Ramblin' Ed Abernathy

I think the joint has finally moved

2011-03-08T17:05:00.004-05:00

I am verbally nimble, though that won't get you out of the way of a wildly careening truck. I have a sharp wit and a dull ache. They say that after 2 AM there are no ugly women, but in San Diego in the wee early morning hours I have bedded ugly women. I am not proud of it, just guilty. Bucky Katt is my hero.

I have pretty much moved this joint to Facebook now. Much easier to keep up to date in real time. Some say it's a time suck. Even more say it's addicting, but I can handle it. I mean, c'mon man, I can quit it anytime I want to.

Adios

Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.

2011-01-29T13:31:00.025-05:00

About that technology ...
Potential GOP presidential candidate Michele Bachmann says she is worried that the new airport screening technology could lead to nude pictures of her being leaked out, the Minneapolis Post reports. Where do they find these so called "candidates"?

I sat today in the front yard, slow burning a stogie and hanging out inside my head. I like to just sit. The neighborhood was pretty quiet, the air was anticipatory. There was a storm off in the gulf and it was rolling this way. The air was warm and sultry, but with that cool, tinny feel that the rain...is...almost...here. So yeah, anticipatory.

I see a lot of things that I see all the time without. Seeing. Like Nancy's yard. She has a small orange grove in her back yard. Today I realized there were literally hundreds of oranges on the ground. Looked like the water around a sinking ship as they jettisoned everything to get lighter. It was just amazing, the number. OK, amazing to me.

Pat's yard looked perfectly orderly. All the plants where they belonged. Uniform in size, straight in their borders. Now this is Florida and in the time it takes you to run inside and get a glass of water plants will jump their borders and wild vines will swallow your fence. At least all of our weeds have flowers, so when you finally give up on trying to control nature it's still pretty. What struck me as pretty amazing is that no one ever works in the yard. Ever. It just kind of stays this static perfect on its own.

Been working on this post about 5 weeks now. Type a couple of sentences, then either delete them or move on. you know why, too. Shivagitter's broken. Been visiting with my friend, Ben Gonna. Almost did a lot of things...but didn't. Anyway, I am here today because the wife has gone to that crazy place women go and I am just trying to make myself small. I don't know why God would ingrain so deeply the need to constantly re-arrange the furniture in the house without also endowing them with the upper body strength to satisfy those urges. Those urges which peak at the same time the best ball games are airing. And for some reason are requiring of male assistance all-dang-DAY!

Speaking of inspiring ball games, it's a great time to be an NC State basketball fan. Oh, wait. No, it isn't. I keep waiting for Sidney Lowe to turn them around, but he just ain't getting the same quality of folks that Duke, Carolina, Ga Tech and them are getting.

Been working mightily on my Spanish. I understand a lot more than I did before. In my mind I can speak pretty well on a couple of subjects. It'll take a while to really grow my vocabulary into anything useful. But I can do directions, introductions, and simple descriptions. I know my numbers, days of the week, and colors. I know right from left from straight ahead. So I am getting there. My accent, however, is a bit of an impediment to being understood. I practiced what I could with the Colombians who were here last week. My reply to the first "Como esta?" thrown my way was, "No bien. Necessito un poco cerveza," which caused smiles all around. Partly because it was a humorous answer, but mostly because I butchered most of the pronounciation. Oh well. It is what it is.

On tap for a two week trip to London. This one is firm. Every previous trip to Europe has fell through or been rescheduled. Ought to be downright freezing there, at the end of February. Here,it has been nice. I guess it was around 70 today. I shed the shirt and read the paper outside under the orange tree. Of course, I went in every now and then to help with the great furniture migration. If I don't show at least a token interest in what's going on, well...

Loving American Idol. Who knew Steven Tyler would be such a positive influence on the show? I think it is better than it's been for some time. And, while most of you don't know and couldn't really care less, Nigel Lithgow is back to producing the show. Trust me, that is a good thing. So, I'm a fan.

"Sooooo, Tomo. Tell me 'bout this Godzilla fellow". "Well, actury, Noah-san, it's Godzira. And he's a real bad ass. OH NO! There goes Tokyo..."

I grabbed both the Japanese class and the Colombian class and took them out for a little bit of St. Petersburg culture. I am not sure why I appear so less than enthused, though.

As I attempt to get my kindling going (it rained hard the day before, which always makes for a smokey start to things), Noah supervises the group working on the other fire pit. Noah is a good supervisor as a) he likes to help carry the wood and b) he likes to put wood on the fire. He's not particularly long in the patience department though and he would, without oversight, build a 30 foot wall of flame. Dang 4 year olds!

See, I am NOT driving. I asked him if he could keep it in a straight line and he said "Yep". He was delusional. The dog, by the way, was both delusonal and quite circular. He circled the tractor the whole time we were on it. DRE calls him Circle Jerk cuz he runs in circles and is none too bright.

We've certianly had a freeze warning here and there, I won't lie. But I have been so very thankful that I don't live and haven't traveled in the NorthEast or New England this year. From what NBC nightly news (with Brian Williams or Lester Holt) has shown me, ya'll have got the smack down from old man winter. And every time you try to get back up you get another smack down.

I'm sorry, but I still don't know why anybody is against the health care bill. I mean in principle.

I am glad to see the Middle East in a political revoloution. Seriously. A few democracies in the area would be good. Or at least a secular government or two. I hope that what the one protester said comes to pass, "No longer will religion be politics."

And seriously, could you ask for a classier military? They have kept their hands clean, run tanks up between the factions when things got too heated, and laid out smoke screens to give whichever side was getting whooped at the time cover to get out of there. I have been quite impressed with their restraint.

I am pretty sure that our economy is getting much better. You can't tell it from reading the newspapers, though. However, using my unscientific "Jerkometrics" methodology, I have seen a marked increase in both cars and aggressive driving in my morning commute. It had dropped down to a sane number of cars and a unharried drive, but now it has once again turned into an every man for himself scramble. Luckily, we here in this area are steadfastly against mass transit in any way, shape, or form.

To that, I say, build the mass transit. Despite the ignorant chorus that anything not the status quo is a "job killer" (new buzzword, same lack of factitude seeing as how we massacred tens of thousands of jobs with the status quo). Somebody will have to build it (jobs), administer it (jobs), and will inevitably begin to develop businesses to cater to the riders along the route (dare I say it? Construction and retail jobs). I saw a trolley built is San Diego, with very limited routes. 25 years later the routes are expanded and entertainment areas, retail shopping, and dining line its routes. Bankok was considered a bad bet for the elevated train due to it's cheap and plentiful taxis. Now that sucker goes all over town with full cars and its success convinced them to also build a subway system, also very successful. Boston. Portland. Chicago. Commuter trains make sense.

Just build them. And if you'd prefer, YOU can play rockem-sockem bumper cars on the way to work each morning and I'll ride them.

And back to Idol. Lay off Steven Tyler. He's a trip. And we can only dream to be that cool when we're 65.

A little John Hiatt to get us on out of here.

Buddha was not a Christian, but Jesus would have made a good Buddhist, out

Ramblin' Ed

I loathe people who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven't got the guts to bite people themselves.

2010-12-24T08:18:00.000-05:00

I was probably right at 18 years old. Or 19. But not 17, of that I am sure. She was what I would suppose could best be described as, what?... pre-Goth. Kind of in the direction of what is now Gothic, but without all of the make-up and affectations. Anyway, back then I just found her dark and mysterious. She was Italian-American, as so much of my high school was back in the 1970's I knew her, from around school. Had one of those names that I had to stop and think about before I said it. One of them vowel ending names. It was DiFillippi or Boniocilli or something. Didn't matter since I never spoke to her.

Back in high school I was pretty sure that none of the girls were interested in me. Which is surprising, since more than a couple, who were for sure out of my little North Carolina swamp stomping self's league, went out with me. But I was always so surprised to get a yes from them, that apparently I never saw a pattern to it. But, I meander.

I was at a party. Or get together. Or bonfire. Or otherwise not all by myself. I believe it was a graduation party for someone who, unlike myself, wasn't going to still be trying to graduate two years past when they should. She was standing near me, turned, leaned into my ear and said, " Hey, let's take off and go to The Rocky Horror Picture Show." Well, hell! Me being all suave and debonaire like I was back then, replied, "Man, sounds good. But I don't really like to be scared that much." She laughed at me and told me I was going anyway. "Trust me, " she said, "you'll like it."

And while I had never even considered that there might be a movie about a transvestite Dr. Franenfurter making a gay monster...a musical at that!.... she was right. I did find it enjoyable. And we went another 2 dozen times or so, driving all the way into Tampa every Friday night.

In junior high, the pretty girl beside me was trying to strike up a conversation with me because, as we have previously established, I was pretty clueless about things. She ased me if I liked Deep Purple? And me, being all suave and debonaire like I was back then, replied, "I really prefer deep blue. But light purples aren't too bad." Her Dork-O-Meter pegged! "The group. The rock band Deep Purple." I tried, but did not recover so much as just smile back as she laughed. At least she laughed in amusement.

I got me some more stories of what all ignorant stuff I have done and stupid things I have said. They run the gamut from eating an omlette I was sure I wouldn't like (but I did), and not only because said cook came out to cook it for me in her underwear. While her mom was not amused squashed the idea in it's infancy, I must say I did appreciate the gesture.

I have tried to swim with alligators, but fortutiously was unsuccessful. Got stuck in the mud half way between the Gulf of California, which was much further off than it appeared, and the deserted highway running up from San Felipe, Mexico to Mexicali, CA. Got woke up by CHIPS, after spending the night with a girl in my camper on a hillside near Poway, CA only to discover that we were not as remote as we had thought because we were actually overlooking I-5. (That one continued at a Denny's a little while later when a table full of Troopers were laughing about us. So yes, I have shown my butt to a highway patrolman at least once.)

Basically, girls kinda lead me places and I just doofy along behind them.

Was driving home yesterday, listening to Outlaw Country on Sirius, and most of what they play isn't even country although I really like it. It ought to just be called Outlaw Music. Anyway, a song kicked off and the first line was, "If you're gonna be dumb then you gotta be tough." Can't argue with that.

It was a girl that turned me onto David Allan Coe. And though we've since gone off in our different directions, I will always be indebted to her for that.

Y'all can mosey on off if you want. This is the me-centric part of the post where I indulge myself. But if you're still here and you'd like, some videos from a couple of my favorite songwriters. I love great lyrics and these two are some of the best.
Lucinda, ladies first. Sure wish I had written this.

(Factoid: Ray Wylie Hubbard wrote UP AGAINST THE WALL REDNECK MOTHER for those old as me who can remember that.) I wish I'd written this one too, but I can't state anything simply.

Brad and Janet are forced to seek shelter in a nearby castle that is home to notorious sexual deviant Dr Frankenfurter and his army of debauched misfits, out
Ramblin' Ed

I generally avoid temptation unless I can't resist it

2010-11-28T07:39:00.005-05:00

Hola, peeps.

Took off about 4 AM on Black Friday. The crowds at the Super Target on Bloomingdale Ave were large and restless. It was a sea of people, who for some reason, needed a 32" TV at 4 AM. Luckily, I was driving past them on my way to Miami. Yep, another South Florida fishing trip in search of the not so elusive Peacock Bass.

Just past the Super Target we jumped on I-75 Southbound, setting a blistering 65 MPH pace all the way down to Naples. The road turned to the east and we turned with it, paying our two dollar and fifty cents toll to drive across a gatorless Alligator Alley, which means, I suppose, we paid a toll to drive through what would merely be an alley. Wait a sec. We were pulling a boat trailer. No extra axles for free on a toll road. I must ammend this to read that the road turned to the east and we turned with it, paying our five dollar toll to drive across a gatorless Alligator Alley, which means, I suppose, we paid a toll to drive through what would merely be an alley. FIVE DOLLARS & NO GATORS!! What a ripoff. (And $5 back, too.)

Turns out that the new lake DRE wanted to try was literally in the only neighborhood in Miami that I am completely familiar with. We were fishing at Airport Lake/Blue Lagoon which, coincidentally, was right beside the Airport. I work at airports! So I am fishing in the back yard of the hotels I stay at when I'm there for work. Had I known they had the peacock basses in the water there, I'd have brought along a rod on previous trips. I will next time for sure. I have been sitting around the pool, shirtless, enjoying a cigar when I could have been sitting out on the rocks, shirtless, fishing and enjoying a cigar.

From the lake, a bunch of canals went thisaway and that. So once you get to fishing, you can just meander all over the place. Normally we fish out in the woods, so it was cool to look up and see a plane looking like it was going to land on you, or to be cruising from neighborhood to neighborhood while fishing. It was a lot like the boat rides through Bangkok's canals, except we didn't have to pay and we never encountered a floating market. But we did come face to face with a surprising number of the wild urban iguanas. Miami is a lot of things, many just a bit surreal and not all of them pleasant, but it is never dull.

At one point I noted that we were in a boat, fishing beside a railroad track that ran between the runways and a freeway. Although, it was not a freeway since it charged a toll, a distinction I just snapped off as I typed that. So I will leave the quote I made unmolested. By the way, I just thought about the signs we have at all of our retention ponds in the Tampa Bay area that say do not feed or molest the alligators. I always think that the warning to not molest the alligators should be removed so as to not to upset the Darwinian balance of the universe.

I am on a learning kick. I hope. I tell people all the time, but while they hear, they never listen. I am surrounded by people who reach a level, any level even a bad one, and get comfortable. But I tell them, once you get here, look to see how you get there, then learn what you need to reach it. And if your employer will pay for it or subsidize it, all the better. Then I'm done. I mean, you can lead a dope to water, but you can't make them think. But me, I'm going to at least try.

So, I got the company to purchase Rosetta Stone Spanish (Latin America). Except they didn't. They had me research it. Twice. They had me write up a proposal that included cost, coverage, and licensing information. Twice. They told me we were going to do it. Twice. Then I was ultimatly informed that Spanish For Dummies was only $29 and that's the way they'd decided to go with it. I imagine that at some point, while we are down in Latin America trying to grow our business opportunities, one airport manager is going to turn to another and say something like, "Their Spanish makes them sound kinda like dummies".

So anyway, I just bought my own Rosetta Stone. And it was not cheap. But being bilingual is better than not being bilingual. I am going to attempt to put it on my taxes as an uncompensated business expense, because it is. I expect to be training operators down in Colombia and Costa Rica and who knows where else. I want to know at least a little Spanish. In real life I can get through an order at Pollo Tropical with out it.

But wait, there's more. I also put in an external training request for a full course in Linux. I especially have difficulty moving around in our software and configuration menus because you have to type the command lines and that kind of stuff does not come naturally to me. I will, in effect, be learning a second foreign language. But the products are requiring more and more fiddling around with the command lines and I don't want to be the old guy that got stuck in one spot and couldn't keep up as technology changed. And I know I am close to becoming that guy because I am not particularly interested in smart phones and don't see why I'd want to watch video on them. So, I am at the cusp of becoming a crusty, ill-tempered, old curmudgeon anyway in real life, no need to be one at work also.

My fall of self-improvement, if you will.

I watched The Bad Lieutenant. The reviews were good. The movie was bad. Although, Harvey Keitel is always a trip to watch. Just like Dennis Hopper was. But I digress. Anyway, do I learn not to pick these off beat movies to watch? You know, since I am frequently disappointed in them. Not on your life. Life's too short for Disney Flicks and Iron Man III. I have The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans queued up in Netflix. It has Nicolas Cage, not Harvey Keitel, but Nicolas has a full on crazy side that could be interesting. Plus, for you ladies, Val Kilmer is in it. You know, The Ice Man.

Review from Esquire Magazine:
Cage's performance as the rogue cop hunting a murderer while battling his inner demons is absurd, an endless muscle cramp devoid of depth, nuance, or credibility. And Herzog, who has made a handful of truly brilliant films — check out Aguirre, the Wrath of God, an ice ax par excellence — is content in his dotage to toss poo against the wall and film whatever sticks. In BL: POCNO, this boils down to random footage of gators and iguanas and a break-dancing corpse.

Hey, say what you will about the not so glowing review of the flick, who among us is not willing to see it just for the break dancing corpse? Yeah, I know.

Well, I have lingered more than is normally comfortable, so I say goodbye.

Like its politicians and its wars, society has the teenagers it deserves, out
Ramblin' Ed

Beg Peace

2010-11-20T09:00:00.009-05:00

Beg Peace 20 Nov 2010

When I called you
I had fallen in a bad place
Reaching for a memory
that the haze of time had shaded
Shadows lay a softness
and had worn away the edges
Never mind they're lying
They were all the lies I needed

When you picked up
I could hear that you were smiling
More than I remember
Or that you believed you'd ever
In time our crooked questions
Brought us all these twisted answers
It seems you've found your sunshine
Without knowing where you're headed

So I'll move on
Always been that kind of restless
I find my peace
without seeking understanding
It's too late
for me to die too young
We fade slow
While believing we're still giving

Ed

A ship in port is safe, but that's not what ships are built for

2010-11-12T07:45:00.011-05:00

I can make things better than they are. It's a mostly true statement. I definately believe it. I am kinda like a bona fide, living and breathing spell check. A lubricant for getting things done. I am an idea guy. Or, as I like to put it, a de-gooberizer. So where am I going with this? Besides a healthy pat of my own back. I am going to China. Or rather, I am NOT going to China and should be.

We have customers who want and/or need our services. By having the poor foresight of being born in one of the countries on the ever expanding list of them that we figure are all trying to kill, maim, or at the very minimum, highly inconvienence all us patriotic Americans who just want to sit peacefully in front of the TV, munching our tater chips, these folks have all manner of difficulty getting a visa. Nearly as much trouble as I had finding an ending to that last sentence. So we schedule, cancel, repeat. It's not their fault. It's just the way it is. And it's been like that for a long time now.

So I said, "Then why don't we just go there?" And I sat down and looked at what we do. Then I figured out what could be exported. Then I looked at what they would not need, as it is a domestic requirement, and swapped those things for information they would need that we get locally but they probably don't. (Sorry to be vague, but I don't like to do details when it comes to my work.) I thought about how to get the materials there and how long to clear customs in the various parts of the world. Then I wrote a syllabus, lassoed all the lessons into one place and sent the email to my boss that we had a new product to offer, there was a real need for it, and go out and make some money with it. To which he replied, "Nobody will want that. Too expensive." Not exactly, the thanks I had wanted, but more or less the thanks I have come to expect.

One week later, he calls me up and says that China wants that new training. And a little something else, too. So it's a good thing that "we" have developed that training and for me to give it to this other guy so that he can go there and deliver it.

Exactly like when I saw a need for on-site refresher training for our field techs. Despite the loud protestations of my former manager that he would never allow training to take place anywhere but the factory, I developed the course anyway and just sat on it. A year later, things change, TSA writes us a new contract that includes....wait for it.... a provision to allow on-site refresher training for our field techs. It is quickly pointed out that luckily "we" have developed just such a course, but TSA will have to pay for us to hire another trainer. TSA agrees, we interview for the position, hire a new trainer and then give him my course to run.

I can no more resist tinkering with the way we do things than porcelin can resist...um, ....doing things ...... that are glass-like. Anyway, I see ideas like the spooky kid sees dead people. I've got crazy mad energy in the mornings, so I pound these things out. And I'm already working on my next idea. Because we'll eventually hire someone else.

So, kinda a segueue from there to here, though more humorous and less bitchy. And just as true. It concerns my ship, the USS Antietam, her Commanding Officer, and the 1MC. The 1MC provided helpful reminders throughout the day to help us sailors, as I used to point out, do more before 8 AM than we had wanted to do all day. Here's an example: "Sweepers, Sweepers, man your brooms. Give the ship a clean sweep down both fore and aft! Sweep down all lower decks, ladder wells and passageways! Dump all garbage clear of the fantail! Sweepers." Ah yes...the glitz and glamor of the seagoing life. So, the story begins....

We were the pre-commissioning crew for Antietam, which means we moved onto the ship when it still belonged to (what was then) Ingalls Shipbuilding in Pascagoula, Mississippi . Later we sailed her to Baltimore (Antietam Battleground is landlocked, most land battles tend to be fought on land as it turns out, but Baltimore is not) for the commissioning ceremony and to bring the ship to life. So yes, I am a plank owner.

Because we were a new ship, in a new class of ships, almost everything we did, we were doing for the first time. That's why the CO and XO would have to spend a lot of time on the 1MC. To tell us what was going on, what we were expecting to do, how we expected to do it, etc. However, and this is a big however, they were both prone to long pauses when they talked.

Now, if you have ever been on a ship at sea, you know that when the CO takes the mic and starts talking, everyone stops and listens. Because he has news. Be it a port added, a port taken away, news of a new inspection, news from home, or announcing that have been tasked with escorting US flagged Kuwaiti tankers therough the Straits of Hormuz (true), if he's talking, it is something worth listening to. So we stop and listen, which also entails, for some strange reason, staring up at the 1MC speaker as he talks.

The CO would announce something, we'd listen, he' d stop talking and we'd go back to work. But with this guy, as we'd all start moving along, he'd pick the announcement back up and we'd all kinda lurch back to a stop and assume the position staring up at another 1MC speaker. Then he'd stop, we'd all start moving along, he'd pick the announcement up yet again, we'd all lurch back to another stop and assume the position staring up at yet another 1MC speaker. And this would happen numerous times. Until, at some point after we had all been staring up at a silent 1MC speaker for a couple of minutes, looking for all the world like curious, stoned lemmings (dungaree clad lemmings at that), we would realize that he was actually finished now and we could carry on.

The CO has a suggestion box.

I am full of suggestions.

So guess what.

I suggested to the CO that, and this is really what I wrote as we were a close knit crew, "when you are making 1MC announcements you should say thank you, or 'out', or something so that we the crew would know the announcement was over and could stop staring up at the 1MC speaker and go back to work". And that was that.

A few days later the CO again came on the 1MC to announce something. We all stopped and listened. And, after a few minutes he unexpectedly spake these words: "Abernathy, that is all."

I broke into a huge smile. Everybody just looked at me and you could see the little cartoon thought bubbles that said What the HECK?? I thought it was a one time payback deal for pointing out the pauses, but for the next couple of months after that, whenever the CO, XO, or Command Master Chief made a 1MC announcement, all across the Long Beach, CA waterfront you could hear it end with, "Abernathy, that is all."

(Go here - see page 3)

USS Bunker Hill used bugles. Tell you about that sometime.

If God wanted us to fly, He would have given us tickets, out
Ramblin' Ed

Letting people do what people do

2010-10-29T07:09:00.019-05:00

Living life, waiting for fall, planning the holiday gift purchases. Don't give many Christmas gifts these days. Nobody has buckets of money any more and not so many kids to do for. Never been a giant fan of buying things "just because" anyway, although that comes off as pretty bah-humbug if you say it out loud. A better idea would be a beer and a barbeque, followed by dragging the big screen outside so we can both a) sit around the fire pit digesting burgers and hot links, and b) watch the football game. (Note to self: If this were a real plan of action I should better also drag out couches and easy chairs.) But that's just me. Oh, and just so we're clear, there would be a fire in the fire pit I mentioned earlier. I figured that was understood.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, although I'm more a wordsmith than photographer. Still, my pictures are worth a good 650 - 750 words each. If I augment them with captions, I figure we break somewhere near the standard 1k threshold. There are pictures both this post and last post. Some are not so good, but others are simply Mahvelous!, in the alternate reality, best case mediocre way in which I use the word.

I think I have not posted a picture of self since I lost me some weight. Will rectify that here (Rectum? Dang near killed 'im! Hahahaha). Had a big mirror and a digital camera. Was sitting there wondering, "what to do....what to do...", when it hit me. Heck, why didn't I think of it before? I can take a walk down to Crystal City. But first, let me take a mirror shot or two. And yes, the hair was my idea. I had me some mousse, I had me a black stripey shirt, and I had me some gold chains and such. Haven't done my Jesrey Shore look in, well, ever. Yep that's me. Since "The Situation" was already taken as an awesomely cool, Guido-fabulous if you will, self-imposed nickname, I will call myself "Compromising Position". Almost as catchy, slightly less chick magnet. But it goes nicely with my pony keg abs.

I would love to comiserate with some of you about the local races here and our bizarre political culture. But unless you live with the obvious lying, blatant stealing, and the tortured logic eminating from everybody in Talahassee, from the interns to the Court of Appeals (yes, even our judiciary is proudly on the take) that is presented, all straight faced and serious, to justify abberant behavior, you would never believe the stories. Here in the Sunshine State it's true, you can't make this stuff up! We are mostly mad as hell and not going to take it anymore. We want change and want it now, so we are going to throw the bums out and replace them with people who are exactly the same. That'll show us, er....them.

But I digress. I devolve. I may even .... Where was I?

See the pictures below. Buy a Todd Snider CD. Pictures below. Videos first. Ciao.

We learn from history that we learn nothing from history, out
Ramblin' Ed

Note the genuine smile. I believe in everyone.

I could not catch a picture that showed the beauty and quiet of this place, although I came close to showing the quiet. This is SW Washington State, 25 miles north of Portland up the I-5. Obviously, I had left the Interstate. Fun fact: I-5 from San Francisco and north, does not have very many gas stations. It's like they built a highway but forgot the gas.

I liked this bridge. It made me think of like if I was on one side of the river but needed to get to the other side. And I couldn't fly. Because I was a train. Fun fact: Despite the moniker, "Bullet Trains" cannot fly.

Pumpkin patch in WA. Fun fact: Barb wire does little to impede vegetation creep.

I wanted a picture of this awesome set of bridges back into Oregon. But the traffic was heavy and for over a mile there was no place I could pull over that also had a view of them. So, this is what they looked like from behind the wheel. Fun fact: This is kinda like dash cam, without the criminals and heavy Tru TV (Not reality. Actuality.) vibe.

At 60 mph, I soon found meself upon the bridge. Fun fact: I said "meself" instead of the more contemporary"myself".

Near Pioneer Square in Portland. Fun fact that actually is a fact: We saw these in an Armed Forces TV ad (we didn't get commercials, we got history lessons). A rich busisness man donated these to the city and they are all around downtown. His name was Benson and these are known as Benson Bubblers.

One man Blue Man Group. Fun Fact: He's not blue. It is, however, possible he has the blues. So I rate this claim as half-true. Possibly.

Dude.

For such a mellow place, there's a whole bunch of rules. Bummer. Fun fact: Judging from this list, it appears that it surprisingly easy to get into a brawl around here. Hey!.... is that a Saints cap, buddy?

This self professed Billionaire slash Musician slash street philosopher is the one who wanted me to quit my job and be the face of his company for $250,000. You know the one who was also bumming smokes off of everybody. He thinks I was taking his picture. Fun fact: I wasn't. And I can give you 3 good reasons.

So, I get use a tanning bed and do my laundry at the same time? Well, it's about time. (Sign in lower right ) Fun fact: Discount Tobacco is sponsoring a wine tasting.

