Your own...personal...jeezy..: March 2011

Friday, March 25, 2011

The China Syndrome...rethinking my nuclear dilemma...

Back in 1979, a little movie called The China Syndrome scared the bejeesus out of people with it's depiction of an American nuclear plant on the verge of a meltdown...along the lines of what's going on on Japan right now. In the movies supposed near meltdown, the core would have melted into the earth, hitting groundwater & contaminating the surrounding area with radioactive steam. Doesn't sound very pleasant, does it?

I remember seeing this movie & not being very enthusiastic about all the nuke plants on the table at the time. But in the ensuing years I had begrudgingly become somewhat of a...not really a fan of nuclear energy, but a realist. Coal power plants are just...bad. Fouling the air, fouling the waters...just not good. Wind, solar, natural gas...good alternatives that we should be using as much as we can to supplement but can they really even put a dent in our energy needs? I'm not even going to mention oil.

But now let's talk about nukes. The bomb. The ones that we eradicated 2 cities with. This is our other use of nuclear fission...to blow stuff up to absolute unrecognizable smithereens. Some of us have it...and some of them don't. It's now known as a "nuclear deterrent." It's why we don't go smack North Korea around. It's why we play nice with Russia. It's supposedly why we invaded Iraq...although that turned out to be a crock of shit.

The 2 reasons why I have been thinking about the nuclear issue? Japan and.......Libya.

Japan is very dependent on nuclear energy, which is why they they are struggling so much now...not only to keep from having meltdowns but also in general trying to keep the radioactivity from contaminating the water they drink, the food they eat, and the air they breathe. We can't even imagine what these poor people are going through. And when are they going to have electricity again....next month...next year? I'm sure they tried really hard to make these plants safe, but who can plan on a monster earthquake & a giant tsunami? Not them, evidently...

And here's something interesting I learned today. Remember back in the 80's I think when Ghaddafi was being a real jerk...we though he was trying to build a nuclear arsenal & we had all the sanctions & stuff against him? Well a few years ago, he decided to forgo building nukes & we dropped the sanctions & he became one of our bestest buddies in the middle east. What a guy!

Here's the downside to that. When he gave up his nuke making abilities, he also lost his..."nuclear deterrent." Remember that? When people don't mess with you because they think you have nukes? When his own people finally got sick of his crap & revolted...we ended up HELPING THEM. Probably because of oil...perhaps because of our misguided attempt to make everybody everywhere a democracy...we are helping to put the smackdown on our former adversary turned bestie.

And guess who's watching this carefully? All the nations who we've been trying to get to give up their nukes. You think North Korea is not going...."see...this is what happens when you give up your "nuclear deterrent!" You haff no levrage! You lafifngstock!

So...in the space of about a month I am totally rethinking my stance on nukes. Bad energy...really bad bombs? Europe today is already reviewing all it's nuclear power plants...Germany totally is suspending construction. But what to do? Build more of these plants and hope for the best? I don't know what the answer is....

Monday, March 21, 2011

'Scuse me...while I kiss this guy...

This is definitely one of the most understood song lyrics of my generation. What Jimi was really saying in this buzzed out acid trippin' song was..."scuse me...while I kiss the sky"...which upon reflection makes about as much sense as the other.

What got me to thinking about song lyrics was my own 30 some year misinterpretation of The Pink Floyd classic Wish You Were Here, in which I have belted out the line twice in concert & countless times in my car at the top of my lungs..."did you exchange, a walk on part in a war, for a leaf grown in a cage?" for the actual line "for a lead role in a cage" which fits in much nicer with the actor metaphor thingy that Roger Waters was going for.

I just found this out recently. I argued with Kbo, no it's "leaf grown in a cage" you silly...till she made me look it up. Damn her! Now I have to unlearn 30 some years of stupidity...and that could be hard for me.

So I sent my crack research team out to find some other common song lyric mistakes from other stupid people and it was...very easy. Here are some for your perusal:

1. Toto--Africa..."I bless the rains down in Africa" became "I left my brains down in Africa..."

2. Bon Jovi--Livin' on a Prayer..."It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not" became "It doesn't make a difference if we're naked or not..."

3. Bob Dylan--Blowin' in the Wind..."The answer my friends etc.etc." became "The ants are my friends, they're blowin' in the wind...the ants are ablowin' in the wind...".

4. J. Geils Band--Centerfold..."My angel is the centerfold" became "My anus is the center hole..."

5. John Denver--Country Roads..."West Virginia, mountain momma" became "West Virginia, mount yer momma..." which seems to fit much better...

