Well, the new Shoot Boss has had a great day...

Appleseed at Castle Rock, does. In spite of the potential down pours possible, the distances from home, the holiday foolishness of Halloween that one might miss (I gave out candy at my home to costumed children) we had sixteen shooters to learn from some dedicated volunteer instructors. Really glad that we fired all those rounds safely, that the groups were getting tighter, and the shooters got to do two AQTs and are eager to return tomorrow. Me, too, and I will like that one extra hour, this time.

How did mild mannered Clark Kent use that phone booth?

I am switching gears from Library Keeper to Shoot Boss, and I am just as far behind as ever. The shoot box did arrive, and my wife moved all fifty-three pounds of it inside from the porch. It doesn't have every thing I wanted, but more of some stuff and it will all keep to the next one whatever I don't use. My range clothing is laid out, the rifles cased, the other stuff already in the Caravan, it will need fueled up tomorrow very early, only two hour drive down I-5. I opened both IAAR and AAR on the Appleseed forum, and established a link on this blog to get to the public one. One last check in the morning of the load and the paperwork - I have to file everything upon completion with the folks back East, which will be fun, since Monday I have to do inmate payroll and the October reports, I did send off the end of October stuff today.

Oh, on my being Superman, my heart doctor says I am wasting my money and his time unless I come up with something better than a faint, once. I do like that opinion. I did report for my brain scan, to see if I had one, if it was taken over by demonic possession, if an alien life form is living there and spying on humankind.... results will be Monday. I do know that I really can relax deeply, that MRI machines are noisy, and that hospital gowns that open in the back are only for the convenience of the staff in covering patients, not in making patients happily securely dressed.

I do wear hats for shade and such...

Just thinking about that after picking up three green ball caps as temporary Shoot Boss hats until one day I get a real one. Three shades of green, but I like them all. There is a floppy hat for instructors, but I still have the one I wore in Vietnam and it has all kinds of baggage, I could never transfer to a new one.

Okay, now I am really ill....

I don't believe in Zombies, although people tied to their televisions, cellphones and such may be closer than I want to realize. Still today when I went to check with my doctor he had other specialists listed to see about how to improve me. Sigh, and my mother loves me the way I am, except for the far away and apart stuff. Anyway, my doctor wants me to see a Cardiac Specialist and get a Brain scan - anyone that knew me as a Drill Sergeant and Senior NCO would immediately know the doctor was trying to find a heart and mind - which were removed in my first NCO Academy for my future professional growth. What my doctor and I talked about is confidential, but really I wasn't buying it and probably won't anytime soon without something else changing.

I walked down to the dock today, like most days, and a bright red BMW pulled over and stopped and the window powered down, so I stuck my head down and around (hoping for that beautiful long legged red head of my mythology -- it wasn't) it was a sharp looking soldier with three metal proficiency badges above his left pocket and sunglasses on his head "Hey, Old Timer, would you like a lift?" Which is not the way to sell me a refrigerator in the Artic, Old Timer? do we know each other? "No," I answered, "I do this for the exercise and thanks for the offer." He drove off, I hadn't even been limping or anything but he was looking out for me. Ladies, he was a keeper if you could catch him... like I would know what a keeper was today.

The only other thing of note today was that I called BlogTalkRadio to make may opinion known on Gun Nuts Radio: Self Defense hosted by Breda of Library, Guns and Bacon fame. So I chatted and no one paid attention to me, and then I called and was nicely thanked by Caleb - but I probably sounded like an old man when I asked why he hadn't shot in his latest self defense opportunity - his answer was correct - the threat was gone so he didn't shoot. I also wondered but didn't ask why he was a target of the fool with the knife, what made him a potential victim? Still, since he threw his coffee at the perp I thought that was the first good move, getting his pistol out next was second, and not saying "put your hands in the air" was the third good non-move.

Okay, almost time to go get the hot shower and get to bed, I am so far behind in work and will crack the whip tomorrow. Since another doctor has my Thursday afternoon tied up in his office and lab. Can't wait to find out about the Brain Scan, I know there must be a good picture of my mind somewhere.... blank slate of course... I did get three green ball caps to use as Shoot Boss this weekend, two are perfect colors, no sewing on them yet. But the color becomes me... I hope.

What are you worth to your government?

Well, except for the fact I pay taxes and obey the law, I am sure the government doesn't really care that I am alive and wouldn't pay anything for me. But then I know that the government is only a thing - without a heart and a mind (yes, there is no intelligence in the government only in the people working behind the curtain - and sometimes that needs to be proven), and certainly no soul.

As I approach that magical age of 62, early retirement opportunity under the Social Security program, I downloaded the free calculation software, and started filling out the data and their forms - isn't anything simple in the government regulations? See comment on intelligence above. I ran the data, found an entry error, corrected it and ran the data again. I expect I will get a paper copy of their annual estimate in a couple of days (end of October for me) and the two will be very close to exactly.

In the end as I discovered when talking to my wife about it last night, her greatest benefit from my Social Security is if I die and go to Heaven, she would get more than I would for staying alive. So since the rule is you pay people in the direction you want them to move - the government is trying to get my wife to off me, lawfully, and quietly. I don't have any fear of that happening, she started to worry about what would happen to my guns if I died, seems she thinks my son shouldn't get them since he drinks, or better reason - he isn't really interested in them. He only shoots professionally, which in the military isn't as much as the civilians would know. I will have to figure something out that would work well for those firearms.

I will pretend I have time to work on a plan, but my doctor's office called up and they want me for consultation and examination this afternoon in follow up to the fainting (?) incident on the fourteenth, maybe they found something else?

Okay, for all of those that believe that the government loves us and is only trying to make our lives better - I will admit that as long as I pay taxes, work productively and obey those people behind the curtain, they probably won't try to trick me into breaking a law, put their ski masks on to hide their faces and break into my home nor shoot my wife through the door. I do doubt seriously that they will tell the media that I live in a fortified compound and try to smoke me out, and I am almost positive (not living in Philadelphia) that they aren't going to drop a bomb on my home and burn out the neighborhood. But I do remember that our government, American, has done all those things to the least of us. I mean, they even got Martha Stewart, for falsification of evidence? I need to stay below the radar, don't we all?