Would your city allow this establishment? Fun fact: Heh heh heh... Hung Farlow.
The following Monday I was far from the Pacific Northwest in Washington, DC. This was my view from the hotel. The Pentagon. Let's just say that the mood was far less mellow here. Fun fact: Local law apparently requires high and tight haircuts and prohibits public displays of smiling.

Fun fact: I am out of captions. But you should biggerize this. It's a good shot of the city and the morning traffic crawl.

Will Schuster is trying to make the world a better place

2010-10-04T11:57:00.018-05:00

OK, sorry kiddies. I finally sat down to the keyboard and I ain't stopping for anything, otherwise another 2 months may pass between posts. The following photos are all from my BlackBerry, which for some reason has no flash like my last one. I have some pics from a real camera, but the data card is in my computer at work, so I'll have to post those pics later. They are mostly Portland and Washington State anyway.
Waiting for Hank III in St. Pete. Look who else was coming. My heros, all. Well, maybe not Assjack.
San Antonio's River Walk. Beautiful, in an old people's sort of way.

The band at Tootsie's. She sang to me. I tipped her. It was all a blur.....

I had heard of reinstatehank.com. Hank III had also mentioned it. This was outside one of the Broadway dives.

Nashville, TN. Home of endless Johnny Cash and Jack Daniels kitsch, by the way.

Ooooh... a hat band!

I was impressed with the combination spare tire/subwoofer. That's ingenious.

My Nashville rental. The one with the spare tire and subwoofer.

Enough said.

Yeah, kinda gleeky. Sue me.

My how time flies. Been a while since I posted and I feel a little bad about that. But I have been on the road nonstop. I made it to my fishing trip in So. Fla, but then TSA changed all of their schedules that I had negotiated and I missed my ship's reunion in Jacksonville (and I had been one of the requestors of an east coast reunion). When I was home for one week, my wife was in the hospital for the duration. Not so much a major problem as a drawn out one.

So, as a child of North Carolina in the 60's & 70's, I found this to be interesting. If you look at the comments in my last post, you will find comments posted there from none other than The Nature Boy, Ric Flair. Who, you ask? He was a wrestler (or, in SE N.C., a wrassler) back in the day. Had not thought about him in years, and I am not sure how he wound up visiting my blog, but this isn't the kind of thing that you can make up.

In the last 5 weeks I have been in San Antonio, which was cool enough but not as cool as I had envisioned it. I thought the river walk would be better than it was. It was beautiful, but kind of boring actually. I thought about a quick side trip up to Austin, then I thought about it a couple of more times. But the work schedule made me wary of getting too far down the dusty trail lest somthing happen. And I really, really, really want to go to Austin. It will be my pilgrimage. Would love to be there for SXSW, but....

Then I was home a week, followed by a trip to Nashville. I had a ball in Nashville. Visited a record store that was run by a fella who played in Bobby Bare, Jr's band, Bare, Jr. Yeah, I actually have the Boo-Tay! CD. So I went ahead and picked up his latest, A STORM – A TREE – MY MOTHER’S HEAD, some DBT outtakes, Todd Snider, and Justin Townes Earle. Then I hit Tootsies and all the dives on Broadway...repeatedly. My hotel was, once I figured out the back way downtown, very convienient to doing some honky tonkin'.

As an aside, Justin Townes Earle continues my infatuation with the offspring of my teen year heros. Shooter Jennings, Hank III, Bobby Bare, Jr. etc. But Earle has more points on the compass, if you will. I absolutely idolize his father Steve Earle, whos song Guitar Town was my theme song forever. I just found out this morning that his mama was Allison Moorer whos Alabama Song CD is a hauntingly beautiful favorite of mine. (And she's a red head!!). Also...yes, there's more, Jason Isbell (previously of DBT) plays on his latest. Yeah, I know.

I left Nashville for Portland, OR (go back and hit the link. It's not there for my health) which has been my favorite trip in quite some time. It's no New Orleans, but I think it could easily be my second favorite U.S. city. I could get around by rail. The city is very alternative friendly. I met a number of bona fide characters who made me smile as we talked/babbled/veered far off the conversational course. "(sob sob) Then why do I feel so much pain!?"* and "I like you and I want to hire you for $250,000 a year"** are actual peices of conversations I had. It was, to borrow a favorite Appalachianist's descriptor, quite the bohemian burg. Loved It. Or, like they say up there, Keep Portland Weird.

* From the guy who was the most interesting and enigmatic guy he knew. A real self proclaimed messiah type.

** I would get the job after he returned from his world tour (with Mick Jagger opening for him). I would be the face of his billion dollar enterprise making sheds for Lowe's. The whole time, by the way, he was bumming cigarettes from passersby. I thanked him, but allowed that I was pretty happy where I was and, as I was sure a highly enlightened rogue like himelf would understand, it isn't always about the money.

After Portland was D.C., or to be excact, the Crystal City area of Arlington, VA.My room overlooked the Pentagon. Needless to say, a very different vibe from Oregon the previous week. But I survived and they finally let me come home again.

Been bothered by a trend I have seen a lot of lately. It's a flying thing, so many of you may not appreciate why it pisses me off. Has only happened to me once, and I cut her off with a very quick "not interested", but I see it about every other flight. You get to your assigned seat and someone is already sitting there and they tell you that they want to sit in your seat and why don't you just take the one that they were assigned. I play by the rules, logging a lot of butt miles in small airplane seats, I check my seat location on the website where possible and if not, I check in two hours prior to my flight to pick my seats at the kiosk. I work my way closest to the front and into a window seat. (I used to go aisle seat for better egress, but once the bag fees started, I was getting hit in the head with far too many carry on steamer trunks to continue that). And while I am really proud that you managed to procreate just the cutest child ever, or that you married an Army man, or I sympathyze that you can't spend 2 1/2 hours separated by 3 rows from your beloved husband/boyfriend/sugardaddy, it isn't enough to give you my seat. In my case, the young mother wanted to rock her infant beside the window and wanted to trade me for her middle seat. She thought it quite rude of me that I wouldn't even consider it, and I thought it presumptuous of her to assume I would give her my seat, but thoughtful of her to pre-warm it for me.

Bonus Link: I call it Johnny Pop, but it's really God's Gonna Cut You Down.

This video has more big names than a sri-lanken phone directory, out
Ramblin' Ed

The South Florida Catching Trip

2010-08-22T07:13:00.012-05:00

And....we're off.

Hello. Welcome to my home, meat.

The gator above was about 20 yards away across this water hole. I never let him out of my sight. I could hear them in the water behind me, too, but DRE was facing that direction.

The air plants on the trees were just breath takingly beautiful. They lent a whole surrealism to the scene.

Fish not so impressive and was released. But looka at how much I was sweating. Pants and shirt soaked, sweat dripping into my eyes. And, just to make this the perfect example of some of the things you will read below, a biting fly (aka: mean little bastards) on my elbow.

As you can see, the canal is straight and narrow. As soon as you see it, you know there will be no hiding from the sun. One of the peacock bass what got iced and then eaten.

C'mere, my pretty!

Must...vainly...attempt...escape!!

DRE with an eating fish.

Me with an eating fish.

The narrative part:

Usually we go fishing. A lot of the time for me, its a sitting and tanning trip. A bait throwing trip. A "When you get the chance we need to go over and get my crank bait out of the tree" trip. Sometimes, suffering heat induced hallucinations, its a trip trip. But last weekend, sitting in what was basically a big ditch running between ocean and swamp, we were on a catching trip.

Me and DRE have always talked about a trip to Venezuela. We wanted to go fishing for peacock bass. Although its basic shape very closely resembles that of the largemouth, it is not actually a member of the largemouth family. Peacock Bass belong to a family of fish known as "cichlids", a group that boasts more than 1,000 species worldwide and is well known to tropical fish enthusiasts. Like the largemouth, the cichlid prefer to ambush unsuspecting prey from a stealthy vantage point and demonstrate a gluttonous appetite. The similarity ends there. However, the Florida Peacock bass, colorfully adorned in varying shades of green, blue, orange and gold, is much more eye appealing than the largemouth bass. Don't let this appearance fool you though. It's one of the toughest freshwater species in the world, with bone-jarring strikes, aerial acrobatics and line-stripping runs that make it the ultimate quarry for both the fly and plug angler. It routinely breaks line and destroys tackle.

We left Friday morning, but never made it into the canal. Canal C-111, for those of you keeping score. "Eleven", as the locals in the bait shop called it, is in Dade County, just a hair north of the Monroe County line. We found the canal, about 9:30 PM or so, but did not put in. We had planned to, but we found ourselves, flush with adventurous spirits, time to kill, and without the wifely encumberances, wandering about in the Big Cypress following every dirt trail we encountered. While we didn't get to the canal 2-ish as planned, we didn't really care. We had a grand adventure full of airplants, insects, alligators, heat, fishing, more insects, more alligators, debilitating heat, and bugs. Friends, you haven't lived until you've been 2 miles down a dirt trail into the swamp, getting out to "stick check" the depth and mud content of the big puddles BEFORE you drive through them (a lesson it took me well into my thirties to learn) and decide that it is, shall we say, imprudent to continue. Turning the pickup truck, with boat in tow, around in such tight quarters is.... well, it's another story to tell entirely.

First thing Saturday morning we slipped past the ROAD CLOSED signs at the exit off of US 1 and drove far enough along the canal access road that we figured we would either not be seen, or at the very least, might have some degree of plausible deniability concerning ROAD CLOSED signs and us being in there. Hey--- we drove a pretty long way to get here.

We got out of the truck and were absolutely swarmed by the biting flies. We almost did not get the boat in the water, we were so busy swatting at the buzzing little teeth with wings. I realized that if anything would bring this trip to a quick end, it was these flies. But God wanted us to fish. So turned us on to a couple of things. When on land, we were a biting fly buffet, and they were HONGRY! God's critters gotta eat, even the annoying ones. And when we were on the water motoring somewhere, we also got swarmed. But for some reason, when you were on the water and just doing drifting (fishing) speed, they went away. They were attracted to movement on the water. Good to know.

As you saw in the pictures, we were in a canal maybe 30 yards wide. We fished it 7 miles out* to a lock and dam. There was more canal, but we could not boat past the dam, so we turned around and fished back. 14 miles of ditch fishing. So there was no place to hide from the sun. We had a gallon of water on ice, but as the cooler started filling with fish, we started removing the water bottles. It was so hot out that even warm water was welcomed. But God, sensing that we were deep down some good boys who had waited a long time for this trip, threw up clouds between us and the sun. And ordered up a slight breeze. Were we sweating like whores in church? You betcha. But we were not being baked by the sun. Therefore, we kept fishing. for 7 or 8 hours.

* While we didn't think to snap a picture of it for proof, there were actually mile markers posted along the access road that we could see from the boat.

We caught a lot of fish, but released most of them. We brought home a few each for eating, and kept them on ice from the time they were caught until the time they were cooked. We were disappointed that we had not caught any peacock bass, although we had been catching the heck out of this aquarium fish looking thing, we thought was maybe an Oscar, that fought 3 times as big as it was. It was fun to catch and we kept a couple to eat. When we got up along the dam, we ran across a shore fisherman who was pulling in big ol' largemouth bass as fast as he pleased. Aske us if we'd had any luck and we said, "5 or 6 bass. And a lot of these things. Know what they are?" "Awww... you got you some of them damn peacock bass there." We were like, cool... explains the fighting. It did get us to thinking about how, if one a little larger than your hand could pull the boat towards shore, then if we actually hooked a large one, well... there was the possibility it would go all Moby Dick on us and flip the boat. Which would have given me a heart attack before I ever got wet because of all the not shy at all gators hanging out all around us.

Spent Saturday night in Pompano Beach with an old friend of mine from the Pittsburgh area. Carnegie, for those of you who know the area. Headed home about 8 AM, on a northwesterly course strainght up US 27. Stopped for a short time to wet a line in Lake Ocochobee, but mostly just motored straight home. The heat and the bugs and the rapid fire fish catching on Saturday had taken its toll. We were ready to be home.

The trouble with real life is that there is no danger music, out
Ramblin' Ed

The more things change, the more they remain insane

2010-07-31T07:38:00.006-05:00

Enjoying a little bit of Red Hot Chili Peppers and planning out my weekend. Two weekends in a row I was going to post and, as far as I know, didn't. My goodness, what a slacker I have become. But life is short, and doing things against your will only shorten it. Doing things against your better judgement, however, quickens the pulse. Which may lead to a shorter life, incrementally speaking, but really, who the heck cares? So just remember, against your will = bad. Against your better judgement = whatever.

If I died and came back as John Prine, it would not be so bad. I would have Smells Like Teen Spirit as my life's background music. (So why not just come back as Kurt Cobain? 2 Words...Courtney Love.) And I'd be quick to strike a pose. ....With the Lights out it's less dangerous. Here we are now entertain us. I feel stupid and contagious. Here we are now entertain us. A mullato. An albino. A mosquito. My libido. Yay.....

I saved some military themed stories on my other computer and intend to add them somewhere on this post. Probably at the bottom. Yep, since if I add them to the top, by this point you've already read them and this explaination would be made somewhat ridiculous. And before the thought gets away from me again, I just want to say that the coolest thing about living in the Tampa Bay region is how often you can be watching COPS and recognize the area they're pulled over in.

Switched to a mostly fruit and veggie diet. No, I'm not a vegan, I'm not cool enough for that or owning a Mac. I put meat in my crockpot with the beans and corn, and all. And when we take the class out to lunch on Friday's I have a big, ol juicy burger. I just decided that I had to cut back on how much I was eating because I was getting fat, fatter, fattest. The biggest I had ever been. So I dropped my intake down to about 600 calories a day for a while, shed a hair over 50 lbs, and have had success maintaining that by keeping my calories to around 1200 a day. However, my body did react for a while with displeasure at the loss of it's customary pepperoni based diet. Peaches that went in all sweet and tasty, exited all spiteful and angry. But now, all is peace and harmony in Temple Ed.

RWH Rhyme #1

Didn't know that I hadn't been watching
til I didn't know where I'd been
Can't really say if it's a mess or problem
this here fix I'm in

I never was one for better judgement
it was seldom against my will
what don't kill you gonna make you stronger
if you're still standing, friend

What I've got left
Is what I hold here
Knock back the rust
on what I hold dear

So hard to figure what I've been saying
But I'm talking all the time
Save me the whip smart, pop tart theory
one mouth, I know...two eyes

Might tote every loving thing I would give you
in a kitchen bag wrapped and tied
hot like my feelings...black my intentions...
and plastic as I feel sometimes

All I've got left
Is what I hold here
Knock back the rust
on what I hold dear

Now I carry those scars most everywhere
everytime I've touched someone else
So hard to keep foolin' all them people
so easy as you fool yourself

But I've never been one for better judgement
Ain't nothing against my will
what don't kill you gonna make you stronger
if you're still standing, friend

RWH Partial Rhyme #2

Had me a girl and her hair was red
She never was nothing like what I said
Called her my lover. Called her my friend
I got up one day and never called again

Sometimes we're funny. Sometimes we ain't
Sometimes we ain't even walking straight
Sometimes we rhyme and sometimes we're pissed
Sometimes it comes to this

Navy Stuff:

New Navy Missile Could Hit Global Targets
July 08, 2010
Military.comby Craig Hooper

As the venerable Tomahawk missile loses the battle against modernized air defenses, observers have long wondered why the Navy isn't racing to fill the U.S. surface fleet's nearly 8,000 Vertical Launch System cells with a new generation of anti-ship or land-attack munitions.

Now, the Pentagon's top researchers at the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency are aiming to outfit ships like Aegis cruisers with weapons that can hit nearly anywhere on the globe – increasing the power of surface ships to that of ballistic missile-equipped submarines.

The so-called "ArcLight" program has the potential to change the way the world thinks about U.S. surface combatants, experts say.

"The ArcLight program will design, build, and flight test a long range vehicle that carries a 100-200 lb payload," DARPA says.

According to DARPA, the ArcLight program will use a high-tech missile based on the current Standard Missile 3 booster with a hypersonic glider that can reach more than 2,300 miles to its target. The missile could be fired out of a standard vertical launcher on many surface ships.

Outfitting Navy ships with ArcLight missiles will do far more than just "add capability," analysts say. It is a potential game-changer because the missiles would transform the largely defensive nature of the U.S. surface combatant carrier escorts to offensive strike ships.

That shift from the "Missile Defense" destroyer or "Air Defense" cruiser of old to a "Global Strike Combatant" is likely to pose a real conceptual challenge to any potential adversaries, experts say.

(I love the whole conceptual challenge part. - Ed)

Loading run-of-the-mill surface ships with "strategic" missiles would potentially be a boon to advocates of the so-called "Prompt Global Strike" mission who have faced opposition from lawmakers in Congress over concerns of a new arms race.

The ArcLight program will also likely resonate with Undersecretary of the Navy Robert Work, who has long preached the virtues of America's VLS-equipped surface fleet. Any prospect of leveraging new technologies for the old launch system will likely spark the Undersecretary's interest, analysts say.

© Copyright 2010 Military.com. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed. Well, maybe on the occasional really lame blog.

(This next story reminds me of sneaking up to the Northern Pacific, us, a nuke cruiser, and a nuke carrier... racing for Vladivistok, Russia in total EMCON, waiting past the horizon overnight and stealing up to the coast under cover of fog. When the fog lifted there we were, 2 miles or so off Russia's coast, 2 cruisers and a carrier. When they scrambled the Bears and fighters to run us off, we held a cookout in shorts and tank tops on the fan tail. What was our message to the Russians? "Because we can." Good times. This next story is the same. - Ed)

U.S. Sends Tomahawk Missile Filled Subs to Western Pacific

Read more: http://defensetech.org/2010/07/09/u-s-sends-tomahawk-missile-filled-subs-to-western-pacific/#ixzz0tvVxAtfB
Defense.org

A lot of messaging going on in the Western Pacific, by both sides. We’ve pointed to the recent China’s PLA Navy live fire exercises in the East China Sea.

Now, we learn from Time’s Mark Thompson that three former strategic missile submarines converted to carry Tomahawk cruise missiles (SSGNs) surfaced on the same day, June 28, in the Philippine’s Subic Bay, in Pusan, South Korea and at the naval base on Diego Garcia in the Indian Ocean. Each converted boomer holds up to 154 Tomahawk cruise missiles.

As Thompson writes, the alarm bells must have sounded that day in Beijing:

“In all, the Chinese military awoke to find as many as 462 new Tomahawks deployed by the U.S. in its neighborhood. “There’s been a decision to bolster our forces in the Pacific,” says Bonnie Glaser, a China expert at the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington. “There is no doubt that China will stand up and take notice.”

Of course U.S. officials denied that any messaging was intended, but they did make sure news of the SSGN deployments showed up in the Hong Kong based South China Morning Post, on July 4; the same day some analysts expected China to test its DF-21D anti-ship ballistic missile.

RIMPAC, the “Rim of the Pacific” war games also began on Wednesday off Hawaii. For all the attention focused on the Levant and the Gulf, its good to see these encouraging signs that at least some in the military understand that the real strategic competition of this century will play out in the Western Pacific.

Don’t miss Craig Hooper’s excellent post on how to turn the Navy’s surface ships into conventional missile carrying strike ships equivalent to the SSGNs.

– Greg Grant

Read more: http://defensetech.org/2010/07/09/u-s-sends-tomahawk-missile-filled-subs-to-western-pacific/#ixzz0tvW5CA2k
Defense.org

The third hand - on a watch. What is it called?, out
Ramblin' Ed

The problem with people who have no vices is that generally you can be pretty sure they're going to have some pretty annoying virtues

2010-07-14T08:30:00.003-05:00

So I liked the new Hank III so much I went out here, in the vast metropolis of West Des Moines, and bought two more recent albums. Plus music from True Blood becasue I saw CC Adcock and Allan Toussiant were on it. Plus I ordered the new Ray Wylie Hubbard CD, since I have looked for it in 3 states now and cannot find it in stock. And Borders needs to buy better inventory software.

I asked the nice plump lady, who insisted on helping me although I am perfectly capable of typing in a search term on my own, to see if they had the new R.W. Hubbard CD. She did the search and told me that the computer says they might have it. The computer says you might have it? I knew walking in the door that you might have it. Just like I knew you might not. The purpose of inventory tracking software is to.....oh, never mind. Customer service in the US is not dead. But it is brain-dead.

Anyway, might not have it was the order of the day, so I made the order of Wednesday to have it brought to the store via, I suppose, a truck. Yay giant carbon footprint for an eclectic artist's 12 new songs. (10 he wrote, 2 he co-wrote though. That should stand for something.)

Looks out the window that we're fixing to blow up a storm here on the plains. I think Iowa is the plains, right? I mean, I know it is the midwest, but that just says where in the country we are. It hardly describes the features, or lack of features, of the ground. Or, if you will, the topography. Anyway, I am interested in what's going to blow in and what it will drop.

I rode out a couple of storms in Denver and was very surprised by their intensity. I think I have heard that plains states storms can get pretty furyful...furyistic...ah, furious. I guess I'll see. But I think the plains states also attract tornados. I am only truly afraid of 4 things, because all are painful and sneak up on you unexpectedly. Plus you can neither predict them (I guess that's what unexpected means, huh?) nor control them. And those things are 1. Sharks (not a huge concern here unless there is such a thing as corn sharks) 2. Submerged water moccasins (I was told when I was a kid that they can't bite underwater, but if that was true, why would they hang out there?) 3. Hard work (Mine, really more than yours) and 4. Tornados. I am really afraid of tornados because they are hurricane strong without the courteous 2 week notice you get from a hurricane. You've got time to name hurricanes. All tornados are named "It was really big and it sounded just like a train a'coming".

Update: No tornado. Heavy rain and thunderstorms? Well, not them either. Just a muggy night with a heat index of 102 (when I went to bed). But the crawler had dire storm warnings all night. That was exciting.

I grew up in a region (the South East) that didn't really value education. Still doesn't really. Not to the extent that a lot of other places do. And, of course, I am a product of my enviornment. I dropped out of high school, although I did return and graduate so I could enlist, and that all turned out OK in the end. Being a HS graduate didn't really make my resume a "must read" as I eventually figured out, but I was never without food and a roof.

I don't know why, really. That my beloved south has such an anti-intellectual bent. Other than my region was agricultural and in many cases brawn was more in demand than brains. You could reason with the "help" or you could whip 'em into line. And if you owned a big old spread with a lot of crops to tend, you didn't really want your sons figuring out that they could make a decent living elsewhere pushing numbers around with a pencil without all the sweating through their hand me down overalls you had in mind for them. You get the picture.

North Carolina has a lot of big name colleges, 3 of them up near Raleigh are literally within spitting distance of each other (Carolina, State, & Wake Forest). But after pondering on it mightily (hey if you're going to ponder, just as well to go all out) I concluded that it probably had something to do with better basketball tournaments. Well, when you think of Michael Jordan do you immediately think of a) basketball superstar, b) wait'll we get our Hanes on you, or c) thoughtful college graduate? So there you go.

Everything is in a state of flux, including the status quo, out
Ramblin' Ed
----- rhymes, videos, extraneous crap -------------

Fanaticism consists in redoubling your effort when you have forgotten your aim.

Think You Might 25 JULY 98

I was born here, I've been all over the place.
Like a permanent smile on a temporary face.
The night I was born my mama hung up the phone
said "my work here is done, so I guess I should go"

I was only nineteen when I turned thirty-five
I was barely awake, I was really alive.
I was on my way to see you when my brain kicked in
Saying "why you wanna go through all that mess again?"

If you take your time it all kind of seems so clear.
And I think you might...
I think you maybe ought to come to your senses.

Like a friend of a friend of someone you used to know.
Getting kind of tight here at the end of the rope.
I've been known to let you know when all else fails.
That's about the way it goes when you're riding the rails.

I was only in town for the rest of my life.
I was just passing through and handing out lies.
I was wonderin' if I'm thinking you're the girl for me.
It's as plain as my nose, it's as hard to see.

And if you take your time it all kind of falls into place.
And I think you might...
I think you maybe ought to come to your senses.

I was calling to say I won't be calling no more.
I was dropping some names, yours kinda fell on the floor.
Well it wasn't on purpose and it wasn't for spite.
It was precisely like the way you went and blew through my life.

If you take your time it all becomes so easy to see.
And I think you might...
I think you maybe ought to come to your senses.

Girl I think you might...
I think you maybe ought to come to your senses.

Ed
Yokosuka, Japan

Driftin' 'round 'bout half past four
With the blues on my back
And a bottle on the floor
Drinkin' until I think I'm gonna fall down
'Cause my sweet little baby had to kick me lowdown

Do not remove a fly from your friend's forehead with a hatchet

2010-06-27T13:16:00.005-05:00

I opened the newspaper today, the same as I do almost every non-work day (except in late Jan and Feb), which is to say sitting in the sun that dapples down through the branches of the orange tree, shirtless and shoeless and with the dogs napping nearby. There I found a nice spread about my office in St Petersburg and the $31 million contract we have just begun to execute for TSA. Nice way to start the morning, I thought.

If it wasn't for the steadily increasing thunder and the rain about to blow in on the rapidly cooling breeze I would probably still be out there. Albeit, by now I would be napping since the paper is done and I have finally finished off the backlog of Time magazines (some dating all the way back to the end of March) that had been sitting around. Yep. I have been sitting outside a lot. Jelling. or, perhaps that should be chilling. Either way, aggressively loafing outside has been the norm and blogging has lately been relegated to the most convienent time I could think of....tomorrow. Today the rain that makes the flowers grow will also let the blog be, um, blogged.

The wife will be home next week. Been overseas for 2 months and I think she is ready. But when she was here on a green card she had to watch how long she stayed out of the country or how many times she left or it would lead to closer scrutiny when she applied for citizenship. This was her first chance to just go and hang out. Glad she got it.

I moved to Tampa when the Tampa Bay Rowdies soccer team was the only pro sports team here. Of course, the town was a fraction of the size it is now, too. We went to a couple of games including when the NY Cosmos (?) came to town. The Cosmos had Pele, who was a big deal. We also went to see them play the Chinese National team, but that was before China, you know, owned us.

I remember trying to watch the Rowdies games on TV. It was kind of tough because the station took commercial breaks even though the game didn't. So after an ad for tires, a quick round of tastes great/less filling, and then one more ad for something or another that was totally manly, we'd return to the game. Sometimes to find that the score had changed.

I am not a huge soccer fan, but the US was in the world cup and expected to do well. I mean, well for America anyway. So I watched the games. I had to miss the Algeria game though. Partly because I was working, but mostly because I got sidetracked and forgot that it was on. It took a while for it to sink in, but then it hit me. ABC was not cutting away from the action for commercials. Good deal. Then Ghana kicked our butts and I'm out of the World Cup now.