6. Creedence Clearwater Revival--Bad Moon..."There's a bad moon on the rise" became "There's a bathroom on the right..."

7. Queen--Bohemian Rhapsody..."Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me" became "The algebra has a devil for a sidekick eeeeeee..." which is just...weird...

Here's my top 3:

8. REM--Losing my Religion..."That's me in the corner, that's me in the spotlight" became "Let's pee in the corner, let's pee in the spotlight..."

9. Robert Palmer--Addicted to Love..."Might as well face it you're addicted to love" became "Might as well face it you're a dick with a glove..."

10. Madonna--Like a Virgin..."Touched for the very 1st time" became "Touched for the 31st time..."

So that's it. I'll just be over here touching myself with a glove while peeing in the corner. Hey...did you just call me a dick?!

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Not...a 3 hour tour...

We have relatives in from Alaska this week & decided to do the long boating trip up to Silver Springs. We've done this trip before, in various boats with various amounts of people. This time in a deck boat (which is like a pontoon but with a hull instead of 2 pontoons) with a 125 HP motor...which cranks along pretty fast. We had 6 3/8 people on board...6 adults, 1 fourteen year old & 2 doggies. We left the dock around 10 AM for the big adventure.

This trip is always a little tricky...you have to go through 2 locks...at Haynes Creek:

and on the Oklawaha:

Going up is a piece of cake but coming back...you have to get back downstream before the locks close for the night. If you dilly dally too much at the Spring, you might have to spend the night in a boat with 6 3/8 people. But I digress. We made it up to the Silver River, where Corey & I went for a pee...I mean swim.

Cruising around at the Spring I saw the old boat underwater:

The glass bottom boats:

And the poo throwing monkeys....which, according to legend, were left over from a Tarzan movie, escaped from a UF Lab...or spawned directly from Satan, which is what I believe:

On the way back I wanted a pic of Aaron & told him to flex his pecs, which prompted Corey to jokingly call me "Uncle Creepy." When I jokingly replied with a leer in my voice "I'll wait till later to look at this" there was an awkward silence & I felt very creepy indeed:

But on to the big finish. Karan's dad, who I shall call Cap'n Ahab, proceeded to tell us that not only were we probably going to be too late for the locks but also...we were low on gas! Ahab apparently miscalculated that 6 3/8 people hauling ass in a boat for a 100 miles in a day might take more time...and fuel. At this point I stopped taking pictures & concentrated on survival. Now I really was eying Aaron creepily, because being younger & more tender he was the 1st one I was going to eat when we resorted to cannibalism.

So we hauled ass to the 1st lock, warily watching the fuel gauge. We had to scream down the Oklawaha & across Lake Griffin to the entrance to Haynes Creek. At this point in the evening, the nice old people & rednecks were strung out in a line in their boats with their cane poles to catch some dinner. After we nearly swamped the 1st few with our wake, they began yelling "fisherman's courtesy!" which caused Ahab to retort with a sneering "go to hell asshole...we gotta make the lock" as he continued racing down the river to a chorus of cursing & shaking fists.

Making it through the last lock by the skin of our teeth, we were on to the next set of challenges...very low fuel & rapidly fading daylight. Now it's dark...and cold...and windy. Children are whimpering, dogs are whining. I am nearly out of beer. But we make to Lake Eustis! I suggest we hug the shore line in case we run out of gas, the wind would blow us ashore & we could find some help. But Ahab has a steely look in his good eye & continues to plow across the lake at about 1 mile per hour.

Did I mention the wind? We crawled across this lake, in the dark, with about a 4' chop. The sea this night was indeed angry. But Ahab thinks we can make it. We limped into the Dora canal on fumes and somehow miraculously made it back to their dock. I am still not certain if Ahab wasn't seeing the gas gauge clearly or what but who cares...we made it back alive!

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Yak...

Did that get your attention? Did you think I had a big hairy cow looking creature in the backyard? No...it's what us slightly older wanna be outdoorsy types call a kayak. It's also sorta my new obsession. I won $1000 on the Super Bowl & decided to actually spend some of it frivolously...to hell with the recession! So I got a new Perception Carolina 12' kayak. Go look at my pics to see for yourself. I love it like it was my own child. I hold it & stroke it's shiny orange hull & dream of shooting class 5 rapids & paddling to Fiji. But mostly I've just been going up & down Wolfbranch Creek behind our house. Fat....guy ...in a ...little boat...

Last Sunday I went to the Wekiva River which is about 15 miles from our house. I drove to the normal spot where I used to put in our old Tandem sit-on-top kayak but it was closed for renovations. So I went to the end of the road to another put-in I have used but they were out of business. Look... I have my new kayak & I am staring at the Wekiva River. To hell with the No Trespassing signs! I'm a rebel dammit!

