could share with you about on this one, but I care not to as it would adversely effect my status as a married man. The couch in the living room is comfortable, but I would rather sleep in my bed and not the couch.
      Here is my dream in a nutshell. Actually, I'm writing about it in this blog. The whole thing wouldn't fit in a nutshell and how could you read it if it was. Something written has to be orderly and on a surface where the letters are put out so that you could read it. I suppose you could put it on microfilm and put it in a nutshell, but you would need a reader to read the message. By the way, do people still use microfilm?
       It seems as though I was going to a shop to help a friend build something. That in and of itself is kind of scary because with my mechanical skills you don't want me around any sort of tools. I can be dangerous but that is another story and I didn't mean to bring down that storage rack. It was an accident. Let's just leave it at that, shall we.
      The friend's shop was located in the corner of a shopping center parking lot. The anchor tenant of the shopping center was a grocery store and the parking lot was very big. I parked my car out in the south forty of the lot.  For those of you in Poland or France or Boston, do I need to explain south forty? Let's just say I parked my car away from everything in an isolated corner of the lot. I locked my car and went into my friend's shop which was a part of a gas station.
       We had just finished what we were working on and I was about to leave. As I walked to my car a man came up to me and said, "You won't find your car out there."
        "Why?" I asked.
       "Its just been towed away to the gas station. There is a sign that says you can't park there over two hours and You've been parked there for two hours and five minutes. Your car is at the gas station and you have to pay to get it out."
        "What sign?" I asked. I looked around and saw no sign. This was a bit upsetting.
        I went back to the station to retrieve my car and was told by an attendant that he couldn't release the car and that only the manager had the authority.  The manager who was also the owner had gone for the day so my car would have to stay the night. There would of course be a storage charge. I was not going to pay the storage fee when there was on sign.
        The whole rest of the dream was me trying to get my car back. It seems as though the Supreme Court of the United States would not take the case.  At that point, I decided to pay the $1,000,000 storage charge
that had built up and just forget the whole thing. Admitting defeat, I woke up.

Had to change my mode of transportation.

     

Revenge Of The Machines

     So, I got my computer fixed.  It just doesn't end there though.  My computer is working fine and
doing exactly what I want it to do, but I think it kind of resented the fact that I got it fixed and can no longer cause me a great amount of frustration.  Machines talk to one another, and I think that they hold grudges, especially when we humans want to wrest control back from their dominance.  Such is the case with my car.
     Do you know how many computer components are on a car.  Yes, my car was manufactured--not made by the way because when you make something there is the possibility that you also install a personality or some form of intelligence--in 2004.  I realize that is old and the electronics on it are not as advanced as a car that is built--again built, not made--in 2015. But, like a grandson sitting at the knee of their grandfather they still talk to one another. They share stories and especially share conspiracies, especially on  how to drive humans crazy.
     Someone who is as techno-challenged as I am has no chance. We frustrate easily and machines know this.  Yes, I did have my computer fixed but it talked to my car. As a form of revenge it ordered my car to go on the fritz. You got to love the communication and networking.
     I put a lot of loving kindness in my car.  I give it baths and watch it's fluid levels.  Occasionally I even feed it high octane fuel.  Do you blame me for reacting the way I am. My frustration level is very high at this point. The options I have open to me are very narrow. I have to take it to a car doctor and have a machine tell the doctor what is wrong with it.
     The services that the doctor is going to perform on my car are pretty expensive and I am still at the mercy of another machine that diagnoses what is wrong. Once again and I can't say this strongly enough, it is a wicked conspiracy.  Think about it for a minute, how do I know that the diagnostic machine is telling the truth or just pulling my chain? What other machine is going to cause me a great amount of frustration after I get my car fixed?  All of this kind of makes you think, doesn't it?
     Maybe not.

Not my car anymore. I really miss that car.

No Joke--Literally

     I am very much aware of my job. That job is to bring a hearty laugh and a different perspective of the world around us to you my readers. Many have commented that I see the world through slightly skewed eyes. My observations are a bit different, to say the least and I hope that I have made you think a bit and perhaps chuckle. Today is a little different. I have nothing to share with you.
      My world of late has been pretty dull. Sometimes you look and do not find.  Such is the case with me and what is happening. It has been a busy few weeks and the events of the past few weeks have taken me away from my desire to write. That is sad, I know but it is true.
     I am afraid I have nothing witty to share with you today. Let me assure you that this is a very temporary state in which I have come into because my mind has been racing and my wife is about ready to throw me out of the house for some of the bad jokes that I have come up with recently. Please stay with me and experience this drought of humor with me.  I need the company.  By the way, maybe it is the lack of water here in California that is contributing to my drought of ideas. It could just be the debate over water or High Speed Rail here in California that is syphoning off my enthusiasm. Ooops, I am not going to turn this into a political column but I just couldn't resist.
     My advice is hang in there.  My mind can't be held in bondage for too much longer.

Blame Canada!

Things That Go Bump In The Night.

