Being Lazy

Contrary to popular belief, it is not so easy to be lazy. Being truly proficient at lethargy takes years of practice and intense concentration. So many people do not harness the true power of laziness. They spend their lives fighting the inevitability of it by performing yard work, having a paying job, having kids, and shoveling snow, blah, blah, blah. Somehow they delude themselves that doing something, any something, is somehow better than doing nothing. They are so wrong. A certain amount of loafing or as I call it, screwin the pooch, is a necessary and integral part of making a safe and sane passage from the cradle to the grave.

I have proven laziness as a viable and often healthier alternative to being fruitful by my many years of slothful introspection. Being lazy is as important as being the busy beaver. And there is no question about striking a balance between the two. When in doubt about whether to be a worker bee or a slug, always consider the slug first. 

If one wants to really understand the total bliss of laziness without the guilt that usually comes along for the ride, one needs to develop a mindset that assures whatever needs doing today will still need doing tomorrow; so why not put it off until tomorrow? If we skip it today, that which needs doing today ensures our schedule stays full with at least one task that justifies our commitment to laziness. We suffer no empty days if there is always a chore undone. 

Undoing and rescheduling the "to do list" can be a daunting task. One must relax and clear their mind in order to do it right. Doing nothing seems the best approach to make this happen. Over thinking the best way to be lazy quickly becomes counterproductive to keeping one's sphincter un-clinched. Don't agonize, people die stressing too much. A blank mind is almost always the best approach.

It appears I have a natural innate talent for intense torpidity. There is a path of little resistance between my productive mindset and Mike, the couch potato: especially now that I am retired. Convenient excuses to skip work are popping up more and more the older I get. With so much effort put in over the years pursuing laziness, I now can enjoy it without as much shame as I heaped on my shoulders in years past. 

The problem is, now I would like to tip the balance between fruitful behavior and couch potato more to the fruitful side. Because of chronic inactivity in recent years, my body has not been up to the task. But it is beginning to turn around. 

Bottom line here is, ........ no matter which way I live, I will end up dead. So enjoying Life is the main point no matter which way I lean. Any anguishing I might have tortured myself with in years past, well, that was wasted time; which is the worse thing I could do. Way worse than doing nothing.

A parting thought here as I get ready to close this post:

If we were not designed to be lazy, why then did we invent hammocks?

 Keep it 'tween the ditches .............................................................

_____________________

Tough job picking music associated with being lazy. The first one I picked, "Daydream" by The Lovin Spoonful I thought would be it. But I felt in order to be fair, I needed to continue a token search. A song by a group I lost touch with over the years jumped out at me and forced my hairs to stand on end. "Lazy" on the album "Machine Head" by Deep Purple brought me instantly back to a concert at the DAR Hall in Washington DC when I was really younger and quite a few IQ points dumber.

The concert for me was the poster child perfect concert from the early 1970s. The band played hard and long. The crowd of stoned out freaks danced their way into a frenzy and suddenly I was on the stage stumbling around in time to "Lazy". I blacked out shortly thereafter awakening at dark thirty in the morning locked in a stairwell at the concert hall. My friends had abandoned me.

I got the last laugh though. They were pulled over for driving erratically. They were so out of it, they spent the night in a DC jail and had to have parents pick them up later that next day. Me, well about 10 AM, a janitor found and released me from my own personal Hell in the stairwell. All the way home on the bus, I cursed my friends and conjured up payback of varying levels and intensities. 

Useless People

If any recent action by the GOP proves they have no plan for the country other than Anti-Woke performative politics, their recent righteous indignation over changing the senate's dress code proves it. They are not interested in the flagrant illegalities of Trump or any other issue that truly affects this country. No ........... They are up in arms over Sen. Schumer changing the Senate dress code.

Our own useless Senator from Maine, Susan Collins, who has been keeping her head down in recent months, perked up and said yesterday (Monday):

"I plan to wear a bikini tomorrow to the Senate floor and [Sen.] Chris Coons [D-DE] is gonna wear shorts because there's no dress code anymore,"

Asked why the change bothered her, Collins fell back into her GOP lackey role and replied: 

"Because I think there is a certain dignity that we should be maintaining in the Senate, and to do away with the dress code, to me, debases the institution."

Who is she kidding? Changing the dress code debases the Senate? 

Sorry sweetheart, the debasement, as you put it, happened  the moment you Republican clowns embraced Donald Trump as your hero. The Right has done nothing but debase everything good about America ever since. They are slime and I hope to live long enough to see their party go belly up and die as a political force in this country.

Go fuck yourself Susan.

Okay, I feel better. Nobody besides Trump gets me wound up as much as Susan Collins does. She is a sad excuse for a leader. It's no surprise she is a Republican.

Later ................................................

________________________

"Only a Fool Would Say That", by Steely Dan, is a song that targets John Lennon. Reportedly, Donald Fagan was not impressed with John Lennon's  1971 album, "Imagine". As it turns out, neither was I. My disdain was ignored, but Fagan wrote "Only a Fool...." about his disdain. As usual with any Steely Dan tune, it is top notch music and better now than when it came out back in the day.

When the Deluded Eat 'Ludes

I promised myself, which I presume also includes anyone who might stumble across my blog,.... Uh, yeah I promised myself to not post about Trump. If I couldn't, it better be a rare moment of madness and be over quickly. Any words written about the Orange Puke are wasted moments for me.