When I was growing up near Wilmington, NC the local rock n roll station only broadcast 8 AM to 8 PM daily. On the one hand, there was not a lot of repetition going on, like you get nowadays with a few songs in heavy rotation. But still, the station would go off the air and then I had to change over to the country station. I didn't mind that. I love country music. The twangier the better. Oops... let me side bar real quick before I forget.

Just bought Hank William III - Rebel Within. As you may or may not know, Hank 3 vascillates between hard twang country and hard core punk. The country stuff I like. The punk stuff, well, the lyrics have their merits but the songs are a bit too un-melodious for me. So anyway, the new album is OUTSTANDING. He mashed up the punk and the country right smartly. Most of the songs are about drinking. Except one is about heroin and another is about his mom dying from crack. Yeah, I know, for most of you that probably ain't a real ringing endorsement for buying it. But still, not in spite of but because of the rough edges, I found this to be more "real country" than any of the good ol' boys in their pick em ups and Kenny Chesney's Buffett channeling summer songs could ever hope to muster. Put another way, when you are in the country aisle and the CD you just picked up has the Warning: Explicit Lyrics sticker on it, best thing you can do is just buckle up. Video posted below, live version of Rebel Within. Watching it is optional for most of you. It is required viewing for The Appalachianist though. I know that he likes the hellbilly element same as me.

OK, back to my original point. But sometimes I didn't want to hear country. I wanted to hear rock n roll. In those cases the best compromise available was to turn to the soul station. Back when there really was soul music. Temptations. Isleys. Stevie Wonder. Edwin Starr. Etc. There is a Black Eyed Peas song that I have added to my mp3 player called Where is the Love? I absoloutely love that song. It really has the social consciousness that was found in a lot of those old soul songs. I love the message. I love the chorus. It really takes me back to a swampside papermill town in the 70s.

Egotism is the anesthetic that dulls the pain of stupidity, out
Ramblin' Ed

First the Nice one:

Now the crazed hillbilly:

Life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all.

2010-06-12T07:44:00.003-05:00

Been lazy. Soaking up a few weeks of "me time". Wife is still in Bangkok and it is just me and the ranch animals. They are, on one hand, very needy, but on the other hand, fairly easy to please. Thus an afternoon of us all laying around in the shade, watching the world go by and napping without apology fits the bill for all concerned. Plus we watch a lot of TV.

One lesson I recently learned is that when you take a 3 year old fishing and tell him that he might see aligators, he is only excited for as long as it takes him to really think about it, which is the far, far side of wherever you are. Then he whines more than I thought humanly possible. As an added treat, said whining 3 year old will also deduce that fish and turtles inhabit the pond as well and are assuredly lying in wait to munch upon him. Ratchet up the whimpering. At least I was smart enough not to point out the snake that swum by behind us.

Work is good. Machines are flying out of the factory. New airports are being built. Foreign sales are strong. I lucked into a good gig. Yes, I said lucked into. I mean, I wouldn't have gotten the job if I didn't have skills. And I would not have done well at it if I wasn't good at what I do. But as with many things in my life, the planets aligned just so, I was casting a shadow in an opportune place and space in time, and somebody said, "You ever?"...."Nope, never"...."You wanna?"...."Sure, why not". The things I have most desired in terms of jobs, qualifications, duty stations, or warships, have brought me nothing but annoyance and tribulations. But every time I have just shrugged and said "Why not?" I have begun a new adventure. Go figure.

My brother is now working for the Seminoles out at the Hard Rock Casino in Tampa. Good on him. He went a long time between jobs and now everybody can breathe easier. It's about time for my sister to road trip up here from South Florida, too. Which has not a lot to do with Indian tribes or gambling dens. It just popped into my head, I assume on a sibling thread.

My next exciting adventure is up to....wait for it.....Des Moines. Whoo hoo. White people and corn fields. Cream of wheat. Whatever. I am hearing all kinds of rumors about Egypt and Colombia, and I look forward to that. But I was scheduled for Moscow, Amsterdam, and Erbil, too and I have still never been to Russia, Holland, or Iraq. So I tend to wait til I get on the plane before I get overly excited anymore. What I do know is that Egypt has already contacted us about the training package they want, so it would seem that if anything is a sure bet, that trip is pretty close to it.

Nothing said so far, and nothing more to say.

We who are of mature age seldom suspect how unmercifully and yet with what insight the very young judge us, out
Ramblin' Ed

I wish people who have trouble communicating would just shut up

2010-05-23T13:07:00.018-05:00

Things from previous blogs first. To our left we will find the dash readout that confirms an entry from an earlier post. The tach is reading 1.75. The speedo is reading straight up and down 60 mph. And the trip calculator is showing 33.o mpg for the trip. While I am many things, an embellisher of my gas economy is not one of them.

I am not exactly some kind of save the planet fanatic. But I try not to be head in the sand about things either. I do not have, but would consider an electric car and home solar panels. As long as things perform similiar to what I have now, I am willing to go green. I think about water consumption and try not to be wasteful. I bring my newspapers and drink bottles home from work and toss them in the recycle bin. I don't drive fast or make unnecessary trips to save gas. That, however, is based on a principle of money green as opposed to enviornment green. I do not believe I was put on God's green earth to see how many gallons of gas I could buy. I hate paying for gas, so I use as little as possible. Call it a quirk.

I do not have a canvas bag to carry with me to the store. I am not against them, per se, but I prefer plastic bags. I know. About as un-enviornmentally friendly as you can get. And it means I am, indirectly, buying even more petroleum, which I already said was anethma to me.(Probably too late to try and use the enigma defense, right?) But I have two cats, two well fed cats, and a large litter box. You need a large litter box for large poops. So I find that having plenty of plastic bags on hand at all times is a good thing. Heh heh heh.... he said "large poops".

Wife is still in Bangkok. While the news coverage faded as the troops went back to their barracks, the wife says things are harder for them now than when the protesters filled the streets and squared off with the army. The curfew keeps getting extended. Everything closes around 5 PM. She says finding an open bank is hit and miss. The black market can't get money for the underground money exchanges either. The supermarkets are running low on everything. She says that the only good thing is the trouble was inching closer and closer to her family's home in the Din Daeng area of the city. She is happy that she can see what is going on and talk to her family in real time rather than follow the news on the TV and internet and worry if everybody was alright.

The elusive reindog in mellow repose. What a magestic creature. Few are held in captivity.

Out in the country, about an hour fifteen minutes northwest of Bangkok. I always liked these chicken baskets. Seems I would probably like them less were I a chicken.

Jimmy Buffett sang a song that I often thought about as I wandered off the beaten paths in SE Asia. I'd get way off in the provinces, boots and jeans. And I would have Buffett's "Cowboy in the Jungle" playing as the soundtrack in my head. This shot, however, invokes a different track. Makes me hear "Life is Just a Tire Swing". Word.

The path well traveled.

This little dude was my bud. While he doesn't speak a lick of English, nor I of Thai, he laughed at ALL of my jokes. And you know, that's what I really look for in a friend.

This old farmer come walking across a winding path through the rice paddies, nodded and smiled as he passed by me, and moseyed on down the path towards wherever it was that he was going. As if he passed unfamiliar white guys sitting under the tree smoking a cigar all the time. Cool.

Hey guys, thanks for bringing me here.

This is where my flip flops brung me. Massom's sister was afraid that the farm house was too hot for me, which it wasn't, so she brought me here. She carried a cold beer and told me to hang out here where it was cool and relax while they were fixing something to eat. Couldn't find it in me to protest. KnowwhutImeen?

I had plenty of quiet time to just enjoy my surroundings and to really see them. So here you go. Art shot #1.

Chicken shot #2

Art shot #2

Road shot #1. And, by the way. This is the main road in. Man, I love just meandering the planet, smiling at people and finding places with an everyday sort of cool to hang out in. I honestly feel like a citizen of the world. In a wrinkled, unassuming kind of way.

Teach your children how to think, not what to think, out

Ramblin' Ed

(Only one on YouTube. Sorry. But the song is the point anyway.)

But, like most actors in popular commercials, I became addicted to heroin

2010-05-17T02:22:00.008-05:00

I got home on Saturday night and was in bed midnightish. Up on Sunday and out the door for what turned out to be an awesome drive up to Panama City Beach. No traffic. Sunny day. 3 red lights in the whole 350+ miles. And...hold on to your hats...33 mpg in the Lincoln. Whoa baby! I had to snap a pic of the dashboard readout for those of you who would naysay on that. I had the cruise on 60 and the tach sat on 1.75 the whole way.

Along the way I had a few observations.

For some reason, most or all of the good people of Georgia have been in Florida. It was a mystifying thing, but auto tags and "Dawgs" bumper stickers don't lie. I am happy to report, however, that they were all headed home.

I drive through Ocala semi-regularly. At any given time, apparently, most of it is up for sale. 60-400 acres at a time.

While I was in Bangkok, I read a humorous, and suprisingly enough inaccurate, headline in the sports section. It was about the NBA playoffs, or in this case lack of NBA playoffs for the Chicago Bulls. The headline read: BULLS FIRE NEGRO AFTER LOSS. Yep, I found that suprisingly blunt, too. But as I skimmed the story, they were reporting that Vinny Del Negro, the white head coach and former NCSU star, was fired after losing the game and as a reward for a couple of crappy seasons.

CD selection for yesterday's road trip (Like you even care):
Neil Young & Crazy Horse - Weld (Disk 1 with Powderfinger)
Chris Knight - Chris Knight
Drive By Truckers - The Big To Do
Lynyrd Skynyrd - Disk 3 of the box set
Dwight Yoakam - Buenos Noches from a Lonely Room
Rolling Stones - Some Girls

Looks good for my new product line. 5 machines to 3 locations in Colombia. Just sold machines to Egypt and they want factory training both here and on site in Egypt. Yeah! I'm all for that trip. I am about ready for some real globe hopping to commence. I am dang tired of domestic travel and all the crap you put up with from the airlines. Sure, I have been to Canada a few times. But that's only "international" in the technical sense. You know, because they are their own country, eh. But still.... Taiwan was international and while some would find it exciting and exotic, for me, someone who lived so long in Asia, I didn't find it particularly so. I found it boring. So basically, Guatemala was my only trip that took me somewhere I found special.

I have been to Colombia (read my "bio" at the top of this blog) before with the navy. Cartegena, to be exact. But I was with 2nd Fleet or WESTHEMGRU (Western Hemisphere Group) and while it was run OK for a port call, it came with a lot of strings attached. I would love to go stomping through the countryside with a bona fide license to chill.

Left the wife in Bangkok until June 30th, so I got me some quiet time at home. Too bad it's not football or basketball season. I could use a good sports orgy. You know, a big TV, a beer, 9 games in a row. Not a fan of baseball though, so I guess I'll do yardwork and fishing.

Killing for peace is like screwing for chastity, out
Ramblin' Ed

(If You) Hold Me Down Tonight 18 Aug 96

To you I've never been no more than restlessness and lies.
Like lightning bugs in Mason jars, pretty but they can't fly.
Yes, I understand the principle, but baby roll the dice...
Might understand the randomness that simulates my life.
I'll slip into the darkness when that collar gets too tight.
Love, life and lies.

Now beauty, there's no question girl, the world belongs to you.
And a man could go half crazy just to watch the way you move.
How I loved your warmth and tenderness, but could not take the lights
you shined into my eyes to always keep me in your sight.
Yes, I'll slip right through your fingers if you hold me down tonight.
Love, life and lies.

Though we're far removed from strangers, intertwined at morning light.
I can recognize the longing I see hidden in your eyes.
Yes, I understand the principle, but baby I ain't blind...
it's nothing more than randomness that simulates my life.
Now I'm lost between forboding and the fact that I'm on fire.
Love, life and lies.

Yes, I understand the principle, but baby roll the dice...
try and understand the randomness that simulates my life.

Ed
Florida Keys

Would you please put some pants on? I feel weird having to ask you twice.

Immorality: The morality of those who are having a better time (Sin is geographical)

2010-05-13T20:57:00.013-05:00

Some more pictures to add to the ones from yesterday. Tense night last night, but despite what it looks like on TV, the violence here is minimal and confined to a very small area. It's not, at least for now, very dangerous for tourists. Well, as long as you don't want to get up close for a picture.

There's no such thing as bragging. You're either lying or telling the truth, out
Ramblin' Ed

It's hard to be nostalgic when you can't remember anything

2010-05-13T02:29:00.010-05:00

They call it "PMS" because "Mad Cow Disease" was already taken, out
Ranblin' Ed

I don’t have a license to kill. I have a learner’s permit

2010-05-10T00:51:00.006-05:00

Well, we are back from the south. Back to the familiar streets of Bangkok and much more sane prices. It had been a while since I vacationed in one of the resort areas (Pattaya, Phuket, Samui, etc) and I had forgotten how shamelessly they priced things. Seems reasonable enough if you just got off the plane from Frankfort or London, but not if you're driving in from Bangkok. A plate of kapow gai is 35 baht in Bangkok and going for 150 baht in Samui.

We went last night to the final night of the 60th anniversary of the King's coronation. Just us and, according to this morning's Bangkok Post, 20,000 of our friends. It was awesome. A good old fashioned street fair, stretching 10 or more blocks, with food, and music, and geehaws galore for sale. The evening ended with a massive fireworks display. We went to 3 different temples to take care of 3 different things that need to be done each year. Not sure exactly what all that we did was for, but the wife was serious and therefore I was there beside her. And her friend, Ouen (like Owen, but with the oo sound).

So, for the first time in my life I got pickpocketed. Well, I have grabbed people with their hands in my pocket before, and always in the Philippines. But I stopped them, so it wasn't really a pickpocketing.

This time, also, I snapped off what was going on and put my hands over my pockets to stop the theft. Unfortunately, I snapped off what was going on after they had cleared out my left side pockets. We were 20,000 strong, remember, and pressed all up on one another. I realized that these teens were getting in front of me and then slowing down on purpose. I thought they were trying to piss me off for a second there. Then I said to myself, "Hey. They may be trying to get to my pockets." I wasn't sure, but it seemed a reasonable assumption given the situation and
surroundings. So I put my hands down over the pockets and kept contact with my wallet (yes- in a side pocket) and camera. Feeling their bulk, I was certian that if something was going on, I was already on top of it.

I did indeed keep possession of my camera and empty wallet. They were in my right hand pockets. What I lost, and I didn't figure it out until 15 or 20 min later, was my iPhone and 15,000 baht. Now 15,00 baht might seem like a lot. And it is. I had just cashed $500 American, which was 15,905 baht. So they got like $480 or so. Little theiving piss ants. But what's done was done, so we continued our evening and still had a great time.

Wife is going crazy because I won't shave and I won't get a haircut. That's OK. Wives need to be defied occasionally. Especially when you're talking the important stuff like haircuts and not shaving. Anyway, I spent $11,000 on this vacation and flew her business class all the way here. She can humor me.

Great "Junior Suite" we got here. A living room, bedroom, kitchenette, and bathroom. TVs and DVD players. In room washing machine. I know! How convienent is it to have a washing machine in the room? It's a place called The Royal President. I did try to explain the irony of "Royal President" to the wife, explaining that in the USA we didn't want a king (Royal) so we elected a leader from the people (President). So the two terms would actually be mutually exclusive. She was typically uninterested in my trivia. Anyway, this place is only costing us $77 a night and includes breakfast every day.

I have 190+ pictures so far, about 16 of them interesting. I will post 1 or 2 with this blog, but I suspect the free WiFi will be kind of slow, and will just wait until I get home to post more of them. (Note: WiFi is fast. Now my only excuse is that right now I'm too lazy)

The government struck a deal to dissolve parliment and hold elections a year early. And also, I think, to re-write portions of the constitution. The protesters said "OK, we'll take that deal and go home". Then they threw in a couple of grenade attacks and bombings and said, "Hang on. We might take the deal or might not, We're still deciding." The police are sympathetic to the protesters and do nothing. The Army is less so, but in Thailand, they try to avoid turning the army out on the citizenry. Which is actually a pretty good thing, if you think about it. However, the Prime Minister has finally given an ultimatum (to be carried out, one supposes, by the Army since the police are openly unwilling) to clear out or be cleared out. That has every chance of being quite violent. And, as a side note, the area of confrontation is only 15-20 blocks away from here. I didn't catch the date the PM gave them until to disperse, but I am hoping it is the day I leave or later. I need to be at work in Panama City, FL the following Monday, and TSA is a good bunch (heh heh...and with a straight face) but might not be inclined to believe me if I told them I couldn't get there on time because I was pinned in by the crossfire coming from civil war in a steamy, SouthEast Asian kingdom.

Have had me some mega pool time. Ouen thinks I am so brown as to appear Thai. Except for the gray beard and goofy smile that is.Fine by me. I have been mostly disconnected from things. Feels good to have no worries, concerns, or time tables. I turned on my work Blackberry so I could charge it. I will need it when I get home to summon my ride home. Anywsay, the fool thing buzzed in my hand for 45 seconds. It was downloading all of my Outlook emails. Somehow or another, I am connected to work. I didn't ask for the international roaming to be turned on. But there it is, bigger'n Dallas-- 3 bars with DTAC TH. I sent a test email just to see if maybe it was cached from my layover in D.C. or something. But my co-worker immediately replied. Weird.

We should forgive our enemies, but only after they’ve been taken out and shot, Out.
Ramblin' Ed

Internet Service 2 Baht/Minute. Minimum 20 Baht

2010-05-05T21:28:00.004-05:00

I will make a lot of mistakes on thisa blog probably. The keyboard sticks a little and I am typing using my fat, sweaty fingers. Sweat is not just beading up on my forehead, it is massively pooling, and running down into my eyes, onto my glasses and down my neck. I am in southern Thailand, on the island of Koh Samui. I think the province is calld Surat Thani, but that could be a city. Or a cola, really, for all I know.

Got no pictures of red shirted protesters, though I snapped a couple of pics of th soldiers and police. It was kinda strange riding the skytrain and passing rifle toting soldiers, in quasi-riot gear, on every platform. There were large amounts of police and soldiers out on the streets, too. Some sandbag fortification, but not much. The only heavy equipment I saw was a single tank dug in outside of what I believe was the television station. But this is Thailand. You party around the unrest and through the coups.So we do.

It took 3 days to get my watch to run. It is one of those Seiko kinetic ones, but I had not worn it for like 2 years. So I basically was just doing things in Ed time until the watch finally seized the plot and began keeping decent time.Wasn't so bad, really. This vacation was all about disappearing from the drudgery for a while. So to that I say, mission accomplished.

Will be seeing you.
Ramblin' Ed

Trust the man who searches for truth, but not the one who's found it

2010-04-25T09:07:00.011-05:00

Today was a beautiful Spring Florida day. A little breezy coming in from the northwest, portending the rain that is to arrive later in the day. But the sun was out and I was in a mind to do just that which needed doing. Now, I can be called a lot of things, and in fact I have. But shirker of doing that which needs doing is not one of them.

I received a phone call from my 3 year old neighbor, Noah. It showed as his mama's cell phone, so I suspect there was a bit of cahoots going on. First thing he asks, and yes, this is a completely true story, was, "Hey Ed. Are you at work?" "No, Noah. I'm home watching a movie." [Kill Bill Pt.1] "Ed...come play water with me." So there I was, 11 AM on a beautiful day, running back and forth in the sprinklers like I was 47 years younger. That's right...make me grow up!

County fines have been paid and my impending legal troubles have evaporated. I got promoted at work and I have a 2 week vacation in Thailand scheduled to start next Friday. The wife is staying in Bangkok an additional 6 weeks past me, so it's like another vacation when I get home. All is not kumbayah and flutterbyes, but things are better.

I may blog from Thailand, especially if I can get some protester pictures, but mostly I intend to go deep underground and push the daily trials and tribulations out of the back of my mind. And I intend to get a daily massage. Word.

I am still on 3 types of medicine. But since 2 of them are fun and make the world all warm and fuzzy, I don't consider it work. Anyway, the only "mandatory" prescription I have is for cholesterol and it seems to be working. Egad! I sound so aged. Stop me if I start musing on hip replacements.

Y'all are going to see some great pictures below. I ran across this guy's work when googling "Whiteville, NC" and thought to myself, what better way to show my appreciation for his work than to post it on my blog without permission or compensation. They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I'm thinking that theft comes in second. 'Sall I'm saying.

Anybody who also reads Appalachianist's blog has run across Sage's musings...rambling stories...keen insight...whatever. Anyway, ol Sage used to stomp around my neck of SENCland (South East North Carolina) as the Wilmington paper referred to it. He was familiar with Riegelwood, which is where I grew up. He even mentioned Lake Waccamaw. Growing up I remember hearing about a type of fish (shad, crappie, or perch) that was easy to catch. You just went out on the lake and started smacking the water with your paddle and they would come to investigate. They would school up right on top of the water and all you had to do was scoop them out with a landing net. I searched google and Bing, but could find no corroboration, so you'll just have to take my word for it.

One more thing I remember about living in SENCland. The county seat was held in high esteem. I have not lived anywhere since that I have even heard the term "County Seat", much less where everybody knew where it was. But in Columbus County North Carolina, everyboody knew that Whiteville was ours. That culrural awareness of it's place in the scheme of things did not, however, save it from being small and boring.

Was going to rhyme for you, but the Rhyme-o-tron wouldn't fire up this morning. However, on the new Trucker's album "The Big To Do" there is a song told from the perspective of a dancer in a strip club. Might take you a couple of readings to see it, but this is one of the most beautiful things I have read in some time. I hope it will suffice:

The pretty girls from the smallest towns
get remembered like storms and droughts
that old men talk about for years to come
I guess that's why they give us names
So a few old men can say they saw us rain when we were young

Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read, out
Ramblin' Ed

Frisbeetarianism is the belief that when you die, your soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck

2010-04-16T06:42:00.007-05:00

Been watching this show called Parenthood. I started because I have been in lust with Lauren Graham since Gilmore Girls and I like most things (couldn't take Cocoon, no matter the story) that Ron Howard gets into. The theme song during the opening credits is Dylan's "Forever Young". And it's even Dylan singing. That song is just so great. Tangled Up In Blue has it beat, and always will, but Forever Young has legs of it's own.

So Appalachianist surprised me. Thrice. 1) He's still reading this, which is a shocker. 2) He mentioned Wrightsville Beach to me, which is pretty much where I grew up. In the Wilmington, NC (area) before it beccame the cool mecca for shooting CW teen dramas. And 3) He quoted from "Amber", which means he read the poems, which equates to shocker #2. Way to go App! Keep 'em on their toes.

I have been going to therapy. Not the touchy feely kind. Or maybe it is. Don't really have anything to compare. Well, I went through therapy with Tony Soprano for 6 or 8 seasons, if that counts. Anyway story long --> shorter, my mental relief valve is all stopped up. Dang, I hate to hear that. But it does explain a lot. So anyway, a lot of energy going into working on that. I am pretty resiliant, bouncy actually, so now that I see the problem, and the crux of the problem is that people don't do what I want, I should be able to tweak me brain. I asked him if I'd ever be a carefree hippie again, but he didn't answer.

Work is going great. I solidified my leadership position in our satellite office. I was meritoriously promoted to a higher pay band, moving from Technical Trainer to Sr. Technical Trainer. Yep, already ordered the business cards. I don't mind working hard, in fact I kind of like the feeling of accomplishment. But that's just it, there has to be that feeling of accomplishment.

I think our Governor, the very gumby Charlie Crist, has decided that he can't win a Senate seat as a Republican due to his inability to take a stand on principle, no matter how wrong the principle. He has not said that yet, but he gotten all backboney, whipping out the veto pen and going pure maverick on everybody in sight. It has forced him to do the right thing a few times, which may not have happened if he had kept his cushy lead over the whippersnapper Marco Rubio, who is fast blowing in from his South Florida fan base. So I think he is doing the "in your eye" samba so that in a few weeks he can announce that he has philosophical differences with both the Democrats and his own party, and therefore must (MUST!) run as an Independant. Just my guess. In other news, Alex Sink continues to run for Governor using the mesmerizingly weird strategy of, yeah, I'm running for Governor, but you can't tell I'm running for Governor. I'm in-vis-a-ble.

Drive by quoting: I’m waning on awake

Got a brand new this morning rhyme for you below. Hope I post a little more frequently than this.

Yeah, I'm posting, but you can't tell I'm posting, out
Ramblin' Ed

Grinning Crooked 16 April, 2010

I have often gone and done
what I have never meant to do
I have asked for your forgiveness
but I gave forgiveness, too
We ain't neither one been someone
that nobody ought to trust
Yeah, water flows
What's done is done

You were pretty as a picture
I still picture you sometimes
Sittiing in them roadside flowers
grinning crooked, quoting Prine
With the wind from semi-trailers
blowing back your auburn hair
Ain't ours to choose
What's there is there

If I've ever found the easy road
I could not find the ramp
If I've ever had the perfect line
I could not find a stamp
If you ever thought I wasn't
who I always tried to be
You let it slide
That's you and me

Simple is as simple does
and ever after never was
I was raised beside the swampland
you were not, and that's a plus
We ain't neither one been someone
got them stars stuck in our eyes
Truth's like a snake
and there it lies

Just like a snake
Right there it lies

I have often gone and done
what all I told me not to do
I have left behind these dirt roads
For a slippery slope or two
I have tangled up my mind
Until I twisted and I spun
That's how it goes
what's done is done

And may we stay
Forever young

(Thanks Bobby)

Ed
Cigar Tree

Better to lose a lover than to love a loser

2010-03-30T13:48:00.006-05:00

You know, when we were in our 20s we just did things. I told a girl that we ought to date, so we did. But it stayed pretty long distance most of the time, so I asked her to quit her job. So she did. Then we decided to get married. Just like that. A pinkie shake and it was a done deal. We'll marry now. Then came the tough questions from the family like...when? When? Hmmmm hadn't really thought about it. So I pulled a date out of thin air (kinda sorta - though there is slightly more story to it than that), asked the girl if that date would work for her. Her reply of "Whatever" sealed the deal. We got married. We moved around. We started and quit jobs. Your twenties are so great. You can do whatever you want. And if it all heads south on you, you just pick yourself up and start over. But you don't make so much money though. That's what your fifties are for.

So, Coal Miner's Daughter has all these recipes and food concoctions she posts on her blog. I used to do more of that. The high point of my food-centric posts being, in my opinion, being the February 2005 post on the "Hamdog Cheeseburger". I repost it here in its entirety:

Hamdog cheeseburger w/ cayenne

OK dudes and dudettes. Appalachian kinfolk and Idahosers. Take note, all. I made a cool sandwich yesterday. I do not know that it has never been made before, as it was itself inspired by another sandwich I read about and also it seems to me SOMEBODY else would have tried this by now. But I had never heard of or seen it before so when I thought of it I went ahead and made it a reality. It goes like this here:

I took ground beef and made a round, very thin patty. I laid 3/4 of a hot dog on top of it. Alongside the hot dog I laid a goodly sized rectangular piece of Swiss cheese. I sprinkled it liberally (I know, the L word, but in this case "conservatively" would not be the right way to go) with crushed cayenne peppers, although cursed cayenne peppers may work just as well. I covered it over with another very thin patty. [Ed. note - I almost called it a "meat hat", but that sounded kinda gross.] This made for a fairly good sized burger, oh I'd say about a 1/4 pounder size.

