http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
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As you are no doubt aware, my sister bought a big Buick. A car she will drive into retirement because that's the natural order of things. If you have doubts, look inside one, or a Cadillac, invariably you will see someone either heading for a retirement home or on a shopping trip from one. In her own words:
"With the car being big and black, and as the previous owner was the Chicago Plumbers Union, I've decided to call it 'the mafia mobile' When the kids come to check out the car, I open the trunk, and refer to how many bodies you could probably put in that trunk, but that it wouldn't have seen Jimmy Hoffa, as it's too new for that..........., of course the kids are too young to get the humor there!"
While that's true, there's no reason not to have the trunk dusted for fingerprints, or tested for DNA residue. It might help the Chicago PD close a few cases, and might increase the car's resale value due to historical interest. Did OJ ever drive a Buick while in Chicago (raised eyebrow)?
As for Jimmy Hoffa, maybe they never found him because his union brothers are playing a shell game where they shuffle him between car trunks. Maybe he's still alive, and eats so much drive-thru he needs a trunk that big. Or maybe not. So who knows.
Around Halloween she can scare the neighborhood kids with stories of her car being haunted by the Evil, Vile Insomniac Labor Leader who wants to take all their candy for union dues, and who still votes for John Kennedy.
Or, just for kicks she could always throw a few union-label lead pipes in the trunk and refer to it as her Mobile Labor Relations Bargaining Unit. "See the scuff by the door handle? That's where a scab went to the school of hard knocks. Knocked him so silly he couldn't handle an easy non-union job like Treasury Secretary. The moral of the story is to always hire union. If Nixon had, the leaks at the Watergate would have been fixed right, the guard would have been out for coffee and doughnuts, and Nixon could have finished his term. But no, he was a Republican and tried to get by with non-union immigrants. Caveat right-to-worker."
If my Intrepid holds up, it will probably be another five years before I start shopping for my own big Buick. Maybe when Sis loses her driving priviledges she'll sell hers to me. The car has character, it would work. It could make a body right popular with the goth set, and isn't that something we all want?
In a small town I could get a lot of calls from the funeral director, "Could you drive tomorrow afternoon? Shouldn't take but an hour, and there's free food afterward." Free food? The Cheapwife asks what time? Can we bring the kids?
If I had a Buick I'd probably be in the trunk tomorrow, exchanging hello's with Jimmy Hoffa. Looking a little pale Jimmy, get out much? Hello? Jimmy, hello? Quick, somebody get the Super Nurse!
I wrote it, it's my fault, I make no excuses.
Publicserf
Thursday, June 12, 2003
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
I haven't accomplished much lately, but I am well-rested.
The wife is teaching Vacation Bible School this week. In addition to getting things ready for the lessons she has to come up with play activities. This is her busiest week of the year. The theme this year is something-like-geography. Yesterday, it was Antarctica. For play time she brought a clothes basket full of rolled-up white socks. Yes, we do have a lot of white socks.
The class was divided in half, each side got half the room. The object was to throw socks/snowballs to the other side of the room. When the time was up whichever side had the most socks lost. The kids loved it. Sock/snowball fight! She'll probably do it again today. You go with a winner.
Last night she was catching up on this blog when Trainboy walked by. She yelled, "Hey come in here, we need a hug!" He backed up, held up his right index finger and said, "just a minute," and disappeared. True to his word, in about a minute he was back, with a toy VW hug-bug tucked under his arm like a football. Thus armed he was able to give us a hug. Gotta love him.
When the wife goes on a bike-ride Trainboy has a seat above the rear wheel. If they spot a VW he yells hug-bug! and leans forward to give her a hug. She'll tell him he can save the hug for later, but he can never wait. He leans as far as he can and gives whatever hug he can manage. It may just be a hand on her hip, but she gets her hug. No delayed gratification here. Ya gotta love him.
We had matzoh-ball soup for supper. Obviously, it wasn't Passover. It may be hard for the average goy to imagine, but our kids requested it. They just love it. Giggles did not have any, Giggles did not want to try it. Giggles does not eat chicken soup, or anything resembling chicken soup. Ms. Pikachu was only too happy to eat her share. Fortunately there was a pizza in the freezer, Giggles did not starve.