Well, this is one of those rare moments. It happened too soon after I made the vow to myself. But there it is, The Orange Asshole owns a part of my brain. It will be awhile before he doesn't. 

I ran across this quote that referred to the Donald's cognitive abilities. 

The quote speaks for itself and succinctly exposes Trump's failure to lock into reality. His steadfast refusal to take responsibility for anything indicates he has been taken over by a Napoleonic delusion of grandeur. He is acting like a delusional mental ward escapee who ate some Qualudes and is now insisting from his soap box he is right and the majority of people are wrong.

The Emperor has no clothes and Trump along with his slacked jaw minions just do not care. They are determined to inject their fear mongering madness into our country's soul. They seem intent on destroying with no thought as to what might replace it.

Two or three years ago, I decided that on occasion any healthy political system needs to be challenged and challenged hard. With that in mind it seems our system of government has had at least one serious self inflicted challenge in each of the centuries it has existed. 

In the 1800's, it was the Civil War and Westward Expansion. In the 1900's, it was two World Wars followed by opposing ideologies fighting for prominence in the 1950's, 60's and 70's. And now we have our first real self inflicted threat of this 21st century and I see it as a doozy. I am still hoping we can weather the latest and near future madness and come out on the other side none the worse for wear. In the meantime, I won't hold my breath.

There will always be challenges and moments of chaos. We need them to keep our system healthy and as honest as possible. These chaotic moments need to play out. Each time we defeat the assholes intent on trying to divert our country from the path our forefathers set us on, we increase the likelihood that the next challenge will be easier to face. 

There is no bigger threat to our way of life than the threats from within our own borders.  We are our own worse enemy. 

Keep it 'tween the ditches ................................

____________________

I picked this Metal song from Sprung Monkey because first and foremost, I like it. Most likely many who fire it up will not like it. ..................Oh well.

“White Trash” lyrics

Well you act like I should know you
Yes you act like I should care
Abrasive in your actions
Throwing your style everywhere
White trash, low cash thieving lying ignorance
One time, last time
You are not my f**king friend
No you are not my friend
Well you act like I should know you
Yes you act like I should care

Abrasive in your actions
Throwing your style everywhere
White trash, low cash thieving lying ignorance
One time, last time
You are not my f**king friend
No you are not my friend
I can see you are heading right straight into nothing
No you are not my friend
No you are not my friend

Eating Out

My wife and I went on a much needed re-supply run to Market Basket down to Rochester, NH yesterday. There was nothing unusual about it other than it had been 4 weeks since we hit a grocery store. Our usual food shopping rhythm is two weeks, sometimes three. Needless to say we were out of not just the basics, but many of the miscellaneous support foodstuffs that help keep our diet from being too boring.

Neither my wife nor I are "shoppers" like the folks who knock down Walmart greeters on Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving. We shop because we have to. We don't hate it. We just see it as another needed chore that is best done quickly and then forgotten until the next time we need to refill our larder with the common foods found in American homes where folks still cook meals on occasion.

 Our normal grocery shopping routine is to hit Market Basket after 5:00 PM on a weekday. The place is not so jammed up with antsy, obnoxious customers who think they are the only customers in the store. But before we shop, we always hit a fast food place so we don't carry our hunger in with us to the grocery store.

Yesterday, we switched gears and went to a sit down restaurant with a waitstaff and porcelain plates. It was the 110 Grill, one of those chain satellite restaurants that locate near bigger chain anchor stores like Walmart, Target, and the New Hampshire Liquor stores,...... You get my point.

Over the years I have had mixed feelings about eateries of any kind. I ran into so many bad food experiences when I was driving trucks over the road, I came to rely on chain restaurants of one kind or another. The food was more likely to be consistent no matter where I was. For a long time the only meal I bought at McDonalds usually consisted of  2 fish sandwiches, small fries, and a coffee. I lived on them and sometimes the fare of various truck stops I had learned to trust.

So I was wary when we walked into the 110 Grill. I walked out a happy and content man. The menu was basic with not too many choices. The food was very tasty and the service was excellent. Best of all, the cost was reasonable.

I had a sausage burger with their sauce on it and their version of onion rings on the side. Both were unique and tasty. I also had their signature beer. Forget the name, but it was also very good. My wife had a cheeseburger and fries. She came away very pleased. Portions were decent and in the case of my sandwich, it was not the usual fare. I really liked it.

All in all, I would recommend the 110 Grill to anyone traveling in New England or upstate New York along the Mohawk Trail. And if you have allergies or that concerns you, 110 Grill is supposedly one of the Top 10 allergy aware restaurants out there. The waitress made a point of asking us twice if we had any allergies they should be aware of.

Next time I plan to pony up for a steak, .......... medium rare.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ......................................

______________________________

Tough one to pick appropriate music for. I did find one song that kinda, sorta, fits. Please enjoy "Johnston's Grocery Store", by Lost and Fund, a traditional bluegrass band. Never heard of them, but I should have. They are a damn good.

Flying Under My Radar

Just when I think I am pretty aware of the political chaos swirling around us here in the States, I am once again humbled by news I should have paid attention to long before I was made aware of it now. I am referring this time to Alex Stokes, who was arrested on Jan.6, 2021 at a demonstration not in DC, but in front of the state capitol in Albany, New York. His arrest led to a trial where he was sentenced to 20 years in prison. His story was overwhelmed and lost in all the outrage over what transpired in DC on the same day he was arrested in Albany. 