Then I struck that sucker on the ol' George Foreman for 12 minutes until it was good and cooked and the cheese was starting to ooze out. Mmmm-mmmmm...good eating.

You're welcome. You may all benefit from my selfless research.

Mmmmmeat, out.

Now I have not reached such culinary heights in a while. But I did find an interesting recipe for a quick, yet wonderfully tasty, lunch sandwich. I take Italian sandwich bread, but you could probably use...well, just use what I tell you. I'm directing this joint. So you take the bread and toast it the toaster oven. On the tray, so one side is toasted and crunchy and the other side is all warm, but soft. Italian sandwich bread, much like their wedding vows, got a lot of holes in it, so you gotta work around that. Now, you get a big old gob of crunchy peanut butter. I have been using the stuff from the Dollar Store, but I give you leeway on this. I think you should follow directions, but some folks, for some fool reason, are not keen on Dollar Store groceries. Anyway, spread that big old gob down thick and smooth, the peanut butter making like a tasty brown Spackle to fill in the holes in the bread. Then... yes, there's a then. Up to now it's just a peanut butter sandwich..... you pull out the can of Pillsbury Vanilla Frosting and lather up the soft warm inside of the other slice of bread. Yeah, I know, you already know how good that tastes.

Life is a pretty big bummer right now. Not going into details, at all, but I have been fined heavily by the county, have impending legal troubles, and feel frazzled at work. I got myself a prescription for anxiety medicine and have signed up for counseling. I want to get back to my mellow old hippie self soon. But when it rains bad luck, seems it pours. Anyway, with that said my rather long absence from posting recently is explained.

Will fill in the details one day if I feel I need to. Otherwise, to quote the master himself, David Letterman, "I wouldn't give my troubles to a monkey on a rock. Poems below.

Don't let life discourage you; everyone who got where he is had to begin where he was, out
Ramblin' Ed

White Stained

Did you smile cuz you knew I would tumble?
Could you wait or did you just have to tell?
Could you see that I wore my fears just like a bandana?
Crashed down and see how hard I fell
Crashed down and see how hard it felt
The sidewalk where we saw our secrets spilled.

Did you see me go running for cover?
See me hide from the light of day?
Must have known I would call you up when I was all wasted.
Jacked up and crying on the line
Smacked around and grabbing for a time
The promises had not yet gone to lies.

Seems your smile used to come more freely.
Your eyes used to dance and laugh whenever I'd call.
You were my muse and I was your hard luck hero.
White stained and crooked as they came.
White stains too easy, don't they say.
Honey, I don't see you 'round too much these days.

Smoked the butt to the end and that's when I flicked the filter.
Shower of sparks that died in the gutter drain.
What is there left but to turn and to walk off slowly?
Oh darling, if I pray it will...
do you reckon maybe time would just stand still?
On this sidewalk where we saw our secrets spilled.

This sidewalk where we saw our secrets spilled.

Ed
CPOQ B308
Yokosuka

Amber

The air was still and I felt the thrill
of having you close by.
Love, and dreams of sex, and alcohol.

You smiled at me, heart skipped a beat.
You whispered in my ear.
Elvis smiled from the velvet on the wall.

Been a lonely rolling stone
coming to a rest.
Been a lot of things gone wrong
but I think I liked you best.
Bourbon talks straight on the rocks
and love's a dangerous thing.
Hey Amber,girl, let me be your slave.

The lightning bugs lit up the woods
with pinpoints of delight.
The shadows rolled in close and teased the moon.

You said "let's dance" and threw a glance
off somewhere in your mind.
I played a song so slow it left the room.

Been a lonely rolling stone
coming to a rest.
Been a lot of things gone wrong
but I think I liked you best.
Bourbon talks straight on the rocks
and love's a dangerous thing.
Hey Amber,girl, let me be your slave.

A pile of clothes, like do's and don'ts
lay crumpled on the floor.
No damage done, it wasn't far to fall.

Slow and smooth, the earth don't move
but Amber saw it all.
And Elvis smiled from the velvet on the wall.

Been a lonely rolling stone
coming to a rest.
Been a lot of things gone wrong
but I think I liked you best.
Bourbon talks straight on the rocks
and love's a dangerous thing.
Hey Amber,girl, let me be your slave.

Hey Amber,girl, let me be your slave.

Ed
Norfolk, VA

They're so cute when they're apathetic

2010-03-15T05:49:00.007-05:00

After I had been in Boston 2 days during a pretty wicked nor'easter, I sent this email back to some friends in Florida :
Well, it finally quit raining sideways long enough to try to snow. Failing that, it continued raining sideways a while longer. After 2 days though, it looks like the rain has stopped. The sun is making a cautious appearance and I must say it is quite beautiful as it reflects off of the massive flooding. Wish you were here. Ed

That was a true assessment at the time. However, soon after writing that the sun came out good, the wind shifted from the west, and it turned into a gorgeous, gorgeous day. I have to be fair about that.

From the St. Petersburg Times recently:
A Florida native, Hastings has served in Congress since 1993, when he became Florida's first African-American member since Reconstruction. Earlier he worked as a lawyer and a federal judge, until he was removed from office for bribery and perjury. (Emphasis is mine)

We are hooking up tonight (it was St. Paddy's day when I started this post) with a bud from Canada and an old boss who lives here for a double celebration. Seems like my co-worker, Johnny FN, is turning 30 today. Today being St. Patricks Day. St. Patricks Day in Boston. Where there are, I suspect, more than a few citizens of Irish descent. Brian is driving us into South Boston where he says the real Irish pubs are. Then leaving us there. Well, that's harsh. But we are taking the train home.

------ Now I am home-----

I filled out my census form when I got back from MA. It was waiting on me. I had been reading in the USA Today how some folks chafed at the personal question of "What is your phone number?" Seriously? You have a problem with that? You will give that info to a 19 year old clerk at Tire Kingdom to buy mud tires for your F-150 at 90 days same as cash, but not to the government for help allocating federal funding and congressional seats.

Then I read that others had a problem with stating their race, wanting everyone to mark "Other" and write in "American" because, you know, American is now a race and not a nationality. I suspect the information is used for purposes such as identifying the changes in our racial makeup over the last 10 years and probably in some way for ensuring fairness in elections and congressional districts. But what do I know, I'm just a dumb-ass caucasion.

I filled the whole form out in 5 minutes, for both the wife and myself. I found nothing even remotely objectionable. And when I was done I remember thinking, "That's it? They didn't really ask anything."

And while we are on the subject of the dysfunctional.... It looks like health care will pass. Finally. I think the GOP has been unconscionable in it's opposition and especially its tactics. C'mon--Death Squads for Grandma?? Concerns...debates...parry and thrusts...all OK. Democracy is compromise. But for the greater good.

But the (false) alarms and (fake) hysteria by some politicians has been ridiculous. I mean, if the Democrats are all going to pay, and pay BIG, during the next elections for passing this bill, I just don't understand why they haven't just shut up and gotten the heck out of the way. Let 'em pass the bill, and then the right minded and righteous should be able to just take a leisurely stroll into the vacated seats when they all get voted out. I mean, it'll be that easy, right? Or is there the tiniest chance that the changes will improve things? That's the question, I suppose.

For three days after death hair and fingernails continue to grow but phone calls taper off, out
Ramblin' Ed

BUZZ 17 Sep 2003

You don't know what I'm after
You don't know what I bring
You don't know where I've been to
You don't know where I'll be

Tatoos might tell stories
You don't know how they end
Hide your eyes 'neath the covers
Your lovers can't be your friends

Feel the night's dark and warm embrace
Had it once but it all slipped away

You confused pain and passion
You can't tell hope from fear
You were there for a moment
almost crystal and clear

You reached out for a heartbeat
grabbed it right by the throat
left it dying and bleeding
by the side of your sad, lonely road

Let the night hide the stains from our eyes
'Cause life can get messy sometimes

And the buzz
that was love
kinda stings.

Your smile was my weakness
It was wicked and sweet
I was stealing your kisses
You were poisoning me

We were painting our picture
Using nothing but grays
We were telling our story
We were having our say

And the night's aimless shadows are all
That we hang in the end on our wall

The drugs killed the pain for a while
But a world free of tears is a lie

Ed
22 Kamakura Heights

I like trees because they seem more resigned to the way they have to live than other things do

2010-02-23T07:19:00.008-05:00

You love something, but still you shuffle along with your life. You wander a little here, hang out a little there. You kinda lose track of time as you race through your life at a leisurely pace. There becomes a separation. A separation of miles compounded by a separation of time. Your passions invariably take on the patina of time, coloring once bright memories with the greens and bleached whites of distant fondness. You are gone and you won't be back. You didn't even know it.

I strolled old Mobile last night. I soaked in the quiet charm, wrapping myself in it like an old, soft favorite sweatshirt. As the evening moved from the defiant, blinding last rays of a setting sun, through the dusk and into the nighttime proper, I embrace the rightness of the moment. The pleasure took the edge off of, but could not overpower, the ache that settled over me. It is not by birth that I am a child of the Gulf Coast. But I am that son.

My meanderings took me past reminders of days gone by. Times that were more genteel. A neon rimmed sign offering fine furniture and cheerful credit. The brick buildings, wearing their time passed as worn corners and faded colors. The parks. The giant oaks, their branches holding out the spanish moss to dance gently in the breezes that blew softly and randomly off from the bay. And I ached. It was an ache of finally returning home and knowing you could not stay.

The gulf coast pulses from music. It is not performed, it is the life blood of the land. I passed a storefront as I walked. I could tell that the building had been converted, though if there had ever been a sign, it was long since removed. There were posters plastered every which way, tattooing the windows as colorfully as the ones on any drunken seaman who had passed by, intent on making the dives and juke joints just a few blocks on. The posters were for bands, some local, some national, that called the stage their home on rowdy, smokey Saturday nights. Tonight there were young people spilling out, leaning up against the wall, sprawled out on the old couch brought onto the sidewalk, and clustering on the curb, smoking and talking. There was a time when I too could just be. Just be in the moment. No worries about what should be. Or could be. Just living for the night. This night. I don't believe time makes you old. But it does steal your youth.

I stared at the names on the posters. Drive By Truckers. Southern Culture on the Skids. North Mississippi All Stars. And on and on. Just reading the names I could feel the funk and the stomp, washing over the crowd in hot and humid waves, and wafting out the door to drift slowly off into the warm night air. No, the people of the coast don't just do music. Music lives in them. Does the music live in me? I think it wants to. But Tampa's gulf coast is not that of the south. Geographically speaking it is. But it does not have the tradition, the memories, the drawl.... it doesn't have the soul. It doesn't have that certian crawfish mentality. When I left Mississippi the last time, I didn't know it was the last time. But it was. The music calls me, but the voices are faint. And I ache.

A life well lived will still contain regrets, out

Ramblin' Ed

I like to play blackjack. I'm not addicted to gambling, I'm addicted to sitting in a semi-circle.

2010-02-20T08:21:00.007-05:00

There was a bumper sticker on the small car in front of me. The good ones are always on small, old, or old small cars it seems. The big cars tend to have stickers proclaiming either their choice of political candidate or what a great model citizen their little munchkin is at their middle school. This one, in amongst the rocker band stickers, read: America. Love it or give it back. No, I'm not really in favor of giving it back. We have too much invested in strip malls now to do that. But I did appreciate the smile.

I watched the Super Bowl in a hotel room next to Boston's Logan Airport. As a guy that basically lives in hotels, I wonder who picks out the furniture. You open the door and everything looks nice. But if you want to sit and watch TV, you are plumb out of luck. Nothing is comfortable. It's all pretty...pretty UN-comfortable. Not to repeat my self too much, but when I am King, things like this will be fixed. ASAP. One of my first decrees will be for every hotel ... OK, it's reasonable enough to exempt some of the seedier motels and any hotel rooms that rent by the hour.... for every hotel room that is on the market to come with a recliner. If not in the room initially, at least available in much the same way as a roll away bed. I'm telling you, elect me King. I am full of great ideas.

On the 27th, I'd like to give a shout out to the Red Queen who may or may not be turning a year older.

I got a card from some kids on my birthday. OK, it was my sister's kids. The older niece wished me a "Happy Birthday, Hillbilly". Good to see that they're being taught respect. The younger niece, the one who I have the highest hopes for obviously, allowed "Happy Birthday. You're so cool." And yes, I do appreciate her keen sense of awareness. But she needs to get out more, right? Me being the coolest is a lot like looking at the clothes in your closet and saying, "Well, the brown dress is the most colorful." No, don't try to talk me out of it. I have neck fat now. On a scale of None to Not Very, how cool is that?

Headed up to Pensacola next week. Have not had a trip within Florida in quite a while. And it is the first one that hasn't taken me down into that third world mess we call Miami. So I am looking forward to it. I have a good friend living in Gautier, MS (basically Biloxi). We try to hang whenever we can. So I am going to drive the 1/2 hour west from Pensacola and he will drive the 1/2 hour east from Gautier and we will meet up on Dauphin Street in Mobile, Bamalama for dinner and some drinks. Dauphin Street is like a smaller, less weird French Quarter. Like Ybor City on a non-Guavaween Saturday night. Anyway, below I added a shot of one of my favorite places to eat when I'm there. I just wish the food was better.

I will come out when you calm down and stop using expletives to describe me, out
Ramblin' Ed

We are none of us infallible--not even the youngest of us

2010-02-12T05:15:00.004-05:00

I rode out my first nor'easter in a Boston hotel room. The storm snuck in on a whimper, dusted the joint with snow, and then slunk off quietly. I was a little disappointed not to see more snow and fury, as I have always enjoyed a good storm.

My favorite was the one to the left. We went through it in the winter of 1999 in the South China Sea. We broke the ship in a couple of places by going through that one. Mostly though, I sit in my garage, porch, or yard swing and watch thunderstorms roll in. It is one of my pleasures in life.

But the nor'easter-NOT was just what it was. A product of the overactive minds of local news stations, whipping up interest. We get the same thing in Florida. We got the same thing in Mississippi...and North Carolina...and California. Breathless local weather folks and their studio counterparts, speculating how "this bad boy is gonna blow the white right off the rice, it's that honking big and/or strong." Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't. But "wait and see" has never sold ad time.

Don't do winter gracefully, so I have not been anywhere this trip. Took a hotel at the airport and didn't bother with a car. I use the Hertz shuttle to get back and forth. Or at least I will until they figure out that I ride a lot but never seem to rent a car. I have a train station about a hundred yards from the hotel, so if I needed to get somewhere, I could. But mostly, just been utilizing the kitchenette for dinner and watching TV. Idol is on again. And Survivor started up last night. Tonight is the opening celebration of the Winter Olympics. And Sunday, although unless something horrific happens with the airline schedules I will be home, the new season of Amazing Race starts.

I love The Amazing Race, but hate the fall season of it because of 60 Minutes. Because no matter how long a football game goes, CBS insists on showing the entire 60 Minutes show before they will start prime time. So you never know exactly when it will start. It's a pain.

Well here's something I never expected I would write. One thing I like about the Boston area is that they have mild franks. Not only are they mild, they are quite soft. In the south we have hot dogs. Some say "all beef". Those are made with beef, though it may be better not to ask what parts. Some say "chicken". Those are made from chickens, and again we do not delve. Some just say "hot dogs". Those are made with who knows what. You eat those with ketchup, mustard, and a conscious effort not to think about ingredients. Most upsetting mental visual for me is the "mechanically seperated chicken". All I can think of is a giant washing machine-like contraption, bucking and spinning, with feathers, legs, and beaks a'flying. And the machine has an evil grin.

Anyway, this is what I liked. They don't make me burp. Since there is no picture (OK, there were pictures, but none large enough to use) available on google images, just suffice yourself with the below description.

Since 1883, Schonland's Franks and Sausages have graced the grills and tables of Northern New Englanders. A tradition of quality and attention to detail in providing the best tasting franks and sausage has been the hallmark of Schonland's and the reason for its sucess.

I love my titles. I think one day I should try to have them at least marginally have something to do with the post. But until they do, and I offer no promises as to when or even if that will happen, treat them like I do, as random quotes.

Well, this has been useless. Sorry for the 5 minutes that you will never get back. But there was a cool storm picture. And it was real. So a little living vicariously through me action going on there. That's something.

Nietsche is Pietsche, out

Ramblin' Ed

Party Gras

2010-02-08T06:22:00.002-05:00

Saints win. I can exhale now.

Ramblin' Ed

The trouble with eating Italian food is that five or six days later you're hungry again

2010-02-05T14:33:00.025-05:00

We went to the State Fair. The perfect day for it, as it was 75 degrees and sunny. I had the day off so me and the wife and the brother all headed over there about noon. It was the first few hours of the first day, so it was not very busy yet. Kids still in school. parents still at work. Cool.

At first we thought we had made a wrong turn somewhere. I was pretty sure I knew where the fairgounds were. Still in Tampa which is still in Hillsborough County which is still in Florida, a place with a long, long tradition of smiling and telling you how much they've got your back as they reach deeper and deeper into your pocket. A place that'll raise the "fees" on everything by triple digit percentages and crow about how they have cut or not raised taxes in (__fill in the blank___) number of years. Yeah, that place.

So when we cleared the barricades and police cruiser, complete with a cop who I am sure was not napping, despite the appearance of nappage, and saw the sign at the gate booth that read: DO NOT STOP. NO CHARGE FOR PARKING I was... well, frankly, I was confused. It was un-Tampa/Hillsborough/Florida-like. And the tickets were only half what I was expecting them to be. It was all very disconcerting.

Luckily the rides and food were grossly overpriced. At last. Some normalcy returning to my world.

The day the Saints play in the Super Bowl, that's this Sunday for those of you who are uninformed heathens, I get on a plane for Boston. I am flying early in the morning. But let me re-cap real quick for you.

1. I am flying to Boston

2. In the winter.

3. I am changing planes.

4. I arrive 4 1/2 hours befor kickoff and my hotel is on the airport property.

5. This Super Bowl is particularly important to me.

Conclusion: For those of you unfamiliar with air travel, not to mention the natural orneriness of things, just taking item numbers 1,2, and 5 in to account almost guarantees massive weather related delays, cancelled flights, and me getting to my hotel room long after the Super Bowl has been decided. And since it is the Super Bowl, there will be no way to not know who won it before I can get to my DVR to watch it. Dang!

I had more to write about. I always do. But I get winded when I type too much. And I get so into describing things (there's quite a lot of verbal twists and turns involved in me writing down something, even something simple) that I forget what it was I was going to tell you next. But that's 50 years of hard living for you. Well, maybe not hard living. But semi-hard living for sure. Which could, I suppose, also be referred to as 50 years of semi-soft living, too. Anyway, there are 13 pictures below, which as you know, equates to 13,000 additional words. So I'm calling it all good.

A person reveals his character by nothing so clearly as the joke he resents, out

Ramblin' Ed

Yo ho ho. It's a pirate's nap for me.

Step 1: Find the Doughnut Burger joint

Step 2: Buy a doughnut burger. Step 2 1/2: Get all mouth watery in anticipation. I mean, we all like burgers. And we all like doughnuts. D'ya see where I'm going with this.....

Step 3: Devour. Mmmmmm.... sweet empty calories. (The sign on the joint in the background actually advertises Deep Fried Pepsi [tried it], and Deep Fried Butter [eeewwww!] although all you will be able to make out is UTTER)

Pork Chop on a Stick = Hog on a Log.

If you are recording a game at home, but want to watch a different game in a hotel room in Louisiana, what can you do? I mean about that crawler along the bottom of ESPN channels that is always there, even during commercials, giving you up to the milli-second score updates? It grabs your eyes like a tractor beam and resistance is f-f-futile! My fix? Use the guest services book (and a bottle of free water) to perform the guest service of CRAWLER BLOCKING. There are no problems, only ridiculous soloutions.

Noah getting a picture of the RC car that had been alternately chasing him and being chased by him. Noah took about 3 really good pictures. Out of 27 or so.

That's a mighty big tire. I used the munchkin to give it scale. I know, how professional.

Grave Digger from the front.

Mighty Mutt crossing the street from the stadium over to the pit area. These trucks were pretty loud.

Not a fan of loud, by the way.

Took the wife to a hotel in St. Pete for a night. This is the view out of our window, over looking Progress Energy Field and Tampa Bay. Too bad there was no game that night.

As you can see, Pepe like to sleep. Anywhere he pleases. "Yo, pillow girl, SIT STILL!!"

---------------- Random --------------------

When You're Drinking 3 July,2006

How're you doing?

What brings you here tonight

You don't come around much

It seems like for such a long, long time

I've been wondering if I might miss you

Or if I even have the right

That's why it crossed my mind to wonder

What brings you here tonight

So, how's the new guy

Things all working like you planned?

I'm happy for you

Don't laugh, I think I really am

For a while there, you know it hurt me

When you said I would never be your man

If I might ask you, how's it going?

Is it all working out as planned?

How've you been feeling

Just loose? Or fancy free?

No, it don't matter

But that question always gets the best of me

I know I was never what you wanted

But I was still just who I had to be

Like an ache, and, a sad mistake, and

When you're drinking, think of me

How're you doing, baby

And what brings you here tonight

You don't come around here much

Seems like for such a long, long time

And I was wonderin', if I might miss you

Or do I even got that right?

It crossed my mind, so yeah, I wonder

Who you doing here tonight?

It crossed my mind, so yeah, I wonder

Who are you doing here tonight?

Brandon Blvd.

<<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>><<<<>>>>

Way Down Low 12 October 2000

Calm was so easy like yesterday

That's when I had nothin'.

A man with a plan with it gone astray

Damn, ain't it always something.

I got twisted 'round a neon sign

Buzzin' down to the crossroads.

Fighting that old Mississippi moon's

Like fighting the way the wind blows.

I'm gonna cry when I say goodbye

But baby, I'll still be leaving

A hole in my soul got me way down low

But it ain't getting filled by grieving

I love the way that the cotton blows

Seems almost like it's dancing

Not like the dreams that was teasing me

'fore they burned up and turned to ashes

I'm gonna cry when I say goodbye

But it ain't gonna change me leaving

A hole in my soul knocks me way down low

But it ain't getting filled by grieving

Smile when you wave and I'll blow a kiss

You done lost another lover

You were a moment who's time had come

A moment I reckon's over

I'm gonna cry when I say goodbye

But baby, I'll still be leaving

A hole in my soul got me way down low

But it ain't getting filled by grieving

Otaru, Japan

It's not a matter of whether or not someone's watching over you. It's just a question of their intentions.

2010-01-27T08:27:00.007-05:00

The day I turned 50, so did the hippo at the local zoo. Also, a day or two later bubble wrap turned 50. With all 3 of these useless, but entertaining things hitting the half century mark simultaneously, you've gotta ask: Coincidence? I think so.

Hit the local sports store for some Saints gear to take back home. It was pandemonium. Everybody in South Louisiana was in there, throwing money around. And I waded right in and got mine too. One lady had on a shirt that read "Hell Breeses Over". Yeah, like you can do something like that with the name Rothlinsberger. Who dat say dey gonna out merchendise dem Saints?

Blue Dog Cafe. Mmmmmmmm.

Watched the State of the Union address. I don't care how jaded you are, how could anybody not find something to like in the proposals? Anything. I liked it when he told the Republicans that requiring a super majority to pass ANYTHING was not really a plan. (Well, Mr. Obama, I think technically it is a plan, just a ridiculous one.) Then told the Democrats to get their heads out of their butts and try to show some leadership rather than just "running for the hills". Taking the money being recouped as bailout funds are repaid and using $30 billion of it to help the middle class was great. And you might as well go ahead and shoot me right now, but I think some of his proposed taxes are long overdue. Seriously. I'm just saying, as wave after wave of tax cuts went washing across this great nation, I don't remember my own tax bill going down. Did yours? I'm just saying. Ending tax credits for companies that take the handout and then move all of their jobs offshore. Give the tax credits for those who employ Americans. I mean, c'mon. If you're not even willing to consider any the things that were proposed, then I gotta think you're at least a part of the problem.

I went to see the monster trucks on my birthday. Not the races. They're coming back Feb 6th and I have tickets for then. But we went to Tampa Stadium and watched them being unloaded from the trailers and driving across the street to the pits where the public would be allowed to come see them. The new stadium is pretty big. And you could look up and see all those empty red seats, just like at a Bucs game.

I have monster truck pics, but this dang Sony camera is so proprietary that the cable is different and the memory card adapter does not fit anything I have. So I cannot download from the camera or the chip when I'm on the road, which is, you know, where I take the interesting photographs. Never had these problems with my Canon. I will post the photos later.

Alright. One more day to soak up the ambiance of Acadiana, then home to Florididdy.

Signs, signs. Everywhere there's signs. Blocking out the scenery and messing my mind, out

Ramblin' Ed

Wallpaper videos

2010-01-21T16:39:00.007-05:00

OK Go - Do What You Want (Wallpaper Version) from OK Go on Vimeo.

The road will be my home. The soft murmur of the airport security screeners will be my lullabye, gently probing and frisking my shoeless, beltless body to sleep. A hotel wil be my, well, hotel. Next week I'll be in cajun country, Lafayette, LA. Then in February I will go to Boston and then Pensacola. For starters. Business has been NUTS! We got a list of 17 trips, from Honolulu to Baltimore. And that's just for one training class. We have 3 more.

So, last things first. I finally got out of Toronto last week. I got on my plane which was delayed 20 minutes and then emptied. Yep. We didn't take off. They sent us to another plane at a different gate. The new gate was outside of the second security checkpoint that we, the poor U.S. bound international travelers had been required to endure, but on the other side of a different second checkpoint. I have taken to calling the second second checkpoint simply "the third" checkpoint.Yee Haw.

So, after waiting an hour and some change at our new gate, the announcement was made that our second plane was also, as they put it, unserviceable. Now dangit, things like, "hey, d'ya think this thing will get airborne?", are the kinds of things I expect to be taken care of BEFORE you pull it up to the gate. That announcement forced a second refugee movement, shuffling on over to a third plane/gate with our belonging in baskets atop our heads and our livestock, mostly goats, tagging along near our feet. Happy travels, eh. I got home to my Saints game, joined already in progress.

