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Friday, July 13, 2007

Major Award Winning Blog


When I was a kid, I always wondered what it meant when at the beginning of the Buggs Bunny / Road Runner Hour, the announcer would say "It's time for that Oscar winning rabbit!"

To my ten year old mind, I was all, "What's an Oscar? What's so great about winning one?"

Hey, I never said I was the sharpest pencil in the cup.

But later I learned that Buggs Bunny had won an Academy Award, the "Oscar", and that in some circles this is considered a good thing.

The Oscars have long since lost their luster by handing them out willy-nilly to knuckleheads like Sean Penn, Al Gore, and Michael Moore, not on the merits of their work, but on their tireless efforts to promote ultra-liberal values through their work.

But that's a dead horse to beat on a future post.

In the blog world, some folks can just flat-out write, and are funny, and most important of all, speak elloquently AND plainly enough for even a Louisiana public school product like myself to understand and appreciate.

One of the blogs I regularly visit is Scribbit: Motherhood in Alaska - How Could I Make This Stuff Up?.

The other day, she included me in a list of bloggers to whom she was bestowing the "Blogger Reflection Award".

Thank you Scribbit. I accept this award, with all associated rights, honors, and benefits (which, I understand, amounts to simply bragging rights).

I tend not to pass on these things, but I'm going to break with my own tradition and nominate Norma at Collecting My Thoughts.

She is as plain-spoken as a person can be, with much better grammar than I can muster.

I think her personal quote under the title of her blog pretty much says what you can expect:
Opinionated, strict, safe for children, honest and well researched blog with some slang, statistics and humor for pacing, and occasional prejudices and snipes tossed in for balance.
Give her a visit, and give her some comment love too. Oh yeah, she cranks out the posts on no less than ELEVEN (yes, ELEVEN) blogs that she authors or participates in, so there's almost always a new post or two when you visit.

She covers the political things that I care about way before and way better than I can, and is one of the main reasons I don't write many political posts any more.

Go visit Collecting My Thoughts right now. And no lurking. Comment, dag-nab-it!

Friday the Thirteenth


Well folks, it's Friday the 13th.

Does that mean anything to any of you? It means nothing to me. Never has.

When I was a kid I didn't understand all of the hullabaloo over things like this. Why certain numbers are supposed to be unlucky and others blessed.

I thought I would try to look it up. I went to Wikipedia, admittedly not the most reliable or accurate source of information, but it should serve to see what Friday the 13th is all about.

Some quotes from Wikipedia's Friday the 13th entry that I found interesting:
A Friday occurring on the 13th day of any month is considered to be a day of bad luck in English, German, Polish and Portuguese-speaking cultures around the globe. Similar superstitions exist in some other traditions. In Greece or Spain, for example, Tuesday the 13th takes the same role. In Russia, the unlucky day is Monday...

The fear of Friday the 13th is called paraskavedekatriaphobia (a word that is derived from the concatenation of the Greek words Παρασκευή, δεκατρείς, and φοβία, meaning Friday, thirteen, and phobia respectively...

No historical date has been verifiably identified as the origin of the superstition. Before the 20th century, although there is evidence that the number 13 was considered unlucky, and Friday was considered unlucky, there was no link between them. The first documented mention of a "Friday the 13th" is generally listed as occurring in the early 1900s.

and finally,

"It's been estimated that [U.S] $800 or $900 million is lost in business on this day because people will not fly or do business they would normally do."

Some people are so paralyzed by fear that they are simply unable to get out of bed when Friday the 13th rolls around. The Stress Management Center and Phobia Institute estimates that more than 17 million people are affected by a fear of this day. Despite that, representatives for both Delta and Continental Airlines say that their airlines don't suffer from any noticeable drop in travel on those Fridays.

A British Medical Journal study has shown that there is a significant increase in traffic-related accidents on Friday the 13ths.

Again, Wikipedia isn't known for it's accuracy, just it's convenience, but with such an unimportant subject as this, we'll just go with it, OK?

