September 07, 2003
Auto Repair
A blonde pushes her BMW into a gas station. She tells the mechanic it died. After he works on it for a few minutes, it is idling smoothly.
She says, "What's the story?" He replies, "Just crap in the carburetor." She asks, "How often do I have to do that ?Posted by: Ted at 08:04 AM | Comments (58) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
September 06, 2003
A different kind of countdown
Possibly my favorite, and certainly one of the more widely known.
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Life Lessons
My aunt passed away yesterday. She battled leukemia for several years, visited with her brothers and sisters within the last month or so, was surrounded by her family, was at peace with the world and ready to go. The only thing she didn’t manage was her very last goal, which was to make it to her next birthday. She and I shared our birthdays. She would have been 87 on Monday.
I just spent a few hours alone out in the backyard. I built a fire and just sat there our swing, thinking and watching the flames. The last time I had done that was with my best friend Paul. We’re closer than brothers; he was best man at my wedding, and we’re godfather to each other’s sons. And yet as alike as we are, we’ve led two totally different lives. I got married and settled down, while he just kept running full speed at life. We’ve talked about it, and we’re both a little jealous of the other sometimes. Paul has seen the Taj Mahal, and slept under the Eiffel Tower, and spent time living in the Ukraine and the Philippines. His first wife was killed in an auto accident, and I was the first person he called. His son, my godson, was killed in another car wreck. He found out by being paged at an airport in Japan as he was making a connecting flight. Despite it all, he’s still happy. He’s satisfied with his life, even after all the pain he’s endured. He has a wonderful wife and daughter, who calls me Uncle Ted. I love them all, and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him. Part of the reason I went out and built a fire was because after reading this idiot, I needed to calm down and regain my composure. To Stump, all I can say is that you are an asshole with no tolerance for anyone who doesn’t act and believe exactly like yourself. You think that the value of life is measured by how long it lasts, and I’m telling you that you are so very wrong. Even after reading that vile piece of hateful garbage you wrote, I hope that you live a long life anyway, since that is apparently all you treasure. If there is one thing that Paul has taught me, it’s that life is too short and too uncertain to hold grudges, especially against a fool like yourself.Posted by: Ted at 10:05 PM | Comments (56) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Young and impressionable
“Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.”
“Excuse me?” I said. “That’s how Jean Luc Picard would order it,” the little yuppie thing gushed. {pause} “Oh,” and I turned back to the counter to pay for my tea. In that {pause} I’d considered and rejected many responses, including the devastating ‘who?’, which would have gone right over her head, and worse, would have invited her to explain who Jean Luc Picard is. I didn’t think I could've handled it right then, especially carrying a piping hot cup of shut-the-hell-up that I just paid for. With the wisdom of whatever race is wisest in the universe of Captain Kirk meets Jason and Freddie, she let it go, probably feeling pity for one misguided soul who didn’t share her obvious passion for The Next Generation. I’ve watched every episode of the original Star Trek, and love them all. Hell, for a while there it was like M*A*S*H; on so many channels that you could usually decide which episode to watch at that moment. I also have a guilty secret – I love reading the Star Trek paperbacks. Sometimes it’s just comforting to pick up a book and not have to work too hard at reading it, because you know what each character is going to do in any given situation. I’ve seen at least a few episodes of every variation of Star Trek since then, and none ever held my interest like the original series did. Deep Space Nine had promise, but didn’t pan out. I had high hopes for Voyager, but after an episode where they come across an entire planet of supreme hedonists, instead of getting naked and giving her all to save her crew, Captain Janeway feeds their leader pecan pie and turns him down. Pecan freakin’ pie!!! C’mon. And that points up the reason why no one will ever be as cool as Captain Kirk. He taught an impressionable generation of young men that you can accomplish anything in this universe if you are smart, brave, and horny. He wasn’t tall. He wasn’t built like Atlas. He wasn’t even that great at following orders. But he solved any situation with his head, with his heart, and with the occasional full spread of photon torpedoes. And he proved that there was plenty of galaxy-class tail out there, just waiting for a human who was smart, brave, and horny. Look at the main protagonist of The Next Generation: Q. Huh? Ooooo, in one episode he shows up and ruins a wedding between his mother and some other guy. Again, huh? What kind of stupidity is that? When Kirk had to take Spock back to his planet for a wedding, it was because Spock had to get laid or die. How cool is that? Jean Luc Picard is Colin Powell. He wants to talk everything over. He needs his ‘councilor’ to tell him how he feels. Kirk is the 82nd Airborne Division. He drops on you like a ton of bricks, kicks your ass with massive firepower, and you can bet that none of your women are safe when he’s around. I still drink Earl Grey tea. Been drinking it for years. I like to think that somewhere, somehow, Gene Roddenberry was standing in line behind me when I ordered a cup. He took my simple preference and added that genius that was his and came up with “Tea, Earl Grey, Hot.” Then he completely ruined it by giving the line to that patina-pated uber-wussy Picard. I drank it first, dammit.Posted by: Ted at 10:44 AM | Comments (57) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
September 05, 2003
A different kind of countdown
There's always a silver lining. It's just hard to see sometimes for the size of the dark cloud.
