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How the day went

06:30 – Wake up.  House is quiet.  Roll back over

07:15 – Boo wakes up.  Announces his needs for the morning.  Go and quietly advise him to take care of his needs then play in his room without disturbing everyone else.

07:18- Boo is in his room playing.  Lay back down in bed

07:22 – Boo decides he’s done playing, comes into our room, and jumps off the third turnbuckle, laying an elbow into my sternum.

07:25 – I can breathe normally again.  Boo is asleep cuddled up to his mother.

07:27 – After counting to 10 in several languages and reconsidering selling my youngest son to the gypsies at a discount, I notice that Boo is awake and is giggling as his mother tickles him.

07:35 – Boo has fully awoken Irish Woman, who takes him out to get breakfast.  I decide to be a lazy soul for just a little while longer.

07:37 – I am up after getting “The Look”.  I think wistfully back on the days when getting up at 7:37 on a Saturday morning was ‘early’.

07:40 – Begin morning routine

08:30 – Irish Woman and I get in the truck and head up the road to get lumber, tools, and hardware to replace the posts on the side porch.

09:15 – After purchasing some of the hardware at our local farmers’ supply store, try to start truck.  No luck.  Doesn’t even crank.  Pop hood, notice that the negative post on my battery looks like brain coral.  While trying to knock off the large chunks, the connector to the negative post breaks into three pieces.  Inspection shows that it was corroded almost through.

09:25 – Have purchased a new battery connector, a set of linesman’s pliers, and a battery post cleaner at the farmers’ supply store.  Manager of the store notices that the hood of my truck is up and I’m buying tools and parts.  Sends out one of his minions to assist me.

09:35 – Connector is replaced.  Truck starts. Convince the young man who assisted me to take the $10 I offer.

09:45 – Arrive at lumber yard/hardware store.  Realize that we left our list of wood and other accoutrements, along with the gift cards we were planning to use to pay for these supplies, at home.  Smile quietly to my wife, who was the one who was carrying them as we prepared to leave the house, then put the truck back in gear and head home.  Assure her that I do not mind driving the 15 miles back to the house and returning.

10:30 – Return to lumber yard/hardware store.  Gather hardware and tools.  Spend 45 minutes sorting through posts trying to find enough wood that is straight and intact.  Explain to teenage employee why one should not use wood that is twisted, not square, and full of knots/bark for structural timbers.

11:45 – Pay for lumber and hardware.  Load up truck.  Have to explain to Irish Woman that it’s OK, and that 12 foot lumber can hang off the back of the truck if we secure it and put a flag on it.  Eventually she is convinced when the attendant at the store tells her the same thing using the same words.  Remind myself how lucky I am to have her.  Finish loading.

12:30 – Back at home.  Check weather outlook.  Doesn’t look good.  Jacking up the carport/porch and trying to replace posts during a thunderstorm is probably not a good idea, so I’ll put that off until tomorrow or Monday. Informed that I have other things that need doing.  What would I do without my wife to keep me on task?  Probably drink beer and watch college football, and who wants to do that all afternoon?

13:00 – Assist in cleaning up yard and harvesting latest batch of tomatoes and green beans.  The green peppers are finally starting to take off.  The cucumbers are officially done, as are the sunflowers.

13:05 – Boo lets the dogs out of the yard.  Retrieve Blue and Shadow and put them back in the yard. Put Boo in with them.  Lock gate and return to yard chores.

13:22 – Boo figures out how to unlock gate, lets dogs out again and joins them in a run for freedom. Retrieve progeny and pets.  Consider paying gypsies to take all three.

14:00 – Finish yard chores.  Unload lumber onto side porch.  Test out new bottle jack.  Wonder how I got so far in life without owning one.

14:30 – Sit down for 5 minutes in my chair.  Wake up 3 hours later rested but with a horrendous crick in my neck.

17:30 – Woken up by Irish Woman, who has made dinner.  One bowl of chili with corn bread and cheddar cheese later, I am stuffed.

18:00 – Notice it’s raining when a bolt of lightning and a thunderclap go off directly over the house.  No casualties except for the cat’s psyche.