It seems that Friday the 13th is much ado about nothing. I felt this way, even as a kid. Seems I've been pretty much right all these years.

This was the first time I've tried to even look up more information on the subject.

Just for the record:

- I have no problem walking under a ladder either, unless it's a really small ladder. I'm a big guy and in those cases it's just easier to walk around them.

- I do not freak out, nay, I really don't care at all if a black cat walks across my path. I just hope the poor critters don't get run over when wandering about the streets.

- Spilled salt does not bother me in the least. I do not throw a pinch over my shoulder to ward off evil either.

- Most of all, I DO NOT believe that if your palm itches, money is coming your way. I would be insanely rich if this were true. As it is, the only money that has come my way were paychecks I earned, and loved ones giving me money on special occasions like Christmas, birthdays, and whatnot. If this one were even remotely true, I'd be in the news every year with That Rich Dude from Mexico, Bill Gates, and the Sultan of Brunei.

Most disappointing of all to me, are that many Christians are just as bad about things like this, having their own versions of phobias and numerology based fears.

Some think that the number 7 is a blessed number for various reasons, one being that God created life on earth in 7 days, and is therefore inherently a good number. But God created life on earth in 6 days and rested on the 7th, so that can't be the reason.

There are other uses in the Bible for all kinds of numbers, 7, 3 for the Holy Trinity, but as much as I've read the Bible over the years, I've never seen mention of US being directed to use numbers that are by their very nature, blessed.

You can go into Christian book stores and buy what I consider heretical works such as "Bible Code" books and such where numerologists have tried their hand at divining deeper meaning from the scriptures simply using the numbers of letters in words, sentences, paragraphs, pages, well, you get the picture.

For the record, I neither buy nor believe in this kind of thing, especially in regards to the Bible.

I believe that God said what he meant. Using Prophets and other men anointed to the task of writing the words God spoke into their spirit, for us to read and know.

Maybe my belief in this makes you roll your eyes and say, hey, you sit here and tell us numbers mean nothing other than to count with, yet your believe that God himself spoke through certain men to tell us what he wanted us to hear and learn and live?

Yep. That's exactly what I'm saying.

I'm a big boy now, and I make my own choices, what to do, and what to believe in.

As do we all.

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Thursday Thirteen #46


13 More Stupid Questions and Answers About Me


I'm still stealing meme questions from other people's blogs to keep up with Thursday Thirteen.

1. Which do you think is more dangerous: an angry bear or a hungry white shark? Hungry great white shark. Pretty close call though. I just think that I might end up with some pretty hideous scars, but would survive a bear attack. I'm thinkin' a big ol' shark would take an arm or leg and I'd bleed to death in about two minutes.

2. Would you climb a very high tree to save a kitten? Nah. If I were young and really fit, yes. Not now though.

3. Can you tell the difference between a crocodile and an alligator? No. I don't have eyes in the back of my head to look at and ponder the difference while I'm attempting to run away.

4. Do you drink pepsi or coke? Doesn't matter to me. My taste isn't discriminating enough to care for one over the other.

5. Whats your favorite number? I don't have a favorite number, as in feeling lucky or anything. But if pressed on the matter, I would say that pi is my favorite number. That 3.14159 is just SO darn useful. I kinda dig "e", the base of natural logarithms, which is also irrational, so I'll just call it 2.71828.

I'll bet you're sorry you asked that one now, aren't you?

6. If you were a car, would you be an SUV or a sports car? SUV. Before screwing up my back I was an EXCELLENT pack mule; definitely more SUV-like.

7. Have you ever accidentally taken something from a hotel? No. But I've accidentally left things at hotels. And I've never understood the fascination with hotel towels anyway.

8. Would you blow your nose at the dinner table? In general, no. But if it's just immediate family and it's that after-everyone-is-through-eating period when we're all just talking, yeah, I would. Not with visitors though.