At such times it's not surprising my mother nearly went nuts. Each of us kids had our own demands. I wouldn't eat poultry, younger brother wouldn't eat ham, yadda, yadda, yadda. Thank God for heat-and-serve food, it's probably raised the country's mental health level a good deal, at least the mothers'.
So much for the moment.
Publicserf
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
I haven't accomplished much lately, but I am well-rested.
The wife is teaching Vacation Bible School this week. In addition to getting things ready for the lessons she has to come up with play activities. This is her busiest week of the year. The theme this year is something-like-geography. Yesterday, it was Antarctica. For play time she brought a clothes basket full of rolled-up white socks. Yes, we do have a lot of white socks.
The class was divided in half, each side got half the room. The object was to throw socks/snowballs to the other side of the room. When the time was up whichever side had the most socks lost. The kids loved it. Sock/snowball fight! She'll probably do it again today. You go with a winner.
Last night she was catching up on this blog when Trainboy walked by. She yelled, "Hey come in here, we need a hug!" He backed up, held up his right index finger and said, "just a minute," and disappeared. True to his word, in about a minute he was back, with a toy VW hug-bug tucked under his arm like a football. Thus armed he was able to give us a hug. Gotta love him.
When the wife goes on a bike-ride Trainboy has a seat above the rear wheel. If they spot a VW he yells hug-bug! and leans forward to give her a hug. She'll tell him he can save the hug for later, but he can never wait. He leans as far as he can and gives whatever hug he can manage. It may just be a hand on her hip, but she gets her hug. No delayed gratification here. Ya gotta love him.
We had matzoh-ball soup for supper. Obviously, it wasn't Passover. It may be hard for the average goy to imagine, but our kids requested it. They just love it. Giggles did not have any, Giggles did not want to try it. Giggles does not eat chicken soup, or anything resembling chicken soup. Ms. Pikachu was only too happy to eat her share. Fortunately there was a pizza in the freezer, Giggles did not starve.
At such times it's not surprising my mother nearly went nuts. Each of us kids had our own demands. I wouldn't eat poultry, younger brother wouldn't eat ham, yadda, yadda, yadda. Thank God for heat-and-serve food, it's probably raised the country's mental health level a good deal, at least the mothers'.
So much for the moment.
Publicserf
Tuesday, June 10, 2003
Monday, June 09, 2003
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
Last night Trainboy became ill. He blew chunks on the bathroom floor. He was quite distraught, like he'd done something wrong. It reminded me of my Dad saying nothing was worse than having a sick kid. At the time I thought he meant that nothing was worse than having to deal with a sick kid because of all the trouble. Have a heaping helping of guilt with your sickness... feel better? Of course, after you grow up you realize he just meant there was nothing worse than not being able to help someone you love so much. I told Trainboy that getting sick happens and it wasn't his fault, the mess could be cleaned up. It was okay, and I just wanted him to feel better.
My sister is visiting from Tennessee. She brought along her youngest teen-age daughter, Giggles. Giggles and Ms. Pikachu are a couple of manic blondes. They could be sisters as easily as cousins. Giggles will stay for a few weeks.This week she'll help The Wife teach Vacation Bible School. Ms. Pikachu and Trainboy have a lot of fun when she's here. The level of noise rises exponentially. Fun, fun, fun. Where are my ear plugs?
My sister had told me she needed another car. Her Cutlass has served admirably but is on it's last legs. The fellow who sold me the Intrepid had a Black 1999 Buick Park Avenue. We scoped the web for reports and found it to be extremely reliable and had no accident history. A terrific price for the car. I took the afternoon off work and we went to the car dealer.
All six of us piled into the car. It's land-yacht big. Plenty of high-tech gizmos, including a compass in the rear-view mirror, heated side-view mirror. Nice car. Rode beautifully. 8-speaker sound, CD/cassette. Sold. The dealer said he'd replace the struts, touch up a few scratches, and sell it to her for less. He'll have it ready tomorrow, and she'll head back to Tennessee. Sis is happy. As long as it runs ok I'll be happy too.