I could re-cap the events of that day. Instead here is a video that mostly covers the events that went down in front of the NY state Capitol at the same time the traitors in DC were staging an assault on the US Capitol. 

The video clearly shows the MAGA aggressors, some armed with sticks and flag poles, initiated the stupidity. The Assault with a dangerous weapon charges came about because Alex defended himself with a knife when he was set on by a very aggressive Proud Boy.

Nobody died at this demonstration. While both the Right Wing demonstrators and a smaller crowd of Left Wing counter protesters clashed, it was members of the Left the police unjustly targeted the most once the melee had played itself out.

Meanwhile, in Washington DC, 360 miles away, Trump's army of over 2000 thugs and traitors attempted a violent coup on the steps of the US Capitol. People died and property damages were in the millions of dollars. Most of those who faced charges in court later would most likely receive probation or minimal time in jail.

I know Life is not fair. But when it is blatantly this unfair, people need to know about it. If you have interest in helping Alex, check out this site, The Anti-Fascist Defence Fund. Donations clearly marked for Alex will be passed on to the appeal efforts to free him.

Considering the limp wristed sentences passed out for the Capitol Traitors, Alex's sentence is a tragic travesty of Justice. 

More about Alex Stokes HERE and HERE 

Later ...............................................

______________________

Music tonight is brought to you by The Cranberries and their song, "Zombie". Pushed to wow is the recommended volume. But you decide.

First Legal Doob

The other day I bought my first legal joint from a cannabis store in Lebanon, Maine. And though pot has been legal in Maine since the election in November of 2016, it felt very odd to walk into a store and come out with weed. .............. Really odd.

Since I have grown my own Doob for years, I seldom had need to try commercial weed. I wanted to check out how buying Doob over the counter would go. I brought a friend along who was well versed in most of the pot shops within a 40 mile radius. As it turned out he was less than useless other than being able to put pins in the atlas. But we had some fun when we got back to his place.

The shop I picked was on the border with New Hampshire. I walked in the front door, which in any other building would have been the side door. It opened into what looked like a very small waiting room one might find at any doctor or dentist's office. There was a window over a counter with a slot under it. Behind the glass sat a gregarious young man who asked me first:

"Is this your first time visiting us here at East Coast Cannabis?"

How did he know? I smiled though and told him it was. He asked for some ID. I slid my license through the slot. He took a picture of it and slid it back through the slot. He then gave me a well worn spiel of how this visit would go down. 

He pushed a button that released the next door and I proceeded into the main store. The showroom was small, maybe 100 sq feet. It was new, cool, and hip people waited behind a counter to sell me whatever I could want in the way of Cannabis products. Well, as it turned out, they did not sell seeds. Mentally, I scratched them off my list of future visits. There was absolutely no bud, or as they refer to it at the store, no flower anywhere to be seen. I was directed to two flat screens hanging on a wall. A multitude of pot strains were listed with their price per quarter ounce, eighth ounce, and rolled joints, blunts and regular. Prices seem to be based on THC content. I looked the choices over, picked a pre-rolled blunt with a claimed THC content of 34% and proceeded to the cash register.

Before I could tell the neo hippie behind the counter what I wanted, he immediately began what was a another well worn spiel he had to give before selling. It went something like:

"We only accept cash, so if you need an ATM, there is one outside at the far end of the building. We do allow you to inspect any product we sell, just let us know what to fetch from the back. There is no removing the flower from the sealed containers for a sniff or a squeeze. All sales are final .......... Now, how can I help you."

All business and professional to this point until I told him my choice, "White Truffle Avalanche".

"You know sir, the Avalanche has a 34% THC level. It is fortified with kief. Maybe for your first visit you might want to pick, oh, maybe the "Pure Durban" or "Blue Gelatti". 

I stopped him before he could name any other strains available. And because he called me "Sir" with hint of condescension, I said:

"Son, how old are you?'

He looked startled. 

"Uh what? How old am I, uh well if it matters, I'm 29."

"Well, I've been smoking pot twice as long as you have been alive. I began growing it in college and then  grew it off and on until this year. I long ago learned to school myself regarding the drugs I ingested. I doubt seriously the "Avalanche" is going to make me cry for my momma or send me to the ER."

He said nothing. His face hardened and he stepped back. "I will be right back with your pre-roll."

He came back with the pre-roll inisde a little glass tube with a cork stuffed in it. My first thought was, "No wonder this joint costs $15.45."

He slipped the pre-roll into a black zip lock bag. I gave him a twenty, got my change and I left.

All in all, if this first experience is any indication of what I can expect if I ever visit another Recreational retail pot shop, I will not be visiting many of them again and actually spending money unless they have seeds to sell. That is my next quest; to find seeds produced in Maine. It would be wonderful to not be paying some outfit in the Netherlands each year.

The verdict on the kief enhanced "White Truffle Avalanche" was a big ho hum, underwhelmed reaction from both my friend and myself. It was certainly good pot. No doubt about that. But neither my friend nor I found it to be worth $15.45. That's okay. I threw some support to a local pot shop and later enjoyed a nice buzz. 

Keep it tween the ditches ......................................

___________________

I thought of the song for this post before I wrote it. This song was an anthem for a small group of heads I often shared joints with back in the day we had all our teeth and all our hair (well except from Tommy, he was bald at age 18 before he even went to college).