18:15 – Look out and realize that Timmy the outdoor cat has a rather large frog from Irish Woman’s pond in his mouth.  Go out in the rain, get cat to drop frog, pick up frog in paper towel to return to pond.  Boo thinks frog is really neat and asks if he can keep him.  Frog is now named “Mister Frog”.  Mister Frog looks entirely nonplussed by his new moniker.  Mister Frog is returned to pond.

19:00 – Rain seems to have stopped.  Sun comes out.  Outside air feels like the inside of a steamed clam.  Go to Stop-n-Stab to get a soda.  Apparently going to the corner store on Saturday night in my neighborhood dressed like Joe Shit the Ragman is unusual, because the crowd of nicely dressed teenagers and hipsters parts before me like the Red Sea.

19:30 – Begin watching Muppet Treasure Island with Boo.  This may be the most intellectually stimulating thing I’ve done all day.

21:00 – Movie over.  Time for bath and bed for Boo.  Tuck-in is relatively uneventful.

21:15 – Boo needs a drink of water

21:22 – Boo needs to use the bathroom

21:30 – Boo reminds us that he only got one hug from each of us tonight

21:38 – Boo begins singing songs from Disney movies.  He is quickly hushed and reminded that it’s time to go to sleep

21:53 – A quick check of Boo finds him sleeping sideways on his bed with no covers nor evidence of PJ’s.  Cover him back up.

22:00 – Tell Girlie Bear that she’s had enough fun for one night and send her off to bed.  Get cleaned up, do some web surfing, start to get drowsy.

22:28 – Finish web surfing.  ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

30 Days of Abraham Lincoln – Day 29

Truth is generally the best vindication against slander. — 1864

My Take — The truth shall set you free, as the saying goes.  Writers like Linoge and Borepatch, who cross swords with hucksters using only their brains and their words, do more to shine light on an artificially dark world in one post than I can ever do in a lifetime of singing into the echo chamber.  The proper defense against a press that is dedicated to only telling the news that they like is to broadcast the truth for any who wish to hear.  Those who watch and report, even when we are admittedly partisan in what we watch, are the answer to “Who shall watch the watchers?” when the watchers have decided that being impassive observers does not serve their personal ambitions.

Today’s Earworm

 

Today’s Earworm

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

I, for one, don’t have a problem.   I can stop anytime.  Really.

30 Days of Abraham Lincoln – Day 28

We all declare for liberty; but in using the same word we do not all mean the same thing. — 1864

 

My Take – I have to believe that those who oppose me do so because we disagree on definitions and ideas, not because one of us is evil and the other one is less so.  We both want freedom and prosperity, but we disagree on what those words mean.  I believe in freedom of speech and religion, and equality of opportunity.  They seem to believe in freedom of speech and religion also, but in other ways.  They also believe in equality, but it seems to be equality of outcome, not opportunity.  They believe that freedom means being free from fear and from want.  I believe that freedom means being free from interference in my quest to provide for myself and my own, so that we need not feel fear or want.

That’s not to say that our disagreements do not get heated and personal, for they do.  But even when I am mocking them, I try to remember that they are still human beings and fellow Americans.

There are those who do not wish for freedom for anyone other than themselves, but I don’t consider them opponents. They are beneath my contempt, and I consider them the same way I consider all parasites.  I’m sure the feeling is mutual.

 