Publicserf
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
Last night Trainboy became ill. He blew chunks on the bathroom floor. He was quite distraught, like he'd done something wrong. It reminded me of my Dad saying nothing was worse than having a sick kid. At the time I thought he meant that nothing was worse than having to deal with a sick kid because of all the trouble. Have a heaping helping of guilt with your sickness... feel better? Of course, after you grow up you realize he just meant there was nothing worse than not being able to help someone you love so much. I told Trainboy that getting sick happens and it wasn't his fault, the mess could be cleaned up. It was okay, and I just wanted him to feel better.
My sister is visiting from Tennessee. She brought along her youngest teen-age daughter, Giggles. Giggles and Ms. Pikachu are a couple of manic blondes. They could be sisters as easily as cousins. Giggles will stay for a few weeks.This week she'll help The Wife teach Vacation Bible School. Ms. Pikachu and Trainboy have a lot of fun when she's here. The level of noise rises exponentially. Fun, fun, fun. Where are my ear plugs?
My sister had told me she needed another car. Her Cutlass has served admirably but is on it's last legs. The fellow who sold me the Intrepid had a Black 1999 Buick Park Avenue. We scoped the web for reports and found it to be extremely reliable and had no accident history. A terrific price for the car. I took the afternoon off work and we went to the car dealer.
All six of us piled into the car. It's land-yacht big. Plenty of high-tech gizmos, including a compass in the rear-view mirror, heated side-view mirror. Nice car. Rode beautifully. 8-speaker sound, CD/cassette. Sold. The dealer said he'd replace the struts, touch up a few scratches, and sell it to her for less. He'll have it ready tomorrow, and she'll head back to Tennessee. Sis is happy. As long as it runs ok I'll be happy too.
Publicserf
Sunday, June 08, 2003
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
It was a baptism Sunday at church. The Wife is a deaconess, and was scheduled to help with the baptisms. Some of those wanting to be baptized were rather young kids. She had them all ready in their robes when one of the young girls announced she had to go potty, and asked if she could just relieve herself in the baptistry. "They'll be singing a song between now and when the baptisms start, we can all go to the bathroom." And away they went. At least the kid asked first.
After church we went to the wife's company picnic. It was held in the country at one of those pioneer village recreations. We parked, it was sprinkling. We have no umbrellas. Are you sure you want to get wet just for free food? Cheap Wife said yes. Cheap Wife will put up with a lot for something free. It was going to be a good walk to the village from the parking area.
There was a small tractor pulling a hayrack with benches on it. By the time we got to it, it was full. Stand there waiting for the next tractor and get wet, or start walking? Action is better, we started walking. We weren't much slower than the tractor. About the time we got halfway there it turned into a deluge. Are you sure free food is worth this? She was sure, she was resolute, she was enjoying getting wet. So were the kids. I tried to play my role as spoilsport, but it wasn't cold, it was just wet, lot's of wet.
Ms. Pikachu complained her feet were wet. It's raining, that's to be expected. "But it's coming through my shoes!" One more time, it's raining, you're walking on wet ground, it's to be expected. "Then can I role around in the mud?" I'm soaked myself, don't push it.
We got to the tents and got our food. It was standard picnic fare- hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, coleslaw, baked beans and a few others. It wasn't bad, quite acceptable actually. After I finished eating I kept ogling the wife. I can't help it, I'm still quite smitten. Ms. Pikachu reached over and put her hand in front of my eyes, "Stop that, break contact!" I told her that someday she'd bring a boyfriend home and I'd do the same thing to her. She laughed. I kept ogling, she kept doing it. She finds herself quite amusing, it doesn't help that I laugh too.
We wandered the grounds a little to see what entertainment was available. The kids didn't want to go on any rides- spoilsports, where do they get that? Ms. Pikachu declared herself thirsty, walked over to get under the edge of a tent, tilted her head back and drank the water running off. The guy manning the drink coolers looked at her incredulously. I told him she was kind of special. He laughed. In the next day or so we shall see if tent drippings make you ill.
On our way out we stopped at the saloon. Ms. Pikachu and Trainboy each got a long-neck. The barkeep even unscrewed the caps for them, just like the old west. It's like a time machine I tell you. Trainboy announced he wanted to get drunk from his (root) beer. Where does he get this, he's never seen the wife or me drink alcohol? I'll have to watch Cartoon Network a little more closely. Ms. Pikachu made no similar aspirations for her sarsparilla. Who could have told the difference anyway?
