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| THE CULPRIT... |
Monday, January 30, 2012
Vacuum sealer advice...
Ok, here's the deal. We just sunk a ton of money into a Food Saver brand vacuum sealer, bags, O2 absorbers, the whole shooting match. The only catch is the Food Saver sucks! And yes, I get the pun here, but really, it is a piece o' @@#$. We sent it back to Amazon after a week and a half of very poor performance. And before you say anything-yes we called the company and got some advice that kinda' worked. The real problem is that this thing would overheat(or just get tired) after a few bags in a row were sealed. We also addressed this and the company said to give a little cool down time. We did, and three bags later it was back to not vacuuming. We also asked around and this seems to be a common theme...the newer models are trash. So, that being said, anyone have any advice? Otherwise I'm going to have to unload a crapload of FS bags.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Humor for our sick friend, Stephen...
Don't worry, Bubba. If the doctors mess around too much we'll handle it. I've got a new bottle of Maker's and a sharp new pocket knife. We'll get it all fixed up.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Cool doodad of the week(month really)...
Another similar tool is the Dead-On Annihilator
bar. It has the same basic feature, except it may be a little lighter. I also has a wicked pry bar that is pinpoint sharp(be very careful) and a couple
of wrench heads for common bolts. The backside is very thin and could be used for chopping, in a destructive sort of manner. It definitely looks cooler than the FUBAR, but I'm not sure if it is really any more functional. The FUBAR is probably a little safer. They also run $40-50.
That being said, these are all useful tools. Weight is obviously a concern, but these tools are multi-purpose; a big consideration. Just think about something like this when packing a trunk bag or such. Something like this could get you or a friend out of a jam and, in a pinch, makes a great noggin' buster. Can you imagine coming at some supposed bad a@# with the Annihilator. He may just pee a little. So...just something to look at.
Y'all have a good 'un.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
A great explanation of taxes...
Duke, over at "Down Range Report" has been doing some great posts as of lately. The latest was a story on how the guv'ment could even screw up the Ark. So in response I'm posting an explanation of taxes and how the freeloaders are sticking it to us. This was sent to me by a friend a while back and seemed like a good time to pull it out of the archives. Y'all have a good 'un.
To All My Valued Employees,
There have been some rumblings around the office about the future of this company, and more specifically, your job. As you know, the economy has changed for the worse and presents many challenges. However, the good news is this: The economy doesn't pose a threat to your job. What does threaten your job however, is the changing political landscape in this country.
However, let me tell you some little tidbits of fact which might help you decide what is in your best interests.
First, while it is easy to spew rhetoric that casts employers against employees, you have to understand that for every business owner there is a Back Story. This back story is often neglected and overshadowed by what you see and hear. Sure, you see me park my Mercedes outside. You've seen my big home at last years company party. I'm sure; all these flashy icons of luxury conjure up some idealized thoughts about my life.
However, what you don't see is the BACK STORY :
I started this company 28 years ago. At that time, I lived in a 300 square foot studio apartment for 3 years. My entire living apartment was converted into an office so I could put forth 100% effort into building a company, which by the way, would eventually employ you.
My diet consisted of Ramen Pride noodles because every dollar I spent went back into this company. I drove a rusty Toyota Corolla with a defective transmission.. I didn't have time to date. Often times, I stayed home on weekends, while my friends went out drinking and partying. In fact, I was married to my business -- hard work, discipline, and sacrifice.
Meanwhile, my friends got jobs. They worked 40 hours a week and made a modest $50K a year and spent every dime they earned. They drove flashy cars and lived in expensive homes and wore fancy designer clothes. Instead of hitting the Nordstrom's for the latest hot fashion item, I was trolling through the discount store extracting any clothing item that didn't look like it was birthed in the 70's. My friends refinanced their mortgages and lived a life of luxury. I, however, did not. I put my time, my money, and my life into a business with a vision that eventually, someday, I too, will be able to afford these luxuries my friends supposedly had.