Thoughts on the Evening

  • Dinner tonight – Homemade french onion and mushroom soup, served under toasted sourdough bread and toasted provolone.  Hey, I didn’t get fat because Irish Woman can’t cook.
  • After eating soup that just came out of a 500 degree oven as fast as I could without requiring skin grafts, I was off to a parent’s meeting for Girlie Bear’s JROTC class.
  • The class is taught by a retired master sergeant and a retired colonel of infantry.  I’m not sure how old these two are, but I’m pretty sure the colonel has an efficiency report signed by Joshua.
    • And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
  • It is refreshing to go to a gathering at the school and be told that if my daughter works hard, I shouldn’t have to pay out-of-pocket for her to do any of the extra things that JROTC offers like field trips, camping, and white water rafting.
    • Of course, that means I’m trading green dollars for spare time, but I prefer to trade sweat for cash.
  • If Girlie Bear ever says she’s bored, there’s more for her to be doing.
  • Girlie Bear signed up for the school rifle team, and did the safety briefing/training this week.  Next week they weed out those who didn’t learn.  I’m hoping she remembers what I’ve taught her.
  • The colonel stressed that he is not a recruiter. He pushes education, respect, and self-reliance.
    • He is, however, proud of how many of his students go on to either join the military or attend the service academies.
  • It says a lot that a good percentage of the adults who help with JROTC have kids that graduated years ago, but still want to contribute.
  • Girlie Bear is one of 205 JROTC cadets at her high school this year, which is astonishing.
    • To put it in perspective, my high school in California cancelled its JROTC program a few years before I came along because no-one was signing up for it.
  • The program includes mandatory community service.
    • It’ll either get the kids used to the idea of doing for others or it’ll get them ready for their first rungs on the judicial punishment ladder.
  • The colonel enforces the school dress code on both students and parents who participate.
    • Quote – “I don’t need to see it.  You don’t need to show it.  Put on some clothes.”
  • Apparently Girlie Bear is going to be issued both ACU’s and a green dress uniform.  Proper wear one day a week will be part of her grade.  Guess I’m going to have to find my old copy of AR 670-1.
  • Use of the word “yeah” by a cadet got all of the cadets doing pushups.
    • They all did it with smiles on their faces.
      • That’s a very good sign.

Thought for the Day

Some days I look back through my past to a day where I sat out in the hot sun, dirty as I’ve ever been, my clothes smelling strongly of riot gas and sweat, scrubbing away at a rifle that was probably older than me, surrounded by guys who were as dirty or dirtier than I was, and think “Wow, life was so much simpler then.”.

30 Days of Abraham Lincoln – Day 27

Must a government of necessity be too strong for the liberties of its own people, or too weak to maintain its own existence? — 1861

 

My Take – As a voter and a taxpayer, I’m a mean sumbitch to work for.  I want that which the government is supposed to be doing done very well and very efficiently.  On the other hand, I want that which the government isn’t supposed to be doing left undone by the government.  It’s a balancing act, which I know has rarely, if ever, been done.  But it seems that in my lifetime, the government has not only overdone that which it should not do and neglected that which it is mandated to do, but has done so with malice and forethought.

My hope is that we are starting to swing the pendulum back toward the middle, where the government is a minor annoyance in our lives as it conducts its necessary business. It’s a slow swing, and the trick will be keeping momentum without going too far into a state where the government does not have the power to do its duty, but I think we can make it happen so long as we don’t rush to the first strong man who claims to know the way to paradise or tear down the entire structure of the Republic to do it.

Get a Rope

Several soldiers in the U.S. Army are accused of plotting attacks on other soldiers at Fort Stewart in Georgia, plotting to violently overthrow the government of the United States, and then murdering a 19-year-old fellow soldier and his 17-year-old girlfriend because they were “loose ends” after the 19-year-old decided to leave the group and the Army.  This isn’t a case of a bunch of loudmouths getting drunk and shooting off their mouth after a frustrating day at the motor pool.  This is actual planning of terrorism against the county they pledged to defend and then murdering two people who they feared would report them.  In a just world, any of these offenses, if proven in a court-martial, would lead to the offenders dancing a jig in midair.

First, let’s start with the easy one: murder. There are precisely two reasons for a soldier to take a human life:  Either as part of his legal mission, or to protect himself and others from unlawful violence.  Both of these are rare.  In this respect, these pieces of garbage are no better than the MS-13 scumbag who has his ex-girlfriend carved up so that she doesn’t report him to the law, and should be treated accordingly.  The fact that they did this to a fellow soldier and his young girlfriend only aggravates the situation.  Those who planned this atrocity, carried it out, or either witnessed it or knew about it and did nothing deserve not only severe punishment, but the infamy that comes with it.

As for the other charges, that they planned to kill their leadership at Fort Stewart, lead a mutiny against the government, and kill members of the civilian leadership are, if possible, even more disgusting.  The sanctity of civilian leadership over the military was established by George Washington during the Newburgh incident in 1783, in which a group of officers in the Continental Army plotted to stage a coup against Congress, and possibly ensconce Washington or one of his subordinate generals as ruler of our infant nation, but were persuaded to let it go by General Washington.  Put simply, it should be anathema for soldiers to consider overthrowing their civilian leaders, just as it should be impossible for a child to consider murdering his parents.  Soldiers are not expected to agree with the government, or even like it, but they are expected to follow their legal orders, no matter what, and that includes paying respect to the principle of civilian control of the military.