So I backed my truck up into some trees so as to be out of site of the toofless rednecks in their broken down mobile homes. I apologize to anyone who may resemble that remark. You know who you are. That song from Deliverance was running thru my head. But no one was around so I launched. Oh what extascy! My shiny little sit-in kayak is so nimble & fast. You are so low in the water that you feel like a fish. And no...it wasn't because I'm fat you smartasses.

I paddled swiftly downstream like Daniel Day Lewis in "Last of the Mohicans" except with less hair & about 12 pack abs. I knew that as far downstream I went I would eventually have to paddle back so I planned accordingly. The river was angry that day my friends. Actually it was very calm & nice but I wanted to use that George Costanza line.

From where I started to where I finally turned around I saw...nada. No houses, no boats, no people, no nuttin'. Absolute untouched woodsy wilderness. Now normally this is a kayakers dream, a beautiful river all to myself. I was all relaxed & reveling in my back to nature spiritual woodsy state of mind.

That's when I saw the gigantic stalking gators...
Oh my God. I saw at least 20 gators in this beautiful approximately 2-3 mile stretch of river. The smaller 4-5 footers would stay on their logs sunning themselves & just look at me. But the big boys would crash into the water sounding like a Volkswagen dropped off a building. Very intimidating! And when they dropped into the water your mind starts going...where is he? Is he under water coming my way? Is he going to come up under my kayak & I'm going to have a death match with a 10' gator armed only with my paddle & a flip flop?

I got a stiff neck from looking over my shoulder. I was so relaxed I got a tension headache. I think I peed a little when 1 big gator actually tracked my boat down river for a few minutes which seemed like a few hours. He was only about 40' away. I decided that I had seen enough nature for 1 day so I turned around & paddled for my life back upstream...occasionally glancing back to see if I was in imminent danger of being eaten. But after awhile with no gator jumparoo I relaxed & actually enjoyed my paddle back.

Until my encounter with the aforementioned toofless rednecks...
When I got back near where I put in I hear him holler "Hey boy, is this your truck?" After being drained from all the near death gator stuff I just wasn't up to lying so I said "yes." "This here's private proppity" he says with a sneer. OK dude I think, I'm not here to steal your pit bull or your 78 Camaro. So I pull up & load up my stuff whilst listening to Darryl & his other brother Darryl lecture me about trespassing. No problem I say as I pull away hoping that they would never breed. So that was my excellent first adventure in my new yak.

All in all the gators were much nicer than the rednecks...

Saturday, March 5, 2011

I might have phone envy...

This...is my phone.It is an I530 Nextel from Motorola.

It is also a dinosaur from about the Cretaceous period. My boss pays for this phone so...this is my phone. When I got this phone lo those many years ago I remember thinking...this is a phone AND A WALKIE TALKIE! Unbelievable technology! Being a salesman in the Millwork industry, this was state of the art. Beep Beep, I need some more doors. But now, I'm feeling a little left out. My customers are saying "c'mon man, I can't even text you on that damn thing." And they're right, because my boss doesn't pay for texting. He has a laptop AND an IPad but he doesn't see the need for texting. Did I mention I work for a very old school family business, which through hard work and GREAT SALESMEN has become a major player in the area. They got money...

But then I think of where I started...

I became a salesman in the 80's. No...not the 1880's. Back then, if you wanted to reach me you called my office. Then I would call my office to check to see if you called my office. Then I would call your office, if I wasn't playing golf. Oh those carefree days! Sometimes I was deliriously out of reach. But I knew where every phone booth was in a 20 mile radius. I'm not even going to explain what a phone booth is to you kids...go look it up.

But then came these...the beeper.

And then it was on. I could no longer hide from my customers, or my boss. Beep Beep the damn thing would go. Drive Drive I would go to a phone booth, usually missing the person because they stepped out to smoke or something. That is, if the phone booth actually had a working phone. It was maddening sometimes BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP! But, at least my communication was a little better than before...

But then I got this...a bag phone!

I was Mac Daddy Warbucks coming down the road...talking on a damn telephone! Who ever heard of such a thing? I held one pinkie in the air as I pretended to talk to the Sultan of Oman...or Frank the pesky trim carpenter, who needed more baseboard. I sent you enough...what are you, a beaver?! I could lord over my friends..."Yeah, I'm just cruising down the road & thought I'd give you a ring. Yes, in my car. No, I'm not rich but I do all right etc. etc." I was a King among men...

But then the damnable cell phone showed up, and every Tom, Dick & Mary had a mobile phone. And that's what archeologists will point to as the down fall of our civilization.