9. Have you ever slipped in the bathtub? Yeah, but haven't broken anything or cut anything. Only bruises to show for it.

10. Do you use regular or deodorant soap? Deodorant. After my last back surgery I hallucinate smells, and no longer trust my nose. I'm a bit paranoid about how I smell and use deodorant soap to add a level of mental ease to my worries.

11. Have you ever locked yourself out of the house? No. Not that I recall. Car, yes, house, no.

12. Would you rather make your living as a singing cowboy or as one of the Simpsons voices? I've never watched the Simpsons. Can a person make a living doing one show's character voice? I've always wanted to sing, and I like cowboys, so on the surface, a singing cowboy sounds pretty cool. But then they probably only sing country music, which I hate (despise even). Ok, I'd do a Simpson's voice because I couldn't handle listening to myself sing country music all the time. That's my final answer.

13. If you could invite any movie star to your home for dinner, who would it be? This was actually kind of tough. As a politically conservative person, most movie stars and I would be in a fist fight within about 5 minutes. And if I said Mel Gibson or Tom Selleck, I'd never see my wife again, so I'll go with Bruce Willis. He seems like the kind of person who would be great to have over for a Bar-B-Q



The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!


Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Politics as Usual and a Couple of Purdy Pictures

(If you don't want to read my whining about political things, just scroll to the bottom of the post for the pictures.)

I have really been holding back on political things lately. It’s as if, a while back, something snapped in me and I haven’t had the compulsion that I once used to get to write about political things.

One of the main reasons for this, the Republican party, which for the past x number of years has been the only reasonably conservative party in the country with any hope of winning and holding offices in national elections, has been behaving and voting much as the Democrats do, who are typically liberal.

Despite some of what passes for vehemence out of my mouth, or fingers as it were, I don’t hate Democrats or liberals. I disagree with many of their political positions, but who cares besides me? I’m one of 300 million citizens in America, I read, watch, and learn, and when the time comes I vote.

I agree with conservatives much of the time, so I tend to come down on the side of Republicans.

But the recent issues with the “Comprehensive Immigration Reform” has taught many Americans, including me, that our Congress and Senate and current President don’t have a clue where the majority of Americans stand on what this bill meant.

I heard, time and again, Washington big-wigs shouting into microphones how this bill wasn’t amnesty. That just proved to those of us with half a brain that they have some sort of disease that happens inside the Washington, D.C. beltway, where the people there begin to truly believe what the lobbyists tell them.

It was really simple to about 250 million or so of the 300 million Americans that opening a path for illegal aliens to be granted full rights of citizenship which didn’t entail them getting out of here and getting to the back of the line behind those honest souls who are trying to be here and become citizens legally is nothing other than amnesty.

There’s simply no other way to view it with any credible reasoning.

But that’s the problem. That’s just the way I feel. That’s my reasoning. I do feel gratified that so many millions of other Americans felt this way and made so many phone calls and emails to their Congressmen and Senators that the phone system was overloaded, and enough people took notice of this to vote correctly on this immigration bill, but enough voted for it and castigated the people of America for being against it that I’m appalled and afraid something similar might be resurrected and slipped through the process without our awareness.

My $0.02 is simply that if we did two things, we could empty this country of illegal aliens and halt future flows of them:

1. Take away the business licenses of companies the KNOWINGLY hire illegal aliens. Shut ‘em down.
2. Turn the Immigration and Naturalization Service, or whatever it’s called these days, loose to enforce current laws, and do the same with the U.S. Border Patrol, quit chopping them off at the knees and let them protect our borders.

Would there still be millions of problem situations? Sure, but it’s a start.

All I know is, if we keep on like we are, we’re eventually going to let in a suitcase atomic bomb that will be detonated and kill millions. Heck, it might already be here.

But we have to stop the unguarded flow of people into America across all of our borders, and we need to elect officials who agree that this needs to be done and that are willing to take this hard road to protect America’s future.

Just let the people who are theoretically hired to stop the influx of illegal aliens across our borders, all of the borders, and that will go a long way to making America safer.