Remember what I wrote about government not having a mind, and the level of intelligence of those behind the curtain, and always that there are over three hundred million Americans most of whom don't work for the government except for that tax thing. Back to coffee mug.

I never knew him well enough, too much time...

and miles between us most of our lives. He did pack us all in a sedan and drove out to California to visit relations there and along the way, we convinced him to stop at the Petrified Forest, which he didn't really want to do, and he thanked us after. He loved to play Canasta, nightly, the real game with runs -- even after his sight was mostly gone. And I think he caused the building of more Roman Catholic churches in El Cerro than the Pope was looking for, when you build a Protestant Mission they do come. My cousin took a picture of the memorial on the side of Friendship House (which is not the way it is said in Spanish - Casa del la Amistad). Earl didn't fit Spanish well, he was called Martin in South America.

Back from jog, just a quick note before church...

My cousin, a minister in New Zealand currently, was born and raised in South America, and she is now visiting Argentina and Uruguay and friends and family that are still living there. That was the background.

The picture is from the efforts of the current government to say that a previous government was so wrong. The reason I bring this up, is for those that still think one needs a King, or a Czar to get things done and have law and order.... re-read 1 Samuel 8, should be part of Civics 101, but the book doesn't cost $75.00 a copy.

All the things I didn't do today....

Well, too many to list. I did find that my Appleseed box is on the way, and it will be enough although it really isn't what I asked for, but it is on the way, and UPS says they will deliver on Wednesday the 28th. And it is going to Albion, NY, which isn't anywhere near Tacoma, WA. Isn't this technology thing really cool? Okay, go back and find the shipment coming to Spanaway - there must be one that is, don't you think?

I did find the correct number for the shoot box coming to Tacoma, WA, and I do think I am the only person receiving one - on the 30th, that will be cutting it close. Still finish mailing everyone tomorrow and get to studying how to be a shoot boss. Yes, with or without a box, I do have targets and old Appleseeders to help me.

The measure of a man...

Friday night, I was really tired when I rolled home in the Caravan, and waved good-bye to my wife going out to her Ladies Bible Study. Hmm, there were other things I once did on Friday nights in another life long ago and far away, and seemingly happily ever after. So I have Willie Nelson singing Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain on the television, and am thinking about the week.

I check my weight, blood pressure and heart rate daily after rising, and I am always making comparisons between the me I know and the one y'all do -- some how you have made judgments and mostly think well of me, or that I am a bit off the mark. Constant evaluations - how do I measure up, how am I, how do you do? The measure of a man... yes, those of the female gender may play, too. But I think you are way too hard on yourselves. We really like soft cuddly sexual objects, if we had wanted hard plane surfaces we would never have left the shop, with the wood work or automobile bodies. Honest, sitting on a couple thousand pounds of raging bull has no sexual gratification, that is the combat struggle that men need to rage back with... not about sex at all.

Being older and gentler I don't seem to have to rage in combat much anymore, although there are some trespassing turkey takers I thought fondly of taking out. A phrase my son once used in the presence of a lady - who immediately identified it as being one of my thoughts for solutions to problem people, I was very basic Bad Guy once, proudly.

Still, it seems to be the week I am evaluated, I was measured and found wanting, and that was a shock - who me? You talkin' to me? Yes, she was. I get a blog post out of it and a Face book mention, then more folks weigh in and the tower officer is mentioned in dispatches, unfavorably. Everyone seems to be getting measured against their level of professionalism, and the ideal, don't we wish we never fell short and we ask forgiveness but not often enough. The whole incident reminded me that I need to pray for my enemies more often - seemingly I don't have as many as I once did, I often think I prayed too hard for the Vietnamese Communists and not hard enough for the poor Iraqi troops (those guys were hope&helpless) but recently I haven't had much time to think about my enemies - don't have direct contact and haven't been shot at, been the target of tactical ops or sudden mischief. And the ones that the media and the White House have never seem to be mine.

Today I finish my week with my professional annual evaluation as the Library Keeper at McNeil Island Corrections Center. My supervisor gave me my evaluation, it went well since it is the third one we have done, and we are more willing to talk and trust each other and look to the next year and what we can do to improve and make it a better operation in line with the Library and the Department of Corrections' mission and the needs of my patrons. Don't worry, all my faults she knows about were noted, but so were my proper adjustments in performance and attitude.

When you need to improve it helps to have some independent eyes looking at you critically, like a coach. Still, I like to set my own standards, always have.

I wanted to be thought well of by my father, to measure up to the man he was. I want to be loved by God and not fall short, still working on that one. I want my mother's love and pride and seem to have had that always save those terrible teenage years where we weren't ready for my foolish breaks for freedom - and I still tell little boys to run away and escape to adventure. I want to be stronger and faster and healthier, and don't want to pay the price to get there - but I do measure it and I am still moving out and getting somewhere. I want to get the smiles of lovely people, good folks everywhere, ladies and little children. I want to be trusted to take care of stuff; for myself and those I love and those that need me, the real me. I want to live in love with it all, until the echo of that love comes back and warms me to a brilliance I didn't know I have.

Chores, chilly chores....

I don't do chores, really. But the garbage needed bagged and dumped into the trash can, so I knot it up and open the curtains, slide the door and walk out to the porch for getting my farm boots on - I hear the rain as soon as the door opened. No going to ride the Trusty Triumph today, but will still walk to the dock in the rain. As I get the boots on I start running into the giant spider webs, they do love building webs between the pillars and posts of the porch. They decorate whatever part of my body that hit them first, bushy eyebrows with stringing cobweb's fine filaments?

I walk off the porch into the soaked backyard and find that my muscle t-shirt leaves lots of skin for the rain to pelt, cold rain, lots of it, and still more feet to go to the can, but I made it! Open can, find it empty - we haven't added anything since Tuesday's pickup? Oh, we are so green, or is it that we live such little lives that we don't leave a large footprint of anything behind? Slamdunk! close the lid and return over the grass and greater mushrooms plots and moist mole hills. There is life under all that wetness.