I turn 50 the day after tomorrow. I am not near as grizzled and time worn as I had expected. But the creakiness and achiness is about as advertised.But let me tell you, it's just not all bad. I figure, I get a lot more day out of the day now. You get the time you were always up, doing important crap like blogging, watching AFV, and nuke-rowaving hot dogs and buns. But you also get that peaceful and quiet extra 30 or so minutes every night as you gently pad from your soft, toasty bed over to the pee pot and back. Repeatedly. I know, right. That is so middle aged white guy that I expect to find myself next with me and my still amazingly hot wife sitting in seperate bathtubs in the woods, holding hands, and glancing at each other knowingly that..... when the time is right, I'll be ready. (You know, as long as it don't make me bleed blood, spaz out, wet myself, or call up my doctor screaming, "Oh my god, Doc, it's been OVER 4 HOURS!!)

Man, I heard a great joke yesterday.

We're expecting some storminess tonight. Blowing in off of the gulf, which is where the coolest storms blow in off. Of. Blow in off of. Off'n. . . . . whatever. Since the "OMG I can see my breath!" cold snap* things have around here been dry and brown. But we should get some good rain tonight. I think when I wake up things will have changed and we will find the Tampa Bay area wet and brown. Yep.

*Kinda weird to get to Canada, in January, and have the temp be more or less what I had in Tampa. Sucked worse, I would think, for the Ontario snowbirds who left the cold to spend a week or two down south, basking in the cold, eh.

Nothing matters very much, and few things matter at all, out
Ramblin' Ed

I didn't know how babies were made until I was pregnant with my fourth child.
Loretta Lynn
Save a little money each month and at the end of the year you'll be surprised at how little you have.
Ernest Haskins
When the candles are out all women are fair.
Plutarch (46 AD - 120 AD)

The human mind treats a new idea the same way the body treats a strange protein; it rejects it

2010-01-15T10:36:00.004-05:00

In Toronto. Not been what I expected. And the traffic is terrible. Up on the freeway it was Los Angeles or Washington, D.C. terrible. Luckily, the airport district is chock full of stuff to do.

Seems kind of weird to be in Canada in and have the weather be about the same as what I left in Florida. Now I do think Florida has warmed up since I have been gone, but still.

I was informed last night that you can't "look like you're from somewhere." That is a point well taken. I mean, I have thought about it, and she's right. How do you look like you're from somewhere, you know, short of tribal dress or facial tattoos. I guess it would be more likely that you could smell like you're from somewhere. I think that is something that would be possible. Or you could sound like you're from somewhere. Like Bitchyland.

------- End Friday, begin Saturday ---------

Had to drive all the way across Mississagua, a gritty little town whose main claim to fame seems to be strip joints and names that cannot be pronounced, to get there, but I found a great little cajun place called Big Daddy's. The food was good. Real good. My Bostonian friend sampled my jambalaya and immediately ordered his own. You know what the problem with really good food is? But first, this: mouth, stomach, brain. That is the pecking order when it comes to cajun food.

Now for the problem with the cajun foods. See, your brain will say, "We cannot possibly eat anything else." But, as you saw above, brain is last in line in the pecking order. Stomach pipes up and says, "Yes, I think if you give me one good belch I will be able to fit more in." And mouth (AKA my mouf) offers "I don't care what y'all say, this is goooood. GIVE ME MORE!" As you have already surmised, mouf wins.

I killed all day yesterday recovering from a too big lunch`(in my defense I slept past breakfast and didn't eat a dinner) and playing RISK and canasta on the computer. I had done my operator training on Wed. & Thurs. and they were spending Fri. doing the SOP training, which is developed and delivered in house. Sometimes we are allowed to observe it and get an idea on how they intend to use the technology (thanks LAX), but usually not. They were to go live with it today, Saturday, and I was to be on hand to assist the operators if they needed it. I know what you're thinking. Well, Ramblin' Ed, if you observe and/or assist them during the live use of the system, aren't you basically observing their SOP? Ummm.... OK, next question.

Last night about 2030, just after my travel office closed for the weekend, I got the call that go live had been pushed back and I would not be needed. So I am scrambling here to try to get out of Toronto and back to Tampa where I intend to drop my suitcase, comandeer the living room TV (the one with the DVR), and watch the Saints-Cardinals game. Word.

Anyway, time to get moving. I'd love to chat, but I have a country to leave.

As Plato said, Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle, out

Ramblin' Ed

Those who agree with us may not be right, but we admire their astuteness

2010-01-02T07:00:00.003-05:00

I am headed back to Ottowa. In January. Dang! I am freezing my buns off in Tampa, and now I am headed up where they grow tundra. Which is a shame, because I really loved Ottowa when I visited there...IN THE SPRING!!

I suspected as soon as that fool terrorist snuck stuff on a plane in his drawers that I would probably be getting busier than I already was going to be. Then they started debating the technology that would screen for that, the technology that I have been training operators on for 2 years now, and I was pretty sure that I was fixing to travel a lot. Then the President and others started saying, "get those machines in the airports, now." I smiled, because I knew what that meant. Today I got the call. I had been off of vacation only a few hours. "Can you get on a plane right away. We need to train up a mess of screeners." Yes, of course I can.

I feel just a little bit of pride here, if you will pardon me the emotion. I mean, we all shook our heads and allowed as how it was a real shame that the world is so full of such hateful zealots. And that is true. But at least I am able to go from town to town, putting into place the screener skills that may help to catch the next hateful zealot before he boards the plane. Seriously, we can't expect the successfully smuggled aboard explosives to misfire forever. So far we have been lucky.

OK, the following was the original blog. But I got distracted, then sidetracked, and eventually lost the point I was ponderously moving towards. So this is how far I got before the old timer's disease kicked in:

Don't know why he wasn't more tolerant. It was in him, it just wouldn't come out. I would sit quietly and listen to him speak, although it wasn't speaking so much as ranting. Or not even that, because it was not at all impassioned. When it comes right down to it, I suppose it was just rambling, even though it was coherent and had a point. No matter how preposterous that point might be.

There must have been some method to his madness. He was consistent in his opinions. But no matter his measured tone or his clever phrasing, there was always a trace of bile that lingered in the air well after the words had echoed away. While it was a torturous path getting there, his judgements were swift and precise, requiring only the suspension of your disbelief in order to see the light. His light.

I often wondered how one could remain so focused. I would tug on that thread, fascinated as I watched the unraveling. On the one hand, you can look at the facts. On the other hand, you can ponder the dictates of common sense. Or, on the third hand, you could just hate anything you did not agree with right out of existence. After all, the ends justifies the means, right?

I have long thought that the majority of Americans are decent and thoughtful. I have some difficulty reconciling that with the representative government that they often choose to elect, but despite that I stick to my presumption that by and large most of us want to do the right things for the right reasons. Most of us have a concept of "the greater good", do we not? I cannot understand, nor do I choose to find acceptable, the notion that you being against whatever the other guy is for, and being against it only because he is for it, is in any way standing for something. It is not a principle and it is not defensable. If you disagree with him, be intellectually honest enough to have a reason why. And, if it not asking too much, possibly have an alternative to offer.

Like the pundit wrote a few years ago concerning his party's image. "The problem is that everyone knows what we are against. But nobody knows what we are for." Yep.

Though I am not naturally honest, I am so sometimes by chance, out
Ramblin' Ed

The world is a tragedy to those who feel, but a comedy to those who think (or, Ask your child what he wants for dinner only if he's buying)

2009-12-25T08:47:00.004-05:00

I woke up and had a small gasp. Well, a small, internal gasp. Had you been standing there you'd not have noticed. Or you may have assumed gas, rather than internal gasp. But that's not the point. (And what the heck were you doing in my bedroom anyway!?) The point is that I gasped, small and internally, over seemingly awakening to a white Christmas. Of course, I thought it was fog, but still, that's white. Anyway, no joy. I had slept to 10 minutes past eight, which is very late for me. It was light out and I am not used to that. I usually arrive at work before the sun is up. And the fog turned out to just be a gray, drizzly sky. So... the day was off to an inauspicious start.

I have not blogged or answered email for a while. See below.

Day 5 of the Windows Vista saga. A few weeks back my Windows Vista decided that even though it can see my DVD drive just fine, can ascertain that it is operating properly, and can determine that all of the drivers are up to date, it can't see it in the sense of me using it. It cannot eject, it cannot read disks, and it cannot spin the drive. But you know, other than that the drive and drivers are operating properly.

I hit the tech sites and attempted the known fix, but it did nothing. So I got to thinking. The Microsoft site states that Service Pack 2 will fix the known problems in Service Pack 1, and the CD/DVD drive problem was wide spread and well known. So I downloaded and installed that.

I pretty much knew I was fixing to have problems on the second day. When it was still trying to install and configure SP2. I do not care how large the program patch, whe you are 2 days in to it things are already headed south on you.

Some disclaimers:
1. I am not without computers. I have 4. 3 are working fine. That's not the point.
2. 2 of the other 3 are also running Vista and have none of the problems I experience on this machine. This machine has always had issues with upgrades, just not this debilitating. I assume it is a conflict between Windows and some driver Toshiba loaded.

So, after 2 days, I finally got this computer to load up and it immediately told me that my Windows was not genuine and would have to be reloaded. Um, what?? But it was insistent. No worries though, I put in a restore point prior to downloading to SP2. There were problems that I will call problem A and problem B. Problem B first. The system restore point that the Microsoft site built alled "SP2 download" did not work and restore me to a time before the download. It did, however, take nearly 11 hours to reboot (had to install and configure SP2 again for some reason). Problem B is that the restore point I built manually had disappeared completely.

So I pulled all of my files that I care about off of the suddenly non-genuine Windows running machine and prepared to load the rescue disk, wipe the drive, and start over fresh. No problem. I do it all the time. Oh yeah, have I mentioned that Windows cannot see my otherwise properly functioning drive?

5 days later and after 3+ hours of remote troubleshooting (I give control of my machine to the tech in India and watch him work...it's cool) I am still having problems. The techs have been very eager to help and I cannot complain about the level or amount of assistance they have provided. I had, however, hoped for a little more than a proclamation of "Hmmmm... it shouldn't be doing that" at the end of each session. I mean, I was actually aware that it shouldn't be doing that before we even started.

I'm done bitching. Tech support is trying. And my ace in the hole is for him to reset my CD drive and I will reload all software. It has just been a hassle. I can see how people with only a single computer would hate Vista. However, like I said, I have had a number of Vista machines and this is the only problem machine. This is what I have to look forward to this Christmas Day:

Hi William
This is Suneesh with Microsoft Windows Technical Support. This is with reference to the Windows Service Request 1120436091
As per our last conversation, I am scheduling a call back from the Microsoft Technical Support Team.
Please find the timing that has been scheduled to continue working on the issue –
Call Back Date : 25th December 2009
Call Back Time : 10:00 AM – 12:00 PM
Time Zone : EST
Call Back Number : 6179575649

UPDATE: Now6 days and 4.5+ hours. What I have now is....

Hi William
This is Suneesh with Microsoft Windows Technical Support. This is with reference to the Windows Service Request 1120436091
As per our last conversation, I am scheduling a call back from the Microsoft Technical Support Team.
Please find the timing that has been scheduled to continue working on the issue –
Call Back Date : 26th December 2009
Call Back Time : 10:00 AM – 12:00 PM
Time Zone : EST
Call Back Number : 6179575649

Went to St. Pete to have Christmas Eve dinner with a co-worker. His brother and mother were there. It was a great day because in addition to turkey and green bean casserole and candied yams with marshmallows...mmmmm mmmmm goooood...... a pinochle game broke out. Yeah buddy, I love pinochle. Mom had learned from her husband, who was a lifer in the navy. She had taught her boys how to play. I learned to play as a lifer dog in the navy. So what I am saying is this: We all played by the same shipboard rules. Running trump, slapping down the cards, and, most especially gratifying, talking trash when you have the lead! What a great afternoon.

Mom & brother live in Brooksville and Johnny FN (my co-worker) lives in St. Pete. We all agreed to get together to play again and, as the gods smiled down on me, my house is the halfway point between Brooksville and St. Petersburg.

I have long been of the opinion that if work were such a splendid thing the rich would have kept more of it for themselves. - Bruce Grocott
A censor is a man who knows more than he thinks you ought to. - Granville Hicks
A little inaccuracy sometimes saves tons of explanation. - H.H. Munro
...You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows. - Bob Dylan
I didn't lie--I was writing fiction in my mouth. - Homer Simpson

No persons are more frequently wrong, than those who will not admit they are wrong, out
Ramblin' Ed

A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking

2009-12-11T07:56:00.005-05:00

I have been mocked, yes mocked!, for things I find genuinely inspired. I find beauty in small things. But I suppose some definitions are in order here first. "Inspired" does not mean "good" any more than "unique" necessarily means "useful". And when I say "small things", I mean small of consequence and not necessarily small of size.

For instance, I am totally in awe of the lyrics in the song LUMP, by Presidents of the USA. I love all POUSA songs because they refer to worms and fuzzy spiders and dune buggys for toads and being old and naked and.... well, not your normal pop tune imagery. So I was hooked as soon as I heard the lines:
Lump was limp and lonely and needed a shove
Lump slipped on a kiss and tumbled into love
She spent her twenties between the sheets
Life limped along at subsonic speeds

I took the picture of the rubber minnows at the right while perusing the $1 store at the flea market. Still kicking myself now for not buying the fishmonger. I mean, it's bionic!

It's always one thing or another at my age. My friend's wife just left him. No animosity. Just a casual mention that she figured she might as well be moving along. Well, at least there's no drama. And he still has his job. My other friend still has his wife, but his job moved on. Yet another friend is traveling the world with his wife (on vacation from his job - so he's OK on both those accounts) because he figures his back could go out any day now and he wants to travel while he can because he thinks it'll be harder to travel when he can't. Which actually seems to make sense. I hope his back never goes out because he brings me Cuban cigars back. Note to Feds: Ummm...no, he doesn't. Just kidding. Heh heh heh.

So, there is a wise girl out there, who may or may not still drop by this blogstop along the slow lane on the information parkway. She's making now like what I was always accused of being before... the disappearing kind. And to be completely "jiggy wit' it", she may or may not be all that wise. That was a self-inflicted moniker, kinda like San Diego just up and proclaiming themselves "America's Finest City". Still, I was pondering on her and her tribulations and triumphs when the god of cold Nevada sunshine reached down and thumped me right betwixt the eyes. And then there appeared, glowing in bright Department of Transportation green, a sign. Literally. And I knew all was well. It was crystal and clear like... like... like something crystal and clear. If there were no joy to be had, then why would there be two lanes headed there? Yeah. There you have it.
(Yeah Waaaaah! You have to biggerize this to understand.)

Is Lump fast asleep or rocking out with the band?, out
Ramblin' Ed

Great people talk about ideas, average people talk about things, and small people talk about wine

2009-11-29T10:21:00.013-05:00

Out west again. Heading west from Reno to find Truckee, CA. I had a friend on the USS Antietam that was from Truckee and I had always wanted to see it. I figured with it only 30 min. away, this was as good a chance as I was ever likely to see. Anyway, that really good enlisted friend of mine is now a really good O-5. Some of you know just how impressive a journey through the ranks that represents.

"Downtown" Truckee, CA. Of course, there could have been a more modern downtown if I had turned the other direction off I-80, but I will just pretend that this was it.

Cool looking gas station in Truckee. Of course, it was not a gas station. It was a ski clothing store.

Northern California traffic is less hectic than Southern California traffic. I am not complaining to say that most of the trip was spent in this start and not stop traffic.

OK, am I the only one who sees an AT&T commercial in this shot?

What a beautiful view. I am so glad that several folks suggested this drive. Enough folks said to do it that I figured that there must be something to it.

This does answer the question: Does a bear poop in the woods? Yes, but he poops pine cones. Or else....could this be the bad dude that ate Ewell Gibbons.

Dusk on the lake.

Getting dark now. While the scenery is still beautiful, my little camera is not the right equipment for properly capturing it. And since I went home over the Mt. Rosa Highway, complete with a view looking down over the far off lights of Reno twinkling and filling the valley, that is a shame. Still, this is a decent shot across Lake Tahoe.

Hmmmm... two cars in the garage. That can only mean that I'M HOME!

So, I was watching Glee. It is something I do and do not apologize for. Heck, I like dancing. I like singing. And I like cheerleaders. Hence, yes hence, I thoroughly enjoy this show that has plenty of all three. In this week's featured mash up (where they mix two songs together) they did not mash up songs, but rather mashed up choirs. It started off with a group of deaf singers singing John Lennon's "Imagine" with just a piano for accompaniment. Not to be crude, but you know that deaf people sound a little off when thy speak. Or sing. Then, one by one, the other choir joined them. It was beautiful, fully bringing to bear the spirit of inclusion that John wrote into the song. I was touched.

I watched the plane load up in Phoenix. There was a large-ish soccer mom and her husband, carrying a 4 or 5 year old on his back. The plane was loading slow, which is in no way remarkable. Nor is it unexpected. Large-ish mom kept hollering, "Let's go...c'mon, let's move!"Seriously. Everyone else just looked at her as if she were boorish. Her husband, meanwhile, kept hollering (yes, hollering ad I am NOT making this up) that "I can't stand like this forever." You know, as if the 5 year old would not be able to make the arduous journey down the aisle unassisted. All I could think was, "Well, apparently Tampa is down two idiots right now." Makes me proud to know that these Tampons...I mean Tampans, are my peeps. That's all I'm saying

This is just a place holder. There is more to write, but not today. As the philosopher once asked, "If not now, when?" "Sometime later," would have to be my simple reply.

Just because something doesn't do what you planned it to do doesn't mean it's useless.- Thomas A. Edison
If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one? - Abraham Lincoln
A good listener is usually thinking about something else. - Kin Hubbard
The only man who is really free is the one who can turn down an invitation to dinner without giving an excuse. - Jules Renard

Fallacies do not cease to be fallacies because they become fashions, out
Ramblin' Ed

If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you

2009-11-22T08:39:00.004-05:00

Since the last time you stopped by:

1. New pump in the well.

2. Moved the fence without employing professionals.

3. Watched most of Season 1 of True Blood

4. Watched the cops arrest a woman who assaulted my wife.

There. You are now all caught up.

Headed for Reno this afternoon. Coulda sent another guy in the office, but I thought a trip to Nevada would be nice. Cost myself the Bucs-Saints game. Dangit Man! When will you learn to do your due diligence before assigning yourself travel??

I ordered one of thos Roku machines to stream Netflix onto my TV. The movies are free with your Netflix subscription, which I have had for years. Sometimes I watch them on my computer, but my computer chair is not 2 hours worth of comfortable. So I figured, why not? The box is small, about the size of a paperback, and it's a one time charge. $80 for the box and I already have the subscription.

Got my hair cut at a place called Lebowski's Hair Salon or something like that. I drive by it every day and had always heard it was an experience. So Friday, since I had the day off, I went there for my haircut. It is themed (loosely, I would say) on the movie The Big Leibowski. Here's the link THE LINK . I was going to try to explain it, especially the hurricane shampoo, but the article does a better job.

The weird thing about the place was getting in. First off, you can give the guy outside the door $10 and he will wash and detail your car while you're inside. I declined. When I got to the door, a guy at a side window stopped me and asked for $25. I could see nothing but a bright red and chrome door. It was all very much reminicent of gaining strip club access. "This is a barber shop, right?" "Yessir. But it's not your father's barber shop." (He repeated that line about 6 times to me, so I guess he's pretty proud of it.) I looked at the door, and him standing there expectantly, like some kind of mellow bouncer. "And when I get in, I will get a haircut?" "Yessir." So I paid and went in. If you follow THIS LINK , watch it for a minute. It's animated and takes a couple of seconds to get going. It's not a complicated site though, in keeping with the Lebowski theme.

The article explains it better, but: I was led first to the bar, where I chose a Budweiser. Then I was given a shoeshine, which made me thankful I had not worn my customary flip flops. No, I didn't think they'd shine my feet. I mean, the shine was part of the price of admission, so I am glad I got it. Then a young lady in flip flops and fishnets let me over for my hurricane shampoo. Then a quick massage (from a chair, not a person) while I waited my turn at the raised barber dias. Then a lady dressed as, I'm not sure but I'm thinking meter maid or something, gave me a MAN-icure and then a decent haircut. Price of admission + tips was around $35. I wasn't sure about tipping, so I tipped everybody just in case. No one ever got disapproving looks for tipping too often. Well, except from their wife.

If you can find something everyone agrees on, it's wrong, out

Ramblin' Ed

A gentleman is a man who can play the accordion but doesn't

2009-11-15T08:24:00.007-05:00

Gotta love November and December in Florida. It is finally cool enough to be outside all day and it is still warm enough to be outside all day. So this is when the celebrations and festivals start to really get going.

Me and Brother Dave headed out to Vinoy Park in St. Petersburg for Ribfest. We had us some festival food and watched the pretty girls walk by. Had to watch fairly closely, as they were intermingled in with a whole lot of... well, to be as kind as possile, a whole lot of not pretty. It is a fair bet to say that a lot of trailer parks were emptied out yesterday.

We stayed for Gator Country, which is Molly Hatchett except for they somehow lost the rights to their name Molly Hatchett. Most of it was sounding good, but the boys are really starting show their age. One guitarist had to sit through most of the show and another got winded and had to be replaced. The lead singer lost it on the last song. At first I thought he'd forgotten the words, but they've been singing that song for 35 years, so it seems unlikely. So I think he strained his voice. Anyhoo, the last song was brutal and the applause for it a polite, "Hey, well anyway you tried."

We also stayed for Blue Oyster Cult, who put on a much tighter show. Those guys were still on the top of their game. I was wondering about how they ended up playing at a venue like Ribfest, but then I got to thinking about today, when Big Kenny (of Big and Rich) is playing, and they're still on the radio and touring as headliners. And the Zac Brown Band is there too, and they are about the hottest thing in country music right now that's not named Taylor Swift. Anyway, I'd say the festival was a success with good ribs, good (mostly) music, and temps around 78. We didn't stay for George Thorogood, but from the looks of the T-shirts around, he had a pretty sizeable following. Who'd have thunk it?

We stopped in at the Mellow Mushroom for a late dinner on the way home. I got pizza, Bro Dave got a calzone. And we had a chuckle that te restrooms are labeled as "mellow flushroom".

Real News Report--had me rolling:

Was going to take the wife up to the 35th Annual Homosassa Arts, Crafts, & Seafood Festival today. It's a $2 donation to get in, but I know she would have really enjoyed the fresh seafood. Unfortunately, I am having major problems with my well and have the guy coming out tomorrow to pull it and repair it. Let's hope that works, because all told, I am dropping a little over $2000 for that. It'll have to work actually, because if it doesn't, I'm looking at an additional $5000-$6000 for a new well. And I don't have that kind of money laying around right now.

So, as luck, and the natural orneriness of things, would have it, when I dropped several thousands of dollars to run a new chainlink fence, I a) enclosed the pump inside, making it necessary for me to remove the southern end of the fence and dig up the poles to allow the guy's truck to get into the yard. And b) I ran the eastern side of the fence, the long, long, all the way across the back yard portion of the fence directly over the pump. So it also has to come down. Therefore, c) we are not going to Homosassa, but rather staying here. I am sure the wife would rather have water long term, than shrimp one afternoon, but it is not something she may readily admit.

Instead, we will drive the Mustang to the flea market to mingle with the half of the trailer park dwellers that are not at Ribfest.

The thing I hate about an argument is that it always interrupts a discussion, out
Ramblin' Ed

The food and beer midway. This and the one opposite it framed the main stage.

We opted to sit back just a bit and watch it on the screen. It was a wise choice as up front we could have been crushed by boomers semi-rythmically swaying and blissfully singing along.

Niiiiiiice....

Honesty is a good thing, but it is not profitable to its possessor unless it is kept under control

2009-11-09T17:58:00.013-05:00

I could not get the whole robot guy in the picture, so I got his head. Any lower and I suppose all I would have gotten were his, well, nuts. And bolts. Tampa's downtown, in this area of Franklin Street anyway, is pretty dead, but there is quite a bit of art work out on the streets. I believe our Arts District is adjacent by a block or so and that is why.

From where this statue is I can see the old Tampa Theater. I remember a long, long time ago Dad took me there so we could watch a Monty Python film festival. Shoulda took a picture of it, but the link above gives you a 360 degree view of the inside. If you use your mouse, you can control the view. It is gorgeous, like the early twentieth century theaters tended to be. I also saw Dwight Yoakam in L.A. at the Wiltern Theater in Koreatown. Strangely, I cannot find any decent webpages to link to and show it. And it has hosted Dwight, Wilco, The Stones, Moby, and any number of national acts over the years.

This is robot man's son, I think. They were side by side. You can see Dad's arm in barely in frame on the right.
Taking pictures of the "Wall O' Bras" in Ybor City.

The "Wall O' Bras". Too bad I didn't get the whole thing. It was pretty impressive.

I was reading the viewer reviews for the movie I'd just rented off of Netflix. One bonehead in particular was offering his opinion that the director had not made any real effort at character development. And that the story was implausable. Fair enough. I mean, it is a movie about a beautiful female Japanese Samurai who, clad only in a fur bikini, battles zombies. Onechanbara trailer.

OK, it's out there. Yes, I would rent a movie about a beautiful female Japanese Samurai who, clad only in a fur bikini, battles zombies. The real question is: Who wouldn't?? I also rented Machine Girl. Sue me. [Note: Scroll to the bottom for the trailer. There you can see the flying guillotine and drill bra for yourself. And...you're welcome.]

I used to do a lot of 'drive by blogging", meaning I would just keep hitting the NEXT BLOG button up in the left top corner and see what I discovered. It was interesting, like typing two random, mismatched words (think: formica calculator) into google and/or google images to see where it would take you. So a couple of nights ago I did it again, for old time's sake. What a disappointment.

First off, it was about 70% non-English posts that came up. I guess all the English speakers are twittering and facebooking or something. Then about 20% of the time I got Russian porn. The name of the blogs kept changing, but it was the same pictures of the same women over and over, so I know it was broadcast over the blogsphere. You rarely got blindsided by porn on Blogger in the past, so I was a bit surprised. Although I guess I really shouldn't have been. The last 10% were either regular blogs or business advertisement/blogs. All in all, a very disappointing drive by.

I like an escalator because an escalator can never break, it can only become stairs. There would never be an escalator temporarily out of order sign, only an escalator temporarily stairs. Sorry for the convenience.
- Mitch Hedberg

Well flies like to fly 'cuz they don't like to stay
buzzin' in the ears of the chicken all day
chicken understand and he peck out the code
send a subsonic signal through the snot in
the middle of an elephant's long wet cold grey nose, out

Ramblin' Ed

Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.

2009-10-31T04:47:00.020-05:00

Shopping in Salem, MA. It was Haloween week in the Witch City. There were a lot of costumes out and about, both on the visitors and performers.

Hmmmmm. This one fits just right......MY PRETTIES!

Suddenly, I realized this was a witches and pirates store. Yo, Ho.