Here is "Don't Bogart Me", by Fraternity of Man from the 1969 movie "Easy Rider".

The Traveling Wall

Between the ages of 7 and 15, I spent most of that time living in and around Washington DC. As a small punk, I first rode my bike from Chevy Chase to the Smithsonian when I was in second grade. From then on my friends and I spent many hours using the federal triangle as our own personal playground. There not many rules we wouldn't break.

I was such a fixture around the reflecting pool one summer, some of the park police knew my name, having chased and sometimes caught me and friends who were out and about adding our bit of madness to the mania that is DC in the summer.

We knew the federal triangle well and the reflecting pool area even better. We used to race up the stairs of the Washington Monument. Whoever won both directions was a stud until the next time we came.

To this day, the one monument that makes me cry every time is the Vietnam Memorial. I have always felt if there is one site that needs to be seen when visiting as a tourist, it is the Vietnam Memorial. It is one of the top five most visited memorials down there. I know of no one who has walked the length of that memorial and come out unaffected. 

No matter what might be going on around it, the mood is always somber and respectful as people and families search for a loved one or friend whose name has been chiseled into the black granite walls. It is a place for quiet consideration and introspection.

The impact of over 58,000 names carved in marble is often overwhelming. Some folks cry their eyes out, while others stand mute,head down. Families cluster here and there while Grandpa or Uncle Hank rub the name of a loved one or fellow soldier who did not make it home.

So, it is odd that I did not know the wall has also been on the road since 1996. Yes, a 3/4 size version of the wall is traveling around the USA for folks who may not have seen it. It is here in Sanford, Maine. It will be here til Sunday, September 10th.

I will be sure to visit it.

________________

There is only one song that is my "Vietnam" song. Here is "Fortunate Son", by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

American Exceptionalism

American Exceptionalism was and still is the primary drive of the history lessons taught in American schools.  It is not unusual.  Any country harboring international intentions seems to push chauvinistic versions of their past and their plans for the future in order to reinforce how special their country is compared to the neighbors, allies, and enemies spread around the Globe. We have convinced ourselves that America is the most altruistic, fair, and benevolent country on the planet. We always use our power for good, not evil.

Bullshit. The primary purpose of our "altruism" is to enhance our position on the geopolitical landscape. Self interest is the lily we gild with a multitude of noble claims like so much filigree on a lace doily. 

The perception of what is evil and what is not is in the eye of the beholder. Most foreign policies are amoral agendas wrapped in the propaganda of nationalism. Most foreign policy is exploitative in nature and designed to reap rewards that benefit the benefactor in some way, if not in every way. Seldom does a country help a neighbor without an unspoken agenda or expectation of reciprocity in the future. Influence, riches, or market access are often the end games.

We Americans have convinced ourselves the USA is the greatest country in the World. To question that notion is unpatriotic.  If so, then I guess I am unpatriotic.  We are not that great and since Trump squatted in the White House, our position in the hierarchy of world leaders has plummeted. We are now nothing but a huge collection of fifty banana republics. If one political group has their way, this trend will continue in our foreseeable future.

Americans, like the British before them equate power to greatness.  If one is only using economic and/or military factors as their barometer, then yes, America was and and still might be a great country.  To me, the word "Great" is much more than just economic and military might. A great country first needs to fill the needs of its populations without exploitation. And in that respect, America is failing miserably, contrary to the publicly spewed Rah, Rah America bullshit; the worst of which is generated on the political Right.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .........................................

_________________

While this song is not directly about American Exceptionalism. It is certainly about one of the building blocks America has used to build our overblown opinion of ourselves. Here is Bruce Hornsby and  "The Way It Is". It is his critical look at Civil Rights in this country. I love the way this guy plays the piano.

___________________

* Image at top is, and I am guessing, a political cartoon from around the turn of the last century when America began to really flex its geopolitical muscles.

National No Rhyme or Reason Day

Today is National "No Rhyme or Reason Day". With the deepest of respect for today, I am posting images that have nothing to do with the post other than they are nice pictures taken in town earlier this summer.

Nowhere can I find universal agreement on what exactly the day is all about. I know it is dedicated to the idiosyncrasies of the English language. I guess we are supposed to embrace the odd words, words that don't rhyme, like orange, and generally have fun mucking up the mother tongue because all the grammar Nazi's started their long weekend yesterday.

I have always liked words and enjoyed adding new ones to my vocabulary when the opportunity pops up. I especially like learning new twists on words that give them newer and more fun meanings. 

Take the word "Seppo". 

An Australian family moved in across the street from us when we lived on Roosevelt Street in Bethesda, Maryland back in the early-ish 1960s. The dad was part of the Australian diplomatic crew based down on Embassy Row deep inside Washington, DC. I became friends first with their son, Mike, and then with the rest of the family. 

Mr Booker was a big fellow with a thick Aussie accent. On weekends when he loosened his tie, he would drink beer. Not just a beer, nor a normal sized beer. He would start at noon on Saturday and start chugging big cans of Foster's lager, which he felt was the only decent beer in the United States.

Once he got tuned up some, his careful diplomatic cover would fail him and he would often start in ranting and raving about the "God Damned Seppos". Usually when he got like this Mike and I would find somewhere else to be, but one day I was invited to an afternoon hoe down where all the adults sat around and watched Mr. Booker chug Foster's and chase shrimp around his barbie. 

