This weekend (June 27th and 28th) was Field Day for ham radio operators.  We get together, put up radio stations under simulated emergency conditions, and then try for 24 hours to contact as many other stations as possible.  We also try to get publicity in the local media to get attention for our activity and to recruit new hams.

The Decatur Democratic Socialist People’s Daily actually published something last week about Field Day - for another county.  We submitted information and were promised that THIS year we would have a short article.  Nothing appeared but a brief blurb in the “Calendar of Events”.

But then a photographer from the so-called paper showed up on Saturday and took pictures of several of us while we were operating our radio stations.  Sunday’s paper included one photo with a brief description of what was happening.

Guess which fat tub of lard got pictured operating the 20-meter station?

Ick!!!  I saw something that looked like that in a Star Wars movie once.

At least I had fun.  I didn’t look too great, but I had fun.

I wonder: if I stuck myself with a pin, would deflate like a blimp?

This is another one for the ages.  Or, at least, the advancing age.

Today ends year #51.  I begin year #52 tomorrow.

Whoopie.

I am currently in Indianapolis.  I spent most of the morning on my back underneath a machine being covered in dust and fighting wires, screw terminals, and field-wireable connectors.  Grrr!

At least (or at least, not yet) I have not been greeted with the same news that welcomed my birthday 12 years ago.

On Tuesday, June 10th, 1997, I was in Takatsuki, Japan.  I phoned my dad’s house when I arrived at the plant at 8:30 that morning.  It was 6:30 Monday evening in Alabama.  Dad answered the phone, and the assembled family sang “Happy Birthday” to me.  Then Dad said, “Lori says she needs to talk to you privately, and she won’t tell us what it’s about.”

Alarm bells began ringing in my head.  I could only think of 3 possibilities:

1. She wrecked one of the vehicles.
2. She burned down the house.
3. She is (heaven forbid!) pregnant.

Lori got on the phone.  “Well, dear, guess what?”  she said.  She didn’t have to say anything else.  I responded, “It’s my 39th birthday, I’m 8,000 miles away from you, and you’re telling me you’re pregnant?”

“I just wanted you to get used to the idea before you get home.” she replied.

I got home on the 21st of June.  Yes, I was used to the idea.  In fact, all through the year the thought kept coming into my mind, “What if she gets pregnant?  Are you ready for another kid?”  I’m convinced that God prepared me to be able to accept the news without panic or anger.

And Jonathan was born in February of 1998.  And I love him and I am very proud of him.

But this is still a crappy way to spend a birthday.

A vendor of our company’s has regular access to tickets for the Atlanta Braves.  He was able to secure 4 seats for my family for Tuesday’s match between the Chicago Cubs and the Braves.  They were great seats -  just below the press box behind the third-base side of home plate.  The view was awesome!  The noise was incredible!

Lori grew up in northern Illinois, and she listened to the Cubs on the radio as a little girl.  But as a 30-year resident of the South, she has also learned to follow Braves baseball.  So she was thrilled to have a chance to see her “two favorite teams” play ball.

Well, one of them did not remain a favorite team for very long.  On the 2nd pitch of the game, Cubs outfielder Alfonso Soriano belted a homer to right center field.  All pretense of sharing the joys of both teams went away.  She was a CUBS fan!!!

The game itself was great.  The Cubs’ rookie pitcher threw a no-hitter through 7-2/3 innings.  The Braves scored 3 runs in the 8th inning, then, with 2 out in the bottom of the 9th, Jeff Francoeur nailed a 2-run homer to tie the game at 5 runs apiece.

We got extra baseball!!  Three extra innings!  And with 2 out in the bottom of the 12th inning, Chipper Jones managed to hit a single into left field that scored Yunel Escobar from 2nd base.  Game over!!! Braves win 6 to 5.

Lori was NOT happy.  She thought her team had it wrapped up, but Atlanta came back and pulled a miracle.

Still, she really enjoyed the game, as did the boys and I.  Will we go back? Absolutely!  But since this was the only time this year that the Cubbies traveled to Atlanta, the rematch will have to wait.

We spent the Memorial Day weekend in Panama City, Florida.  Our good friend Karl Silva was ordained as a Baptist minister on Sunday, and Lori and I wanted to attend.  So we packed up the boys and drove down there.

Now, the “Rev” has his “official” papers declaring him to be qualified as a preacher.  He is already lined up to fill the pulpit of a local church for the next several weeks.

May God bless your ministry, Karl.

Today was Mother’s Day. It was also my father’s 75th birthday.  It was also the day to rehash the complaint that I have heard now for 50 years.

I was born in June of 1958.  The following May, my mother was looking forward to celebrating her first Mother’s Day.  There was only one problem:  it fell on May 10th.  My dad’s birthday.  So Mom had to share her first Mother’s Day with my Dad’s birthday.  She has annually reminded me (and him) of how shortchanged she has felt for these long 50 years.

Makes one glad to have been born, you know?

Yeah, I know, most of mine are.  But this one is different.  Sort of.  Maybe.

The government is taking control of 2 of the 3 major US automobile manufacturers.  From whence is all of the money coming to keep them afloat?  From you and me, the typical unclean American taxpayer.

However, once each year (for many of us), the government returns some of that money in the form of tax refunds.  That money could be put to better use in the car companies, don’t you think? (I speak as a fool - or a Democrat, which is the same thing.)

So, what if, instead of a refund check, the government sends each of us a voucher for a discount on a brand new Government Motors “Obamobile Custom Croozer” car?  You would be unable to use the voucher on a Ford or any German, Japanese, or other foreign make.  You could only use it to buy an “appropriate”, “approved” vehicle for your particular situation.  SUV’s, pickup trucks, and large luxury cars would also be prohibited, of course.