Instant communication. People driving around with a phone in one hand a hamburger in the other, driving with their knees. Bobbing & weaving around in their lane. I'm old school...I keep one hand on the wheel & the other on my beer. I'm not going to drive around dangerously...

And now...this. The smart phone. But not smart enough to keep you from getting killed in your car while you're texting your bestie about which hair style Justin Bieber looks hotter in.

But, I must admit...I do get a bit envious. When I'm with a group of friends & they're all laughing & talking while looking at movie trailers or Charlie Sheen's latest rant, sometimes I'll flip open my Nextberry and pretend I'm texting my next multi-million dollar deal while secretly hoping I just didn't place a call to Singapore. When I look at my screen though, it just says NEXTEL, with the time & the day...which is very useful information for me because quite often I don't know...either.

So...that is my personal journey in the evolution of talking on a device that is not a rotary phone. And besides, Karan has an IPhone...which she might let me use when she's not tending her Zombie Farm...

Friday, March 4, 2011

The continuing saga of the "Worlds Worst Neighbor"

This is a true story. The name has been changed to protect the ignorant. You can call him Dimmy Mouthbreatho if you'd like. He is a mullet haired beady eyed 40ish guy with a penchant for tank tops & Doc Maartens. His life is stuck in about 1984. He & his family moved into our neighborhood shortly after we moved into our new house. Not long after, the compound went up. As you can probably guess, there no front yard fences on our street, especially not the stockade type. This made it convenient for him to throw his 3 pit bulls poop over the fence into the neighbors yard. Every morning. This is a pic of Me & Cooper riding by the earliest version of the compound.

This is a nice pic of his pipe that runs his dirty laundry water down his driveway & out into the street. We have called code enforcement & other agencies but nothing seems to stop it. His septic system is so bad he has to have it pumped every few months so he won't run his gray water in there like the rest of us have to. With 2 fat parents & 2 fat kids it's no wonder their system is clogged.

Here is their nasty gray water running down the street. One day, right about in this spot, I saw him pressure washing...the street. For hours. What the hell is he doing I wondered. Later that evening when we took Pepper for a walk we saw F**K YOU etched across the street. That takes some dedication, folks.

Here's a pic of the front of the lot we own (next to our house) that is directly across from his house. For awhile he was burning out his tires in the grass...making sure to stay on the county right of way & not actually on our property because he is a little bitch that way. Eventually the county came out & put up 3 metal posts. Dimmy backed into them & bent them. So the county fixed them. So Dimmy just stole them in the middle of the night. The county has apparently given up.

So here's what I did. I created what we like to call "Dimmy Island." I just don't cut the grass there. He just washes all the crap out of the compound into that spot anyways, I'm not picking it up. You should really see Dimmy Island in the summertime though, it has a much better & taller collection of weeds. Speaking of crap...a bear this week got into their trash & spread it all over our lot. I went down & cleaned it up. As you can tell in the pics, Dimmy keeps his overflowing trash pit on the OUTSIDE of the compound, convenient for Mr. Bear to come again the next damn morning & throw more garbage around our lot. This time I pin a note to their gate "Please clean up your trash. Thanks." I left for work & Karan saw them look at the note and...throw it in the trash. After countless visits by our local Sheriffs dept., we have been advised to let them handle this lunatic. So I called them. The trash got picked up...

This is a pic that is hard to explain, but I'll try. Since he is fighting with every neighbor on every side he decided to lash out. I think, since he thinks that the neighbors are fairly conservative & religious, that this would....frighten them? Make them angry? Who knows. All I know is he trespassed on their property & spray painted their fence. But in his mind, it's his fence. I don't even think he's for Obama. Cops came...did nothing as usual.

But what I didn't realize was how fiendishly diabolical & clever this moron is. He trespassed in the other neighbors yard & did the same thing...only backwards! Oh my God, Satan is loose on our street & is writing backwards all Satanically like! Yeah....Satan is on our street all right. The neighbor on this side finally just moved out. He wore her down...

So...here is what the compound looks like today. The fence is painted where it's easy to reach, and not where it's not. Trash cans still on the outside. Beware of dog signs everywhere. Notice the handy pit bull rope swing hanging from the tree. They come in & out of these gates of hell at least 40 times a day. Squeak, squeak all day long. Did I mention the speeding down the road, tearing down the neighbors "deaf child" sign, loud music, drug deliveries, shining headlights in windows at 5 AM, and in general just the negative vibe of this guy? Oh, and that he doesn't work, seems to have unlimited funds, and everything is in his Mommy's name.

I just ignore him mostly nowadays. You can't have a war with a deranged person, there is no end game. So I just mind my own business....and occasionally let Pepper poop on his grass...