Since this huge man seemed in a good mood, I marshaled up some balls and asked him what a Seppo was and why did he seem to hate them so much. He explained to me that he didn't hate Seppos, they just drove him crazy in his job. He went on to tell me that a Seppo was an Aussie term for Americans. It was used as a term of endearment and also a term of derision. It depended on the situation. 

"But why Seppo?"

"Well, Seppos are what we call septic tanks in Australia. Don't know why we call Americans septic tanks? We just do...... Maybe its because we think it is more polite to use Seppo than call you Americans Assholes".

Aussie civility at its best.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .....................................

______________________

No rhyme or Reason day indicates I should pick a song that is totally from left field. Today, its "Hey Nineteen", by Steely Dan. Enjoyed best at a mellower volume I think.

 

Buried Racial Hatred

Events exposing buried racial hatred are on the increase. They are no longer just occasional moments of ugliness scattered here and there in the USA. They have become a pervasive part of our new political and social landscape.

We all knew the hate and discontent was there, but as long as folks kept their irrational angers,fears, and prejudices to themselves and others of like mind, the country was cool with it. We were content to allow it to steep, slowly build to a boil and erupt from time to time in a sporadic moment of insanity. What were once occasional fits of madness are now regular events found in every corner of the nation.

The intolerance that is still part of us has exposed itself and is fitting into and changing the social and political landscape to something looking very much uglier and meaner than what we were used to back in the last quarter of the 20th century. 

Our shift from a more tolerant and civil society into the anxious, fearful and hateful society we seem trapped in now began with 9-1-1. That is when most of us were knocked off our centers and many of us began to embrace more radical outlooks on the world as we knew it. Dormant negatives of our character rushed in to play a more dominant role in our response to everything. The world around us had not changed as much as our view of it had. This enabled the ever ready purveyors of sleaze and evil to push their agendas by using lies and exaggerations to enhance our fear and foreboding. 

I am reminded of this by an incident that played out in April, 2023 in Jonesboro, a town up Downeast Maine on the coast. After firing some shots in the air a man  named O'Brien, verbally accosted an interracial couple who were walking their dog on the private road that passed O'Brien's house.

The quote that struck me and indicated how emboldened the closet racists have become was:

"O’Brien added that he ‘should be able to get away with shooting one [racial epithet] as long as he didn’t have to bring him in to tag him,’ ......... "

Because of the obvious racist factor of this interaction, the Maine State Attorney General jumped on it and the man was found guilty of a crime. Since no physical violence actually occurred, at least the man was convicted and the crime made the news.  Good outcome I guess, but I would like to have seen Mr. O'Brien be charged with a felony, not a misdemeanor.

The sad part though, is the realization that racial , gender, and social bias run deeper and are more widespread than even I had thought. I thought our country was heading in the right direction. Now, I am not so sure. Seems all we did was bury our hate just deep enough to not be seen and shallow enough that it did not take much to whip it out to reveal our true selves. 

 When the pervasive evil and hate we embrace now finally peaks, we are in for a long period of recovery once we are on the other side. I don't think the self inflicted damage to our nation is fatal. I prefer to consider what we are going through as a necessary purging and relocation of our center. Where that center ends up depends on how many of us actually give a fuck.

Later ..............................................

________________________

Marvin Gaye's song, "What's Goin On", seems a natural fit for this post. At least for me it is. The song evokes a sense of bewilderment about Life at that moment. I am certainly bewildered about what's goin on.

99 Words on Weather

Yesterday, Jacki Sue in Texas, mentioned on Facebook she was enjoying a rainstorm for the first time in months.

Comments from other mid-western areas and one from California talked about droughts and intense temperatures that plagued their locales.

I made no comment. I just couldn’t.

Summer in Maine has been different, but not as different as elsewhere in the country. Temperatures and humidity are higher, but tolerable. If anything, we have had more rain this summer than usual. My basement had water in it until mid-July.

Mother Nature’s capricious use of her wrath just proves Life is not fair.

___________________

The first tune I checked out was my only choice. It's the video that really makes the tune work. Here is an instrumental by Annemieke van Leeuwen. It is called "Mother Nature's Anger".

Sadly, just the Same Shit, Different Day

I guess there was another mass shooting yesterday down in Jacksonville, Florida.

 ........ SSDD. 

I would have missed it until tomorrow except I watched the head cop from Jacksonville give his blow by blow version of the tragedy that unfolded. The whole incident only took 11 minutes he said. In that 11 minutes, 4 people lost their lives to gun violence. Throw in the racial motive to the mix and what we have is just another garden variety - white people acting badly against those folks they harbor some kind of clueless and senseless hatred for.

I would not even be posting about it except I was struck by something Sheriff T.K. Waters said while defending the Gun Rights side of the out of control gun stupidity we have going on right now. Don't get me wrong, I think folks should be allowed to own guns, if only because there are so many guns already loose in the hands of our citizens , any law that might be passed restricting them would not work and just anger the crotch tugging NRA boneheads even more.

The sheriff was asked if there had been any red flags raised by this 20 something racist before the shootings. He said the kid had no record and no indications of mental illness. The guns used had been purchased legally. He went on to defend the gun lobbies by saying basically it wasn't the guns that killed those folks, rather it was the madman behind the gun. I am so tired or hearing this kind of mealy mouthed response to the other mealy mouthed accusations from the anti gun crowd. Neither side seems able to even consider some kind of compromise to make our streets a tad safer. All or nothing for both of them.