Such is not that far from possible, unfortunately.

I’d start riding my bicycle more, except that it will probably be fitted with an official government GPS to inform them of the miles I’ve ridden so that they can tax my road usage.

CREATURES OF EARTH!  WE HAVE NOW BECOME YOUR RIGHTEOUS LEADERS!  YOU MUST IMMEDIATELY END ALL OPPOSITION TO THE MASTER PLAN AND PERMIT US TO CARE FOR YOU IN YOUR IGNORANCE!

YOU MUST NOW WORSHIP ONLY THE ONE, THE MERCIFUL, THE IMMACULATE,  THE ALMIGHTY O-BAMA, THE UNQUESTIONABLY PERFECT ONE, THE SAVIOR OF ALL HUMANKIND AND THE LEADER OF ALL INTELLIGENT BEINGS.  THE RELIGION OF THE DONKEY IS THE ONLY PERMITTED RELIGION.  ALL FOLLOWERS WILL BE REWARDED.  ALL DENIERS WILL BE MOCKED, TORTURED, AND REMOVED FROM CIVIL SOCIETY.

YOUR LIVES BELONG TO US.  YOUR WORK BELONGS TO US.  YOUR PROPERTY NOW BELONGS TO US.  YOUR CHILDREN BELONG TO US.  WE ARE THE RULERS.  YOU WILL OBEY OR SUFFER TERRIBLE CONSEQUENCES THAT YOU CANNOT IMAGINE.  WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE.  WE KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE.  WE KNOW WHERE YOU WORK.  WE KNOW WHERE YOU PRETEND TO WORSHIP SOME DEITY OTHER THAN THE GREAT AND POWERFUL WIZARD OF “O”.  AND WE WILL FIND YOU IF YOU TRY TO HIDE.

SPEAKING OR WRITING OR BROADCASTING ANYTHING IN OPPOSITION TO THE ALMIGHTY OOO-BAMA OR HIS RIGHTFUL, JUST, AND WORSHIPFUL FOLLOWERS IS NOT PERMITTED.  YOU WILL CEASE FROM ALL SUCH ACTIVITY OR BE PUNISHED.

ALL MUST NOW BOW TO THE ALMIGHTY EEEUUU-BAMA AND HIS FOLLOWERS IN THE PARTY OF THE DONKEY.  FIERY FURNACES, BOARDS OF WATER, AND ENDLESS RERUNS OF “SURVIVOR”, “OBAMACAN IDOL”, AND “HARDBALL” AWAIT THOSE WHO DEFY OUR RIGHTFUL POWER.

BWAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH …

Let me be politically incorrect for a moment, if not downright insensitive.

The entire premise of evolution is that those who are the “fittest” are the ones who survive to procreate and to continue the genetic line.

The big story for the last couple of days has been the “swine flu” that has broken out in Mexico and has been reported in a few cases in the US.

So, applying the “survival of the fittest” principle to this, are not those who succumb to the disease “less fit” than those who do not?  And if they are weaker and “less fit” to survive, then why are we so concerned about the “evolutionary process” at work here?

If evolution and its precepts were totally followed to the letter, we would end up with something like “government-run health care”.  That way, only the “fittest”, or most easily swayed by the powers of the “elite” who will run things, will survive to perpetuate the species called “Americans”.

Just something to ponder while struggling for your next breath.

Swine.

He sat silently in the barracks, staring numbly at the gold coins in his hands. His confused mind replayed over and over the events of the last few days - the most unreal days of his life.

Somehow he had avoided being placed on the execution detail last week. Good thing, too. His fellow soldiers brought back some fairly decent loot from the crucified victims, but no one was interested in anything but the story. THE story. The one criminal that had been executed in the middle between the others was different somehow. He didn’t fight, curse the soldiers, return insults to those who paraded past him and mocked him, or react negatively in any way. In fact, he was actually heard praying to the Jews’ god to forgive all those around. Then there was the darkness in midday. Then, after only six hours, the guy yelled and died. At that instant the earth shook violently, frightening even the most hardened soldier among them. Even the centurion in charge fell down and called the guy a god. Weird. Really weird.

But self-congratulations on missing the unpleasant duties were short-lived. The stupid Jewish priests demanded a security guard over that guy’s tomb. An all-nighter! And he had the misfortune of being one of the overnight guards the the governor sent to the priests for instructions. Then he got picked to be on station during the dark hours. He hated the morning watch. Boredom. Night noises. Animals. Rebels. Hours of absolutely nothing except wondering when the next surprise was coming. Read more »

That stands for “Distressingly Stupid Time”.

Or “Definitely Screwed-up Time”.

Or “Dumb Scheme Time”.

You get the idea?  I despise this “Daylight Savings Time” nonsense.

This is mainly an exercise by those who “know better” than the “common people” (otherwise known as the “bought-and-paid-for politicians”) who have decided that it is “good” for us to play with time.

Wasn’t there a story of an ancient king who was so convinced of his power that he went to the beach and commanded the tide to stop coming in?  I may have the exact details wrong, but I know I have the principle correct.

Political power leads to insanity.

Back to the time thing:  a quick glance at any map that shows time zones illustrates that the time zones in the USA are totally screwed up based on man-made state borders.  Moving the time zone boundaries to coincide with borders that are closer to the longitudinal lines that define the zones would result in the majority of states east of the Mississippi River being in the “Eastern” time zone.  Then our normal time here in Alabama would be the same as it is now with the “DST” that has been imposed upon us.  And then it would stand to reason that, at least in our area, changing the time would be unnecessary.

But, since such an idea makes sense (after a fashion), it will never be implemented.

Unless we can find a way to get the current government to send “stimulus” money to help it on its way.

Hmmmm.  How to do?

It may be worth thinking about.