I pick out two plastic shopping bags to put inside the under the sink bin, what will we do when the folks outlaw plastic shopping bags - buy plastic garbage bags? I like to think I am too cheap, and that someone else in the world is using their plastic bags two or three times before trashing them for posterity...

Don't you know the spiders are rebuilding the webs I went wildly through? Of course, I will do it again, so one has to take out the garbage. She will miss me when I am gone.

It seems I have been outed... time for change...

Mostly it was a very busy, but satisfying work day. I got the new books and donations processed and linked and into circulation, got half the ILL requests sent, CDs tomorrow, sent out three bins full of return ILLs and some ILLs requested from us. Yes I carried it down the stairs in one trip, I keep thinking I am special.

A visitor dropped in, he works as a volunteer, helping with whatever the Governor can't find funds for, and since there is a hiring freeze that seems to be a lot. He remembered me from years ago, I had attended a Kairos closing and he had asked if I would write something up about my experience - he remembered that I had. Go ahead, ask me to write, anyway, he said of the forty or more people he has asked only three have written. I don't work in Kairos as long as I work inside the fence, too confusing to the inmates is my reasoning. I still help bake cookies at the church when I can. I gave him my business card, with the blog title and my personal emails on the back. I also had a nice talk with two of the Corrections Officers coming in and working, asking how I was, did I need a break - it was only last Wednesday that I fainted, wasn't it? We did get the Segregation Unit books out and picked up the returns, so even having things still undone (we had a five minute Earthquake drill!) I was feeling good about going home and returning tomorrow.

It is raining, I have mentioned that haven't I? and as I left the Visitors' Building I saw a man ahead of me folding up his umbrella, so I called and asked him if he knew it was raining, and he said did you hear what she said. She being the officer in the tower controlling the gate sally port. I said no, I hadn't heard her, and I stood waiting for the gate to open for me, and it didn't.

So I waited, and then the officer said plainly that one couldn't open an umbrella until they cleared the second gate to the outside of the fence. And she called me a "Jackass". I had been outed. I did mention that I didn't have an umbrella, my ID was on the outside of my leather jacket, and I am now known to the world waiting at the gate as a Jackass. Feeling as bad as she wanted me to feel, standing in the rain, at a gate she wouldn't open, not being allowed to verbally assault the Corrections Officer in the fine performance of her duty, I turned to the other people that were waiting, and explained to three of the ladies with open umbrellas that they would have to close them and make sure their ID cards were showing before the officer that had called me a name would open the gate. They closed their umbrellas and we all got through the two gates the officer controlled without having to submit to any further abuse.

It really was my fault, being a Jackass, it isn't the officer's fault that she had to tell the world that I am less than human. She does have the responsibility to make sure that no inmates or other monsters of various persuasions sneak out under the cover of an umbrella. It is really true, if I were to continue to work at a place that I am not given a civil level of respect that I am sure I am a Jackass.

Walking in the dark and wet...

Yesterday, just a sleep ago...

The rain was at a temporary truce, fog bound the Western Washington, so the Trusty Triumph rolled out of the garage and turned on to warm up. At nine thirty in the morning I wondered at the number of fools running without headlights, it was thick fog. Interesting trying to gauge where I am in the ride when I can only see the road just around me, makes the journey a bit longer. I seem to be one of three riding a bike to work. Park it 'til evening return trip - what was that point about Daylight Saviings Time? It is so dark so early I have completely forgotten.

My sister mentions walking through the fallen leaves, the fat Maples await the stirring of my feet, and I am always taken back to the mountains of Pennsylvania and their colors for the weekend tourists. Homeboys soak it up while looking for deer. Which reminds me that it is hunting season and I haven't seen one - but as I look into a little valley in the woods, there she is. Looking back at me, pistol range and I am not carrying, So I talk to her about where she is, how she looks and wish her luck. Wondering if the hunters of yester-year would have let her go for another year or a bigger one around the corner, and would they have talked to her - probably.

In the evening as I walk out the gate of the prison and across the road I find another deer waiting for me - must be a sign, this one is feeding on a particular clump of vegetation and ignoring me, but most long legged females do so I am comfortable being a fleeting distraction. Again, we are talking short pistol range - less than twenty-one feet, and silly me, I start talking to her, too. Since the island is a National reserve there isn't any hunting on it, the deer population is large, only the coyotes and bumbling bears make an attempt to thin the population. Maybe I should think about hunting this weekend, enough to find some I could shoot, for me it is the time on the hunt more than the meat, I wonder if I can pick up a cougar instead. I wonder a lot.

Fall Flames on!

Mushroom Multiplicity

Almost Nevergreen,

Update, just an update...

Nothing important here, people are hunting or harvesting or working their tails off (think that phrase comes from the old days of horse drawn stuff) and I am pretending to catch up to the things on the internet, I am so behind, older and fat and that is my fault.

The Civilian Marksmanship Program is out of ammunition, and that can't be a good thing. Still I put in my order for ammunition, on September third, and yesterday, October nineteenth, it was delivered to my door by the friendly folks at Federal Express (FedEx for those in the know). I looked for all the stereo typical Gun Loving fools stuff, didn't find the cases of beer, or trash barrels of empties, no Confederate Battle Flags nor patches, I do have, hanging on the wall in the Computer Cave a Bennington flag from the fine efforts of General John Stark and company (it is just beautiful). And the Green Mountain boys were there with their flag, which has a whole different type of being Green.

And to really check on this Redneck stuff, I am again reading James Webb's Born Fighting : How the Scots-Irish Shaped America, yep, I do like to look that over periodically. Our family oral tradition is that the Dungeys left Ireland for England during the struggle between James II and William, and the evidence is that one of William's soldiers (from the Dutch?) settled in Kent and they married good English women ever after until they departed for America, Australia, and other points in the the British Empire. I go with the oral tradition, cause you got to believe family and it would explain my love of fighting and the Williams that keep cropping up in the male names.

Almost time to rejoin Humanity, have breakfast, unpack and store ammunition, exercise and jog (I have been so slack) and be a better fellow than you would ever know --- or try to be.

Restless night, something bad on the way?