As an example, I served through the Clinton administration.  Years of cost cutting, coupled with increased operational tempo running ourselves ragged tending to whatever weeping sore the world developed, wore a lot of us very thin.  To say that President Clinton was unpopular with the military would be a gross understatement.  One of the guys I served with, who was my peer in rank, was from Arkansas, and had a personal animus against the Clintons.  Off duty and away from junior soldiers, he wasn’t shy about expressing his hope that the president would end his days as deputy assistant director in charge of unclogging stuck drains at a feed lot.  But he never breathed a word of it on duty, and heaven help you if you were a soldier that bad mouthed the President or any other part of the government within earshot of him.  In his opinion, and it’s an opinion I share, soldiers do not get to  be political while on duty, and a soldier who disrespects his leadership is a very dangerous thing.

The accused at Fort Stewart failed to figure out how this all works.  If you disagree with the government while you are in uniform, you either learn to live with it and make sure your orders pass the legality sniff test, or you get out and become politically active.  If you do this, you have the ability to change the course of the Republic without endangering it.

If these dingbats are convicted, I hope they swing high in front of their unit.  Apparently the FBI hasn’t been able to figure out if there might be more of their ilk in their units, so maybe seeing the ones we can find twisting in the wind will convince them to walk away from their plans to betray their oath to the country.

 

An Open Letter

Dear Douchebag,

I read with interest a news article about your company, Veteran Clothing, which markets its line of apparel to males aging from 16 to 24 by using military imagery such as the Purple Heart and the hand salute.  While I applaud you for coming up with a new business in these hard economic times, I have to take exception to your choice of name and the symbols you use to make a buck.

Let’s be honest, no matter how much you protest, you are not a veteran of much else but flogging the dolphin to 30 second Internet videos, which, if word ever got out that you watched them, would get you shunned by a two dollar hooker the week before the welfare checks come out.  You’re not old enough to be a veteran in your field, and you admit you’ve never put on a uniform.  So drop the pretense that you can ethically use the symbols and terms you chose to market your sweatshop seconds, and be honest with the douchebags who put them on.  Tell them that they are ignorant dummies, and the only reason they wear your dreck is so that they can impress their ignorant dumbass friends with how “hardcore” they are, and that you are more than happy to capitalize on that.

Besides the name you chose for your company and your products, there are two things that you do that catch in my craw like an inhaled dung beetle:  the use of hand salutes in your advertising and the Purple Heart on your tee shirts.

The hand salute is used to express respect either from one professional to another or from a professional to an ideal such as the flag or the national anthem.  If you’ve never been saluted or had one returned to you, you just cannot understand this concept fully.  That is one of the reasons why when a civilian president, who has never served in the military, does such a horrible job returning salutes, it makes my teeth grind.  The hand salute is one of the first things you are taught in the military and it is the last thing rendered unto you when you are buried.  It is that important.  Your use of some horse’s ass in baggy pants smacking himself in the forehead in a parody of what should be a respectful gesture highlights your lack of understanding of what you are doing.

The Purple Heart is an award given to recognize the pain and trauma that a servicemember goes through when they are injured in combat.  It is the one award that no-one wants, but everyone respects.  I have never been wounded, but I have worked with people who have been and are recovering.  The pain and heartache they and their families go through is the reason we honor them, for they do it on our behalf.  The person wearing a Purple Heart has literally shed their blood for you and me, and you using that symbol as a moneymaker disgusts me.

In closing, I hope that you find it in your heart to change your ways and your marketing.  There are many things in American culture that you can mock and exploit to make money, so I’m sure that you will not have to tax yourself too badly.  It’s a forlorn hope, but with asshats like you, that’s about all I have.  Please don’t bother to pledge some pissant percentage of your profits to a veteran’s group.  It’s too late for you to buy class.

Sincerely,

Daddy J. Bear