America is built on the shoulders of people who were LEGAL immigrants, or descendants thereof. No one wants to stop immigration. No one hate immigrants.

We just want illegal immigration stopped before it causes the collapse of our government due to the weight they put onto government handout programs and medical programs for poor CITIZENS.

We want our borders sealed and protected to let in and out only legal immigrants and travelers, and to protect this country from the next 9/11 type attack.

Is this too tough a stance. Am I being too cruel here?

If so, lets first close the borders. Shut all of them down to just the legal commerce and immigration and travel that should be happening. Totally clamp down, absolutely as hard as possible on all illegal alien entry into the U.S.

Then once that is done, we can debate on what to do about the illegal aliens that are here now.

But the first priority HAS TO BE to stop the arterial hemorraging that are our borders.

And another thing...

Why are the liberals in America getting their panties in such a wad over President Bush commuting Scooter Libby's sentence. Actually, I'm not a fan of his, but like it or not, it's within the Presiden't power to do so. And I mean within powers that the original framers of our country like John Adams thought important enough to make sure the President had them at his disposal. President Clinton used his powers to pardon and conservatives cried like crack babies, now President Bush commutes a sentence and Bush Derangement Syndrome has the left leaners doing the same.

Come on. Really. Scooter Libby is nobody.

We all know that Richard Armitage was the person who told reporters that the non-covert Valerie Plame worked for the CIA.

By the most basic logic, if she was really a covert agent, and Richard Armitage admitted to telling reporters that Valerie Plame worked for the CIA, then why didn't the special prosecutor go after Armitage?

I'll tell you why. Valerie Plame wasn't covert, at the VERY LEAST, not in a way that makes Armitage's exposure of her a crime. If she was legally considered covert, we know who outed her, and it wasn't Scooter Libby. It was Richard Armitage.

If laws were broken regarding Valerie Plame, then why hasn't Richard Armitage even been indicted and brought before a grand jury?

Again, because no crime was committed, because if there was, we know who did it. If there was a crime committed in this, then Richard Armitage, the admitted "leaker" would be under arrest and either in a trial or waiting on his trial to start.

And again, Scooter Libby is a nobody as far as the whole Valerie Plame brouhaha is concerned. Plus he's still facing a quarter of a million dollar fine. That would scare me personally just as bad as the thought of prison. Plus, as of now, the perjury conviction is still a felony on his record. That's heavy stuff folks.

Was I repetitious enough there to get my point across?

OK, OK, I’ll shut up now.


How about a couple of purdy pictures after all of that nastiness?

Both of these were taken at Sebastian Inlet State Park, about 25 miles south of where we live, and out on the barrier island we call beachside.


Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Strawberry Pie


Sometimes it only takes the smallest thing for my mind to make an association.

We bought a watermelon to eat on the Fourth of July, but ended up not even cutting it.

Lovely Wife cut it open this past weekend, and it was SO good.

I love how you can start eating a watermelon while feeling thirsty, yet the watermelon satisfies your thirst it's so juicy.

That's the way the one we bought was.

Anyway, I got to thinking about fruit and which ones I liked and have gone through periods of pigging out on over the years.

For instance, when we lived in the Dallas, Texas area, I ate honeydew melons in amazing amounts. It seemed as if I were always able to get fresh ones when we lived there, just ready to cut open and always perfectly ripe. Everywhere else we've lived it has been a gamble as to the readiness to eat of honeydews.

Growing up in Monroe, Louisiana, like many other places in the south, the availability of massive, tasty, fresh strawberries was commonplace.

Sainted Mother would buy a bunch of strawberries and we'd wash, slice, add sugar and eat them with angel food cake and Cool Whip.

I loved letting the strawberry juice soak into the angel food cake until it was a soggy mess before I began to eat it. Simple, fattening, and incredibly delicious.

Quite often though, Sainted Mother would make this strawberry glaze-like thing, and make three or four fresh strawberry pies.

I'm dying as I type this, slobberin' like Pavlov's dog.