So, while you physically arrive at the office at 9am, mentally check in at about noon, and then leave at 5pm, I don't. There is no "off" button for me. When you leave the office, you are done and you have a weekend all to yourself. I unfortunately do not have the freedom. I eat, and breathe this company every minute of the day.. There is no rest. There is no weekend. There is no happy hour. Every day this business is attached to my hip like a 1 year old special-needs child. You, of course, only see the fruits of that garden -- the nice house, the Mercedes, the vacations... you never realize the Back Story and the sacrifices I've made.
Now, the economy is falling apart and I, the guy that made all the right decisions and saved his money, have to bailout all the people who didn't. The people that overspent their paychecks suddenly feel entitled to the same luxuries that I earned and sacrificed a decade of my life for.
Yes, business ownership has is benefits but the price I've paid is steep and not without wounds.
Unfortunately, the cost of running this business, and employing you, is starting to eclipse the threshold of marginal benefit and let me tell you why:
I am being taxed to death and the government thinks I don't pay enough. I have state taxes. Federal taxes. Property taxes. Sales and use taxes. Payroll taxes. Workers compensation taxes. Unemployment taxes. Taxes on taxes. I have to hire a tax man to manage all these taxes and then guess what? I have to pay taxes for employing him. Government mandates and regulations and all the accounting that goes with it, now occupy most of my time. On Oct 15th, I wrote a check to the US Treasury for $288,000 for quarterly taxes. You know what my "stimulus" check was? Zero. Nada. Zilch.
The question I have is this: Who is stimulating the economy? Me, the guy who has provided 14 people good paying jobs and serves over 2,200,000 people per year with a flourishing business? Or, the single mother sitting at home pregnant with her fourth child waiting for her next welfare check? Obviously, government feels the latter is the economic stimulus of this country.
The fact is, if I deducted (Read: Stole) 50% of your paycheck you'd quit and you wouldn't work here. I mean, why should you? That's nuts. Who wants to get rewarded only 50% of their hard work? Well, I agree which is why your job is in jeopardy.
Here is what many of you don't understand ... to stimulate the economy you need to stimulate what runs the economy. Had suddenly government mandated to me that I didn't need to pay taxes, guess what? Instead of depositing that $288,000 into the Washington black-hole, I would have spent it, hired more employees, and generated substantial economic growth. My employees would have enjoyed the wealth of that tax cut in the form of promotions and better salaries. But you can forget it now.
When you have a comatose man on the verge of death, you don't defibrillate and shock his thumb thinking that will bring him back to life, do you? Or, do you defibrillate his heart? Business is at the heart of America and always has been. To restart it, you must stimulate it, not kill it. Suddenly, the power brokers in Washington believe the poor of America are the essential drivers of the American economic engine. Nothing could be further from the truth and this is the type of change you can keep.
So where am I going with all this?
It's quite simple.
If any new taxes are levied on me, or my company, my reaction will be swift and simple. I'll fire you and your coworkers. You can then plead with the government to pay for your mortgage, your SUV, and your child's future. Frankly, it isn't my problem any more.
Then, I will close this company down, move to another country, and retire. You see, I'm done. I'm done with a country that penalizes the productive and gives to the unproductive. My motivation to work and to provide jobs will be destroyed, and with it, will be my citizenship.
So, if you lose your job, it won't be at the hands of the economy; it will be at the hands of a political hurricane that swept through this country, steamrolled the constitution, and will have changed its landscape forever. If that happens, you can find me sitting on a beach, retired, and with no employees to worry about....
Signed, THE BOSS
"The problem with socialism is that you eventually run out of other people's money." Margaret Thatcher
To All My Valued Employees,
There have been some rumblings around the office about the future of this company, and more specifically, your job. As you know, the economy has changed for the worse and presents many challenges. However, the good news is this: The economy doesn't pose a threat to your job. What does threaten your job however, is the changing political landscape in this country.