Dreamed military dreams all night, the major problem seemed to be that everyone was going back to stupidity and forgetting to sustain themselves in the fight. You can't pretend to really win the second round and then lose the next eight by coasting, and that was what I was watching. Especially since I was sure I had taught them the correct way to fight when I was with them before and now it was all wrong again. Ugh. Remember it was only a dream reorganizing my random thoughts about whatever, so I could wake up sane enough to handle Sunday.

Another strange thing in the sleep, my son called for me from the house, my older solid mature son, father of my grandson. So I woke up and turned on the computer, nothing there and went back to bed - it was 3:30 AM our time. Well, breakfast is over, I have shaved and dressed, time to go practice singing and worship. Feels like a good day to pray harder. Plan on taking my wife to a movie "Where the Wild Things Are" = in my heart always.

First day of deer season here...

Of course I am interested, we can't shoot any in the Seattle Parks that have signs posted that there are no guns allowed - so I figure that is where all the bucks with more sense than rut will gather. Unfortunately for them, the rut rules, and Mayor Nickles knows that he was in violation of the Constitution of the United States of America, since he isn't going to be mayor soon, it doesn't matter. The city will pay the lawsuits, but it does show that fools still get elected to important positions and then don't know how to obey the law, doesn't it? Maybe a civilsuit against the fool instead of the office? I would be for that, his pockets aren't that deep but look at the message.

State Wildlife best guesstimate of 120,000 hunters looking for Bambi and close relatives there of, they had better not go to the city parks. I played a wargame, and packed the Caravan to go shooting paper in the pouring precipitation (RAIN!! with Thunderstorms and winds). I enjoyed the expanse of shooting positions, seems that those crowding me out the last few weekends are among those 120,000, go get'm guys and gals! I keep expecting to read about another deer harvested in Idaho, but haven't yet. Anyway, it was fun shooting, although I wasn't shooting like I thought I should be, wanted to blame it on the firearms, but they couldn't defend themselves and so I didn't. When I finished all that I could do, I decided to build my confidence back up and pulled the target rifle out, slung up, and started feeding it one bullet at a time, and shooting, one at a time, break the finger from the trigger, open and eject, cock the hammer, reload, close up and take aim and fire. Called my only flyer, and I was happy - that rifle still loves me and I had a group I could live with and brag about if I were that kind of a fellow.

I do think I am stuck in a different Century sometimes, single shot target rifle with iron sights, and that really works for me. And I don't have to hear about my happy finger, cause every shot is rebuilt from the floor, the sling doesn't move nor the non-firing elbow, but the rest does. well, I have damp rifles to clean, adjust and oil up a bit. Don't you just love the rain? Helps keep the blundering hunter sounds and scents down, but then the deer lay quieter than men, don't they?

Good guys shooting today, lent my binos for them's shooting too far and not knowing where their rounds were going. I talked to a young man (yes, they are all young now) with his new Assault Rifle (an AR with a Thompson Center barrel - sixteen inch) he wanted something he was familiar with - and was cleaning the crud off of it since it wasn't clean when he got it (?) someone was probably playing around before his purchase. He said it was for home defense, I asked why he hadn't purchased a shotgun, and he said that was on his list of to buy, but it would come after his CCW purchase. We went down and talked to another young man (I did say they all were young now) that had been firing his pistol but was now shooting his IMI Galil Assault rifle in 5.56mm. They talked rapidly about what was good and their next purchases (seems building an armory is high on their priorities) I had to laugh and mentioned something about the young being in a hurry. Do keep investing in arms, looks like there are young buyers out there, probably building them in Iraq and Afghanistan daily. Good guys, there was also a young family at the end of the line, all their rifles were the best the Communist could send America, bolt actions and semi-automatics.

Well, I have twelve new CMP chamber flags and one 54" synthetic sling (AWS all weather) by Turner Saddlery with the CMP logo, in brown, will look good with the M1 Garand, in the rain. Will leave the leather on for now. Leather like fine wood has a soul, as opposed to plastic and stamped metals... got to go and get the house ready for the return of my lovely wife. Later

Facebook funnies....

The children are beautiful, but the thug behind them doesn't have a hearing aid, hoping that he won't be mistaken for Secret Service (suit is way too cheap, although the shoes might make it and that is about thirty extra years of wear in his face and body), still it could make it difficult to get a job in day care, don't you think? You would be so wrong if you thought I was carrying a Glock that day, only a Colt .45 would have met the requirements and I fall so short. Still I do like that picture.

This October is hard on old guys....

Facebook picture of Earl being cared for by Kum Cha after running his head into a tree while chasing a ball hit by some of that next next generation, sister sitting nearby, Florida (yes, it is colder here in Washington, and WET).

Watching in the wrong direction... aren't they?

Maybe we all are looking in the wrong direction, and that is when something to really fear jumps out and gets you... cougars anyone?

Looking at my last morning post and seeing the cheering over the breaking the 10,000 point barrier on Wall Street - one would think all those investors had read what I wrote and went out and spent wildly trying to get those big bonuses that Congress is worried about. I know that the market is only displaying the price offered and accepted by the buyer and the seller. I am glad there is a resurgence of confidence in the Economy, and if you really know what that means and what I meant you are going to make money.

Congress is worried about big bonuses in high finance - they are looking in the wrong direction - they have a taxing power, which I think they abuse, but they can fix the big bonuses quickly - tax them away. But they are looking in the wrong direction, the government is bleeding in money being thrown around, debt climbing and money printed in excess of good sense (that last is way too easy for Congress to overlook). If their books were my family finances I would throw up my hands and go a little more crazy. I am responsible and wonder why Congress isn't, they do look like pigs at the feed, but that says bad things about the pigs and that wouldn't be nice of me. They are looking in the wrong direction.

Should keep running to stay ahead of mortality...

I am resting at home today, it seemed like a normal Wednesday, bought my winning Lotto tickets, rode the bus to the dock (I was too late to walk) got on the ferry, said good morning, read a little, nodded off into a nap, awoke and thought about work. I wake up to two staff asking me if I was all right. Sure, I said, why did something happen? One thought I had a seizure, one thought I might have fainted. I figured my blood pressure was too low or my heart had stopped, but it hadn't. No, I hadn't fallen nor hit my head, they were on top of my lapse.

I got up and walked the quarter mile to the prison, went inside ready to open the library and one of my saviors decided I had to go to the Medical floor and get checked on (wrong answer, the Fire Department has all the trained staff for staff medical emergencies and will evacuate if needed) anyway, I went when prodded - you don't know but getting old is the pits sometimes, but the alternative isn't a known. Most of what I felt uncomfortable about was the attention, nurse tried to find blood pressure (she was starting to worry me - her stress level) the doctor asked about my normal heart rate. About forty to fifty beats I answered. He was okay with me going to see my doctor, a departing nurse hovered over my exit from the island, the fire department driver took us to the boat, and all along the way I was the center of attention, since the radio calls had been shared by all. Sigh, people that have never said hello (remember that I hardly talk to anyone) asked how I felt, was I okay and hoped it was nothing to worry about. Me, too.

I felt good enough to drive to the doctors, to report and go home to monitor my condition, and except for spiders walking across the hairs remaining on my head I feel fine. At home I disturb my wife's work day - she is on the case and watching me like a hawk or mother hen, take your pick.

Some good some bad going to terrible...

CMP says they have shipped my chamber flags and synthetic sling, no word on the ammunition but I can wait a bit. I find my links to the Revolutionary War Veteran's Association are bad and not working except a message in geek II:


Fatal error: Cannot redeclare ae5() (previously declared in /home/content/a/t/t/atticus97/html/smf/index.php(1) : eval()'d code:1) in /home/content/a/t/t/atticus97/html/smf/Settings.php(1) : eval()'d code on line 1


Just to end on a good note, as I looked at Quicken to check some investments I did a five year Net Worth as of 2009-10-14 and except for the President Bush dip in values last year - I continue to climb out of the Valley of Self Imposed Burdens Unbelievable - there's a light up ahead! Well, I will keep tryin' to be better 'n better.

I was going to write about the war...

but I couldn't even sign into Blogger this morning without hitting an extra i in hotmail.com and getting refused. Well, I found it and corrected it and I am under two ten this morning and I have a mug of coffee so I will ramble on...

The United States is not at war, our Commander in Chief has received the Noble Nobel Peace Prize, I suspect he kept the same Secretary of Defense as the last Commander-in-Chief since he wasn't serious about continuing the war and could use the cover until he could get back to it. It really is still Bush's War, and President Bush will tell you that he is our last Wartime President, not that he was doing it any better than the current One of Wonder.

The reason I even mention it was a post from Frank James, about the M-4 (M-16) failures again ..., he wrote well about the problem and I just had to point out what I saw looking at the same problem. He knows his weapons, hunting and farming and I learn every time I read about his corner of perception. Having had my own personal experience with trying to get the system to improve the current pistol I know that the system just doesn't care, one voice, ten bodies, two thousand dead because of a mess in the Pentagon, or any other headquarters will be swept under the blanket of History. To be read and commented on by people that do care but aren't in control nor on a battlefront.

The reason we aren't going to win a war in the Middle East is that we aren't going to go to fight a war in the Middle East. Israel survives because Jerusalem and Tel Aviv aren't in California nor New York - they may get lots of bond buyers from there, but the leadership of the country, the people of the country and the reason for surviving are all inside Israel. So they pay close attention, and even when offering peace to stupid folks that think the problem could just be gone when the Jews are, they certainly are passionate and serious about trying. They are also serious about fighting wars to win them, not sustain their armament industry, Boeing and GM.

There was passion and concern from the citizens in the American Revolutionary War, the War between the States, World War II and just cheering and flag waving patriotism on all the others. If we would just move the Commander in Chief and Congress in session to the center of our international conflicts, and allow them to drag their lobbyists with them, we would have such better results, really. And if for whatever reason we still couldn't win, like Alexander the Great in Afghanistan of his era, make it look like he had and leave to conquer something easier.

Nice thing about rambling is that I expend all the heat and mind mumbling that raced through my head in the darkness. What was my point? Oh, yeah, that old Vietnam thing that is still unresolved in my heart. I personally remember my life then, and I didn't like what we were about to do with our professional army in Bush's War (do you remember all the reasons we are fighting it, still?). Yes, I like a professional military - keep the MBAs away from our officer corps and it could really be great.

I do want the best military to perform the Defense of America, and I don't want it expended (they are willing to fight to the death for the best of reasons and it isn't money) in stupid political paybacks and favors for friends in odd places. It just won't be there when America really needs its pointy end. Thank you for looking for meaning in all this, I am on the second mug of coffee, sure the current President is totally wrong on Iraq and Afghanistan and so much else, sure that those going back to the Middle East for the third, fourth or fifth time are wondering what is the point and they are the ones that have to tell the first timers what to do to survive, do well and win battles --- and it really isn't exactly like it was before, the new Commander in Chief has other things on his table to work on and look good about. Yes, you will be getting Turkey on Thanksgiving, read a copy of a book about the Marines in North Korea, they knew that only the Marines cared.

In addition: I am so glad my wife is off for her doctor's checkup, if I had to go my blood pressure would make him change my medication or admit me to the hospital, foolish waste of good money, best be about better stuff than worrying at what I couldn't fix no matter.

You wonder where the money went...

Since last year's economic catastrophe I have watched our family financial situation go down and start climbing back up. Important, we both continue to work, we both continue to repay loans and bills as due, we both are living quiet little old lives. We have health insurance and my wife is on Medicare. So this morning, after paying the bills I reconciled the checking account, put in the quarterly statements from the IRAs and ran the numbers after I learned how to do something I should have done long ago. I use Quicken for my stuff, but they keep changing the software and I don't play with it enough. Anyway, things are getting better and I have my wife's support for retiring as soon as I have the mortgage paid off.... where are those winning Lotto tickets?

I don't really need them, I just need a few more years beyond three score and ten, but even if I had only that I would be so close. She might be right, we should have a yard sale every weekend in the Summer until all the excess is gone --- plan, I move everything out for the sale, get my guns and go shooting all day, and come back and move whatever is left back into the house.