Sheriiff Waters was then asked another of the stupid questions the media always asks in the immediate aftermath of an incident like this. 

"Was there anything that could have been done to have kept this from happening?' 

A look of exasperation came over his face. Then he said, "We did everything we could,' quickly following up with, "We do everything we can".

I call bullshit. The sheriff is wrong. The powers that be are not doing what they can to create safer spaces for us to live in. Law enforcement is a reactionary force, not a preemptive force. Any preemptive measures have to be created in the legislatures, state and national. Cops clean up messes, they don't stop them from happening. Only education, public support and common sense shown by both sides will slow down the madness.

The Gun totin assholes who consider owning guns as the true sign of freedom have not done shit to get some control of a situation that has been totally out of control since the day buying assault rifles were once again allowed to be owned by idiots whose only knowledge of guns came from TV and Internet Games. So spare me the crap about its not the gun, its the person shooting the gun. Stop claiming that if we pass laws the problem will fix itself. Both sides of this issue have their respective heads up their respective asses.

Later ...........................

____________________________

"Another One Bites the Dust", by Queen seems appropriate. But then so does The Avett Brothers and their more up to date, "Bang, Bang" really nails my current feelings about the stupidity surrounding guns.

A Tale of Two Knives

I guess I was given my first pen knife when I was five or six. If memory serves, it is the small broken one I saved and is now on the wall over my work bench in the basement. It just wasn't rugged enough for my clueless and brutal treatment of it as a youngster.

I have consistently had a pocket knife of some kind on my person ever since. I have gone through an impressive number and different types of knives over the years. Some I broke trying to force the knife to punch above its weight. But I think most of the knives I have owned, I lost or they were stolen. ....... I know it was You, Bob W., who stole my brand new Leatherman back in the mid 1980's. You're an asshole Bob. I hope it broke on you, you low life.

So anyway, I have owned many blades. "Shrade" and its subsidiary "Uncle Henry" were and still are my favorite pocket knives. Uncle Henry knives had a "Lose it, Free Replacement" policy I took advantage of several times over the years.

The knife in the image on the right I bought in the late 1980's down to Springvale Hardware. I bought it because it was the perfect length to cut up 3" foam insulation. At 35 plus years old, it was showing some wear. 

About six weeks ago I was sure I had finally lost this knife also. 

It had been MIA since ....... well, a long time. I decided I would try to find another new one............... Problem ....... Shrade stopped manufacturing them 20 plus years ago. I hit the used market on eBay and found an outfit selling knives that had been confiscated at airports in the Lone Star State. I spotted the one on the left, ordered it, paid too much and 3 days later it landed on my doorstep.

Five minutes, maybe ten minutes later I found the old friend in a spot that defied logic. I must have been flying high when I decided a bookshelf 7 feet off the ground was a good spot to leave my knife. But there it was and now I have twins. ........... 

The one I bought out of Texas looks better, but it actually is not as solid as my old friend. The blade is a tad sloppy and it came through with an edge that had been insulted with a grinding wheel. Almost looked like saw blades. Took me some time to hand hone it into some semblance of usable dignity. I think it winked at me when I was done.

After I was finished with the new arrival, I touched up the edge on my old friend. I don't think I have ever seen it with a sharper edge. 

Nothing quite like a freshly sharpened blade to make a young boy smile.

Later .................................

_____________________

Only one song came to mind. I owned this song on a 45 RPM record I special ordered at a record store in Tampa, Florida. Please enjoy "Mack the Knife" by Bobby Darin from 1958. Turned up to Wow is the best level.

The Noise of Mass Insanity

I haven't posted much lately because well, I have had more to say than I could sort out and make sense enough of  to not come across as an over the edge wacka-doodle who is sure we are all fucked with no help in sight. 

Imagine a dirty, scruffy old man with a long beard, whose out of control mullet hairdo gives the impression he might just be a retired Tweaker who survived many years in a Meth Lab. He is clothed in what once may have been a nice bathrobe and is standing on a wooden soap box in Central Park. 

Through missing and rotted teeth, he verbally accosts anyone who happens by with doomsday predictions about where their souls will end up if they don't bring Jesus into their hearts. The man's eyes will take on a glow as he beseeches the Lord with upraised arms to use his mighty wrath and smite these sinful heathens down so that only the blessed and faithful will be around for the Rapture. ....................

Yeah, that is how I see myself when I want to write lately about anything remotely political or religious. 

There is so much rabid stupidity floating around everywhere in this country, the sane among us have turned off, or at least turned down the moronic rhetoric that is poisoning our interactions with each other. And though the media knows that most of us are tired of the nonsense, they continue to pile the useless and destructive bullshit on us 24/7, day in, day out. 

Yeah, I could turn off the noise, and frankly I have turned it off to the best of my ability. But it is hard to not at least peek at the million car pile up that is our country at the moment. I sure hope some sanity returns before I leave this rock full of assholes. ........ I won't hold my breath.

Ferchrisakes people;

 What about "Keepin it 'tween the Ditches" do you not understand?

____________________________

So what music might go with the mass insanity that is playing out coast to coast here in the USA? ....Hmm...........