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Your own...personal...jeezy..: Dancing Signs...

Your own...personal...jeezy..: Dancing Signs...: ".Is this country dance crazy or what? 'Dancing with the Stars', 'So You Think You Can Dance', 'Dancing With Your Mom', 'So You Think Your D..."

Your own...personal...jeezy..: My doctor is trying to kill me...

Your own...personal...jeezy..: My doctor is trying to kill me...: " Bathroom humor is too easy...pee pee, caa caa...har de har. But when it's happening to you in real life I think that's fair game... &..."

Dancing Signs...

.Is this country dance crazy or what? "Dancing with the Stars", "So You Think You Can Dance", "Dancing With Your Mom", "So You Think Your Dog Can Dance"...the list goes on and on. You can't change the channel without some long legged blonde doing a backbend & cleaving her cleavage right into your living room...not that there's anything wrong with that. And the guys...there are more tight asses than a Boca old folks home. Not that I was noticing or anything...

But what I am noticing more & more are the...dancing signs. These are the people on street corners who are using large signs to get you to buy their products or services. What genius who ever thought a dancing sign would get me to buy a condo is anybodies guess. Here's some of what I've seen lately:

1. A very demented looking Superman doing MC Hammer dance routines to sell Verizon Wireless.

2. A very Mexican looking Captain America selling T-Mobile. They couldn't maybe find an actual...American?

3. Statue of Liberty tax girls. Nothing gets me to do my taxes faster than some bored goth chick with a torch.

4. Batman oil change. Robin...check that tire pressure & get Alfred on those windshield wipers!

5. The KB Homes dancing person. I have seen many varieties of these sunburned guys & gals doing everything from solo line dances to the pogo. Short, fat, tall, skinny, black, white...KB Homes shows no discrimination in their effort to get you to buy a home because a bouncing sign pointed the way.

Who...are...these...people, Elaine? Are there no better jobs than dancing on the corner as Shrek in 95 degree heat? Doesn't McDonald's pay better than trying to sell pizza dressed as Flash? Do they advertise these jobs in the backs of comic books? Can you really make a living as a Dancing Taco?

About the only time I pay attention is when those sweet teenagers in bikinis from our local high school are doing their annual car wash...and that's only because I am all about the children. And the homeless guys with the cardboard signs...at least there's somebody in this economy that I'm doing better than....

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

My doctor is trying to kill me...

Bathroom humor is too easy...pee pee, caa caa...har de har! But when it's happening to you in real life I think that's fair game...

So apparently my good looking female doctor who I discussed yesterday (finger up butt) is trying to kill me. She gave me 2 scrips for antibiotics & 1 scrip for the dreaded...suppository. I took my 2 pills after dinner & proceeded to inflict myself with this small white torpedo of hydrocortisone.When I came gingerly walking out of the bathroom clenching my buns for all their worth I caught Karans face. We both literally fell to the floor laughing with tears. Of course, mine were tears of laughter mixed with tears of foreign objects in my nether regions. But all was well until...

This morning.

I am a well oiled machine. After my first cup of coffee while reading the paper I visit my throne & proceed to do my business. Every day. Like clockwork. No problemo. So this morning I took 2 sections of the newspaper in with me, just in case. I am halfway thru the Sports section when it hits me...Houston...we have a problem. The well oiled machine is locked up. Now, my brain & my stomach are sending the proper signals to the gate keeper, but he won't open the damn gate! Uh oh...

I remain calm. Give it some time. So I finish Sports & move on to City & State. Aaaargh....nothin! I start doing yoga moves, lifting 1 bun & then the other, like a wave of cheering fans at the Super Bowl. I dare not strain, that may be part of the problem in the first place. The torpedo from last night is apparently a dud & is blocking the missile silo. My lip is perspiring. I am out of newspaper. My butt hurts. I decide to signal the control center to abort the mission. They are none too happy about this.

I walk out of the bathroom humped over back towards my recliner & my coffee. I guzzle lukewarm coffee to hopefully get the system back up & running. Karan gives me a quizzical look as I hunch back to the bathroom. So without getting too graphic, I finally achieved liftoff. Butt* it nearly kilt me. So I go look at my medicine bottles & lo and behold one clearly says "MAY CAUSE CONSTIPATION." What in thee hell...my doctor has me inserting things in my back door and then....locking the door!

So.....I'll finish by saying I installed another missile in the silo before heading to work. My doctor knows best, right? And right now, as I sit here typing this, I feel the ominous glow of it's presence...lurking in my sphincter. Will tomorrow be a fantastic splashdown after low earth orbit or another scrubbed launch? We shall see...