Real lady. I am prone to believe she is on stilts. Or a chair, as she did not move around other than to bend down. She was super cool. Having walked most of the strip with the small ninjas to the right, I kept trying to telepathically tell her that this was the perfect time to crush them like bothersome, squealing bugs with her stick. The message apparently garbled in the cool, fall air into something like "Hey, why don't you take a picture with them?" Dang statues working for tips.

This is not a picture of the wife beneath the city's fall foilage. I will not tell you what it is a picture of, only that if you concentrate you will get a sign. (It will only make sense when biggerized.)

Pretty impressive building for a museum. For some reason, behind us (and out of the picture) is carnival food.

A tavern near Quincy Market all decorated for fall. We were eating in another one, the oldest in the city (or region or country, I can't recall other than it was really old) looking out the window at this. As we left, to state the obvious with certitude, we took this picture.

[cue music -"We Gotta Get Out Of This Place"]

Despite life being a series of consternation, I see glimmers all around me. I take my victories where I can find them, and here are some that come off the top of my slightly misshapen head:

1. Both the dogs and the cats prefer dry food. Of course, the dogs really prefer anything on your plate or in your hand. I am just referring to food served purposefully on the floor.

2. Though the cold water enters the washing machine at a mere trickle, making a wash cycle especially long, I know how to fix it. While my laziness postpones said repair, I do know how to do it.

3. An old towel over the folded fresh laundry in the basket keeps the cat hair off your slacks and shirts and is still quite acceptable to Pepe and/or Yuki. Just kidding. It keeps most of the cat hair off.

4. The newspaper is coming before I leave for work again. Now I can read today's paper at lunch instead of yesterday's.

5. Despite a hectic work schedule and a propensity for sitting outside in the shade, I still manage to keep the DVR queue cleared. Oh sure, there's a couple of Family Guys & Obama's inauguration there, but all the new shows are seen.

6. The spoon, due to it's rather stiff brush guard, can be cast right up onto the lily pads. It can be walked across them, causing enough comotion to pique the interest of the big ones resting below. As it reaches the edge of the pad bank, it will gently drop off into the water, and swim back to you with a beautiful, "injured minnow" action.

7. An old, floating boat seat cushion actually made me use the words "vinyl piranahs". I did not say the words aloud, which I take as another small victory.

Took the wife on a business trip with me, mixing, as it were, business with displeasure. OK, that is not true at all. But such a great line like that needs to get used regardless.We actually had a great time.

I was in Peabody, MA as a student for a change, and not as the instructor. So my hours were reasonable and there were no pre- or post-class requirements. I had taken a room at the Homewood Suites, so it was more like an apartment than a hotel room. And it had a kitchenette. We were right beside a Sonic Drive-In, which we did not give a second thought. But here in Tampa, Sonics are a dime a dozen. I was informed tis one was special. Apparently, they had been getting the commercials for years, but the closest restaurant was in N.Y. state. (Kohl's did that here, too, but it was only 1 year and they had already purchased their sites.) Anyway, below is an excerpt from a local magazine.

After years of amusing and enticing commercials, Sonic has recently opened it’s first drive-in restaurant in Peabody. Since it’s grand opening in late August, wait time has been up to four hours and the traffic has stretched from Route 1 onto the highway. (http://nshoremag.com/blog/)

Revolution is no dinner party, unless your dinner party is full of blood and iron. Mao Tse-Tung

It's a lot like nature. You only have as many animals as the ecosystem can support and you only have as many friends as you can tolerate the bitching of. Randy K. Milholland

Sometimes the facts in my head get bored and decide to take a walk in my mouth. Frequently this is a bad thing. Scott Westerfeld

Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends? Abraham Lincoln

I did the Mash. I did the Monster Mash, out

Ramblin' Ed

------------- Wrote in Rhyme below--------------------

Think About It All 23 & 29 July 2006

It's Saturday evening but the July sun
Just keeps hanging around
There's thunder off in the distance some
But no rain hitting the ground
Dark clouds rolling in from the south
Don't always turn to rain
Just like you swore til death we part
But that didn't mean a thing

So if you're thinking of calling me up
Making my telephone ring
If you're thinking of calling my bluff
Remember about the rain
How it didn't fall
Think about it all

I was a man. You were a woman
And we had things to do
We tossed our dreams all in together
Tried to make 'em true
You weren't willing to share no more
Than you were willing to try
We split up over something stupid
It wasn't a pretty goodbye

If you're thinking of pointing your finger
And putting the blame on me
If you're thinking of making excuses
For all your wicked deeds
Both big and small
Yeah, think about them all

You lit your Lucky from a dying candle
On the table by your chair
Said, "They say these things'll kill you dead
But sometimes I just don't care
Some days the weight's too heavy
Some days are just too tough
Some days the Devil gets me good
Sometimes I'm just fucked up"

I'm sorry, Darlin', that's the way of the world
Things become confused
You finally get a handle on it
And the handle comes unglued
You either walk or crawl
Think about it all

Take a moment, Honey, try and
Pull your thoughts up tight
Kick your shoes off by the door
Got no place to be tonight
I'll pour two fingers bourbon
Hell, I'll pour two fingers more
I'll pour all night, won't be the first time
I've slept on the floor

If it comes up, we'll talk about
Your lying and running around
Back then it used to tear me up
But it's nothing to me now
When the rain don't fall
Think about it all

All these things that happen, happen
I don't try to make much sense
Our lives get told the way they go
Not some future perfect tense
I've got no clue where it's going
This here "story of my life"
If you want to add a chapter, girl
Just pick up your pen and write

Yeah, I used to give a rat's ass
But the rat was not amused
And what we had in commom was
We both kept getting used
Every time you called
Think about it all

It's Saturday evening but the July sun
Just keeps hanging around

Ed
Brandon Blvd.

There is no human problem which could not be solved if people would simply do as I advise

2009-10-16T07:30:00.006-05:00

Been a busy couple of weeks. Was going to say rough, but no, not really. There was a lot of "run about. Scream and shout," but that was pretty much the extent of it.

Am headed up to Boston this weekend, for a week. The temps here are projected to be in the mid to upper 70s for a while. It has been in the high 80s and low 90s up til now, so the relief is welcome, but I will believe it when I actually see it.

The Coal Miner's Daughter popped up in a chat this morning and said that it had snowed in Boston. And there I was, all proud of myself for thinking ahead and telling the wife "it will probably be a little cool up there, so pack a light jacket." Well, anyway, forewarned is foreparka packed.

I had to laugh at the wife, for a decidedly unfunny situation. Unfunny for her, anyway. At least a little humorous for me, though I cannot ever say that aloud at home. The story:

(Whrrrrrrrrrr-a-whrrrr-a-whrrrrrrr--the sound of the story fast forwarding to the good part) She had a doctor's appointment that came with the requirement for an enema. The first time I had to explain that to her, which she took with a certian stoic grace, and after she went to the appointment, she was told "we sent you the wrong requirements, so you have to come back to do it again." "Oh," she said, "I did not need to do that then?" "No, the enema requirement was correct. But we should have had you drink 64 oz of water instead of 32." Prior to the second appointment we went to the drug store. We bought allergy medicine and then, as we are prone to do, saw something shiny and got distracted. As we were driving home she pops to attention, a little big eyed, and announces, "Hey! We forgot my enemy!" How could I not laugh?

OK, we don't recount reading that little story next time we meet her, OK? Thanks.

We broke out 2 pieces of plywood and a circular saw. In a little over 4 hours, with a hammer and a suprisingly large number of bent nails later, we had constructed....taa daa...a , um, box. Not really a special box, but a box nonetheless. Hey, manly though we may be, we are not that good with our hands. Therefore we took great pride in our accomplishment. To the point of not even noticing...ok, not even caring....that we had not cut a single edge straight. We feel the gaps add a certian rustic charm to the project.

I plugged my mp3 player that I bought in Taiwan into the USB port of my car. I was thinking to play all of the tunes on it through the car system. I mean, I wear that thing all day a t work and I still don"t think I"ve been through the play list a complete time yet. So I was thinking it would make a great, commercial free soundtrack.

What I should have been thinking was that plugging it into the car's USB would wipe the whole drive, since that's what it did. Took the playlist, the program, the whole shebang right off of it. I messed around and messed around trying to reset the device, but ended up having to go onto the company's website where I lucked into a free download of the firmware Well, technically it was a firmware "upgrade", but I surmised, correctly, it was just going to overwrite with a new program. Which is what I needed. I spent a couple of hours loading 4 gb of music. There is another 2.5 gb to load, but I can do that from the road. So I will.

Dogs are washed, bags are packed. We'll be in New England this time tomorrow. All I have to say about that is: Go Saints! Beat the Giants!

Stupidity is a condition. Ignorance is a choice, out

Ramblin' Ed

------------ 3 August, 1984----Balboa Park----San Diego, CA--------

A Promise Forgotten With Time

I've never had the feeling

Life was anything but real

There's been a couple times I've found it strange

I've been around a little bit

Done some things I won't admit

Sometimes I make my own rules to the game

How can I pass judgement on you?

Girl, I barely even know you

I love your smile, though. That's enough for me

It hurt me so to say goodbye

But ya had to get on with your life

I guess that's just the way its gotta be

Yeah, you'll go one direction, girl

and I'll go one direction

It might be that our paths will cross again

And if it never comes to be

well hell, we've got some memories

Sometimes that's even better anyway

Seems memories grow fonder

as the days apart grow longer

miles, they seperate us like a long, black, dusty wall

them rememberences, like pictures

that we hang up in the kitchen

to remind us someone's out there after all

I don't explain the things I do

Love's a trap for me and you

so often it's a word I seldom use

My heart, much like a spinning wheel

will break sometimes, but always feels

twisted all around when I'm with you

Just say I'll keep your photograph

then let the subject drop like that

I don't feel much like trying to explain

Perhaps I'll disappear a while

perhaps now and again you'll smile

and think about ol' "What's-his-name" again

When you think about me, hope you call me friend

Balboa Park

Life is a tough proposition and the first hundred years are the hardest

2009-09-28T16:44:00.007-05:00

The Saints are 3-0. But every Sunday I get the Tampa Bay Suckaneers game. Regardless of if it is the home team or not, when everybody knows the game is gonna be a lopsided blowout, another same conference team's game should be shown. Ergo, if the Bucs will suck, show the Saints. Problem solved, boredom averted. Elect me King and it will be so.

I have found that putting a spoonful of extra crunchy peanut butter on a marshmallow is quite tasty. I have also found that about 12 is my limit. No, I'm just kidding. There is no limit on genuine goodness.

I would make a pretty good king. I am benevolent, and it would be best for you to think before you say otherwise. And if you elect me king, I will immediately do away with elections, so you won't have the bother of having to re-elect me or anything. My re-election would be like congressional raises, automatic unless I say otherwise. You have better things to worry about, no?

Also, as a king, I could just decree something and it would be so. My minions would see to that. And while the idea of minions can seem at first glance to be problematic, having them to enforce my decrees would certianly free me up for additional deep pondering and wise decreeing. As of this moment, I am not sure how much decreeing and deciding there is to do, but I think it might be considerable.

It is not necessary to fear me. I have no interest in most aspects of your life. Your morality, or lack thereof, is of no concern to me. You can settle up with your maker when the game is over. But unless your morality, or lack thereof, is played out in my yard, annoying me and scaring the chickens, I could really care less.

Alright, it's an abort on the king theme. I was getting pretentious and political. Not so much the part written, though it was going there, but the part I just deleted. No need for all that. Wouldn't be prudent. But still, I am no less in favor of having minions.

Was at the dentist yesterday. He was novocaining me up. All was well. I do not fear dentists. In fact, surprisingly, I find them to be the best shot givers there are. I mean once I learned to just shut my eyes BEFORE looking at how gosh-darned big the needle was that they use. So there I was, relaxed, lying there all blissful and unshaven, and that silly son-of-a-gun hit a nerve. No, he didn't mention my personal hygiene or decidedly spotty record on major life decisions. Rather, ol' gorilla fist actually stuck the needle into a nerve.

But I did not know it at first. Again, I was lying there all blissful and unshaven when BAM!, it felt like I was electrocuted by some Flash Gordon ray gun, starting on the left and racing across the lower half of my face. I did a full body jump, easily 2 inches straight up. The facial electrocution sensation was followwed by a burning, as if everything below my nose had been lit on fire for asking a white girl out. Yowser, that caught me off guard.

Apparently, a spontaneous spasm that jolts you straight out of your reclined dental chair triggers some sort of understatement reaction in the practioners of the teethy arts. "Did I get ya?", Dr. Feelgood inquired. Honestly, it didn't really hurt, something I figured out in retrospect. But it was so fast and unexpected, and had never happened before, that I saw my life literally flash before me, reminding me that I've got some work to do on that.

What a great name for a town: Grand Detour, Ill. It is where the blacksmith who eventually brought us John Deere lived. But for me, it conjurs up the dude on patches and t-shirts in the '70s, the one with the one long leg who was known for captions saying either "Keep on Trucking" or "Just Passing Thru". And Grand Detour's in Ogle County. How cool is that? "Hey, you! Stop seeing at my bobs!"

OK, let's get us out of here with some random quotes I've been collecting:

I'm not concerned about all hell breaking loose, but that a PART of hell will break loose... it'll be much harder to detect. - George Carlin

Freedom is just Chaos, with better lighting. - Alan Dean Foster

Her virtue was that she said what she thought, her vice that what she thought didn't amount to much. - Peter Ustinov

The two most common elements in the universe are Hydrogen and stupidity. - Harlan Ellison

I used to think that the brain was the most wonderful organ in my body. Then I realized who was telling me this. - Emo Phillips

Man is ready to die for an idea, provided that idea is not quite clear to him. - Paul Eldridge

First things first, but not necessarily in that order, out

Ramblin Ed

The Dutchman

Who commands The Dutchman to his fate?

Never loving. Never dying.

Cursed to always wait

and sail the oceans

Captian over ghosly crew

even as the legend grew around him

Songs are sung and stories told

Rum gets passed around

the tales get taller as the nights go on

"You'd best beware, " the old salts warn,

"he's got no soul. Was never born.

When The Dutchman laughs, ol' Davey Jones

will gladly take your bones."

And we are sailing out tomorrow

in our mighty wooden vessels

with masts as big as trees

and with our sails as large as tents.

And a wild look all about us

that can only be described

as that of boys fast turning into men

Wild ports flowing free with drugs

and whores, and bars, and dives

Home becomes this memory

so hard to keep alive

There's cargo bought. And cargo sold.

There's riches won and lost.

Treasures are so hard to hold

and come at such a cost

Young seamen, listen to me

Lest you never see your home

with the tradewinds at our backs now

seems the Captian yearns to roam

we've been ninety days a'crossing

but the lookout's sighted land

We'll pull into port tomorrow

and I think you understand

There'll be wine and there'll be whiskey

merriment and roguish songs

Soft eyed girls to bring the pleasures

done without so long

There will be candles burned here all night long

good times for one and all

and hell to pay, as groggily

we greet the morning's dawn

Still I wonder,

who commands The Dutchman?

What curses him to circumvent

the oceans endlessly?

They're questions I keep tucked away

in corners of my mind

Hidden there

and yet they bother me

Who commands The Dutchman to his fate?
Never loving. Never dying.
Cursed to always wait
and sail the oceans

Watchman o'er a watery grave

firey eyes, your soul enslaves

Burning like another wreck

upon the raging main

Songs are sung and stories told
Rum gets passed around
the tales get taller as the nights go on
"You'd best beware, " the old salts warn,
"he's got no soul. Was never born.
When The Dutchman laughs, ol' Davey Jones
will gladly take your bones."

At sea (circa 1981, 1982, or 1983)

Ramblin' Ed

If this was easy it wouldn't be so hard

2009-09-26T08:05:00.010-05:00

A Taoyaun corner.

She was such a sweetheart. And a lot better looking than me. But I had been out walking all afternoon in the 200% humidity. Yeah, that's why.

I have never liked these dang things. One should not encounter a confusing #2. Seriously, they shouldn't.

Man, the weeks just kind of fly on by, don't they. At least I take some comfort in the knowledge that when we started doing this we were all posting every day. Now it is weekly, bi-weekly, or "whenever". At least a lot of times I've got pictures.

Went and spent my week in Taiwan. I am not usually bored in Asia, but I was. Very. I even went in to the big city three times. I have been to Quingdao, China and to Hong Kong (China) and have had a ball. Repeatedly. Hong Kong is, in fact, one of my favorite destinations. So I figured Taiwan (China) would be much the same. And had I been a 20 year old woman in search of shoes, miniskirts, make-up, or hot tea, I'd have been in heaven. Alas, I was not. The most fun I had there was the adventure surrounding using a combination rail/light rail to get from downtown Taipei back to my hotel in Taoyaun, about 20-25 miles away. It was fun because I got totally confused in the multi-story Taipei Main Station. And I thought Yokohama Station in Japan was an overachiever....

So I'm in a town where I'm having trouble even finding a place to stop in and have a beer, and this is as good a place as any to point out that the weather was very much like September in Florida, which is to say ninety degrees plus and humid, when out of my taxi window I see what appears to be... hooker in a box. Right there on the street. I was like, Hmmmmm?

So after seeing the one girl in a miniskirt, or less, on a stool, in a tiny elevated glass enclosure, then I started seeing them all over. It really made me wonder, based on the fact this was not turning out to be a very fun city, why this would be allowed. So I asked Joseph, a Chinese guy I had been hitting the city with. Turns out that they were Betel Nut Girls. If you look at the link you will find an explanation of Betel Nut Girls and a few photos. Then you will understand my initial confusion.

The economy keeps taking out my peeps. Just had another friend lose his job as the big electrical contractor he works, errrr...worked for just filed for bankruptcy. And we have 20 or so new hires coming through my classes and are spending week after next interviewing for a new trainer in my office. I'd love to be throwing some of this work at my friends, but you gotta have the quals, right?

Going to be busy at work for a few weeks because of the new hires. Then I am headed up to Peabody, MA for a week long school at Analogic, or as I call them, Anal Logic, because it seems like their collective head is, well, you know. I used some of my many, many airline miles and got the wife a first class ticket to go up there with me. I think she will be bored during the day, stuck on the outskirts of Woburn, MA without a car. But I am hoping to have dinner with The Coal Miner's Daughter and her boy Nick (Sorry, but I was thinking of "Mr. Peabody and his boy Sherman") one night, and with my former boss on another. Then I will take her into Boston proper a couple of times and show her around. Will try to talk her into riding the T with me because when you get into some of these places, parking is a bee-yatch!

The day after tomorrow is the third day of the rest of your life, out

Ramblin' Ed

--------------- More Old Stuff (from 1978 this time)--------------

Star Truck (Blindly going where no man has gone before)

Welcome to my spaceship
I'm the Captain (I implied)
Now fasten up your safety belts
the jets have been applied
feel the gravity start shrinking
pretty soon it will be gone
on the S.S. Ellis Dee
(Where we call home)

All computers have been programmed
and their programmers as well
It seems the last immortal robot
guards a gateway into hell
And if we can put his lights out
we can close that gaping hole
and mankind can live forever
if not more

So just close your eyes my passengers
and you will understand
what this journey is about
for I'm a telepathic man
with less effort
than it takes a star to sigh
the S.S. Ellis Dee
cuts through the sky

Captain, does the sky seem strange?
Asked the woman from Biscayne
No, dear, I replied
I think it's just the window pane
makes the sun seem like it's shifting
to the right
exposing then
this disconcerting light

But now silence must be stringently maintained
or we may crash
I must guide us through this vortex field
one that's full of cosmic trash
and a Marxist spy eye
way up in the sky
I know it's there
But I can't tell you why

Just cling on to this enterprise
think of me as Kirk
I have the conn. I'm in command
in my pajama shirt
Mr Spock, my body guard,
survives on Metimucil
and will guide us through this wonderland
with dialated pupils

We'll be docking in the morning
to a doughnut spinning wild
to an orbiting space station
thruster rockets belching fire
we'll refuel and stay til evening
at which time we must take leave
there's a bag, should you have problems,
on the back of every seat

Then we're off into the galaxy
where unknown dangers dwell
to find the last immortal robot
and his gateway into hell
yes, your ticket price will cover
all of this and so much more
as we grapple with this anti-Christ
and slam shut that massive door

If we survive the battle
then a hero welcome's ours
in the streets of New York City
door to door and house to house
for mankind we meet this challenge
not for you, and not for me
but it will all be worth it
when they meet on bended knee
when they turn their eyes towards heaven
And shout out, "Long live Ellis Dee!"

Black Coffee Day

Well I lost my girl to a rainbow messiah
charismatic for sure, but a compulsive liar
yeah, that silver tounged deacon has stole her away
there won't be no sunshine today

I woke up this morning to a sky rolling blue
a thunderclap welcome, and a free shower too
tried to reach a conclusion but my arms were too short
just another bleeding heart

A choir of angels led a ballad that rambled
on that new FM show brought by Proctor & Gamble
released a new single EP for a demo
sped off in a long, black limo

Yeah, I lost my girl to a rainbow messiah
holy roller fanatic with a prayer gun for hire
a bible for strength, a knife quick and subtle
a deaf ear for any rebuttal

I woke up this morning to a black coffee day
to find that my girl had been stolen away
by that rainbow messiah. Oh yes, how it rained
all over my little parade

I left all my love when I left Tallahassee
took a slow train to somewhere all alone in the last seat
since I don't thump the good book, I'll just cut my losses
and leave it bleed slowly up there on a cross

Let it die slowly, nailed up on that cross.

I look to the future because that's where I'm going to spend the rest of my life

2009-09-04T07:26:00.004-05:00

It is a time to be. A time to be hopeful. To be angry. To be wishful. To be beat down. A time to be angry or a time to be concillatory. Whatever. It is a time. For me, it is a time to be done with shrillness and demagogery. But, to quote Kimmy, "Babe, that ain't on the menu."

I read this yesterday - To be positive: To be mistaken at the top of one's voice.

I have worked. Hard. I am exhausted. Exhausted in the good way. In the way you pick up what you've done. Hold it in your hand and show it to the world. I am proud of what I put together for the airport in Taipei. Proud of my proposal to train screeners all across Canada. Proud that I had an impossible deadline and met it. Didn't beat it as I had hoped, but like I said, it was an impossible deadline. So meeting it provided the same professional rewards. Now I sit in my pajamas, crowing about it. Kinda crass and unhumble of me.

I was watching "I'm Not There" this morning. It was about Bob Dylan but in the movie he had a different name. And was, at a point, played by a girl. And I felt all trippy and 1960's inside. Which is not an altogether bad way to start the morning. He played with words.

I will be in Taipei for a week. I fly out on September 11th. Third time since 2001 that I have done that. Each time I do, I think about the attacks. Then I buckle in and doze off. That's how I fly. Cinched in and drooling.

Anyway, I will be there for a week. Unless I'm not. It was a certitude, with contacts forged, reservations made, schedules laid out. And then it wasn't. Some form with a government acronym for a name may monkey wrench it. Or might not. That's the way it is. You may call me Gumby.

Mowed the grass yesterday. It's the only time I get left alone. And then only because I can't hear the phone or feel it vibrate. The Snapper mower rides a little rough. I mowed for an hour yesterday and when I finished there were 4 missed calls and 2 new emails. I looked around and ascertained that the world had not ended, so I pretended I did not see them. I reholstered the offending Blackberry and reached for the string trimmer.

Tomorrow I will go fishing. At a good quiet place with a good quiet friend. Sunday and Monday I am taking wife to Jacksonville. We have a friend from Japan who has moved there and we want to see them again. Then, on the way home, will stop by St. Augustine. The wife will like that. Figure to take I-4 & I-95 up there and wander home on the backroads.

Been playing with words.

The truth? You can't hear the truth over your lawnmower, man. Out.

Ramblin' Ed

-------------------------------------------------------------

Unfallen 4 Sept, 2009

You’ve got to leave me out of all the things we’ve done
You took me go then always leave me hanging
We slipped down any path we knew was way too long
Always stopped halfway from the beginning

We wanted once to be what I was always after
But I was never sure that’s what we needed
You were always on the side of glass half full, and laughter
But that’s alright; it stops the heart from bleeding

There’s all the seeds been sown
There lay yours. And mine.
The edges touch, but I don’t see them blending
You’ve got to live your own
You live in your own time
‘Cause we never know just how the past is ending

I got you on the phone from punching numbers random
We talked for minutes, we had much to listen
And random is as random does, and there it lays its pattern
Brushed out in tears unfallen and unglistening

If I could bring to you the things I think are fair
If I could bring you sunshine from the shadows
Then I would be the one you laid your head upon his shoulder
No different from so many other fellows

There’s all the dreams been blown
There lay yours. And mine
The edges overlap. They are unbending
You’ve got to live your own
You live in your own time
‘Cause we never know just how the past is ending

We slipped down any path we knew was way too long
Always stopped halfway from the beginning
You were always on the side of glass half full, and laughter
But that’s alright; it stops the heart from bleeding

Ed
Brandon

I was walking down the street wearing glasses when the prescription ran out

2009-08-21T04:47:00.008-05:00

This is what a typical maintenance class of mine looks like. That is my machine, and these guys will work in airports maintaing them. That is the training area of our factory.

Every time I called the Turks into the lab, I would stick my head in the door and shout, "Team Istanbul, you're up." I also gave the middle Murat his nickname, Murat the Elder.

Interesting sign. It was in Covington, KY in a trendy little area right along the river. You were sitting in quaint old pubs, in quaint old buildings looking across the river at the giant, shiny buildings of Cincinnati.

Am I the only one who immediately thinks "gates of hell" when they see this? Satan will see you now, please remove your shoes and and empty your pockets.

I absolutely LOVED the town's water tower. I mean seriously, how can you not?

I just can't help but think that the Commonwealth's officials did not think it through when naming this state park. State park in 20 miles, snickering for a good 12 of them.

Been in Northern Kentucky all week and have thoroughly enjoyed it. First of all, it takes about 2 1/2 minutes to get on some of the prettiest backroads I have cruised in a long time. I hopped on US 127 South here in Florence Y'all and just meandered along, seeing where it might take me. Well, it didn't take me through many towns, but with the windows down and the roads free of traffic, I somehow found myself in Frankfort.

In Frankfort, I discovered I was on The Kentucky Bourbon Trail. I assume it meanders along through several different cities, as I know the distilleries are in numerous different KY towns.But in the 2 or 3 mile stretch I was on, I was able to see the Buffalo Trace Distillery and Four Roses Distillery. Buffalo Trace was a beautiful old building right on the river.

Everybody here has been ready to shoot the breeze and I have had some great, lazy afternoon conversations. Sure keeps life interesting. I was in a place yesterday, and when I walked in, everybody was glued to the large plate glass window, staring out at the road I had just turned in from. A chicken had crossed the road. Then hung out at the bus stop. And was now in a bank parking lot with a man trying to catch it. He finally gave up, sat and watched over the chicken until reinforcements arrived. First a man showed up in a Cadillac, got out, and guarded the chicken from the other side of the parking lot. Then a lady drove up in another expensive car, got out, stomped over to said semi-free range chicken and just snatched it up. She got back in her car with it and drove off.