A song written over 50 years ago for a different set of problems is still pertinent to the insanity we put ourselves through today. My whole life has been filled with people pissing on each other's shoes, blaming each other for the sadness and hurt that was mostly self inflicted.

It is not me, it is them. ...........When it's really all of us group groping our way to planet wide suicide if we don't watch out.

Here is "For What Its Worth", Buffalo Springfield, released in 1966 I think.

The Final Touche'

Caleb and a small crew showed up this morning at 7:30 AM. There wasn't much left to do on the new septic system but some aesthetic touches - reseeding the back yard and the path the trucks chewed up as they came and went.

While Caleb walked around with huge pruning shears, nipping off the few small roots that had managed to escape to the light of day, one of his crew walked around with a seed spreader flinging out the seeds that would create the new back yard. 

Caleb backed a low trailer piled high with bales of straw and what I assumed was a machine that spread the straw. By 8:00 AM, they were done and out of our yard forever. 

At 9:30 AM the predicted rain came. A steady, wind free rain; the kind of soaker seeds need to get started.

I am impressed with the job Caleb and his crew did. They had to work around a lot of rain, which created intractable conditions for several days. There were unforeseen glitches Caleb took in stride and handled. No whining, No excuses, he just kept at it and made the whole thing easy for us to deal with. 

The folks who make up "Caleb Chessie Excavation" are a credit to their profession. 

Later ............................

________________________

Joe Cocker is always able to cover famous tunes and end up owning them by the time the song ends. Please enjoy his cover of " Don't Let Me be Misunderstood".

Days 3 & 4 - Back on Track & Done

Having spent a good number of years laboring in the building trades, I am well aware of the unforeseen hiccups that can plague a work site. 

The hit our well casing took is one such hiccup, as is the extra material Caleb had to bring in to build a passable path for the many 10 yard dump loads of material that was needed to first clear out the crap and then fill it back in with new crushed stone and sand. 

There has been a constant stream of 10 wheeler dump trucks. Caleb keeps his equipment clean and sharp looking. He has at a Peterbilt and a Kenworth, both with tag axles. Nice looking trucks that are packing some classy touches and bling.

I saw our hawk today while the crew was on lunch break. I spotted it sitting in a tree overlooking the new leach field. Excellent. A good sign I think. When we get the clover and indigenous wild flowers covering things, there will be some good hunting ground while affording the smaller critters some cover, evening up the odds a tad.

When the new site plan was drawn up, the engineer who designed the system, called for the pipe exiting the house to be raised at least 12 inches to insure a better pitch than the old one had. Not sure what the big deal was, the old system was not prone to backing up. Regardless, it was a "must do", and it was done. 

Memories of the various glitches of the first few days melted away as Caleb and his guys finished around 4:30 yesterday afternoon. There's some minor this and that still left, but we are now pooping in a new, larger, up to date, CEO approved and ready to rock septic system. 

Keep it 'tween the ditches ...................................

_______________________

I am too beat to think about what tune to add. So.......... Here is "All along the Watchtower" as played by musicians from all over the planet.......... "Playing for Change". Again, on this version, it is a hard rule that the volume needs to be close to "Max", or all the way to "Hurt", then dialed back a notch.

Enjoy!

Day Two - First Glitch

After all the progress on Day 1, at the end of it, the excavator backed into my well casing. The impact cracked the casing at the junction of the first two pieces.

Surprisingly, I was not upset at all. Shit happens, and the approach to the back yard is tight. Caleb assured me he would take care of it.  And he did. He called Southern Maine Pump and the guy came out and welded the casing ASAP.

At this point of the process of replacing one septic system for a new and improved one, all I thought about was the process. I was just another rubber necker blinded by the show that is excavation.

Yesterday afternoon as I sat on my bucket bench out back next to the compost pile, I sparked up a doob and contemplated the awesome display of terra-forming taking place on the other side of the rock wall. I do not know exactly what it is about watching big equipment work, but I think every male in existence enjoys watching those machines. And honestly when I drove big equipment and operated big equipment, I enjoyed it then right up until I didn't anymore.

But yesterday, that enjoyment changed to something different as I looked upon the destruction to the mini eco-system that had grown over the last 75 years behind my house. Who knows what creatures, and how many, had to find alternate housing as their home was chopped down, dug up, and hauled away. 

I felt sad. 

Turkeys used to roost there. Maggie would occasionally stir them up and chase them if they slept too long in the morning. Many winters ago, a herd of deer yarded up there several winters in a row. And recently, a hawk who I think built a nest in one of the old pines along the wall has been MIA now since last Friday. 

Displacement happens, but the positive improvement to my personal life is tempered by the fact I had to kick critters out. 

Oh Well.

__________________________

The only tune I could think of was Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow Taxi". Just substitute the parking lot with leach field and it might make sense.

Day One

Some years back in the early 2000's, a neighbor complained that our leach field was leaking onto their property. I pointed out to my neighbors that they were responsible as they were the ones who pushed a huge boulder onto our leach field in the early 1970s. I also intimated that fixing it was a good idea, but that I expected them to share in some of the cost of the repair or replacement. In that the leak from the field was rather small, I figured they would get back to me regarding how to proceed, but they never did until........

Fast forward to a few months back. I get a call from our local CEO (Code Enforcement Officer). My neighbor had made an official complaint. They wanted the problem fixed and they were denying any fault for causing the failure in the first place. 

