Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
DEAR ABBY ADMITTED SHE WAS AT A LOSS TO ANSWER THE FOLLOWING!
A couple of women moved in across the hall from me. One is a middle-aged gym teacher and the other is a social worker in her mid twenties. These two women go everywhere together and I've never seen a man go into or leave the apartment. Do you think they could be Lebanese?
What can I do about all the Sex, Nudity, Fowl Language and Violence On My VCR?
I am a twenty-three year old liberated woman who has been on the pill for two years. It's getting expensive and I think my boyfriend should share half the cost, but I don't know him well enough to discuss money with him.
I've suspected that my husband has been fooling around, and when confronted with the evidence, he denied everything and said it would never happen again.
Our son writes that he is taking Judo. Why would a boy who was raised in a good Christian home turn against his own?
I joined the Navy to see the world. I've seen it. Now, how do I get out?
My forty year old son has been paying a psychiatrist $50.00 an hour every week for two and a half years. He must be crazy.
I was married to Bill for three months and I didn't know he drank until one night he came home sober.
My mother is mean and short tempered. I think she is going through mental pause.
You told some woman whose husband had lost all interest in sex to send him to a doctor. Well, my husband lost all interest in sex and he is a doctor. Now what do I do?
Remember these people can vote which probably explains the current situation in
probably most definitely explains Barack Obama. But leave us not digress. Too much, anyway.
I’ve always liked this song (which: Gary Jules' version of Mad World by Tears for Fears), and this video struck me in just the right way this morning. Some people’s creativity is simply astounding, innit? The video is more than worth the wait to download, even if you’re on dial-up. If you have broadband just sit back and enjoy. Twice, even.
Yesterday’s “Quote of the Day,” (that would be MY term in quotes, not AFA’s) from the Air Force Association’s web site:
“What’s it like being retired?”
“My wife was asking me the other day, ‘What’s it like being retired?’ ... For the first year or so, I had plenty of time on my hands. I would get up whenever I would want in the morning. Nobody called me at night. I didn’t have anybody bugging me about work. No expectations. I could play golf whenever I wanted. And I told her I always wanted to know what it was like to be a Navy admiral.”
—retired Gen. Chuck Wald, joking about his experiences after leaving the Air Force in July 2006 following 36 years of service while addressing a Capitol Hill audience on energy security issues,
From a recurring feature titled “Verbatim,” which changes daily…
Monday, April 28, 2008
If you don't like this new "feature," go here to complain! You'll have to join the group first, though, but it's a fairly easy process. Hell, this Ol' Geezer (that would be me) figured it out, so it can't be THAT hard, eh?
Buck Pennington: Docked in Portales
Sunday, April 27, 2008
(Detroit News photo and caption.)
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Your elected officials (if ya live in
Republican Sen. Cary Baker, a gun shop owner from
The Florida Senate voted last week to add the measure to a broader transportation bill, but it is not included in the House version.
In a spirited debate laced with double entendre, Senate lawmakers questioned whether the state should curtail freedom of expression in vehicle accessories.
Critics of the ban included the Senate Rules Chairman, Sen. Jim King, a Jacksonville Republican whose truck sported a pair until his wife protested.
The bill's sponsor doubted it would succeed.
"It's probably not going to make it through the process," Baker said on Thursday. "It won't be much of story in a few days."
Yep, they got no balls, those guys… and they don’t want YOU to have any, either. Not visibly, anyway.
Don’t these guys have something better to do? Like change the date on the state’s primary election, or something? Anything?
One of the downsides of the hockey play-offs is the games pre-empt things I would otherwise watch… for reasons various and sundry. A classic example: The Obamanon’s former pastor, Reverend Wright, was on Bill Moyers Journal (transcript here, which I haven’t read, yet. But I will. After hockey.) last evening for an extended interview, in case you missed all the brouhaha surrounding this very public event.
Fox News touched on Wright-Moyers lightly, but CNN had extensive clips from the show and waaay too much “analysis” on the subject, which devolved into both extended navel-gazing interspersed with moments of highly charged, partisan argument between Hillary and Obama supporters. But… I don’t have first-hand knowledge of the interview itself because, as noted, I was watching hockey all evening and late into the night. That said, Ann Althouse has a lengthy and quite good post up on the subject today… if you’re at all interested. Excerpt:
Moyers plays a long chunk of the sermon that ends "God damn
Wright answers that governments can deviate from the will of God and says "you are made in the image of God, you're not made in the image of any particular government." What should follow is a statement about the degree of allegiance people owe to their country, but Wright jumps to an invocation of free speech: "We have the freedom here in this country to talk about that publicly, whereas some other places, you're dead if say the wrong thing about your government."