     We are moved!  We give the keys to the old house back to our former landlords today and then we are finished. Out with the old and in with the new. Now we turn the page and delve into a new chapter in our lives. That sounds poetic, doesn't it? It's not that new, we just moved into a new house not far from where we used to live. We are not moving to Outer Mongolia to become missionaries to the Bondag tribe who don't even speak English. The people who's house we are moving into are doing that for a year. Nope, we are just moving a few miles away from where we were living.
     Moving into a new house is always a fun experience. There is always excitement for anything new.  It does have its problems though.  You have to remember that I suffer for a pretty good case of ADHD.  I am not good at change. I have bumped that dad gum curio with the nicknacs  at least 100 times.  So has Denise. Do I turn right at the hall to go to the bathroom and left for the hall closet, or is it the other way around? You could just imagine the problems that could cause.
     Nights have been especially fun.  My brain isn't quite used to the new floor plan. I am not going to mention a very important thing that happens to a sixty year old man in the middle of the night.  Those of you who are men and over sixty know what I am talking about.  There should be a door here somewhere. Nope, It's a wall...BANG! Where is that bathroom door?
     As I said, we are finished moving out of the old house.  Now on to the next fun thing. We have to unpack. I guess I can find cheer in the fact that we aren't going to move soon, at least until the house owners get back in a year. This is kind of like shampooing your hair--rinse and repeat.

I guess you are wondering what a C-47 has to do with moving into a new house. Well, the C-47 moved a lot of cargo during WWII and beyond.  I know that's a stretch, but it will have to do.

Press To Start--Part 2 ( I Promise)

     I have a problem with new cars and technology, especially at 5:30 in the morning when you want to go to the gym and have not had your coffee yet.  All this is explained in Part 1 so I please go there now and read Part 1 if you haven't already done so. I'm sorry I had to give this to you in two parts, but I got tired and had to make coffee. In a nutshell, we rented a car and I was granted permission from my wife to drive it to the gym.
     Why is it that the good old car key is no longer in fashion?  It is a trusty little tool and can be put to use in a number of ways, not just starting the car.  I use mine for cutting string.  Let's face it, the things come in handy, but the car we rented had a keyless entry/operation system.  It had "The Orb". Aliens had come during the night an had taken the keys and left "The Orb". What had I done to offend those good people on the home planet and why did they take the key to the rental car?.
     What do I do with this "Orb".  It has symbols on it, but what do they mean.  Where's my trusty spy decoder ring that I got in that box of Froot Loops back in 1969? I didn't think that I would ever have to use it, but it was worth a try. Let's see, what does this symbol mean--oh yes unlock.  This symbol means lock.  I think I've got it. The time has come to tackle my fears of technology and try to drive the rental car.  I can do this. It was time to go outside and become the master of the rental car, so I did.
     There it was, sitting in the driveway, nice and shiny. That was a stupid sentence.  Where else would it be, at the city dump?  Of course it is sitting in our driveway nice, new and shiny. It's a brand new rental car, which you can't fit in in your garage because the Taurus is in there and all the junk you are storing for everyone else in the world. Yes, you do detect a bit of anger in my voice, but I just don't want to talk about that.  Sorry I'm off subject again, back to my car rental story.
     After decoding the symbols on "The Orb" I went outside to the car and pressed the button that said "unlock".  I heard the click of the door lock engaging and I was cleared by the car gods to enter the car. I opened the door and immediately that new car smell hit me. The interior was beautiful and what can I say, new.  It had leather seats and all the options you could think of. The leather seats reminded me of that Chrysler Cordoba commercial that ran in the 1970's where Ricardo Maltaban says "Feel the rich, Corinthinan Leather" when he talked about the interior.  What is "Rich Corinthian Leather" anyway. The smell was wonderful, but it was time to get in and I was almost late for my workout.
      It was a sensory thrill when I finally sat in the car behind the wheel. I wondered to myself what it was going to be like to drive this puppy. I was ready. I didn't have to put a key in the ignition, there was no ignition.  What there was though was a button that said in red "Push To Start". It was time, so I pushed the button.  The car came alive, all the dials and gauges lit up.  I thought I was in the space shuttle and about to launch.  Oh, that's right. The space shuttle no longer exists. Maybe I was in a Soyuz capsule, but I couldn't be because everything was in English, not Russian. Through all of this, the car DID NOT start.
     Let's press the pretty red button again.  It says on it "Press To Start".  I pressed it again and guess what, NOTHING! What am I doing wrong?  I pressed the button again and nothing.  I had pretty lights on the dash of the gauges and such, but the thing didn't start. Let's try it again. The thing wouldn't start and I was getting a bit upset. At this point I was very late for my workout, so I said the heck with this, locked the car with "The Orb" and went back inside to get the keys to the Taurus.  Remember, I said keys.
     I opened the garage door, unlocked the door to the Taurus USING THE KEYS and got in.  I put the KEY in the IGNITION and she started right up. I backed out of the garage, closed the garage door and off to my workout I went.
     What do you mean I have to have my foot on the brake in the rental car before I press the pretty "start" button for it to start?

My 350Z had a key.  I miss that car.