The CEO asked me questions. How old was our septic system? How big was our tank? Blah, blah blah. Long story short, he and I decided replacing the septic system was the only way to go. I had no proof of my allegations other than a conversation I had back in the 1990's with the fellow who was operating the bulldozer that pushed the huge boulder onto our land. 

I told the CEO I would find someone to install a new septic system and promised to keep him in the loop.

The first thing we had to do was have a site plan drawn up and then pull a permit down to the Town Hall. A couple of weeks and a sizable chunk of change later, we were ready to hire someone.

Seems here in my corner of Maine, there's an excavating operation hiding behind every tree. Sifting through word of mouth recommendations, we found Caleb C. Chessie. Big man with big equipment and he's located just a couple of miles away. He told us, sure he would love to install a new septic system. Quoted us a price and promised to get on it by the end of May.

Yesterday, August 7, they began taking down trees. In only three hours a crew of three guys had over 25 trees down and cut up into truck-able logs. Ten of the trees were white pines 75 to 100 years old. What you see in the picture is what our back yard looks like now.

To be continued ................................

_____________________________

I am assuming you saw this song or one like it coming. Here is "Construction Machines", by The Bounce Patrol. ............... Enjoy!

Should Moms Be in Charge

 From the Book of Genesis via Creation.com:

So the LORD God caused a deep sleep to fall upon the man (Adam), and while he slept took one of his ribs and closed up its place with flesh. And the rib that the LORD God had taken from the man he made into a woman and brought her to the man. Then the man said, “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.” (Genesis 2:21–23)

According to the tale of Mankind's creation as set down in the Holy Bible, God first created the heavens and our planet along with all its vegetative and geological knick knacks. He followed up with the creation of all the animals before he created the first being who would run this planet. Of course that being would be a man as it would be created in God's image because that was what God was looking at in his mirror at the time. This explains why Adam had to be white, male and modestly endowed with the appropriate equipment to spawn a species. 

God is represented as masculine. After all, men ran Heaven, so too it shall be on Earth. Besides, a woman could not have competently run this paradise. Women were created to be Man's bitches, serving his needs and bearing his children because well, God did not give women the intelligence needed to tame a world. Those abilities he bestowed on Adam and the men who would spring forth from his loins. Women bore offspring and kept the place tidy.

Hmm ...........................

As a man, I should be nodding my head here while I clean my Glock, chew on home cured jerky and tug at my crotch. Had I been raised in certain churches, I would have viewed this explanation of the universal power flow chart as logical and well thought through. Women were yucky and God knew what he was doing.

As it turns out ..............

I was raised by lazy WASP Episcopalians, who did their Christian duty to at least expose me to Christianity during my formative and pre-teen years.I was then set free to go it alone. Because of this, I spent some confusing years trying to balance the Evil I saw in the world against the notion of a benevolent Christian God who loved us because, well, he was our father ferchrisakes.

My first realization that the Good Book was full of shit was the notion that men should dominate the planet. In my family, my mother gave as good as she got. She made sure I knew that a woman's place should probably be a step ahead of men rather than the token step or two behind they had finally risen to in the 20th century.

The following fifty years have proven to me that if the Bible is Truth and God put our lives in the hands of Men, then God was/is an idiot. I am positive we would have had a much less painful evolution as a species if Moms had been in charge. 

Happy Sunday and please, at least on this seventh day, keep it 'tween the ditches ............

_________________________

I have been wanting to use a tune by The big Push, a group from over the pond. Their front man and leader I guess is a fellow named Ren. They began as a busking band in Brighton,UK and now their music is everywhere. Sadly, Ren left the group I think and maybe at the same time he was bitten by a tick and came down with a vicious version of Lyme Disease.  I hear he is making music again.

Here a two-fer - Big Push with their cover of  "Praise You", by Fatboy Slim. And to just fill anyone interested on the song's roots, here is the original"Take Yo Praise", written and recorded by Camile Yarborough in 1975. 

Climate Hell

The Climate Hell that was July began to ease over the weekend here in the southern pucker brush of Maine. The humidity has dropped to tolerable levels and the temperatures are moving in moderating directions. 

Now on August 1, I can breathe again, I can sleep again, I can look out through eyes not stinging from sweat and when I lick my lips I don't think I'm licking a salt shaker. Today , it is supposed to be the perfect Maine day; Sunny, low humidity, and temperatures here in Acton are supposed to stay in the low 70's F . I'm already well on my way to forgetting July.

Complaining about the weather was one of the first eternal truths of Human interactions when we conversed with only grunts, whistles, and hand motions. I am thinking the fact that we  have no control over the weather is what really drives the constant pissing and moaning. Too hot, too cold. Too dry, too wet. We constantly think the weather is better somewhere else. Well, today, here in Acton, it appears we own that tag, "somewhere else". This is the way Maine should be on August 1. Absolutely perfect.

I have hopes now we are entering a more normal flow of summer. I won't hold my breath.

Now days, the realization is finally settling in that the increase in ugly weather we are seeing around our globe is self inflicted for the most part. ........ Hmm...... Maybe more than the most part,  ....... but hey, Climate Change is here and what are we doing about it?

Not nearly enough. Matter of fact, seems the only thing we are good at is complaining about it.

Later ..................................

____________________________

The first song I thought of was "Here Comes the Sun", by The Beatles. 

So here it is.