Would I willingly walk through the rain for the food again? That would be a no. But for doing something the kids will probably always remember with a laugh, that would be a yes.
Publicserf
-
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
It was a baptism Sunday at church. The Wife is a deaconess, and was scheduled to help with the baptisms. Some of those wanting to be baptized were rather young kids. She had them all ready in their robes when one of the young girls announced she had to go potty, and asked if she could just relieve herself in the baptistry. "They'll be singing a song between now and when the baptisms start, we can all go to the bathroom." And away they went. At least the kid asked first.
After church we went to the wife's company picnic. It was held in the country at one of those pioneer village recreations. We parked, it was sprinkling. We have no umbrellas. Are you sure you want to get wet just for free food? Cheap Wife said yes. Cheap Wife will put up with a lot for something free. It was going to be a good walk to the village from the parking area.
There was a small tractor pulling a hayrack with benches on it. By the time we got to it, it was full. Stand there waiting for the next tractor and get wet, or start walking? Action is better, we started walking. We weren't much slower than the tractor. About the time we got halfway there it turned into a deluge. Are you sure free food is worth this? She was sure, she was resolute, she was enjoying getting wet. So were the kids. I tried to play my role as spoilsport, but it wasn't cold, it was just wet, lot's of wet.
Ms. Pikachu complained her feet were wet. It's raining, that's to be expected. "But it's coming through my shoes!" One more time, it's raining, you're walking on wet ground, it's to be expected. "Then can I role around in the mud?" I'm soaked myself, don't push it.
We got to the tents and got our food. It was standard picnic fare- hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, coleslaw, baked beans and a few others. It wasn't bad, quite acceptable actually. After I finished eating I kept ogling the wife. I can't help it, I'm still quite smitten. Ms. Pikachu reached over and put her hand in front of my eyes, "Stop that, break contact!" I told her that someday she'd bring a boyfriend home and I'd do the same thing to her. She laughed. I kept ogling, she kept doing it. She finds herself quite amusing, it doesn't help that I laugh too.
We wandered the grounds a little to see what entertainment was available. The kids didn't want to go on any rides- spoilsports, where do they get that? Ms. Pikachu declared herself thirsty, walked over to get under the edge of a tent, tilted her head back and drank the water running off. The guy manning the drink coolers looked at her incredulously. I told him she was kind of special. He laughed. In the next day or so we shall see if tent drippings make you ill.
On our way out we stopped at the saloon. Ms. Pikachu and Trainboy each got a long-neck. The barkeep even unscrewed the caps for them, just like the old west. It's like a time machine I tell you. Trainboy announced he wanted to get drunk from his (root) beer. Where does he get this, he's never seen the wife or me drink alcohol? I'll have to watch Cartoon Network a little more closely. Ms. Pikachu made no similar aspirations for her sarsparilla. Who could have told the difference anyway?
Would I willingly walk through the rain for the food again? That would be a no. But for doing something the kids will probably always remember with a laugh, that would be a yes.
Publicserf
-
http://publicserf.blogspot.com
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
We went to the Quad-City Airshow today. It was a good day for an airshow, not too hot, and cloudy so the sun wasn't too bright. I love airshows. There's no such thing as a bad one, because you get to hang around airplanes in general, and warbirds specifically. The Wife took the day off to go with the kids and me. She's done a good job of learning the names of the planes, just because she knows I like them. One more reason I love her. We went with my brother and his family.
There were no WW2 bombers this year. No B-17, no B-25, no B-24, that's rather unusual. There were a few WW2 warbirds, fewer than normal. When flying, there was a P-51B. They have at least one P-51 each year. Not that I'm complaining, they're a beautiful plane. Despite being plentiful for a warbird you still don't get to see them often. P-51's have a very pleasant sound, almost like a fan humming.