However, let me tell you some little tidbits of fact which might help you decide what is in your best interests.
First, while it is easy to spew rhetoric that casts employers against employees, you have to understand that for every business owner there is a Back Story. This back story is often neglected and overshadowed by what you see and hear. Sure, you see me park my Mercedes outside. You've seen my big home at last years company party. I'm sure; all these flashy icons of luxury conjure up some idealized thoughts about my life.
However, what you don't see is the BACK STORY :
I started this company 28 years ago. At that time, I lived in a 300 square foot studio apartment for 3 years. My entire living apartment was converted into an office so I could put forth 100% effort into building a company, which by the way, would eventually employ you.
My diet consisted of Ramen Pride noodles because every dollar I spent went back into this company. I drove a rusty Toyota Corolla with a defective transmission.. I didn't have time to date. Often times, I stayed home on weekends, while my friends went out drinking and partying. In fact, I was married to my business -- hard work, discipline, and sacrifice.
Meanwhile, my friends got jobs. They worked 40 hours a week and made a modest $50K a year and spent every dime they earned. They drove flashy cars and lived in expensive homes and wore fancy designer clothes. Instead of hitting the Nordstrom's for the latest hot fashion item, I was trolling through the discount store extracting any clothing item that didn't look like it was birthed in the 70's. My friends refinanced their mortgages and lived a life of luxury. I, however, did not. I put my time, my money, and my life into a business with a vision that eventually, someday, I too, will be able to afford these luxuries my friends supposedly had.
So, while you physically arrive at the office at 9am, mentally check in at about noon, and then leave at 5pm, I don't. There is no "off" button for me. When you leave the office, you are done and you have a weekend all to yourself. I unfortunately do not have the freedom. I eat, and breathe this company every minute of the day.. There is no rest. There is no weekend. There is no happy hour. Every day this business is attached to my hip like a 1 year old special-needs child. You, of course, only see the fruits of that garden -- the nice house, the Mercedes, the vacations... you never realize the Back Story and the sacrifices I've made.
Now, the economy is falling apart and I, the guy that made all the right decisions and saved his money, have to bailout all the people who didn't. The people that overspent their paychecks suddenly feel entitled to the same luxuries that I earned and sacrificed a decade of my life for.
Yes, business ownership has is benefits but the price I've paid is steep and not without wounds.
Unfortunately, the cost of running this business, and employing you, is starting to eclipse the threshold of marginal benefit and let me tell you why:
I am being taxed to death and the government thinks I don't pay enough. I have state taxes. Federal taxes. Property taxes. Sales and use taxes. Payroll taxes. Workers compensation taxes. Unemployment taxes. Taxes on taxes. I have to hire a tax man to manage all these taxes and then guess what? I have to pay taxes for employing him. Government mandates and regulations and all the accounting that goes with it, now occupy most of my time. On Oct 15th, I wrote a check to the US Treasury for $288,000 for quarterly taxes. You know what my "stimulus" check was? Zero. Nada. Zilch.
The question I have is this: Who is stimulating the economy? Me, the guy who has provided 14 people good paying jobs and serves over 2,200,000 people per year with a flourishing business? Or, the single mother sitting at home pregnant with her fourth child waiting for her next welfare check? Obviously, government feels the latter is the economic stimulus of this country.
The fact is, if I deducted (Read: Stole) 50% of your paycheck you'd quit and you wouldn't work here. I mean, why should you? That's nuts. Who wants to get rewarded only 50% of their hard work? Well, I agree which is why your job is in jeopardy.
Here is what many of you don't understand ... to stimulate the economy you need to stimulate what runs the economy. Had suddenly government mandated to me that I didn't need to pay taxes, guess what? Instead of depositing that $288,000 into the Washington black-hole, I would have spent it, hired more employees, and generated substantial economic growth. My employees would have enjoyed the wealth of that tax cut in the form of promotions and better salaries. But you can forget it now.
When you have a comatose man on the verge of death, you don't defibrillate and shock his thumb thinking that will bring him back to life, do you? Or, do you defibrillate his heart? Business is at the heart of America and always has been. To restart it, you must stimulate it, not kill it. Suddenly, the power brokers in Washington believe the poor of America are the essential drivers of the American economic engine. Nothing could be further from the truth and this is the type of change you can keep.
So where am I going with all this?
It's quite simple.
If any new taxes are levied on me, or my company, my reaction will be swift and simple. I'll fire you and your coworkers. You can then plead with the government to pay for your mortgage, your SUV, and your child's future. Frankly, it isn't my problem any more.
Then, I will close this company down, move to another country, and retire. You see, I'm done. I'm done with a country that penalizes the productive and gives to the unproductive. My motivation to work and to provide jobs will be destroyed, and with it, will be my citizenship.
So, if you lose your job, it won't be at the hands of the economy; it will be at the hands of a political hurricane that swept through this country, steamrolled the constitution, and will have changed its landscape forever. If that happens, you can find me sitting on a beach, retired, and with no employees to worry about....
Signed, THE BOSS
"The problem with socialism is that you eventually run out of other people's money." Margaret Thatcher
Fiocchi ammo review...
Well, as promised-finally-I'm getting this posted. I received 40 rounds of Fiocchi .223, 55 grain, from bulkammo.com a couple of weeks ago but have been unable to shoot due to the Southeast's forever changing weather. There's a saying we have around here, "If you don't like the weather, give it thirty minutes-it'll change." And so it goes. Let me start this by saying I received no compensation from the folks at bulkammo.com, just the two boxes of ammo to try out for them. It showed up at my door just a couple of days after I talked to the company via email; quick delivery. I couldn't wait to get out to the field.
I set up a target at fifty yards to see what we could do with this magic green box of fun. As I opened the box I saw that the ammo is packed in plastic sleeves designed to protect the ammo, not just slammed into the box like the cheaper plinking stuff. This is definitely something you see less and less of today. Usually this treatment is reserved for higher priced hunting ammo and made me think that Fiocchi may have a pretty good opinion of their product.
I used an AR-15 with a 16" barrel and a holographic sight. Just for diversity sake I used thirty round mags loaded at ten a piece, changing between Bravo Co. metal mags and Magpul P-mags. Both had no problem delivering this ammo to the chamber. I had zero jams or FTFs and this stuff just kept on flying. Since I usually shoot 55 grn anyway, this stuff was right on target. Since this range was limited to no more than fifty yards it is hard to say if it was zeroing in any better than the usual brass ammo I use, but after a few rounds of the cheap stuff, it did seem as if it was hitting the center a little more often( I used the top target-a buddy used the bottom to sight in a new EOTech). I used several shooting positions and as you can see my shooting and moving needs a little work; that's where some of those "strays" came from. That's for another day, though. Since my shooting partner was standing there, I handed him five rounds to shoot. He loaded them up in a steel mag( a pretty rough one to boot) and his rifle fed and fired it just as well as mine-no issues. The test was over too quickly.
Overall I'd say this is good stuff. This is my first experience with Fiocchi's rifle offerings and I was pleased. The brass was clean and looked to be in excellent condition and it was packaged against damage well. It was fired from two different rifles through three different kinds of mags and had zero loading or firing issues. It was accurate and reliable; what more can a fellow want. I'd recommend this ammo to anyone and I'd say the folks over at bulkammo.com can help you out. They were more than friendly and got the stuff to my door faster than expected. Thanks for stopping by and if you have any questions, feel free to comment. Let's go shoot some more! Y'all have a good 'un.
I used an AR-15 with a 16" barrel and a holographic sight. Just for diversity sake I used thirty round mags loaded at ten a piece, changing between Bravo Co. metal mags and Magpul P-mags. Both had no problem delivering this ammo to the chamber. I had zero jams or FTFs and this stuff just kept on flying. Since I usually shoot 55 grn anyway, this stuff was right on target. Since this range was limited to no more than fifty yards it is hard to say if it was zeroing in any better than the usual brass ammo I use, but after a few rounds of the cheap stuff, it did seem as if it was hitting the center a little more often( I used the top target-a buddy used the bottom to sight in a new EOTech). I used several shooting positions and as you can see my shooting and moving needs a little work; that's where some of those "strays" came from. That's for another day, though. Since my shooting partner was standing there, I handed him five rounds to shoot. He loaded them up in a steel mag( a pretty rough one to boot) and his rifle fed and fired it just as well as mine-no issues. The test was over too quickly.
Overall I'd say this is good stuff. This is my first experience with Fiocchi's rifle offerings and I was pleased. The brass was clean and looked to be in excellent condition and it was packaged against damage well. It was fired from two different rifles through three different kinds of mags and had zero loading or firing issues. It was accurate and reliable; what more can a fellow want. I'd recommend this ammo to anyone and I'd say the folks over at bulkammo.com can help you out. They were more than friendly and got the stuff to my door faster than expected. Thanks for stopping by and if you have any questions, feel free to comment. Let's go shoot some more! Y'all have a good 'un.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Weekend update...
Well, here I am posting live from a brand new computer. These things have changed so much since we last bought our first "family" computer that it is scary. I went through the effort of digging out all the disks to load the drivers for the printer, modem, etc. and didn't even need them. The computer actually told me to plug them all in so it could set them up for me. Not really used to that to be honest. I had coaxed the old one along for so long that I feel a little guilty- and spoiled. Oh well, I'm sure I'll screw this one up soon enough. Kinda like that first scratch or dent on a new truck. Maybe I should just haul off and kick this thing to get it over with.
Anyway, I did get to shoot that new Fiocchi .223 sent to me by bulkammo.com and will be doing the write-up this week. My projects all caught up with me and the weekend is ending far too soon. So...stay tuned boys and girls. This concludes our broadcasting day. Y'all have a good 'un.
Anyway, I did get to shoot that new Fiocchi .223 sent to me by bulkammo.com and will be doing the write-up this week. My projects all caught up with me and the weekend is ending far too soon. So...stay tuned boys and girls. This concludes our broadcasting day. Y'all have a good 'un.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Sorry...
I have to say I'm sorry for not having been around much this week. I've had some stuff going on around here; my monitor blowing up not to be the least. So, DSW and I are shopping around for a new computer. The old girl is a little tired and served us fairly well. When I can get the old one backed up and the new one up and running I'll be back on duty. Thanks for the patience. Oh yeah, I promise I'm going to get that ammo review done as well. That is possibly on the books for tomorrow. Thanks, and y'all have a good 'un.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Sorry for you...
I once took a class from a guy who used to always say, "Sorry for you" (sarcastically of course) whenever you thought your rights were being trampled on or you were tired. He said he got it from a fishing trip to Mexico where their driver used it. Before stepping on the boat they asked him if he would be there when they got back. He stated, "You go out-come back at 6-I be here. You go out-come back at 7-I be here. You go out-come back at 8-Sorry for you." Well, we laughed at that one and I've used it several times myself over the years.
The reason I tell that story is that it's basically the way I feel about Iran and the loss of their nuclear scientist. I find it ironic that one of the biggest oil producers needs "peaceful" nuclear power to fuel it's country. Really? So I say to the Iranians...Sorry for you.
Come on in...
Welcome to Ron and his The Old Geezer Blog. Man, what a great name for a site. The title alone makes me want to read it; apparently it works 'cause he has quite a following. Go say hey. Thanks for joining in , bubba.
Friday, January 13, 2012
Hidey...
A big hidey-ho to Mystic Mud. I found her blog through Stephen at "Standing Outside looking In". She's a newly minted Tennessee girl living on top of a mountain with quite a brood. Check her out and stop to see Stephen if you haven't been by before. Thanks for stopping and I promise to respond as soon as possible; it may not be that day, but I'll get to you as soon as work allows. Y'all have a good 'un.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Could we do it again?
This summer will mark the 43rd anniversary of the first moon landing. I know, I know. That's not a real landmark date, but I just finished watching the HBO series "From the Earth to the Moon" and it got me to thinking about our country. Our President stated our intentions and thousands of Americans set their hat for putting us on the Moon before the decade was out. The entire nation's might was put to bear on the mission at hand. Engineers, physicists, scientists and a myriad of others spent every waking moment getting us there. Sure it was a time of unrest and controversy, but even those at ends with the country's problems still could find something to stand behind; our efforts to place a man on the nearest foreign body-our Moon. The mission patch of Apollo 11 had no names on it. That was done on purpose. The crew wanted the entire world to know that this was an event that included mankind, the world, not just three men. I can only wonder if that's the attitude we would encounter today. I understand that it is a dangerous blue and green ball we live on today, but still, I wonder what has happened. Moreover, what about our country? Would we be able to stand together, shoulder to shoulder, and put forth such a herculean effort? Today's major concerns run the gamut from Hollywood marriages to the condition of some trashy diva's poodle's diet to the newest video game. I don't hold a lot of hope that we would. What I do know is that there are still a few good folks. Folks like us. Those that hold God, our families, and our principles close to our hearts. The good ones. Something to think about as we finish out the week. Take care and have a good 'un. 
Saturday, January 07, 2012
Welcome...
A big ol' welcome to Hollie B and Keads. Keads looks like he is gun nut like us; try his site. Thanks for poking the follow button and gracing my humble blog. I hope you enjoy. You are amongst friends.
CNN's serious journalistic integrity...
Just saw this and thought y'all may want to take a gander at what a great "reporter" this lady is. She really shows what CNN thinks. There's even a reference to the "horrible" FOX news channel. Hmmm. Y'all have a good 'un.
Thursday, January 05, 2012
Sweet girls...
I just saw a squashed turtle by the side of the road and it reminded me of a sweet tale from this past Sping. Now I know you're asking yourself how'd I get sweet out of squashed turtle, but trust me, as usual there's a story.
The family and I travelled the couple of hours to go visit my parents for the weekend. My Dad and I took the girls for a drive in our car and ended up feeding the ducks at a local duck pond. It just so happens the pond is at the foot of the cemetery where most of my family is buried. After the bread was all gone I asked Dad to show me where everyone was buried. It's not often I get to visit there and the family is spread out. As we were headed up the hill, Dad passed over the top of a fairly large turtle. I mentioned it to the girls who were, of course, dying to see it but couldn't because of their car seats. I told Dad to just back up and straddle him again and we'd pull up next to him so they could get the obligatory view. He said he wasn't sure he could do it seeing as how he was driving our car, but I told him that I had all the faith; after all, the turtle wasn't that damn big. So...as we backed up there was this tremendous popping sound; just like driving over an empty Coke bottle. Yup. You guessed it. We made a turtle crepe. Dad looked at me and I looked at him, both not knowing what to say to the three, sweet, rather stunned, blond girls in the back seat. They of course asked if it was the turtle and I of course lied and said he had already "run" off and that their Grandad ran over a big stick. The little one accepted that tale rather quickly, but the big two were dubious as to my fib. To get it off their mind as quickly as possible we drove on up the hill and made our way over to where my Grandparents are buried. I got out of the car to go take a look and the girls walked with me. Dad sat in the car and waited; he has some serious back issues these days. As I cleared the headstone of debris I started to tear up. A flood of memories rushed back at me in the blink of an eye and the welling up turned into full blown sobbing. Swinging on the front porch, eating chestnuts, watching the Three Stooges and laughing; all of it. Now...in my profession there's not a lot of crying. Hell, in the South, men just don't do it, especially in front of a family that looks to you for strength. But, there we were. Three small children watching and listening with wide eyes and dropped jaws as their Dad, who has never cried in front of them, cut loose with a washpail full of tears and emotion. It was at this point that I realized one child was holding each hand and one had latched onto my leg and was doing her deadlevel best to rock me. Man. What a set of kids. Of course that scene just made me even more emotional and it took a couple of moments to collect myself. I sent the girls