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Animated Atlas
This is a cool little site showing the growth of the U.S.A. It takes about 10 minutes, and it's worth the time. Enjoy!
Posted by: Ted at 10:43 PM | Comments (54) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Bill the Birthday Boy
Jennifer is celebrating like it’s 1974, with lots of fun facts and historical stuff, because her birthday is coming up.
Bill of Bloviating Inanities just recently had a birthday, so I thought I’d borrow Jen’s concept and do the same thing for him. Instead of a walker or Grecian Formula for Men or Geritol, I present to you, my friend:- - Kermit the Frog, referring to Bill’s gouty toe Here’s what Bill has to say about himself:
“People hate me because I am a multifaceted, talented, wealthy, internationally famous genius.” Oh wait. That was Jerry Lewis. Sorry, I get them confused.
Posted by: Ted at 12:21 PM | Comments (63) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Shredded, crumbled, sliced and chunked
Welcome to the newest Munuvian, LeeAnn of The Cheese Stands Alone. You'll find her link with my fellow Munuvians under 'Link Roster' over on the right. This is just a guess, but I think she's probably solidly in the camp of The Axis of Evil Naughty.
Posted by: Ted at 09:59 AM | Comments (65) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
US Navy History
The naming of ships after living persons is a recent habit of the U.S. Navy. So far, there have been 6 instances. These are listed in order of commission date.
Carl Vinson (CVN70)The Carl Vinson is an aircraft carrier. The man Carl Vinson's service in the House of Representatives exceeds that of anyone elected to the Congress of the United States since it first convened in 1798. During his unparalleled tenure of fifty plus years, he also completed a record breaking twenty-nine years as Chairman of the House Naval Affairs and Armed Services Committee. In that position, Congressman Vinson forged and moved through Congress the landmark Vinson-Trammel Act which provided authority for the eventual construction of ninety-two major warships, the birth of the two ocean Navy. From Capitol Hill, he also guided the establishment of a separate air academy and the launching of the Navy's first nuclear powered submarine. Arleigh Burke (DDG51)
The Burke class of guided missile AEGIS destroyers are the first U.S. Navy ships designed to incorporate stealth technology. They are named for Arleigh Albert Burke, the grandson of a Swedish immigrant, who was born on a farm in Colorado on 19 October 1901. Deciding early that farming fitted neither his talents nor desires, he sought and received a congressional appointment to the US Naval Academy. He entered the Naval Academy in June 1919 and graduated on 7 June 1923. His first assignment was aboard the USS Arizona, after which he held many posts and commands, becoming a specialist in destroyer tactics. He continued to rise through the ranks until appointed Chief of Naval Operations on 17 August 1955, a post he held until 25 July 1961, when he retired. He remains the longest serving Chief of Naval Operations in the history of the U.S. Navy. Hyman G. Rickover (SSN709)
I've already covered him here. Ronald Reagan (CVN76)
Fortieth President of the United States. Slayer of Soviet Unions and chopper of wood. Advocate of a strong military and strong America. Bob Hope (T-AKR300)
This is a “Roll on – Roll off” cargo supply ship, where shipping containers are loaded via truck instead of by cranes. Named for the famous comedian who made countless morale-raising visits to American military personnel. Jimmy Carter (SSN23)
Thirty-ninth President of the United States. Served as an officer in the US Navy for seven years, including tours of submarine duty. This submarine is still under construction.
Posted by: Ted at 08:12 AM | Comments (57) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Stinging revelation
Kate at Electric Venom reports that Sting comes clean about his claims of 8-hour sessions of tantric sex.
"I think I mentioned to Bob I could make love for eight hours. What I didn't say was that this included four hours of begging and then dinner and a movie." And you ladies claim we don't spend enough time on foreplay.Posted by: Ted at 07:26 AM | Comments (54) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Depp
Johnny Depp was quoted in a Stern magazine interview as making some despicable remarks about America. Many people have already taken him to task for the things he said.