A nice surprise was the F4U Corsair. If you sniff and say that Corsair was actually built by Goodyear, and was, therefore, an F4G, I shall have to congratulate you, and then beat you with a pitot tube. The Corsair was the first one I'd seen airborne. I'd read many times of the Japanese referring to them as the "whistling death." I expected something shrill, but it wasn't that way at all, it was more of a low whistle. Perhaps it becomes louder at higher speeds, but it doesn't matter, it was just a thrill every time it made a pass. In the back of my head was a little voice screaming, "you kick ass, you kick ass!" I smiled from ear to ear.
There was a mock dogfight between the P-51 and a Jap Zero. Of course, the P-51 'won,' which was kind of silly. Flying slow at low altitude they were in the Zero's domain. In real life the P-51 pilot would have been lucky to get out of there alive. Even though it was all beyond belief it was fun to watch them fly. You want to know what I really wanted? No you don't, but I'm going to tell you anyway. I wanted the Zero up there with a Hellcat. The two greatest carrier fighters of the Pacific. Not that I'm complaining. I was grateful for what I got, I just wanted more.
Or they could have put the Corsair up there, it was a famous Pacific fighter also. The P-51 certainly saw service in the Pacific. But when you think Pacific Theater, if you think of it at all, you think Wildcat, Hellcat, Corsair, Lightning. If you include China- P-40 Warhawk. Flying Tigers! Ding Hao! Sorry, but the P-51 got it's name in Europe. The P-51 should be up there with a Messerschmitt or Focke-wulf.
While I'm dreaming, how about one of the ME-262's they scratchbuilt in Seattle? Oh baby. They couldn't even pretend the P-51 would win. Not unless the P-51 came at it while it was taking off or landing. Whoosh. You can see them at:
http://www.stormbirds.com/
Well I can dream can't I?
There was an A-10 Warthog demo. Always cool. If I was a tanker for the bad guys nothing would give me nightmares like an A-10 plinking tanks. Iraqi tankers must have been insomniacs. Or they pretended they were infantry.
There was an F-117 Stealth fighter flyby. On the one hand, they're certainly an impressive piece of technology, on the other, calling it a fighter seems a misnomer. They're black for a reason, they fly missions at night. They would never fight an air-to-air duel. They aren't a fighter, at least not in the usual sense of aircombat. They're a precision mini-bomber.
What was particulary neat about the Stealth was that last night Trainboy and I had put together a model of one. When I drove by the hobby shop I just decided to stop and pick up a model to make with him. Cosmic moments.
Last, but not least, because there were six of them, were the Blue Angels. What can you say, beautiful blue F-18 Hornets flown low in close formation, the smell of jet fuel, ear-splitting noise. They're impressive. But I've seen them at least a half-dozen times before. They did one maneuver I hadn't seen them do. Coulda run for the parking lot. Shoulda run for the parking lot. Long lines to get out of the parking lot. Not that it mattered, we'd spent an afternoon looking at airplanes.
The kids liked the airplanes, I think. Trainboy just loved the Shock Wave jet-powered truck. It's something they must throw in for the beer drinkers. Can you imagine that thing four-wheelin' man? Four-wheelin! What all the kids REALLY liked was the Army display. They got to climb on a Bradley, and a self-propelled 155 mm gun. There was also a humvee to climb into and sit behind the wheel. Conspicuous by it's absence was the Abrams tank. Must be due to that Iraq thing. I would say M1A1 Abrams, but some geek would say, "surely you mean the M1A2?" Hardware snobs, gotta hate 'em.
Then we went up to the Wife's parents. Mr. Phillips was there. Mr. Phillips was a B-25 pilot in WW2. Why didn't I ask him if he wanted to go along? Blown opportunity. Oh well, maybe next year. He told us some stories about flying in the Big One. So today I got an air show and first-person stories about WW2 flying. I'm a happy boy tonight.
Publicserf
-
Whine at me: publicserf@yahoo.com
We went to the Quad-City Airshow today. It was a good day for an airshow, not too hot, and cloudy so the sun wasn't too bright. I love airshows. There's no such thing as a bad one, because you get to hang around airplanes in general, and warbirds specifically. The Wife took the day off to go with the kids and me. She's done a good job of learning the names of the planes, just because she knows I like them. One more reason I love her. We went with my brother and his family.
There were no WW2 bombers this year. No B-17, no B-25, no B-24, that's rather unusual. There were a few WW2 warbirds, fewer than normal. When flying, there was a P-51B. They have at least one P-51 each year. Not that I'm complaining, they're a beautiful plane. Despite being plentiful for a warbird you still don't get to see them often. P-51's have a very pleasant sound, almost like a fan humming.
A nice surprise was the F4U Corsair. If you sniff and say that Corsair was actually built by Goodyear, and was, therefore, an F4G, I shall have to congratulate you, and then beat you with a pitot tube. The Corsair was the first one I'd seen airborne. I'd read many times of the Japanese referring to them as the "whistling death." I expected something shrill, but it wasn't that way at all, it was more of a low whistle. Perhaps it becomes louder at higher speeds, but it doesn't matter, it was just a thrill every time it made a pass. In the back of my head was a little voice screaming, "you kick ass, you kick ass!" I smiled from ear to ear.
There was a mock dogfight between the P-51 and a Jap Zero. Of course, the P-51 'won,' which was kind of silly. Flying slow at low altitude they were in the Zero's domain. In real life the P-51 pilot would have been lucky to get out of there alive. Even though it was all beyond belief it was fun to watch them fly. You want to know what I really wanted? No you don't, but I'm going to tell you anyway. I wanted the Zero up there with a Hellcat. The two greatest carrier fighters of the Pacific. Not that I'm complaining. I was grateful for what I got, I just wanted more.
Or they could have put the Corsair up there, it was a famous Pacific fighter also. The P-51 certainly saw service in the Pacific. But when you think Pacific Theater, if you think of it at all, you think Wildcat, Hellcat, Corsair, Lightning. If you include China- P-40 Warhawk. Flying Tigers! Ding Hao! Sorry, but the P-51 got it's name in Europe. The P-51 should be up there with a Messerschmitt or Focke-wulf.
While I'm dreaming, how about one of the ME-262's they scratchbuilt in Seattle? Oh baby. They couldn't even pretend the P-51 would win. Not unless the P-51 came at it while it was taking off or landing. Whoosh. You can see them at:
http://www.stormbirds.com/
Well I can dream can't I?
There was an A-10 Warthog demo. Always cool. If I was a tanker for the bad guys nothing would give me nightmares like an A-10 plinking tanks. Iraqi tankers must have been insomniacs. Or they pretended they were infantry.
There was an F-117 Stealth fighter flyby. On the one hand, they're certainly an impressive piece of technology, on the other, calling it a fighter seems a misnomer. They're black for a reason, they fly missions at night. They would never fight an air-to-air duel. They aren't a fighter, at least not in the usual sense of aircombat. They're a precision mini-bomber.
What was particulary neat about the Stealth was that last night Trainboy and I had put together a model of one. When I drove by the hobby shop I just decided to stop and pick up a model to make with him. Cosmic moments.
Last, but not least, because there were six of them, were the Blue Angels. What can you say, beautiful blue F-18 Hornets flown low in close formation, the smell of jet fuel, ear-splitting noise. They're impressive. But I've seen them at least a half-dozen times before. They did one maneuver I hadn't seen them do. Coulda run for the parking lot. Shoulda run for the parking lot. Long lines to get out of the parking lot. Not that it mattered, we'd spent an afternoon looking at airplanes.
The kids liked the airplanes, I think. Trainboy just loved the Shock Wave jet-powered truck. It's something they must throw in for the beer drinkers. Can you imagine that thing four-wheelin' man? Four-wheelin! What all the kids REALLY liked was the Army display. They got to climb on a Bradley, and a self-propelled 155 mm gun. There was also a humvee to climb into and sit behind the wheel. Conspicuous by it's absence was the Abrams tank. Must be due to that Iraq thing. I would say M1A1 Abrams, but some geek would say, "surely you mean the M1A2?" Hardware snobs, gotta hate 'em.
Then we went up to the Wife's parents. Mr. Phillips was there. Mr. Phillips was a B-25 pilot in WW2. Why didn't I ask him if he wanted to go along? Blown opportunity. Oh well, maybe next year. He told us some stories about flying in the Big One. So today I got an air show and first-person stories about WW2 flying. I'm a happy boy tonight.
Publicserf
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