At this point, Moyers could follow up either with a question about the allegiance religious people owe to a country they think has deviated from the will of God or a question about how, while it's true that Americans have free speech, free speech includes criticizing the things people say. But Moyers observes, inanely: "Well, you can be almost crucified for saying what you've said here in this country." Moyers extends his heartfelt sympathy to Wright for the suffering — the suffering of Christ! — he's endured over mere words.
Wright accepts the comforting: "That's true. That's true. But you can be crucified, you can be crucified publicly, you can be crucified by corporate-owned media." You know, you could be nailed to a cross or you could be lambasted in the media. The corporate-owned media. (Getting criticized on independent blogs may not quite equate with crucifixion. Maybe we bloggers correspond to mere flogging or piercing with thorns.)
Moyers and Wright are fellow-travelers in my view. Moyers, as an über-lib, has never met anyone critical of
Anyhoo. If you don’t want to wade through Moyers’ puff-piece, Ms. Althouse has the salient points. Long, it is, but quite good.
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a hockey game to watch in about 10 minutes or so. One must prepare, ya know.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Apropos of not much…but, by way of introduction, this: I’m often struck by the quality of writing I encounter in my wanderings around these here inter-tubes. Or, more better, the absolute dismal state of most of the writing I encounter. Present company excepted, of course. All y’all write well, for the most part. There are exceptions…and all I can offer is: “if the shoe fits…” But in most cases it won’t fit. Mainly coz I have little or no tolerance for poor writing, there being some exceptions. I’ll leave it at that… criticizing others is not what we’re on about in this post.
The Second Mrs. Pennington and I, the both of us being professional writers (of a sort) and more to the point… she being an English teacher (of a sort)… used to have this on-going
argument discussion as to whether good writing can be taught, or not. My position has changed back and forth over the years and still isn’t firmed up to this very day. On the one hand, the mechanics of writing most certainly can be taught… which is to say grammar, punctuation, subject-verb agreement, and the like. Anyone with half a brain can go out and buy a copy of Strunk and White’s “The Elements of Style,” study it intently, absorb all the lessons therein, and call himself a writer. And a lot of people do just that. On the Other Hand… good grammar and punctuation doesn’t begin to make what we know as “good” writing. It’s a start, but only a start.
Once upon a time I considered myself a “good” writer. I’d taken several undergrad courses in English and composition, I had a fairly extensive writing background acquired as an additional-duty Public Affairs Officer (NCO, actually, but the title was “PAO”), and was recognized by various and sundry Air Force supervisors and such as a “go-to” guy when it came to putting words on paper. So, it came to pass (in my post-USAF career) I was assigned to a proposal writing team sometime in 1986 or thereabouts. And here for your illumination, Gentle Reader, is my very first effort in this space, as returned “for corrections” by my proposal editor:
Bloody. Literally dripping with blood, in the form of the dread red editor’s pen, and this is but four of 14 pages, all similarly deeply scarred and dripping red. Including all 14 pages in this post would be overkill, not to mention boring beyond belief. My draft was returned with a post-it attached that said “Good Work!” (the post-it has gone missing after all these years). I scanned my draft, bloody as it was, and immediately went to my proposal manager/editor and said words to the effect of “You think this is Good?”… to which she replied “Yeah. I didn’t tell you to re-write it, did I?” Well, OK, then.
So... I returned to my desk, made the corrections and re-submitted my draft, which was accepted without further edits. Things got progressively better for me (and my editor) as time went on. At the end of the six-month pursuit cycle I came out a much better writer than when I went in. My first proposal was a learning experience of the first order.
I became very, very close to my editor… a woman by the name of Mary who later went on to become an EDS corporate VP, and I had the delightful opportunity to work with her on a couple of other proposals while she was still doing that particular gig. I learned nearly everything I know about writing today from that woman… lessons that are much too detailed to repeat here but had a lot… nay, everything… to do with word-choice, economy of language, what to leave in your writing, and… much more importantly… what to take out. Another thing Mary emphasized is one needs to recognize good writing before one can even begin to emulate it. In other words: good writers are voracious readers. Mary was also of the opinion that the best writers read a wide variety of “stuff…” fiction, non-fiction, op-eds, soup cans, cereal boxes, and (she emphasized) poetry. Mary maintained poets are all about economy of language, which, to her way of thinking, is the very essence of communication.
Mary was a wise woman indeed. My only regret is I failed to keep in touch with her. So... take what you will from this, and leave the rest. Such as it is.
I know most of you Gentle Readers don’t give two hoots in Hell about my hockey posts (Becky), so here’s a few mundane, trivial, most un-interesting bits from life this past week…
I had an interesting sort of experience yesterday. So… there I was (all war stories told by USAF veterans begin this way, no matter how hair-raising or mundane they may be, and no matter if you’re still part of The World’s Greatest Air Force, or not. That’s just the way it IS, Gentle Reader.)… sitting at my desk around 1145 hrs, drinking the third cup of the day and making the rounds when the phone rings. Dr.Thompson’s office on the line…asking if I might could come in today and have that MRI done? Early? Dr. Thompson got his new MRI machine installed and the staff were going through training with a factory rep and they wanted real, live patients to practice on. Well, sure… but ya gotta give me a half-hour to clean up and get dressed.
I did just that (showered and scraped my face) and scooted on downtown. The ensuing 45 minutes were pretty cool, what with four women fussing over me, the Good Doctor hovering in the background, and such. The staff took two MRIs, and then I went on my way, but not before briefly discussing the wonderfulness of the new machine with the factory rep and staff. I was most gratified to learn the machine is American-made, and I said so…which prompted a brief round of vigorous north-south head nods and a couple of “ain’t that the truth” war stories. Until I said “But who am I to talk? I drive a Japanese car…” followed by incredulous looks from the staff and then (thankfully) laughter.
I really like my dentist, Gentle Reader, and the whole staff, for that matter. Good folks, they are. The best.
My motivational mojo has kinda-sorta returned. Enough for me to buy myself a new vacuum cleaner earlier this week (Hey. I said this was “small stuff.” Whaddaya expect?). I’ve been living with this lil piece o’ crap vacuum for the last five years or so, which is essentially a hand-held vac that fits into a handle with a built-in and supremely ineffective carpet brush as part of the bargain. But it was small and fit into my closet quite well, and space (specifically storage space and the lack of same in El Casa Móvil De Pennington) was the driving criterion behind its purchase.
So. I bring the new vacuum home and have to try it out immediately. Imagine my shock: after vacuuming this oh-so-small space I was startled to discover the dirt canister was half-full. This, after I had vacuumed a scant three days earlier. God only knows how many years have been taken off the life of my carpet because of inadequate cleaning. But: no more.
Still more evidence of returning motivation… I attempted to replace the tinted window film on the afternoon-sun-side of the house yesterday and was semi-successful. I’d bought new film at the same time I bought the new vacuum and set about trying to install it yesterday… only to give up in disgust. The instructions for said film said there was a “transparent protective film on the adhesive side” which must be separated from the film before application. Well, that might be true but I strongly suspect it’s NOT… coz I spent a half-hour trying to separate the non-existent “protective layer” from what was CLEARLY one single piece of film. I gave up in disgust and threw the whole shootin’ match in the trash. Fortunately I had some static-cling film left over from last year’s application and the remnants were just enough to cover one window.
It's not often you encounter situations like this without having to make a return trip to the store. I like it when a plan comes together...accidently, or otherwise.
“Walk away with victory…”
It’s an Al Green sort of day. And guess what? There’s NO wind to speak of! I’m gonna put this post up and go outside and fire up the first stick from a new box of Spanish Rosados, which the nice lady who drives the Brown Truck of Happiness put in my grubby lil hands this past Wednesday. And I’m gonna have a hefeweizen with it, too. Or two. Whatev.
So there you have it: an oh-so-mundane, yet 100% hockey-free post. You’re welcome.
Well, we took Game One…and the game was nearly as good as Wings – Avs games of old. Here’s Helene St. James, writing in The Freep:
Thursday, April 24, 2008
to Norman Pennington
subject order demotivators-4XXXX from Despair Inc.
Founder & COO,
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
I'd buy the shirt above if the verbiage was changed from "your blog" to "my blog." Coz it would be entirely (and sadly) true...but funny. I've always been into self-deprecating humor and this would most certainly fit if the change was made.
As promised, you are now a character in the stupidest play ever written. Well, actually, I didn't promise to make you a character in the stupidest play ever written, but that's how it turned out. Come see for yourself...
That's Jim talking. Do go. In addition to being entertained (highly entertained!), you’ll probably see some folks you know from the neighborhood in addition to YrHmblScrb. Who, methinks, delivers his lines quite well. (he said, modestly)
Monday, April 21, 2008
Some say John McCain's character was formed in a North Vietnamese prison. I say those people should take a gander at what John chose to do--voluntarily. Being a carrier pilot requires aptitude, intelligence, skill, knowledge, discernment, and courage of a kind rarely found anywhere but in a poem of Homer's or a half gallon of Dewar's. I look from John McCain to what the opposition has to offer. There's Ms. Smarty-Pantsuit, the Bosnia-Under-Sniper-Fire poster gal, former prominent
Some people say John McCain isn't conservative enough. But there's more to conservatism than low taxes, Jesus, and waterboarding at Gitmo. Conservatism is also a matter of honor, duty, valor, patriotism, self-discipline, responsibility, good order, respect for our national institutions, reverence for the traditions of civilization, and adherence to the political honesty upon which all principles of democracy are based. Given what screw-ups we humans are in these respects, conservatism is also a matter of sense of humor. Heard any good quips lately from Hillary or Barack?
Oh, my. Yes. Do read the whole thing, coz P.J. is at his finest here. And it’s more of a tour of (and a paean about) magnificent machinery and the kids that make it go than a political piece. I just chose the political bits because they rang MY bell, ya know?
Saturday, April 19, 2008
And about that major housecleaning: we wouldn’t want our offspring to think we live like pigs, now, would we? I’m VERY glad whenever visitors come through P-Ville. Incentive, ya know. It’s waaay too easy for me to do that “mañana” thing when it comes to housecleaning. I keep the place reasonably well picked up, dusted, and I do vacuum occasionally. But I did some major work today, such as getting rid of eleventy pounds of old NatGeos, Air Force magazines, and such. It was past time to purge, judging from the heft of the garbage bags I trundled off to the dumpster… and there was more, too. But I’ll not give you the play-by-play of my housecleaning activities.
So. All that is done and I finished off a late lunch from Subway about an hour or so ago. About which: as I was getting into the car to leave Subway, a 50-ish woman with a teenager and a couple of dogs in her Subaru pulled into the parking space adjacent to mine. I gave her a polite smile as she got out of her car and she quickly turned her head away from me. That puzzled me for a brief moment, but all was revealed as I backed out of my parking space and got a good long look at the back of her Subaru. The thing was literally covered with moonbat bumper stickers… a pristine “Kerry-Edwards” sticker (obviously well-cared for, maybe even waxed), several flavors of “Bush Lied – People Died” stickers, an Eastern NM U sticker, and an “Honor Teachers!” sticker, among many others. The last of which made me chuckle to myself. I do “honor teachers,” but I most definitely don’t honor those who flagrantly flaunt their ideological immersion, especially those of the “Bush Lied” persuasion. It doesn’t take too much imagination to picture what this woman’s classroom environment is like…
Oh. And why, you may ask, Gentle Reader, did the woman turn away and avoid my smile? I suspect it might have been this:
Today's Question: Why does it seem like it’s always Subarus that are festooned with moonbat shit? You rarely see a Ford or Chevy so adorned, unless it’s over 20 years of age (the car, not the owner).
Friday, April 18, 2008
Today is the 66th anniversary of the famous Tokyo Raid, led by General (then Lieutenant Colonel) Jimmy Doolittle. Wherein Gen. Doolittle and his brave men flew B-25s off of aircraft carriers to strike the heart of Imperial Japan. USAAF bombers…flying off of Navy carriers. As SJS sez: "Joint" before Joint was kewl.
Steeljaw Scribe has a great post (with video!) commemorating the event. And, as noted in the title, yet another
good great read.
But... there are more, and MUCH better, photos here...which is THE reason for this post. I'd have posted one of those pics, but the images are clearly copyrighted, much to my dismay. So you gotta chase the link. It's oh-so-worth your time to do just that. I had a hard time believing the images weren't photo-shopped. Amazing.
And... I think the clouds are aptly-yclept. Coz they look like huge celestial mammary glands. Thus spake The Dirty Ol' Man, reverently.
This lil item, while not the lede on memeorandum, is the second-from-the-top story as I type. From the LA Times: “Barack Obama makes a one-fingered gesture while speaking of Hillary Clinton.”
Whaddaya think? I think the Times has frickin’ lost it. You know I think Barry’s nothing but an opportunistic empty suit, Gentle Reader. But I just don’t believe he’s flipping Hillary off here, despite the Times’ claims, to wit:
He pauses. He smiles slyly as the crowd begins to mumble and then he tries, somewhat distracted, to continue his remarks, smiling as the buzz spreads through the crowd.
He'll no doubt deny it later, but that mischievous smile seems to confirm plenty. And the crowd sure sees something.
I call bullshit, as do most people commenting on the Times site. Some Dems, however, wanna believe!
Sheesh. (That's for The LA Times, not Taylor Marsh.)Update: A comment at Hot Air:
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Time of Visit: Apr 17 2008 1:17:29 pm
Last Page View: Apr 17 2008 1:21:49 pm
Visit Length: 4 minutes 20 seconds
Page Views: 2
Referring URL: http://images.google...0%26hl%3Dda%26sa%3DN
Search Engine: images.google.dk
Search Words: dog humping painting
Visit Entry Page: http://exileinportal...7_02_01_archive.html
Visit Exit Page: http://exileinportal...7_02_01_archive.html
Now, don't get me wrong. The search term is crude, not funny. But the image this Danish googler clicked through on?
PS: Click the search link if you doubt me. S'true.
So. Fast-forward about 19 hours and this is what we’re like today:
Ahh… Spring on The High Plains of