back down to the car with their Pa and came down a minute or so later. My Dad seemed worried at first, but figured out what was going on pretty quickly and just gave me a knowing nod. What a great Pop. Not a word passed between us, but in that brief nod of the head I knew that he completely understood. It was as if he had said, "been there, bud. No worries." As we drove around some more I found myself looking out the window trying to avoid the children seeing their Father's face; red and streaked. That's when I felt a small hand reach up by the headrest and begin to pat me ever so softly on the shoulder. Wow. It made me wonder to myself how many times I sat in a chair patting and rocking those dear sweet girls thinking I was the one doing all the soothing, only to realize it was that very act that has helped me keep my sanity over the past few years. After a lousy day I often find myself grabbing one of the small blond monkeys as she runs by and rocking with her. Even if just for a moment. It seems to knock the edge off and put all right. That little hand patted me until I gathered myself and then she stopped on her own. Just at the right time, as if she knew when it was all better. If they only knew...
The family and I travelled the couple of hours to go visit my parents for the weekend. My Dad and I took the girls for a drive in our car and ended up feeding the ducks at a local duck pond. It just so happens the pond is at the foot of the cemetery where most of my family is buried. After the bread was all gone I asked Dad to show me where everyone was buried. It's not often I get to visit there and the family is spread out. As we were headed up the hill, Dad passed over the top of a fairly large turtle. I mentioned it to the girls who were, of course, dying to see it but couldn't because of their car seats. I told Dad to just back up and straddle him again and we'd pull up next to him so they could get the obligatory view. He said he wasn't sure he could do it seeing as how he was driving our car, but I told him that I had all the faith; after all, the turtle wasn't that damn big. So...as we backed up there was this tremendous popping sound; just like driving over an empty Coke bottle. Yup. You guessed it. We made a turtle crepe. Dad looked at me and I looked at him, both not knowing what to say to the three, sweet, rather stunned, blond girls in the back seat. They of course asked if it was the turtle and I of course lied and said he had already "run" off and that their Grandad ran over a big stick. The little one accepted that tale rather quickly, but the big two were dubious as to my fib. To get it off their mind as quickly as possible we drove on up the hill and made our way over to where my Grandparents are buried. I got out of the car to go take a look and the girls walked with me. Dad sat in the car and waited; he has some serious back issues these days. As I cleared the headstone of debris I started to tear up. A flood of memories rushed back at me in the blink of an eye and the welling up turned into full blown sobbing. Swinging on the front porch, eating chestnuts, watching the Three Stooges and laughing; all of it. Now...in my profession there's not a lot of crying. Hell, in the South, men just don't do it, especially in front of a family that looks to you for strength. But, there we were. Three small children watching and listening with wide eyes and dropped jaws as their Dad, who has never cried in front of them, cut loose with a washpail full of tears and emotion. It was at this point that I realized one child was holding each hand and one had latched onto my leg and was doing her deadlevel best to rock me. Man. What a set of kids. Of course that scene just made me even more emotional and it took a couple of moments to collect myself. I sent the girls back down to the car with their Pa and came down a minute or so later. My Dad seemed worried at first, but figured out what was going on pretty quickly and just gave me a knowing nod. What a great Pop. Not a word passed between us, but in that brief nod of the head I knew that he completely understood. It was as if he had said, "been there, bud. No worries." As we drove around some more I found myself looking out the window trying to avoid the children seeing their Father's face; red and streaked. That's when I felt a small hand reach up by the headrest and begin to pat me ever so softly on the shoulder. Wow. It made me wonder to myself how many times I sat in a chair patting and rocking those dear sweet girls thinking I was the one doing all the soothing, only to realize it was that very act that has helped me keep my sanity over the past few years. After a lousy day I often find myself grabbing one of the small blond monkeys as she runs by and rocking with her. Even if just for a moment. It seems to knock the edge off and put all right. That little hand patted me until I gathered myself and then she stopped on her own. Just at the right time, as if she knew when it was all better. If they only knew...