The boys in the joint sat and talked about the chicken and it's adventure for the rest of the 45 minutes or so that I was there.

I have enjoyed some of my favorite foods. That I had forgotten were some of my favorite foods. I have had fried bologna with applesauce on it and I have had fresh blackberries. Mom used to make me fried bologna when I was a kid. I always liked how it turned into a little meat cup when fried. Then I would fill that cup with applesauce. Mmmmm. Good stuff.

Went to a place called Skyline Chili because it was one of those local flavor things, and if you travel, you should always try as many of the local things as you happen to run across. I had a coney in a steamed bun, covered in chili and piled high (I mean REALLY high) with grated cheese. I had spaghetti, covered in chili and piled high (I mean REALLY high) with grated cheese. I had fries, covered in chili and piled high (I mean REALLY high) with grated cheese. As a firm believer that anything is made better by the addition of cheese, I found myself in the unfamiliar position of actually removing some from my meal. There was that much. I will probably be stopped up for a week, but when I finally do go again, I half expect it to come out covered in chili and piled high (I mean REALLY high) with grated cheese.

Got my suitcase packed. Am headed home directly from class and it is time to go down for breakfast, turn in the rental car, and think about heading in to work.

Remember, an opinion should be the result of thought, not a substitute for it. Out.

Ramblin' Ed

'Tis an ill wind that blows no minds

2009-08-16T18:26:00.006-05:00

Happy Birthday, Woodstock. Yay, whirled peas.

Here I sit, and none too happy about it by the way, in Charlotte's Douglas International Airport. Which I remember from a long time ago when it was Douglas Regional Airport. I am waiting for a 9:25 PM flight to Dayton, Ohio, which is actually 75 miles from Cincinnati, where I am really going... and should have arrived at already. Weather...always weather! I am going to be one tired puppy when I get to work tomorrow. A tired puppy who is possibly still wearing his travelling clothes. Arrrgh!

Anyway, I have been busting butt trying to get some training written for a custom install in Taiwan. In fact, I was messing with it in the Tampa Airport for almost 2 hours. I assume it is for Taipei, but that's mostly because I don't know of any other cities there. I could possibly end up in the sticks somewhere, and all the money I have been squirreling away for a hot time in the big city may actually end up no place more special than a noodle shop. We'll see. Anyway, I think around about the 2nd week in September I well be headed over there for 2 weeks. Yee-Haw...back in Asia for a while.

I have been drinking tea today, for some unexplainable reason. Hot tea, no less. Something called Rasberry Spark, which tastes like hot Kool-Ade. It is all full of ginko bilboa and ginsing. Not sure what that means, whether it is supposed to make me healthy or horny. Either, I suppose, would be an improvement on the day. Ginko bilboa baggins.

Watched Clint Eastwood's Gran Torino last night. Awesome flick. He makes a good grumpy dude, anyway. Plus he had him a bit of a violent streak. Win-Win.

The best argument against democracy is a five minute conversation with the average voter.
Sir Winston Churchill (1874 - 1965)

All of my life I have used lawnmowers. If you live, or have ever lived, in the south you know, this is a true statement. You have a lot of chances to use them. No, we ain't got some wimpy 2-4 month lawn growing season. Ours goes 8 or 9 months easy, and if you skip a week you need a machete to beat the jungle back enough to get your mower in. So my question is this. WHAT'S HAPPENING? I cannot keep either of my mowers going.

I am useless with small engines. Or actually, I am just pretty useless with my hands in general. I joke that my toolbox contains a yellow pages and a mastercard. But still, all of my life I have kept a mower gassed up and full of oil. And it has always paid me back by cranking when I yanked the starter cord. A beautiful, healthy, totally symbiotic relationship. But here lately, every other, or every third mowing takes place after I take it across the street for small engine maintenance. Seriously, it spends almost as much time stripped down and soaking in carberateur cleaner (yes, I know, but I couldn't figure out how to spell carberateur) as it does actually mowing. So, it's not that I am suddenly taking less care of them. In fact, it is not possible for me to take less care of them.

All I can figure is it is one of two things, or possibly a combo of both. It is either that mower engines are now manufactured with exceedingly cheap ass components nowadays, or the ethenol in the gas is playing hell with the gas getting function. Yep.

Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere, out

Ramblin' Ed

You must not think me necessarily foolish because I am facetious, nor will I consider you necessarily wise because you are grave

2009-08-05T11:40:00.011-05:00

Got a chance to get out of Houston City Limits and on out a ways into east Texas. I lived in the Shreveport area for a while, in an area known as the Ark-La-Tex. You can figure that out. Anyway, I know you have heard of Texarkana, so there you go.

Driving out through east Texas reminded me so much of Louisiana. It was baking hot and dripping humidity. And you could just feel the character of the place. The poverty, the surliness, the wary eyed look that would eventually break into genuine hospitality. If you turn out to be "all right". I could feel it. And it felt right again.

What does one listen to as a soundtrack for a hot, languid road trip through their not quite forgotten past? I started out with Potato Hole (Yep, I bought it), but it was more upbeat and funky than the drive required. Since I only have 2 CDs with me, I chose the other one. The git down, dirty, gritty....Drive By Truckers. Live from Austin City Limits CD. 3 Dimes Down. Zip City. Puttin' People on the Moon. The hope & despair of The Living Bubba. Yeah, there's the groove.
I could live in Texas.
Anybody that finds this picture beautiful, is a kindred spirit of mine. I love the past. I cherish it. Many times before I have voiced that sentiment. I am a Southerner through and through. I believe that our culture has brought us up to be that way. Not to live in the past, though many of my brothers and sisters seem to have understood it that way, but to make where we have been an intergral part of where we are going. You don't have to abandon your past to greet your future.

Work has been crazy dysfunctional at the airport, but having every third day off has made for some pleasant afternoons. Today is another of them.

It's so hard to communicate with insects. Or in this case, I guess, arachnids. Although, I go back to the original, because it really is hard to communicate with either. I was brushing my teeth a second ago (yes, I have come back to edit this) and there was a tiny spider on my shoulder. Tiny, but a spider nonetheless, so I didn't really want him there for long. Or at all.

I went to flick him away, but he moved...again and again. I was speakling all calm and soothing like about how we both win if he moves along. I would be spiderless and he would be unsquished. So yeah, I thought that was mighty sporting of me. But he kept bugging out. ( Heh heh heh....bugging out. Get it? ) Eventually, cooler heads prevailed, mine, and he got his butt in gear. Literally. He did that thing that spiders do where they lay out this escape thread out of their rear end and kinda parachute down and to safety. Good enough. Like I said, I was going for the win-win scenario anyway.

I am headed to Cincinnatti week after next. At least that is what the airport is called. My itinerary shows both the Airport Hilton (3 mi. from airport) and Hertz as having Kentucky addresses. My wife sometimes worries that I have a girlfriend on the road. As if! There's not really a female fan base for fat, sarcastic, middle aged guys. That I have found, anyway. Besides, she really need not worry about me fooling around in an area that saw fit to elect Jerry Springer mayor. It's like I told her, how could I fool around ?... I don't have a cousin up there. Pa dump dump!

There are 2 other things I keep meaning to tell you. When I am out and about I remember, when I sit down here I forget. It is pissing me off.

One thing was was about how there was a fender bender on FM 1960. 2 cars, nothing spectacular. What threw me for a loop was that lined up behind each wrecked car (so facing both inbound and outbound from my perspective driving up) was a line of about 8-10 wreckers...behind each vehicle.... waiting patiently for the constable to finish. I am driving along and I see 16 or 20 wreckers and am expecting to see a masacree. A veritible bloodbath. Instead, I get a Nissan and a Malibu with dented fenders.

Still can't remember the other thing. But I am shutting down the computer and heading out now, so it should come back to me soon. Dang CRS!!!

My problem pretty much lies in reconciling my gross habits with my net income, out
Ramblin' Ed

------------------------------

Boy, I sure screwed the meter up on this one. Apologies for that. But I like the story. And besides, nothing says you can't just skip it. That's why I put 'em at the bottom now, for your ease of skippage.

You Know Me, And You Know I (Just Ain't That Likely To)

I've been thinking 'bout you
and all those things that were left unsaid
when we said too much

There were a lot of things
that were in the way,
but I guess one wasn't trust

You were thinking I was something
you believed to be
was something more exciting than it was

You were thinking I had something
gonna set you free
Though I guess a guy like me, he never does

I was a man of many tales,
I was a man of many journeys
I was a man who lived in versions of the truth

I put those colors in my stories
'cause it seemed when they were painted
they always meant a whole lot more to you

That's the kind of thing I do

I'd like to say I'm sorry
when it comes to what we've done
To maybe hear your side of things
if you think there might be one

They always say to walk a mile
in someone else's shoes
But you know me, and you know I
just ain't that likely to

All the drinking I've done in your memory
is all the drinking I've done
it ain't made us seem no clearer
it ain't tied off what's undone

It ain't made me understand a thing
there's so much I don't know
like why you let me stay so long
like why you let me go

I'd like to say I'm sorry
when it comes to what we've done
To maybe hear your point of view
if you feel like having one

They say you ought to walk a mile
in someone else's shoes
But you know me, and you know I
ain't really likely to

Sometimes I think you know just why
sometimes I can't sit still
But you don't give me nothing
And I know you never will

Been thinking I should find somewhere
to stay and settle down
to try ignoring all the voices
telling me to blow this town

Hey, I've been thinking 'bout you
and all those things that were left unsaid
when we said too much

there were so many things
that we got all wrong
we got so in out of love

And I'd like to say I'm sorry
when it comes to what we've done
To maybe hear your side of things
if you think there might be one

They always say to walk a mile
in someone else's shoes
But you know me, and you know I
just ain't that likely to

Ed
Houston, TX
2 Aug 2009

Confusion is always the most honest response (Or, Amazing Tales from the Eyebrow of the Storm)

2009-07-25T13:14:00.016-05:00

St. Pete as viewed from the pier.

Lake Ontario shoreline.

Out in the sticks, NE of Kingston, Ontario

Same sticks, different building

The Busker Festival outside my hotel

The busker festival was, if you know what "busker" means was a celebration of street performers. Buskers perform for tips, and that was the case here. There was music, acrobatics, magic, and children's shows. The ambiance was pretty cool, but the pictures did not capture that so well. So I saved myself the server space of posting mediocre pics.

Just outside of Kingston, I stopped at a place called Boston Pizza. Mainly it was the first thing I had run across in a while. And I also knew that buying a pizza for lunch usually took care of dinner later. Cold pizza, mmmmmm.

They had pretty much just specialty pizzas and I ended up with a perogie pizza. Now, if you don't know what a perogie is you're thinking, "Ewww...what's a perogie? Why would you put it on a pizza? Sounds like some kind of building material." But if you do know what a perogie is, then you are thinking, "Ewwww! What on earth possessed them to put that on a pizza??" But actually, it was quite tasty. It did, however, raise the question of whether the city of Boston knows that weird specialty pizzas are being hawked in Canada under their name and, more importantly, do they care?

Everybody lies, but it doesn't matter because nobody listens

While I was at the prison working, there was a problem. The prisoners did not want to return to their cells. They were asked nicely and then asked nicely again. Still no dice. Since I did not really understand what was going on, I will give you the condensed, color coded version of what I saw.

Inmates: We will not go in.

Prison: Please?

No!

Pretty please?

No!

Send your union rep to see the warden. (No, really...the prisoners are represented)

Warden: They will have to be punished

Union guy: They prefer not to be. They will not return to their cells if they will be punished for their insubordination.

But they must be punished

They don"t want to be.

How about we cut the punishment in half. Would that do it?

I will go run it past the prisoners. I think I can sell it that way

Me, Ed Abernathy: What the hell did I just witness?!!?

I have been working. That's a fact. That's my excuse. Turks. Americans. Japanese. You bring 'em and I'll teach 'em. Gearing up for 12 - 14 days in Houston. Yee-haw! Well, at least I won't get there in the summer just to find out I should have brung a jacket (are you listening Massachusetts and Ontario?). It will be sweltering, same as here.

Yeah, that is a guy with a TV on his head. He was doing techno music with a couple of other guys. Or trip hop. Or whatthehellever music. Not up on my labels. Now, he might look like a loser, but let me assure you, they were not all that good either.

Today is my anniversary. Eight years. Or nine. I have the date in my Blackberry and could do the math from there. Suffice to say, it's been a while. My first marriage lasted 10 years, but since this one does not involve a redneck redhead with a taste for crack cocaine, it might go longer. I don't know whether to shudder or smile.

We are taking some young friends out to eat to celebrate. We are going to The Columbia Restaurant in Ybor City. I once took the Red Queen there on the advice of my father. See we were good friends. We wanted to date, but didn't. We'd tiptoe up to the edge of dating, smile a weak smile, and step back. I think for she, and I know for me, dating someone always led to screwing up the friendship. We didn't want that. So we didn't.

There we were, headed out on a non-date, all dressed up and nervous. Dad asked where I was going to take her and I said, "I don't know, probably for pizza."He told me to take her someplace nice instead, like the Columbia. Well, Mr. Minimum Wage (yours truly, who toiled away in a warehouse for $3.80 an hour) was shocked...shocked I tell ya. I could never afford that. Well, it seems I could. Dad reasoned, and correctly so, that if you don't order drinks and fancy appetizers, the price of the entrees themselves were on par with buying a pizza. so you could both dress up and act with all the grace and high school sophistication you desired without breaking the bank. The non-date ended with a non-kiss and a non-invitation to come in for coffee. But we were well fed.

Just as a side note, you need to be aware that dressing up in the timeframe we are talking abought would include any or all of the following: leisure suit, print rayon shirt with a wide collar, platform soles. Just so you know. I have pictures to prove it.... that you'll never see.

Work with me people, c'mon, out

Ramblin' Ed

--------------------------------------------

A long time ago, when I was young, I had to come to grips with some things. In my fashion, I chose to do it in rhyme. As with most everything I've penned, these were for me. Again, as with most things I've ever penned, I share them with you.

When Johnny Comes Marching Home/Amazing Grace

The revoulotion's timeless

your opposition spineless

your brother's in the trenches

with the luckless sons of bitches

preparing for the onslought

no matter what we once thought

God has breathed his breath

on the men awaiting death

as they sing Amazing Grace

Preparing for the bloodbath

on the resurrected warpath

yeah, the propaganda's changed

but their smiling face remains

Saying, "Fight to keep your homeland free

If not for you, then just for me"

for the children born this weary day

while in agony you pass away

They can sing amazing grace

The war machine rolls right along

drowning out our fighting song

the crucifix that gives us strength

shall never fall in grim defeat

your brother in the trench has died

but God and luck were on our side

our enemies, our godless foes

were crushed beneath our righteous blows

Let us sing Amazing Grace

The Humanity Humility

Listen, can you hear it

in your father's old fatigues

Born into fighting spirit

can you see the DMZ?

It's not like in a fantasy,

the two of us can bleed

we led our troops to battle

with humanity

Do you remember

you were only seventeen

you fought for truth

you were a hero in blue jeans

armed with youth

but we lost everything, it seems

You were half a special team

we learned humility

It was so peaceful

like the California shore

It was decietful

for we were burdened with a war

of such dimensions

it couldn't grow no more

Hand in hand we swore

to live forever

It was dark and it was raining

the troops all ran for cover

The battle was still raging

we just looked at one another

Man, there ain't no use in praying

they've already got your brother

And that altered my decision

altogether

I remember,

what it was in sixty-eight

it was December

and the snow was coming late

Yet we were hindered

by all the cobwebs of our fate

and humanity was laughing

in our faces

We surrendered

We put our youth away

and we surrendered

we can fight another day

But we'll remember

until they put us in our graves

that humanity was laughing

in our face

Chester MacHenry

Chester MacHenry came back from the ocean

with four missing teeth and a parrot named Stan

an old wooden leg that he took off for sleeping

and a hard thirst for rum that he never could kill

When Chester MacHenry came back from the sea

wearing tattoos and taboos from all over the world

He had this look in his eye like the rage of a stallion

and a soft spot inside for the girl they called Lil

Said, "Chester, oh Chester,

you old salty dog.

Got your head in the clouds,

are you lost in the fog?"

Old Chester MacHenry,

a man for all times

still longing to be

west of latitude lines

Now Chester MacHenry's confined to his shanty

his old wooden leg in a heap by his bed

Stan's on his perch, drinking beer and still cursing

Might be only a bird, but he's more than a friend

Now the cold winter wind's blowing off the Atlantic

I guess rum and a blanket will keep a man warm

Stan's screaming something 'bout freezing tailfeathers

it seems that they both feel the same in the end

Chester MacHenry came back from the ocean

with stories to tell about places he'd been

he'd share them with anyone willing to listen

for Chester MacHenry was a lonely old man

Seems all that old Chester brough back from the ocean

was four missing teeth and a parrot named Stan

an old wooden leg that he took off for sleeping

Yes, Chester MacHenry was one lonely man

I like rice. Rice is great if you're hungry and want 2000 of something

2009-07-06T04:42:00.005-05:00

I am in Kingston, Ontario in a hotel on the Lake Ontario shore. So now I have been on the shores, in this order, of the Great Lakes Erie, Michigan, and Ontario. Not sure how one finds themselves at Lake Huron or Surperior, but give me time. I am here to work at the Collins Bay Corrections Facility and once again, that's all I'm going to say about that. This is it in the picture to the right. A pretty imposing feature on the local landscape.

As I was driving here (I landed in Montreal, about 2 1/2 hours NW of here) through a whole bunch of nothing except speed traps (I passed 4 of them....that I saw), I saw what I believe was the northern end of I-81. I mean, I assume US interstates end at the border. Or else they would become interprovince highways. And that's just silly.

My internet cable is fed to me through, and I am not making this up, an official game puck of the Kingston Frontenacs. Not sure what a Frontenac is, but this guy resembles either a minuteman or a pirate. And the puck is not as heavy as I would have expected although still, it could put a tooth out.

I woke up to a storm rolling in off the lake. It was pretty, as all storms are. I was reminded of Gordon Lightfoot singing about the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, "Lake Superior they said, never gives up her dead, when the storms of November come early." I wrote my own, omnious verse for Lake Ontario: Lake Ontario you'll dread, drops cold rain on your head, soaks your hair, as it dries, it goes squirrely." OK, so I'm no Canadian troubador with a cool name.

Apparently Kingston used to be the capital of Canada. It is quaint, and after you get past the plethora of nice restaurants, pretty boring. Picturesque as all get out, but boring. I drove down the Loyalist Byway (or whatever...it was Loyalist something) which wound it's way along the lakeshore. I went as far as Bath, had a pizza, and came back to the hotel to watch TV.

Canada has made life fairly simple. For starters, and I'm not calling them sissies or nothing, but they have learned to go out, drink, and have a good time without, you know, all the fighting and robbing and redneck stuff that goes on when Americans get together in cities. But mostly I would say that they have simplified store naming down to an art. There is "The Beer Store" (sells beer only), "The Water Store" (sells water), Mr. Transmission (a man who fixes transmissions, like Mr. Plow was a man [Homer Simpson] who plowed).

I was saving this up to regale you with adventures, but there is a lack of adventure right now. I did learn that our next job up here would be in a diamond mine in the Northwest Territories. Sounds both remote and interesting. I am told it is kind of wild and freewheeling up there, like Alaska. I hope I think to take a jacket.

God is great, beer is good, and people are crazy, out

Ramblin' Ed

The more things change, the more they remain insane

2009-06-25T19:19:00.008-05:00

I drive 60 mph, which is sometimes speeding, but most times is less than the limit. Anyway, I do 60 in a 45 or 50 all the time and don't even get a yawn out of the police. Apparently you either have to be really smoking or they have the COPS camera crew with them..."I'm pulling him over for a cracked tailight and...whoa nelly!, look at all the crack!"

With that said, a few of the things that make me feel all weird and alternate universey.

Alt uni #1: I will be doing 60 MPH on I-275 across the Howard Frankenstien Bridge, which is for all intents and purposes an 8 lane speedway disguised as a bridge across Tampa Bay. The posted limit is 65, the de facto speed limit more like 90. I'll be putt putting along in the far right lane and realize I am not being passed. Alt universe. Or sometimes I am actually gaining on the cars in front of me. That really messes me up. Did I miss a sign or something? How can I be passing people? Why am I going faster than everyone else? Check the dash...nope, 60. What is happening? THIS IS NOT CORRECT!!

Alt uni #2: There are no, or few, other cars on the road. Having a history of waking up and getting on with my daily routine not realizing that it is 0145 and not 0345, when I find myself alone on my commute, I not only begin checking all clocks and watches within view, I begin to wonder if they are, in fact, correct.

Alt uni #3: You have the only cans at the curb. You know it is trash day. Or at least you think you know that on every Wednesday night the cans and recycle bins go curbside. Or asphaltside, as we are curbless. But the usually prompt neighbors got nothing out front. The old lady who puts hers out in the afternoon also has nothing out front. You gaze up and down the street and find that you are, in fact, the Lone Garbage Arranger. Now you're doing math on your fingers, consulting your "palm pilot", as it were. Is today not Wednesday? No...I'm pretty sure it is. Is tomorrow a holiday? Don't think so. June 25th ain't ringing no festive bells for me. Eventually I will leave them curb, I mean, asphaltside and hope I'm not missing something. You cannot imagine the sense of relief I get when in the morning I see cans lined up and down the asphalt's edge. Or perhaps you can.

The reason there is so little crime in Germany is that it's against the law. - Alex Levin

'Who are you and how did you get in here?' 'I'm a locksmith. And, I'm a locksmith.' - Leslie Nielsen

A reckless deciple out spreading the news, out

Ramblin' Ed

------------------------------------------------------

The Land of Milk & Honeychild

Mama, understand it now?
It's so hard to be an angel
It's a mercenary world out there
all battle scars and danger
And it would just as soon devour me
yeah, all that it would leave us
are some memories we held as truth
like Sunday Schools and Jesus

Mama, I have tried so hard
to live a life of dedication
You know that's what I tried to do
but we are a violent nation
Thus mechanized, I realized
this thing has just begun
Both angels and the damned must work
now hand in hand as one

Mama, I have held that torch
that led me from my homeland
to light up pathways never known
but it vindicated no men
All the pacifists are blinded
by the glory of this day
It's so hard to be an angel
when the angels have been slain

Now the battlefield is littered
with the ones who thought it fair
To confront a growing evil
with an ornamental prayer
To break the bread and cry aloud
there on mankind's behalf
It's comical. The cancer grew.
The Lord just laughed and laughed.

First Peter. Second Peter.
Then it all just petered out.
The pages blew on seperate winds
and left no room for doubt
Yeah, this evil, and we see it,
it has led us to the verge
of suicide, beneath it lies
a systematic purge

Mama, understand it now?
It's so hard to be an angel

It's a mercenary world out there

all battle scars and danger

And it would just as soon devour me

and all that it would leave us

are the memories we held as truth

like Sunday Schools and Jesus

Ed

Walking #1

I've been walking all alone so long
I've forgotten why I started
All the bridges I may come to
well, I think I may have crossed
Still, I never let no lack of bridges
leave me broken hearted
and I haven't got the words to say
I think I might be lost

I drink a couple beers at night
I cry on with the jukebox
I don't wonder who I'm kidding
I've been laughing all along
I have spent a bent up fortune
playing sad songs on the jukebox
There's a road that's paved with quarters
it's the road to take me home

I think I might just head out west
they say it's such a wonder
that something seems so very dead
is a symphony at rest
They tell me you can talk to God
and he'll answer on the thunder
with directions to a good motel
keys waiting at the desk

Yeah, it happened like this long ago
to an imitation cowboy
I reckon all the names are changed
but it happened just the same
He'd been talking to himself so long
he'd forgotten why he started
But that was many years ago
and probably it's all changed
Ed

No matter how cynical you get, it is impossible to keep up

2009-06-17T06:41:00.007-05:00

I am technically on vacation although I worked pretty hard on Monday. Then Tuesday I spent the day at the hospital with the wife, and nothing serious or of note about it, working even harder on my Blackberry. Don't get me wrong. It's a useful enough device, but life was a lot simpler when someone had to catch you on the phone in your home. Or wait until they could.

Today, Wednesday, I intend to vacate much more thoroughly. That's the point of a day off, right? I will mow, and nap, and putter with gardening. Perhaps enjoy a frosty Yuengling. I vacate with the best of them. Tonight, I was going to sit around a fire, assuming I could find some un-rain-soaked timber here in the land of afternoon deluges. Then I remembered: Wednesday night...ABC...I SURVIVED A JAPANESE GAMESHOW. Game over for the fire, I've got plans.

Looks like the trip through Montreal may have slid right to the 6th of July timeframe. It's a shame, but you can't slap customers around about messing up your plans. So I smiled over the phone and told 'em, "Whatever you decide is fine. We'll make it work."

Put on my "Dear Abby" hat again this week. I do that for friends and I got one that needs all the encouragement that they can get. That's my middle name, you know, The Encourager. Well, that and Monkey Boy. See....

Once I was all up in arms about the laws that covered the shooting of monkeys in our great nation. And yes, there are laws about that. And needless to say, they tended to favor the shooters rather more favorably than the monkeys. Yeah, go figure. There's no Second Amendment like clause in the Constitution covering your right to not be shot in the head just for being a monkey, which I found profoundly unfair. All a person had to believe was that the monkey might cause damage and they were ripe for shooting. Hell, the same could be said for most children, too. They might cause damage, better pop a cap in 'em now just to be safe. Note: I just now decided that arming the monkeys also might be a right fair compromise. Might not be fair, though, as monkeys have a steady hand and a steely eye. What? I just know these things.

Anyway, long story, I got myself a nickname. And a dang fine one at that.

The saving grace of humor, if you fail no one is laughing at you, out

Ramblin' Ed

--------------------------------

Catch Me Memphis

Catch me, Memphis
I'm leaving as the evening weeps
I used to play the game for fun
but now I've got to play for keeps
Ain't no worries
Charlotte's just around the bend
The stakes are high, like you and I
and I wonder if it's gonna end

Watch her, Memphis
she's leaving through an unused door
She said, keep me warm and I'll keep you around
Yeah, I've heard that tune before
We shared some secrets
Couple times she shared my bed
Said that we'd be better for it
I would feel a whole lot better
if I were moving on instead

Catch me, Memphis
I'm leaving while the sun's asleep
We used to play this game for fun
but nowadays we play for keeps
I'm on the corner
and I'm waiting for the light to change
Woman took her time
woman wasted mine
She never even asked me for my name

Catch me, Memphis
Out here falling on my face again
been walking miles
down empty aisles
to find you my only friend
Move on over
my days out on the road are through
If Charlotte calls, put on a stall
you know I'd do the same for you.

Ed

How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live

2009-06-12T06:08:00.006-05:00

I was on the phone with Corporate Travel Office booking travel to (or actually, through) Montreal. We were done with the flights. We had reserved the Hertz, with patented Seldom-Lost GPS technology which allows you to easily navigate sparsely populated rural areas but drives you all over a large city recalculating it's suction cupped plastic ass off and easing you further and further away from your actual destination. But no, I'm not complaining.

The hotel, however, was not going quite as smoothly. No Hilton properties within reasonable driving distance. The only Sheraton was busting past the allowed government per diem rate and my options were shrinking. Eventually we discovered that every hotel was pricing above government rate, so I snagged the Sheraton Four Points after all. Going down my profile, the arranger was making sure frequent flyer numbers were entered, window seats were reserved (I prefer aisle for a faster egress, but now that everybody is carrying big carry on bags, I started to get tired of constantly being smacked upside the head), etc.

When she got to the hotel section, which is usually booked as a room with a King bed, she paused. I could hear her typing and typing. "Mr. Abernathy, " she asked, "Do you mind a room with two Queens?" "Not at all. " I replied in the Gumby-ish, get along style that I am known for, "I mean as long as we are talking about beds." Cracking up the travel agent is the first sign that it's going to be a good day.

Traveling my butt off again. Such is life in the big city. Almost starting to think that I live in Florida, but "summer" in Massachusetts. That's how much time I am spending up there. It is less humid there, I'll give it that. Although when I mentioned that the morning was kind of cool one day, I was told that it was, after all, only June. Sorry. I am not used to using the words jacket and June in the same sentence. I have the aforementioned D.C. trip today and Kingston, Ontario after. Boston (again), Austin, and Moscow (Russia, not Idaho) are on deck. And Iraq has not gone away, it just keeps sliding to the right.

My sunflowers are towering over me now, and have big, bright yellow heads that seem to be smiling and welcoming you to the neighborhood. I know, good for me. Hey, "Nice Gesture" is my middle names. Be good, my peeps.

Sure, power corrupts. But we need the electricity, out
Ramblin' Ed

Two Fisted Mariner's Fate

Come 'round, you young sailors
and listen to me
You toil all your days
for your love of the sea
But if you feel sad and lonely
when the winsome wind moans
then you're just a landlubber
and better off home

Well I was just 16
when we pulled from the port
at Norfolk, Virginia,
and the next I saw shore
was an isle of the Azores
as we slowly slid past
and I realized my manhood
had caught me at last

So come on, you deckhands
you officers, too
'cause I just talked Ed
into cooking some brew
And it ain't all that smooth
but tonight you won't care
when you fall into your rack
and there's still no one there

The ocean's my lady
my home is this boat
and no one can harm us
when we are afloat
And I swore that I'd change once
but I never did
The Westerlies beckoned,
they called to me

So when you find you're an old man
who's lived out his life
with salt in his nostrils
on duty all night
I hope you'll smile to recall
how I warned you this way
and the spray will wash over you
starting your day

So come 'round you sailors
and listen to me
you'll toil all your days
for your love of the sea
She'll end up with your body
with an anchor for weight
and you'll suffer
the two fisted mariner's fate

Ed

A Backwards Glance at Jenny

Well somebody ought to ask you
why you thought that you could make it
why you thought that no one else
could understand your little games
When you wake up in the morning
with your head still full of fire
and the feeling that tomorrow
well, it's gonna be the same

Don't you ever wonder why
nobody took you to the alter
when you sit around and read
those True Romances every day
Girl, your daddy took the liberty
of buying silver linings
when he couldn't find some specialist
to take your clouds away

And somebody ought to ask you
why you thought that you could make it
why you thought tha no one man
could ever make you feel this way
No, I haven't got the promises
of all those other fellows
but I've got a good umbrella
to protect us from the rain

Who am I to ask you
to stay and make me happy?
A girl need independence
or at least that's what you say
And who am I to try
to take away that independence?
Leave you longing for a love
that drags you like a ball and chain

It's with a backwards glance
I'm leaving you now, Jenny
And there's not much chance
that I'll be coming back
Well, I wanted us to fly
you didn't even want to try
so now it's over
and I'm leaving with a glance over my shoulder

Well, I know the night's are longer
know the party's going stronger
'til it's just you and Johnny Carson
half smoked cigarettes and gin
Hell, I know I could not ask you
to give up all that "freedom"
I'm not asking where you're going
and we both know where you've been

It's a two lane road I'm travelin'
but it's not too late to join me
if you think you might could leave
the gin and cigarettes behind
Girl, I don't know why you thought
that no one man could make you happy
But who am I to say?
when it's so hard to say goodbye

So with a backwards glance
I'm leaving you now, Jenny
And there's not much chance
that I'll be coming back
Well, I wanted us to fly
you didn't even want to try
so now it's over
and I'm leaving with a glance over my shoulder

Ed

Now you're telling me you're not nostalgic
Then give me another word for it
You who are so good with words
And at keeping things vague
'Cause I need some of that vagueness now
It's all come back too clearly
Yes, I once loved you dearly
And if you're offering me diamonds and rust
I've already paid
- Joan Baez

Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time

2009-05-29T06:43:00.009-05:00

There, in the lonely Florida scrub, I met The Wanderer. A wise bug, indeed, on the path to enlightenment and rust.

No, seriously, what a cool old tree.

Soloman's Castle in the background, The Boat in the Moat in the foreground. It was there, at that boat, where I was to prove my tough guyness.

Yeah! Tough guy. You know you know it. You know you want him. But you just don't mess with a tough guy. Or his homemade banana milkshake.

On the Hillsborough River doing, apparently, my best Jabba the Hutt impersonation. You know you know him. You know you want...... oh, nevermind.

After a short week (Tues-Thurs) I am off. Florida is warm and green and thoroughly doused with much needed rain. So, with that said, looks like I'm headed back to Massachusetts. Damn! Another week on the road. Well, bright side, may morph into a Friday road trip. Got wise and booked a Saturday morning flight home.

Up there again because we're still trying to sell that machine to TSA and still doing it, as I so undelicately put it Wednesday, with one brain tied behind our back. Other than telling you that, when it comes to my work and the equipment, you neither get to, nor want to, hear anything more.

Today's pictures are from a road trip we took a few weeks ago. I just got the pictures in. So I will share them now. Just don't want you to think I'm repeating my repeating myself.

Got a friend headed up from St. Pete tomorrow. I was gonna barbecue out and visit with him and the family. Low key. The wife, God love her, started calling in a bunch of other folks because me saying "it's just us and the Johnny FN family. No need to call a bunch of other people because it's not a neighborhood party. It's just them and us.", translated, somewhat suspiciously (as do most things) as, "Hey, why don't you go ahead and do whatever you want." So now we got burgers, dogs, hot links, satay, a Thai dish that I will not even attempt to spell, gyoza, and lumpia. Mad Jack is bringing a cooler full of Yuengling. Apparently, we're having a party. Yay us!!

From the redneck bottom of the corporate ladder, out

Ramblin' Ed

-------- More old stuff from the 80s ---------

For Reuben Walker (His Family & Friends)

There's a ragged young man
who's been lost in the shuffle
of daydreams, and nightmares, and newspaper scenes
But he knows for sure
what he wants out of dying
And all he can say is life is not what it seems

There's a woman with blue eyes
that rain every day
she knows she's wasting her whole life away
Sitting and crying,
forever it seems
for a man that she knows only lives in her dreams

Hey, Rueben, now I've gotta turn out the lights
Sure hope you're not tossing and turning all night
What crazy thoughts could have run through your head
To wake you up screaming, alone in your bed?

Rueben Walker
his family and friends
walked all night towards the chessboard's end
there an awesome silence
relentless as rain
was played on the jukebox, again and again
Ed

Wandering Child

long ago in an olden land
where lovers walked by hand in hand
and candy canes and wishing wells
were mine to be commanded

I took a journey, took a trip
on a long forgotten sailing ship
only to discover that
my mind had been expanded

It's there that I met Misery
I smiled at her and she at me
we shared a scotch and water
and I could not let her pay

She took me to her house in town
she hung me up, I laid her down
seems we were only puppets
in some left unkiltered play

She disappeared into my head
left me lying on that bed
that two had shared
but now held only one

I cried out, "Please! Don't go away
I really don't know what to say
Don't think we need our last words
to be spoken by a gun

'Cause you left me broken hearted here
all alone and feeling scared
you know, a manufactured dream
it's just a sugar coated nightmare."

Then men that are more wise than I
with cotton shirts and sullen eyes
they told me that
I did not want to stay there

(they said:)
"Take that ship back home again
you find a lover or love a friend
or pass along these words
that all have heard but few have spoken

Misery, she's a heartless bitch
she'll leave you all a nervous wreck
then just drop you on the sidewalk
like a child's toy that's been broken."

Those men were much more wise than I
So I opened up and closed my eyes
And I caught that last train leaving
for a place called coming home

And all along the railroad tracks
ex-lovers waited, holding back
the fears and things that make a town
a place called coming home

Misery, that wandering child
born of spirits running wild
spoke of candy canes
and wishing wells to be commanded

Misery, that wandering child
playful eyes and deadly wiles
touched me in my dreams, you know
my mind has been expanded.
Ed

It never hurts to ask. Unless you ask for hurt.

2009-05-24T20:31:00.012-05:00

Takayuki Ikkaku, Arisa Hosaka and Toshihiro Kawabata provided the great title quote. Plus, it is so thoroughly zen. And, since we seem to be paying homage to Japanese wisdom, try this one on for size: The reverse side also has a reverse side. - Japanese Proverb

I wound up with about 10 hours to kill on Friday. I was in Boston, but didn't have to be. So I asked my buddy who lived there where a cool little beach town might be. I had thought maybe Saugus, but after he described it to me, it sounded like the Soprano's opening credits scenery. He suggested Newbury and/or Salisbury. Sounded good to me and, he continued, it was only 30 minutes or so up I-95 to get there. So I programmed "Newbury, town of - city center" in the Hertz SELDOM-LOST GPS system. Then I chose the "least use of freeways" option. I mean, hey, I took his advice on where to go. Just not on how to get there. Because if I have learned nothing else in life, I have learned that for me, it is less about the being there and more about the getting there. All the good stories are found along the road.

I took Route 133 and Route something else (remembering stuff, especially numbers, is not my forte) until I got to Newburyport and Plum Island. Plum Island was pretty boring, and by that I mean really, really boring. But Newburyport, which is different from Newbury in a way that was not readily apparent to me, was pretty much what I was looking for. Quaint and New Englandy by design (it was established in 1971, as opposed to 1671 like a lot of the surroundings), you could park and walk. It had quirky shops, and neighborhood drug stores; high tone and studiously casual dining; and watering holes for every stripe. I had a burger and fries, with a yellow curry dip for the fries that I never would have expected, and a cold Hoegarten draft. I sat there eating and watching tourists walk by on the sidewalk. I was stoked.

The ride through Massachusetts, a state I can only spell with great concentration, was beautiful. Forests and fields and even, dare I say it?, swamps! They looked like actual swamps to me, albiet probably sans alligators, although there may be a different local word for them. Anyhow, the ride certianly had it going on. The weather was a nice mid-80s and there was no humidity to speak of. I had the windows down and a station out of Waltham that would stick a country song, maybe two, between each endless string of commercials.

I want to go to Maine. Of course, it will be a summer trip. But I think I will drive.

Life limped along at subsonic speeds, out
Ramblin' Ed
The Hull River from the bank. Or actually, from out on the trunk of a horizontally growing tree whilst thinking how suckful it would be to fall in.

Newburyport walking market. Or whatever they called it. It was a decent place to kill an afternoon.

Gotta love a city limits that looks like this. It was a very beautiful and relaxing drive to crank the rented generic white Chevy Impala up to 50mph, set the cruise control, and stick to the backroads. Word.

A what, driftwood boat-igator? Gator clipper? Don't know. It was the only interesting thing on Plum Island. It was in somebody's yard.

"How can you not stop and have yourself some grog when the opportunity presents itself?", I thought. I found out how. When the joint is closed you get no grog.

My initial reaction: "Huh??"

Thin Man 16OCT82

Thin Man you've lived a melodious tune
A life very much like my own
Your fingers they dance on a guitar so worn
You mesmerized me with your story

Brother, I've followed those stars in my eyes
call your patience a virtue, I'm sure
As you sail the breeze, set your course as you please
laying visions, like treasures, before me

I've seen your eyes swelling with tears, for you love
a passion burns deep in your heart
You share it with others, can't hold it within
It crashes like waves on the shoreline

I cherish that piece of your soul that you gave me
though I'd rather you called it a loan
I'll be bringing it back in a brown paper sack
for a man has a need for his soul

Thin Man you've given me pleasures I've taken
As far as Siam, as they say
It's a magical thing that you do with your strings
You mesmerize me with your story

Remember, our paths intersect at a point
When they do, then I'll see you again
Call it our fate, call it damnable breaks
or just coming to terms with our glory

Ed

I used to want to be able to write obliquely like the Beatles when they did things like Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds (LSD). I have a few like that, but this next one made the best song. Perhaps it's not as clever as I thought it was back in '82. That happens a lot.

The Prince of Paper Promises

Can you hear it stalking
dancing up and down your spine
the fear is so exciting, but
the guilt is solely mine
the words I know by heart
but the tune is just a ghost
I'm the prince of paper promises
the king has been dethroned

Did you hear the sixguns blazing
deep within the night?
Did you hide the evening's sorrow
in the haze behind your eyes?
'Cause even as you run away
the lonely bandit smiles
you know its just a sixgun
and he knows you're just a child

And did you read the papers?
Two young lovers bit the dust
such unholy desperados
one more notch is born of lust
the sun is setting slowly
wild, young sons are rising fast
the first step is the longest
and it just may be your last

It gets so hard to smile
when you're only 21
when you know that it's all over
though it seems you've just begun
the laugh tracks cannot cover
those last tracks that you laid
not the life you asked for
but the one you made

You were a knight in shining armor
as the rust ate through your heart
you went tripping through the windowpane
and finished at the start
the orange sunshine begged you
to come worship on the coast
then forgot to bring along the dreams
and that's what hurt the most

Ed San Diego/Ocean Beach

A man thinks that by mouthing hard words he understands hard things

2009-05-16T06:53:00.008-05:00

I am off to Boston tomorrow. Will be up there all week. I am a little sad about it. My boss, who I also considered a pretty good friend, was let go. It was just business. And I took the news harder than he did. But now, when I go in to work, there will be one of my peers sitting in for him. Not even a popular peer.

I love my job. I look forward to coming in to the office knowing that for two weeks I will be building CT technicians. I love the camaraderie of that. I love, as I always have, bringing in an apprehensive new guy and sending out a confident maintenance technician. In fact, except that the courses were not two but twenty something weeks long, I did the same thing in the navy for years.

And I think that's what I have the hardest time grasping. In my brain I understand, but overall, in practice I just cannot grasp the "it's just business" concept. I suppose it's because for my whole adult life teamwork, team dynamics, and loyalty were the ideals that we were taught to demonstrate. They were non-negotiable. They were the holy grail of shipboard life. Friendships made were friendships for life. Some of you out there know what I mean. So even though the concept is understandable, I have a hard time with "we're letting you go so we can save your salary."

And another man, someone very close to me was also let go. Sure, there was a blunder on his part, and that's why, to a large extent he caused his own fate. But it was an honest mistake of a blunder and he lost his job not because it was as good a reason as any to see him off, but because in life some rules are just black and white. No wiggle room. His boss went to bat for him and his boss' boss apologized for what he was about to do. But he had to pull the trigger and he did.

One good thing that came from it was that there was a resignation allowed. Even though I am pretty sure that, if not the letter of the law then certianly at least the intent of the law, was for a firing to take place. While that rules out a shot at unemployment benefits, it at least avoids the awkardness at a job interview of having to say that you were fired.

They guy across the street is probably the most Christ-like Christian I have ever met. He's rough and tough, gets mad and gets over it, makes no compromises in his faith, reaches out to share his faith and yet manages to be not only tolerant of, but friends with, those with different views than his. I really think Jesus would have hung out with him since, as a carpenter, he must have been more like my friend than not.

My neighbor loves his Harley. He has been riding since before birth, or at least from soon after. Now it sits in his drive with a FOR SALE sign on it. He's still employed, but is sent home on days there'sno work to do. He's home a lot more these day. He's selling his bike because a man does what it takes to care for his family. Everywhere I look, the bad economy is picking off my peeps...one by one.

Anyway, I have had these guys on my mind a lot and have been doing what I can for them. But I have not felt much like blogging because of it.

The world is full of people whose notion of a satisfactory future is, in fact, a return to the idealised past. - Robertson Davies
Absolute faith corrupts as absolutely as absolute power - Eric Hoffer

This is for AI, whenever he next wanders over this way. As he pointed out, he blogs a lot more than I do now. I am far removed from the daily musings I used to offer. Are they gone forever? Who knows. But they are gone for now. Anyway.....

Booker T., of And The MGs fame, has a new disk out. It's called Potato Hole (2009). AI, when you read the review, you'll know why it's for you. Rolling Stone's review follows:

It's fitting that Patterson Hood, son of Muscle Shoals bassist David Hood, should record with his dad's Southern-soul peer, 64-year-old Stax-session kingpin Booker T. Jones. Add Neil Young and Hood's bandmates in Drive-By Truckers, and what might've been a generic awards-show jam turns out to be a badass set of MG's-style instrumentals. Jones' sweet, thick Hammond B-3 riffs are spiked with Truckers' roughneck (and surprisingly funky) Southern rock and some exceptionally lyrical, focused Young guitar leads. The originals feel like old standards. But the cover of OutKast's "Hey Ya" is the zinger: It's Southern race-mixing party music come full circle.

The purpose of life is to fight maturity, out
Ramblin' Ed

Highway Song 12 November, 1981

You don't know my name
I'm in between towns and I sure would like a friend
I'd like to share my time

I've never been old standard
Never been held accountable,
not once,
for anyone I may have known

Time it flies, like melting ice
Like sweat beads on a glass
I stare out the window
As the countryside goes past

What a hedonistic plan
for such a sacreligious man
I don't let one dark day slip on past

How would you like romance
that jumped right up and bit you in the hand?
That was not my plan

Midnight found me creeping
Yeah, midnight found me creeping
just the same
to that girl with no last name

Time it flies, like alabis
made up on the spot
Some were halfway true
and some were not

I didn't mind the playing games
got me a handful just the same
some would sure agree and some would not

I don't need a name now
I'm in between friends and it sure does make me smile
Think I might stay here a while

Hell, it might be the music
you may call it just
a highway song
I've been singing all along

Time sure flies, like them white lines
that lead the highway where it goes
Those same white lines
that led me far from home

And like a drifter, like a wind
don't seem to matter where I've been
when everybody tells me where to go

Time it flies, like melting ice
Like sweat beads on a glass
I stare out the window
As the countryside goes past

What a hedonistic plan
for such a sacreligious man
I don't let one dark day slip on past

Now you've heard my story
And still I need someone to be my friend
like a movie near its end

All this living technicolor
Don't you know it makes me feel
a movie scar
got no money. Got no car

Time it flies, like drugs supplied
to live inside our heads
my thoughts come off much like an unmade bed

Don't leave me when I'm gonna crash
don't let the conscienceness attack
Can't let this highway song
go to my head
Can't let this highway song
go to my head
Can't let this highway song
go to my head

Ed

It's not true that life is one damn thing after another; it is one damn thing over and over

2009-05-03T07:11:00.005-05:00

I have always considered myself to be a little on the lazy side. My two favorite quotes are from Calvin (to Hobbes: "I don't know, but I refuse to find out") and from some long forgotten stand-up comic ("I start out kind of slow, then taper off").

A while back I figured aloud as how you can't proclaim that you are "complicated", since if you really were you'd probably not know it because your mind would be all wrapped around other things besides navel gazing and impressing peers. I mean, that's just a fact. And not a complicated one, either.

Now just a second ago, or "pre-deletion" as it were, there was a long, rambling rumination on my bona fides to back up my ultimate claim to unaffected cool and laid backness. Nevermind. It was drivel. Suffice to say here that other than a random lapse here and there, I got the mellow thing down.

Lazy... not so sure. But you'll get even less pontification on the reasons, becsause my DELETE button/index finger interaction went even further on that. Basically, to summarize what I had written earlier, I feel like I'm lazy, but I am probaby not and I can more or less prove it. So mellow...yes, lazy.... edifying, but ultimately incorrect, self-characterization.

Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome. -Isaac Asimov

We are stomping around Ottawa during the day and crossing the river to stomp around Quebec at night. Never before been to Canada and I am finding it to be fun filled and inexpensive. However, we had to get by most of yesterday morning on "smile credit". We did not think to change any money at the airport upon arrival on Monday. As we headed in to work on Tuesday, in the shadow of the TOTALLY AWESOME government buildings downtown, we kept running into problems paying for things. Everybody wanted cash. And not greenbacks, but the plastic stuff with the Queen on it. We were working in a hotel conference room, but since we were not guests, we could not get money exchanged, even just $20, to pay them for our parking. We could not pay for coffee and bagels because a) we had no Canadian dollars, b) they would take our credit cards as payment...or would have if their network wasn't down, something we discovered too late to abort the coffee and bagel getting operation and c) the ATMs we tried all had negative feelings towards processing our transactions to withdraw some of the local plasticized currency. In both cases we just smiled while I drawled, "We don't want to cheat you. We'll come back later to pay you back if you'll let us just go now." Surprisingly, in both cases there was no hesitation at all in allowing us to walk out with that verbal IOU as collateral. And, I am proud to report, bagel lady has already been repaid and the parking lady will be as soon as we hit the bank again. We had her money, but a too cute waitress got it all last night as a tip. She had the good sense to at least give the impression that she found us amusing.

Last night was a great adventure. Tonight will be an even greater one as we don't have to work tomorrow. Like they say, it's only money.

Never eat more than you can lift, out

Ramblin' Ed

By trying we can easily learn to endure adversity. Another man's, I mean.

2009-04-26T05:57:00.010-05:00

We took off outta Brandon at a leisurely rate of spped. CD was twanging out some Buddy Miller. Of course, we returned listening to John Prine. But that was much later. In between we Floridarized. The rural route. You know, a road trip.

As any good day must start, our began with those 4 words, "Whadda ya wanna do?" And I replied, "I want to head south, out of the pavement and into the trees. " "You got a place in mind?" "Kinda. I want to head down Myakka City and Lakewood Ranch way. Never been there." And so we did.

Down we went, through McMansionville...I mean, Fish Hawk Ranch, on down to Duette, Wachula, Ona, Myakka Head (which sounded more interesting than it turned out to be), and finally into Myakka City (it's own pitiful self).

Along the way we found ourselves getting more and more rural. You know you're in the middle of nowhere when even Mosiac Corporation ain't mining big old holes in the ground and shipping your county off one truckload at a time to be fertilizer. We found ourselves State Parks, County Parks, Recreation Areas, and Preserves. There were 4 places that we found that are on our "Fer Sure" list of places to go back and fish. Hardee Lakes Park, near Wachula is at the top.

As we were headed West on Highway 64 we passed a small sign that said "SOLOMAN'S CASTLE" with an arrow pointed down a tiny side road heading, it appeared, to even more middle of nowhere than the nowhere where we currently were....or weren't. "Wanna see a castle?" "Of course." Since we had missed the left turn to take us there, we pulled a U-turn and then hung a right. And, mathmetically, that is correct.

This is where we ended up. Soloman's Castle & Photographs (These are early pics it seems, as there are much, much more sculptures, iguanas (live), and flowers now.) In case you are wondering, lunch in the boat on the moat consisted of corned beef on rye (me) and BBQ pork (DRE). Plus I had a banana milk shake...'cause I could. It was the perfect lunch for a perfect road trip afternoon.

While walking on a small trail near the grounds, we detoured off path. Like a crow is drawn to shiny objects, we are drawn to bodies of water, no matter how small. The creek, which was full of fish, including loads of gar resting right there in the shallows, had given us a different personality at every bend. We had walked over to look at this curve in the creek, drawn by the incredibly green carpet of groundcover providing a contrast to the vibrant yellow of the black-eyed susans. We enjoyed the moment and then turned to return to the path.

We saw a container, hung on a tree branch. Small, about the diameter of an Oreo cookie and maybe 6 inches long. It had spanish moss pulled over it on the side that faced the trail. But coming from the direction of the creek, it was pretty easy to spot. We thought we'd found somebody's stash. Turned out we'd discovered a cache. We pored through the items, added our own, and replaced it. Since we are not goecachers, but rather accidental discoverers, we did not have much on us to put in there. DRE dropped in a dime and I added a business card for Cafe Koalo, a Latin restaurant I like up in St. Pete.

We spent the better part of the day doing all of this. Like I say, we were in a particularly non-rush mode and we stopped a lot to observe, ponder, photograph, and sometimes, pee. Leaving the area, still on 64 West, we came upon I-75 just outside of Bradenton. We hopped on it northbound, travelling, to the great consternation of every other northbound motorist, at a blistering 60 MPH. Buddy Miller had long since given way to Sonia Dada . Now, sensing the road trip was quickly coming to termination, the CD changer slid back around to the Disk 1 position, bringing in John Prine's Lost Dogs and Mixed Blessings.

Remember, Illegal aliens have always been a problem in the United States. Ask any Indian, out

Ramblin' Ed

Dreamer June 1980

The whole world is warped and distorted
the old man acknowledged
With young men in search of quick fame
and no real thirst for knowledge
Young women in chains
playing older girl's games
Got a fantasy mistress to please you
Stand fast by your dreams, my young citizens,
else they will leave you

You young people seem starry eyed
the old man went on
and your cynical smiles echo
endlessly on the new dawn
What problems confront you
soon melt in your mind
'Neath the heartaches of yesteryear
frozen in time
They'll rape you and leave you lie freezing
and then who will cry?

What a farce, what a travesty
written and glowing in red
Vodka and orange juice popsicles
dance in your head
Then the dreams disappear
in the thin mountain air
and the fantasy mistresses leave you
Stand fast by your dreams, my young citizens,
they will appease you

The mist in the street hung low
like a soft mother breast
A single sad trolley was singing
the songs he knew best
While solemnly following tracks he laid down
his yellowed eye searching the depths of the town
for a young man with dreams
that he hoped some day might come true
But the rage he kept hidden,
like clockwork, was now turning blue

Appease me! Release me!
Or otherwise beat me!, I cried
For time will not stop
when another young dreamer has died
The poets have spoken,
but no one has heard
Your brother lies bleeding
'neath more misspelled words
And I, in my ignorance, beg that someday I might see
That, I concluded, exposes the depths of my schemes

And the whole world is warped and distorted
the old man acknowledged

Ed San Diego, CA