So there's these three or four strawberry pies, freshly made at home, with fresh strawberries and that jello-like strawberry glaze gluing the whole thing together and they tasted so good, Mama HAD to make three or four of them, because the first one and a half or two would go pretty much instantaneously. Everybody would immediately eat two pieces. Then the other two might actually last us a couple of days further.

One of my best childhood / teen friends was a guy named Glenn, and he lived catty-cornered across the street from us.

Sainted Mother had learned over the years just how deep was Glenn's love for all things strawberry, so when she would make some strawberry pies, she would have me call him especially, to let him know there was fresh pie to be had.

We still laugh about this one time when Mama told me to call Glenn and tell him we had some strawberry pie if he wanted to come over and eat some.

Sainted Mother and Don C. were sitting in their recliners, and I on the couch in our den watching TV at the time.

I got up and walked over to the phone, called Glenn, and told him about the pies. He replied that he'd be right over.

Well. He must have slammed the phone down, and run at top speed across the street to our house, and as I hung up the phone, turned to my parents to tell them Glenn was going to come over, there was a knock on our storm (glass) door under the carport we all used for entry and exit to our house.

There was Glenn, already standing there, face pressed against the glass, with both hands up by his head and tapping on the glass.

It shocked all of us, because he was literally knocking on the door before I could even tell my parents he was coming.

There was this silent pause when we all looked in surprise at the door to see him standing there, impatiently knocking on the storm door, before we all three cracked up laughing.

I don't even remember sitting and eating the pie, I just remember the shock of it having been literally 5 seconds from the time he hung up the phone until he was knocking on the door.

I guess there must not have been a car coming down our street, because he couldn't have possibly gotten there that fast had he even paused to look for cars.


Glenn ended up getting a PhD in Genetics and Molecular Biology or some other sort of tongue twister like that from Purdue University in Indiana.

He called me out of the blue last fall, and I wrote a post about it; I had lost track of him, and he was able to track me down instead. I mentioned him in this post too.

I forgot to ask if he's still a strawberry nut.

Monday, July 9, 2007

Photo Repair With Photoshop Elements

This past weekend, I did very little writing, having decided to work on photographs some more.

That's on thing that's nice about having several interests. If the weather is too bad and I feel to bad to get outside, wander, and take photographs, then there are hundreds of photos that I have taken that can use touching up and/or experimenting with in Photoshop Elements to get exercise my artistic muscles.

I was in the mood to take some more of the photographs that I scanned on a flatbed scanner when Lovely Wife and I were in Louisiana this past December, and that had my interest when other things didn't. Each and every one of those photos I work on, repair, and archive makes me feel better. Like I'm saving some family history in the best way that I can.

The photo I want to show you today, is one of my parents when they were young newlyweds and the original needed lots of help. I've been putting off working on this one knowing it would be a tedious job.

Without further ado, here's the before and after of one of the photos I tried to repair and archive this weekend instead of writing.



The original photo had been cut to fit into an oval frame and I created a black vignette from the oval edge outward.

Give 'em a click and let me know what y'all think.

Saturday, July 7, 2007

Picture Post, Sunday July 8, 2007

I put this photo of Lovely Wife's lighthouse on my photography blog a week or two ago, and thought I would put it here for those that for some strange reason read this blog but don't go to my photography blog. This feller is about 2ft tall and sits beside our pool and had a rechargeable battery that is recharged each day by the sun. A photosensitive cell sees when it starts to get dark and turns on the light in the tower of the lighthouse. It's not very bright but it is really pretty.

I sho-nuff need me one of these bumper stickers:

Stuck on the back of a sign at the beach:

A wooden giraffe, taken in the same store as last Sunday's totem poles:

This is a picture of the Melbourne Causeway, our closest route to the ocean, after I played with it some in Photoshop Elements 4.0. Hope y'all don't mind me getting all artsy-fartsy on ya. Thumbs up, or down?

Have a great Sunday folks!
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