I don't know if that all made sense, but I sure couldn't make that up if I tried. It's funny the stuff one remembers at the oddest of times. As a Father, it seems that I grow increasingly more emotional as the years go by. I guess it comes with age. I'm sure it will only get worse; especially as I try to play spy and follow my girls around on those first dates, locked and loaded, waiting for the little SOB to make his first move. I'm sure they're going to hate me after that all shakes out. Anyway, enough of that. Y'all have a good one 'un.
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
Hidey...
A big Southern welcome to my new friend, Pimpley Bum. Not sure about his handle, but I'm sure we can dig up some salve for him somewhere. Go check him out. He's a straight shootin' Canadian, for sure. No holding back. Glad to have you in the fold, PB.
Cool doodad for the week...
Now I know what your going to say. Hillbilly...this really isn't a practical prep item for my survival. I know, I know. But, it is really cool and a great way to have some fun throwing lead down range. Also, who's to say this wouldn't make a great force multiplier-seriously, think about it.
Monday, January 02, 2012
Welcome. Have a seat...
I just wanted to say welcome to my newest followers, Dakotas5 and Bullets Beans Bullion. Have a seat at the table and make a plate. We're all family here. I'd also like to say hey to those anonymous followers and everyone else that has checked out my page. I just passed 5400 views; not bad for a gravy-addicted Hillbilly. I hope something I post has helped someone along the way.
Sunday, January 01, 2012
Confirmation...
Several months ago I posted about keeping you head low and about displaying the Gadsden flag. Well, I just got another confirmation directly from the horse's mouth. DSW and I were at a friends house for New Year's Eve. At the party was a law officer that I know and respect; he is one of the good ones. I asked if he had ever trained, by DHS, what to do if he saw a Gadsden flag on a vehicle or in a similar situation. The first words out of his mouth were,"oh...that's the symbol of those self-sovereignty nuts." He then went on to explain and give examples of "those types" that had injured or killed LEOs. While I feel for the loss of his brother officers, I just couldn't get him to understand that those examples were in the minority and there was a whole other element in America that believe in and use that flag as a symbol of true patriotism and a dislike of the direction our great country is headed. He kept going back to the "self-sovereignty" argument and after trying to get him to understand, I finally gave up. I felt as if I were a little too close to revealing my true interest in the topic and that I was one of those "prepper" nuts. We had another adult beverage and talked about guns. An always popular topic in the South. Anyone can talk about that safely.
So, what's the point you ask? Do I just give up my rights and hide in corner? No. Definitely not. Be proud, but be smart. Just as we talk about not flaunting and being "all tactical" after the SHTF, be smart about flags and symbols. Don't draw attention to yourself unnecessarily. Blend in and remember the families that look to you. I know there are some that will say I am being over-zealous and that it is their Constitutional right. I agree that it is our right; I also know when to stand back in the crowd. I just feel the need to pass on the things I've learned. Take it as you will and God Bless. Y'all have a good 'un.
So, what's the point you ask? Do I just give up my rights and hide in corner? No. Definitely not. Be proud, but be smart. Just as we talk about not flaunting and being "all tactical" after the SHTF, be smart about flags and symbols. Don't draw attention to yourself unnecessarily. Blend in and remember the families that look to you. I know there are some that will say I am being over-zealous and that it is their Constitutional right. I agree that it is our right; I also know when to stand back in the crowd. I just feel the need to pass on the things I've learned. Take it as you will and God Bless. Y'all have a good 'un.
A government big
enough to give you everything you want is a government big enough to take from
you everything you have.” Gerald Ford
DON'T TREAD ON ME
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