May all my sins be tiny ones...

I am not the sinner I once was, but still long way from perfection. I don't gamble, chase women, drink to excess, rob, murder and the like - but am still just a flawed fellow; no control, no discipline and little success in making the world better. I should change that but then wonder if being a little bad isn't better than all good, which is where the devil gets his claws in me....

Example, one should exercise daily, thirty minutes minimum for your heart and functions, and I have been very lax. Small sin, great price to pay for the lack of it will be in my future, which will be shorter. I am fatter than I should be, and I don't need to carry the weight for hibernating all Winter, another small sin, feeding on the bounty I have been blessed with when I should be sharing with the world. And I think way too much about I, a much greater sin, since I should be focused on the God that made it all possible to be so weak, or so strong, for all the blame on me belong. Best go and re-orient self......... to His way.

Okay, it is a strange day, maybe Mega Millions...

maybe Mega Millions will have my numbers for the grand prize! Why not, seems that I worked just fine at the WCCW with the women patrons and inmate clerks. Moved lots of mail, requested lots of ILL materials, and cleared many soon to be released inmates and did get the books back from Segregation and issued a new bunch of books, into a locked box on a heavy cart. I am certain there aren't as many women in solitary as there are men in the corrections centers.

But that isn't the big deal, not by a long shot. I remember telling everyone to write their Congressmen, Senators and the incoming President about how you felt about the 2nd Amendment or gun control or anything that you felt they needed to know about. Well, I did, and from one of my Senators I keep getting long messages about health care and other things that interest her -- from the other I get silence, hope she isn't ill. My Congressman is always there inviting me to the next town hall meeting, he does that all the time, not just because the Democratic Party sent him out for health care.

Anyway, today (the day the President learns he is important in the Peace process) I got my personal (as they can make it) letter from the President - I do have to admit his signature is artful and kind of cool. Mine and my father's signatures in script are flowing and can be read (okay, I have lost the last two characters in my flourish, but I could put them back in for clarity) but the President's is artful and therefore just a pretty thing without much substance, but it is pretty.

Well, the first mistake is he called me "Dear Friend" and I gave him my name, we don't have a relationship. He thanked me for sharing my views about firearms policy. He appreciates me, ah, if only all politicians appreciated me. He told me that he is committed to making his Administration the most open and transparent in history (why capitalize Administration and not History?). He also wanted me to know that my concerns will be on his mind for the days ahead. I would rather he fixed the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan or at least gave the nation a policy about them worth fighting for (don't hold your breath).

He told me thanks for writing and wants me to visit the virtual WhiteHouse.gov to learn more about his Administration or to contact him in the future. Sincerely,

Okay, I have the winning ticket, it has been that strange a day, best check email and answer and fall asleep in front of the fire place - it is getting cold enough to cause wood piles to shrink in the dark. I did tell y'all to write, the Post Office can always use the business.

I am just a bit stunned...

My grandfather, Rev. Earl Martin Smith, worked very hard on World Peace. He is gone now, but I having spent a large portion of my life in the World at or preparing for War, understood it isn't easy standing up for Peace. So imagine my shock at the latest Nobel Peace Prize - I can only think that someone thinks of it as a reward in consolation for his not getting the Olympics in Chicago. Really there are people out there working hard on Peace right now, not just talking about it, really working on it.

All on the same day...

At my library the computers to the internet went out, so I got more other work done, and the inmate clerks managed to jam the paper shredder again for me to clean out. In the area of touchy subjects a counselor, a Corrections Officer, and the Disciplinary Hearing Officer came into the library (three, I was out numbered!) and they wanted to know what an inmate had been reading. I jumped up on my high horse and told them I couldn't give them that or it would be my job - it was a State law and the software didn't record it after the item was turned it. Then I asked what they needed the book title for... which could have been a better way to have started the discussion. Seems an inmate departing Thursday, had left a picture of his son in the book as a bookmark, and he was disturbed to be moving on without it. So, since the inmate didn't remember the title of the book nor the author we (four of us now) were lookng for an autobiography with a woman on the cover about her live overseas and then back. A paperback and about three hundred pages. So we looked, and it was found! And the picture of the son as a bookmark was still in it. Best teach my clerks how to prepare the books for circ better. But a happy ending. The book's title? Infidel.

In the realm of suddenly there is something to worry about - Chicago is having trouble staying on top of Gangs, guns and violence - feel sorry for the children was covered by ABC News, along with the First Lady's ancestors, among her forefathers was a carpenter that built his life by working hard, around the early 1900s, when Americans didn't have too many Rights, but most seemed to have an opportunity. Back to the Chicago problem, the Gunnies are trying to get those wonderful protective laws against handguns and firearms overturned. And so they should, I am with Vermont myself. Anyway, one of the Rightwing News groups tells me that HR 45? or something like that is the slam those gun toters down regulation that Obama will be using soon. But I remember that he swore to defend and uphold the Constitution of the United States (they didn't read it right then, but they did mention it by name) so I figure there is no danger of his changing his mind and making war on our forefather's desires and designs. Is there? Back to my shoot boss duties, thanks.

The best and the brightest and the results...

Well, I was proud to go and cover for Doug, who is on a well deserved vacation, at the Washington Corrections Center for Women. Remember I do try to avoid them, and my wife admonished me not to wink at anyone while there today, laughingly. So I drove off and reported on time, in uniform (pocket protector and tie - the things I hide behind). I found I could open Doug's locker, and leave my keys, and I got to come back and leave my wallet, too. But I had no chit to turn in for library keys, and when confronted with the irregular and unexpected the institution shut me out. The shift Lieutenant couldn't issue me a temporary chit, and I could have hung around all day and collected my pay - but the library never would have opened. Sigh

I called the Associate Superintendent to report that I had been there and couldn't help their library, but I tried. I drove off, paid my four dollars for crossing the bridge over the Narrows - if it weren't so cold and the octopi so large I might try swimming to save the money next time. Anyway, I stopped at the Western State Hospital to report, request a leave and report that I have managed to keep two library branches closed instead of only one. Somedays, I should just stay in bed it is always warmer there than the cold, cruel world awaiting me - but then I could try to warm it up for the rest of humanity - start with a smile, a gentle attitude and sure knowledge that I am going to be loved by someone today. My supervisor sent off quick emails and got the corrections requested - she was going to cover tomorrow and Thursday, and I will try again on Friday --- wish me luck.

Why am I working in a prison library? or any?

After getting a sunburn on the Sunny beaches of Florida, Sunday afternoon, my wife says I am as red as a radish. But I was preparing to ride the Trusty Triumph to work and it was a bit chilly outside, not frosty yet but certainly stirred me to cut a couple of minutes off my jog because I wanted to go faster and stay warm as my breath clouded when I exhaled. Yeah, leather St. Johns Bay jacket, white, knitted by wife, scarf around my neck (flashbacks to WWI flying outfits), pulled on the almost winterized thick gauntlets and allow the motorcycle to warm up a little longer as I adjust the helmet. Florida was nice wasn't it? I waved good-bye and rolled off into the ride, and I don't have to share, go get your own ride, worth every penny and all the unexpected shocks along the way.

A walk to the dock, finally thinking about what I need to accomplish in the library, nap on ferry, and walk into the prison, okay it is a Corrections Center, but that is so many extra key strokes. I am on the outgoing mail, the incoming mail, and find a Library for the Blind bag, knowing immediately who that should have gone to - I know his name, been here too long? Check the four days of email, and answer some that have already been taken care of by others. But one has to look, sometimes they don't skip you and they wait. Find a message from my supervisor that says I have to get the branch manual updated before she returns, and I was so sure I had it updated before I left - put that on the procrastination pile. Finally I have a full crew the last one tells me that his unit was locked down - since movement is already thirty minutes late I could believe it. And we work and help the customers, I find small problems only I can fix, others they should have already and guide them back to doing it better for the library and customers. Sending patrons to me is only when they have done all they can, I get interrupted many times, and that sometimes makes me forget my place and I start over. Can't say there is any boring stuff in my library, everyone wants something from me - the hustle is constant.

Another patron comes to my door and I almost start to snarl, I am such a bad guy, but then I ask what I can do for him, he wants to know what to read -- seems he has a lot of time on his hands and wants to get that stuff he missed in school. He wants the classics and stuff the college types all know, kind of. So I hit Google and print out about three recommended reading lists - glancing at them most of them aren't on my reading list but the education and media elite think they are worthy. Sigh. So I go out and we start to talk more about what he wants from the reading, self education opportunities in the library (all libraries everywhere), and why he didn't do it all the first time years ago. I want to give him Ender's Game but it isn't on the shelf but recommend it (he looks like he need teenage male romance -- which is always competitive adventure not sex, folks). Yes, I did show him the Great Books collection briefly - but I won't start anyone on Dante or Plato, I talk and discuss some more and head for Heinlein - grab Starship Troopers and The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, tell him not to think about any movie about any book - books are always better. He is still oriented a bit towards the classics, been talking to others, and wants to look at Moby Dick and a Dickens or two. So I show him a Classic condensation with illustrations of Moby Dick and walk him over to Dickens and grab the Christmas Carol - since Nicholas Nickleby is way too thick for starting out. I then talk a bit more, another inmate slides a book about reading for self education towards him (now where did that book come from?) and recommends it -- there are no private conversations in prison, every thing is monitored. But that is one of the great things about real readers - they are always willing to share their books just like Oprah (yes, I mentioned her book club - he thinks he might like to join one in the prison). I do go back to the Great Books shelf and find Melville and Moby Dick, or The Great White Whale. So he thanks me and hopes he can talk to me again later and my day is done, it won't get any better than that, all twenty minutes of nudging him into reading and hoping I have picked books that will make him come back for more. I stop at my internet computer and add a couple of self study books for purchase, and the ones that were recommended by Bob to add to the next book cart.

By the end of the day, as I work to clear the paper shredder jamming (when you don't buy it you don't care for it lovingly) and wish my request for labels and removable tape had been filled and decide I will have to purchase them with my own money, since it seems the Governor lost all of hers, where do the dollars go? by the end of the day, I mention to one of the old library workers (a fine large hunk of a man - okay, potential thug or gentle giant) that I had a great fifteen minutes today - out of the eight and a half hours, and he understood. Yeah, I will have to remember that because they aren't often enough, but they are golden.

Good morning, blog readers everywhere...

I am up and working on becoming a better man again, no hope but it is one way to try and pick the better of two options. I am fatter, thank you for feeding all my desires and few of my needs, it is great to be able to have to problem of too much than the challenge of way too little. Since twenty pounds is what I complain about most, thinking thirty five will really ring my alarm bell. But my blood pressure was 115/82 this morning with the heart rate of 42 beats per minute, so vacations are still very good to me. Note to self, when visiting places with water and sand, take swimming suit and get in and swim, how can one just go without (yes, there are swimming suits and various things to wear in my chest of drawers), also use the fitness facilities, and drag some friends or family along to sweat and talk to.

Also, take a couple of your good knives, it does seem really strange to have to find a Wal-Mart and pick a Chinese product when I have all those great ones from Germany and the old proud of our product America - before Gerber sold out. I guess I could have found out about my concealed carry permit from Washington in Florida - but that wasn't on my list of important things to do. I did find my sister, the one closest to me in many things, has a License To Carry Firearms from Pennsylvania. Which to my eyes didn't make it clear what the intent of the license was, having looked it up I kind of understand. I do appreciate the efforts of the State of Pennsylvania, but doesn't that fly in the face of simple 2nd Amendment language? It is 'Shall issue' so that isn't too bad, unless one is living or working in Philadelphia (would Benjamin Franklin choose to live in that city today?).

Still in the sibling competition of which of us is the better at whatever, I have to hand it all to my brother on the motorcycling front. He was the one that recommended the Trusty Triumph to me, and he has ridden motorcycles for many more years than I, many many. But he rode his bike all the way from Aurora, Colorado to Palm Coast, Florida, and is zigging back by North Carolina to visit Mom and get some tubing twisted for his exhaust system on his bike then home. Now that is some riding. He needs good thoughts to go with his good riding skills, those highways are a zooming jungle out there. You have no idea how many times I got lost looking for some area, and it was very nice to sooner or later be back where I was supposed to be. I have my niece's home zeroed in -- so I figure the perfect home is coming on the market soon for her to lock in and buy --- just so one day I will have to find them again. I will be taking my swimming suit, shorts, jogging shoes and good attitude, dude.

sometimes small town guys go farther than one thinks...

I have always called Ligonier Valley my hometown, but I didn't live in the town and was living on Darlington Road along side the Loyalhanna Creek that cut through the Chestnut Ridge that lay West of Ligonier Valley. I left for college and then adventures with the military service of my country and its best intentions. So I think having been elsewhere and seen and done a bit I can pretend to be a ex-resident expert on small town boy goes far.

I was thinking of that at the memorial for my friend and brother-in-law, William Gerald Leibel, Jr (Jerry), today. He kind of stayed home while I was wandering but then I realized that he had traveled to England with my sister to visit their daughter in her Air Force service, had gone to Colorado for the Renasiance Fair wedding of my brother's son, gone to Hawaii to visit and attend the wedding of my son in the Navy and in love, he did get around.

The minister said kind and good words about Jerry, and knew we all cared very much about Jerry and knew he couldn't catch more than we were sure Jerry was a very good man - in a fight, in a family, in his role as father - all a very good man. But they, my sister and her daughters picked a perfect place to say good-bye, it had a long white sand road to get to the park, the creek was perfect to the jumping fish and the dolphin, the breeze was cooling and the day was fine and we remembered Jerry and our lives with him. My mother had written her memories and I and my sister read them and shared our thoughts about her memories, good thoughts.

As I thought about how small town boys leave and travel, and that Jerry really hadn't, I looked a second time and realized he wasn't frozen in that place nor our hearts, but was going out with his daughters and wife, and his son-in-laws, and grandchildren into their futures. Kind of always there, a solid reference an anchor when you wanted an expert opinion - well, their dad would have done it this way, or would have said this about that, or not said anything at all unless it was 'do you need any help?' That part of Jerry that he gave away with his love will go on into our future, and we will be happy to pass it on, wherever the road leads us.

I have the newest Stephen Hunter book...

and no I can't tell you the title, Dirty White Boys is the one that all the inmate patrons want, and Bob the Nailer will get a smile from the men that read the series. Maybe the title is Distant Thunder, or something Thunder. No romance in our lives just blood soaked adventure, some interesting support characters and little adjustments in attitude in this one, and a complete surprise as far as the most evil of masterminds. I will have to donate my copy to the prison library when I return, I don't have the winning lotto ticket for tonight's numbers, sigh. I do have the Financial Issue of US News and World Report, all about retirement and the investments that will allow me to participate in that kind of a life style.

Hmm, my wife mentioning that if she were to die first and what would happen to her and I, and I told her that I would find the nearest bar and bottle and descend back into the hole that I crawled out of.. so long ago. I only quit drinking because I did it so badly - I could do it so much worse now with my maturity.

Traveling as fast as I can...

wandering through the friendly skies and stopping at points along the way, is one way to expend a good night's sleep and dreams. But sure enough I am now here in Florida, and my wife made me stop and sleep off the road before I fell asleep on the road, that worked so well.

Family are those which acknowledge that you are related, and the children respond quickest to new found members, and they all make the journey worthy. How do we find each other, by bumping into one another at the pool, at the registration desk and by asking after. All very disorganized, but all real life not something that will ever get written into a script and on your screen.

Time to go and get a good night's worth in preparation for the morrow.

Thoughts on Registration...

Among the chores for today, was getting my updated car tags for the Caravan, and the kind benevolent government only asks thirty dollars for the tags, and then adds on bunch of fees and donations (?) until it totals out to $105.75. I went to a commercial place and paid them three more dollars for instant ratification. So I can legally run the roads of Washington and reciprocal governments that recognize the plates and want my lawful conduct doing good things in their neighborhood (Idaho, Canada, Oregon, Mexico and such). Since it has also been seven years that I have owned and operated the car, I get new plates with a new number - glad I don't use many motels that want me to remember that old number cause it is gone now. The Caravan is now 571 ZPP, and that could be for Zippy, but we all know about Caravans and Earl, Zippy might be correct for the Trusty Triumph but only on Earl's wilder days.

Then onward for registering my two rifles on Fort Lewis, and since I have a new tag number updating that on Fort Lewis, too. So I am giving the clerk all the forms, cards, numbers and best guesses, yes it is a twenty inch barrel, overall maybe thirty eight or thirty six inches. They didn't care about magazine capacity, and I didn't either. When they ran the Provost Marshals Office Ft. Lewis, WA Weapons Permit it runs onto a second page, I now seem to have too many firearms - fifteen is all that went on page one, one slid onto page two. I know there are many gun toting folks upset or straight out fearful of the government having too much knowledge about what weapons are where, and since the Commander at Fort Lewis (who has never thought through the implications of having registered weapons coming on and going off base - and not allowing unregistered weapons on base unless they belong to law enforcement folks) doesn't allow me to use the Post Ranges for my recreational shooting without being registered - I am content to register. When you look at my long history (over fifty years worth) with firearms and the number of crimes and injuries I have inflicted with the same --- I have to admit only when issued a weapon by the United States government has any living thing come to an end or grief, all my personal registered firearms haven't hurt anything that I wasn't hunting, with permission. So you see, registration does work - not that Earl would be a responsible sane adult male - some may think that was an oxymoron - but registering my firearms has kept them from terrible acts and accidents - 100% of the time registered. It really does work.

Now last point of today is that as mis-read and understood as the 2nd Amendment of the Constitution seems to be (I have family members that don't read it the same way I do, and my mother has a whole different set of views about law) isn't the government glad that we didn't write something like "The government has no Right to keep or bear arms against the People, every assumption of such a Right by the government must be infringed". Yeah, and when you think about that just a bit, can you truthfully tell me why POLICE have fully automatic weapons? I understand the military use and the tactics and training to make them effective, but POLICE?