Now he's released a statement about the quotes, claiming that they were taken out of context. His statement says all the right things. "I am an American. I love my country and have great hopes for it," Depp said in a statement released by his Los Angeles-based publicist. "It is for this reason that I speak candidly and sometimes critically about it. I have benefited greatly from the freedom that exists in my country and for this I am eternally grateful." and... Explaining his comments a day later, Depp he had been using a metaphor that was taken "radically out of context," adding, "There was no anti-American sentiment." "What I was saying was that, compared to Europe, America is a very young country and we are still growing as a nation," he said. "My deepest apologies to those who were offended, affected, or hurt by this insanely twisted deformation of my words and intent." In this case, I'm tending to give him the benefit of the doubt. I understand that he's said some stupid things in the past (understatement), but in this case, it seems that everyone is willing to believe that the German media reported his remarks accurately. I can easily believe that they did a little selective reporting and editing to make this look exactly the way they wanted.Posted by: Ted at 07:17 AM | Comments (63) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
September 04, 2003
A different kind of countdown
A whisper among the multitudes.
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Thoughts($Randomize(0))
If I could only listen to one kind of music for the rest of my life, I'd have to seriously consider Big Band.
My wife and I have 'our song'. It's You Make Me So Very Happy by Blood, Sweat & Tears. I also want And When I Die by the same group played at my funeral. Not the crappy shortened version they play on the radio, but the original version. Bruce Lee had that song played at his funeral too, but that has nothing to do with me. I like Blood, Sweat & Tears (obviously), but they're not in my favorite 10 groups, maybe not the top 20. With all the animal posts I've made lately, I've considered changing the name of this blog to 'Channeling Jane Goodall'. That would also annoy monkey-boy, and I'm petty enough to enjoy it. Names are important to me, although I'm terrible about remembering them. I always make an effort to pronounce them correctly, which can be a real bear with some foreign names. I worked with a Chinese lady once, and everyone called her 'Sue' as an approximation of her real name. I tried real hard to correctly say her name, but always worried that I was really calling her 'suitcase tractor' or something. She taught me some elementary Chinese writing. I taught her to swear in English. The politically correct would call my wife 'vertically challenged'. They would call me 'circumferentially overachieving'. Tip for guys: If you get sent to the store to pick up feminine pads for your lady, rather than standing there bewildered at the vast selection, just get the package with the most words on it. 'Super-maxi overnight extended-wear with wings' should be your starting point. They now put picture codes on the packages, but you'll feel like an idiot asking the clerk for the ones with the sunflower. Count words, it works. The Phoenix Coyotes unveiled a new logo and color scheme. I like it a lot. I liked their old one too, but this one is simpler and better. I think sports logos have gotten better in recent years. The San Jose Sharks logo is inspired and the logo for the Minnesota Wild is just too cool. You can go overboard with logo modifications and color changes, and the Atlanta Falcons are the perfect example of that. It seems like they've changed things up 4 or 5 times in 10 years. I've gotten speeding tickets in three countries. 'A' claims I've taken umbrage to the use of an initial instead of his whole name, but I hadn't considered the Canadian connection. It makes sense, no umbrage taken. I think he just wanted to show off his vocabulary. If you want further examples of that bad habit, read everything I've ever written. Tim has changed his name from The Michigander to Stranger in a Strange Land. If I were 'A', I'd hunt down Tim and give him a Great White North whooping for calling my land strange. Closer to home, Victor is making fun of Yuppie Scum. This despite the fact that he went to an organic grocery store to buy dandelion greens for his guinea pigs (which are rodents by the way, but I won't go there). Once, while watching a family pile out of an SUV, a friend cracked me up by referring to the children as 'yuppie larva'. I still use that term. To be honest, I don't really care what happens in California -- this is all just some sideshow the rest of us can view with amusement. -- Jeff at Alphecca I admit that I've looked at the California election in the exact same way, but Annika makes some points in this excellent post about why we should care and pay attention. She's changed my mind. She also reminds us that California has the worlds 5th largest economy. But did you know that North Dakota has the worlds 3rd largest nuclear force? My desk at work in inside a cage. Honest. It might impress you if I said what else was inside the cage, but I can't tell you. So just be impressed. Tiger and Stevie have both had computer problems, while SilverBlue has had computer user problems, which can be much worse. In other work-related news, they've been installing a new 'disintegrator' in the building. This is like a super-shredder that eats metal like paper, and it's a huge hulking thing about 20 feet tall with a conveyor belt that leads up into its maw. Ominous looking. Every time I look at it, I think of 'The Mangler' from Stephen King's Night Shift. Wake up, I'm done.Posted by: Ted at 08:01 AM | Comments (60) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
All God’s Creatures
A few days ago I wrote about finding some newborn residents in the space under my backyard shed. I did say that it was going to bother me, and it has.
In an effort to score some cosmic karma points, I’ll tell you about some other encounters I’ve had with local fauna. About three years ago we had a bat get into the house somehow. It finally flew into our bedroom, and I closed the door on it while sending the girls into the basement to fetch badminton racquets. No, I wasn’t planning to half-volley the terrified (and terrifying) little beastie into a wall, I wanted something I could catch it with. Armed with racquets, we entered the room and proceeded to poke around behind curtains and furniture trying to find his hiding place. