Friday Night Music

This is one I just heard for the first time and really liked. Give it a listen. Brad Hines singing "Hooked on the Bottle"

Thank You

Robert B. Parker, author of the Spenser and Jesse Stone novels, passed away Monday while working at his desk. He was 77.

I hadn't heard about his death until a little while ago, but by some chance I had started re-reading the Spenser series, starting at the beginning, Sunday evening.

Get over it

A man was shot today in my fair town. As I understand it, the bullet receptacle was attempting to enter a home through the back door and the homeowner shot him with a shotgun. There has been a surprising amount of hand wringing and second guessing. Part of this may be because some of the shot entered the guy's back.

Oh my gosh, surely the misbegotten lad was only trying to check the home for unsafe radon levels when the bloodthirsty guy shot him. What was he doing at home during the day anyway, shouldn't he have been at work like a responsible person? Obviously he had some sort of nefarious reason to be home. Probably set everything up so he could ambush a boy scout.

Cry me a river. Life stops being a cowboy movie at the point where somebody makes the decision to forcefully enter another person's home. Somebody turning around could very well be reaching for a gun. Anybody breaking into your home has forsaken their right to a showdown at noon.

Life isn't perfect. Bad things happen. We all pay the price for our decisions. Don't decide to let yourslf become a victim.

While we're on the subject

There is more than one way to qualify as a sub human. This would be one of them.

Humanity and sub-humans

There is some fundamental aspect missing in the character of somebody who will dump a sick or injured dog to slowly starve or freeze in the cold. If you have a short attention span, don't get a dog. If you don't want it anymore, if you can't take care of it for whatever reason, shoot it or put it down. Take it to the pound. Find it a new home. Be an adult human being and take responsibility. It is a dog. Don't kid yourself. If you dump it there's maybe a one percent chance of somebody taking it in, and an eighty percent chance that it dies slowly, alone and scared. Nineteen percent chance that it becomes somebody else's problem and they have to shoot it for chasing livestock.

It's a dog. Humans domesticated its ancestors thousands of years ago. It depends on humans to be responsible for it. If your humanity isn't dependable, don't get a dog.

My Thoughts Exactly

The Horse Thief has a post up that gets across a point I've often had trouble expressing. Go read it. Then take a look at Mike Rowe's website. I'm a huge fan of Dirty Jobs and always suspected Mike was a pretty good guy.

While you're at it, watch the movie Office Space. It makes a pretty good point as well. There is a lot of societal pressure for everybody to go get some plush office job. All the way through school my teachers and everybody else told me "Oh, you're so smart, don't waste that." As if anything that doesn't require a college degree is a waste of time. They also made it seem like anybody who didn't have an inside job was a failure. That's a frightening trend in what passes for "education" these days. The truth is that a high school diploma, and, for that matter, most college degrees, don't mean much these days. I had a roomate who majored in something called Human Development and Family Studies, and I could have aced most of his exams just by being early to the doctor's office a couple times and reading a few old issues of coffee table magazines. That's what happens in a society where everybody must have a degree.

I'd like to see a return to the old way of doing things, where people taught themselves more, but that isn't likely to happen. Who has time to teach themselves anything? If they did that, they might miss American Idol.

Weekend Menaces

I know it's been a while since I kept anybody up to date on menaces, so I've got a lot to cover. A lot of menaces are like insects, they specialize in certain areas. Today we'll take a look at a few of these narrow-spectrum menaces.

If you happen to be a Nigerian terrorist, it seems that Flying Dutchmen are ready to menace you right into a headlock. We salute you, sir.

Also, for any other suicide bombers who may be reading this, it seems that your own explosives can be a menace for you. I'm actually not sure how to file this bit of news, because I think that's the point of suicide bombing. I'll put it in the "Better them than somebody else" file.

If you happen to be a Florida citrus farmer, Al Gore and his global warming seem to be the enemy.

If your mother is a sub-human piece of slime, then she is your menace.

Folks, keep in mind what Jeff Cooper had to say about specialization. Don't focus on just one menace, stay prepared for all of 'em.

Friday Night Music

Here's one of my favorite songs, "Trains I Missed" by Walt Wilkins. I've always thought Walt is the man and can write a great song, even before I saw this and realized his wife is a major babe. Apparently chicks dig him too.

Christmas Update

I've had a pretty eventful few weeks. We had a big snow in my part of the world right before Christmas. My parents have built a really nice place south of town and had planned on having Christmas out there. Christmas Eve found deep drifts across the county road leading up to it. I got a call from Dad saying he had gotten his jeep stuck in a drift. I made my way out there and, between my pick up and my brother's, pulled him out. The decision was made to press on and see if we could make it. The strategy was to make sure we didn't all three get stuck. We made it to within a hundred feet of the front gate, and then, as the great Meatloaf once said, two out of three ain't bad. We left Steven's truck on dry ground and took off for the tractor. This required a hike involving drifts that were deep enough my feet couldn't touch bottom. Luckily, Bear Grylls teaches us that wiggling like a worm is a good way to stay on top of snow. So we made it to the tractor, pulled the jeep and my truck out, and Dad used the blade to clear the road while me and Steven went to town to bring Mom back. In case you have ever been curious about what depth of snow will bog down a four wheel drive F250, this is what the exact amount looks like.

My sister and her family had a little trouble getting here from the metromess, but it all worked out in the end. I got my six month old niece a Smith and Wesson M&P 15-22. For when she's older. The adjustable stock can grow with her. It was her favorite gift, she had a huge smile when I showed it to her. The pictures were lost, unfortunately. I got my mom and sister each a 20 gauge Remington 870. It was honestly the best Christmas I can remember having.

Friday Night Music

Here's one for Mike Leach. Jimmy Buffet singing "Pirate Looks at Forty"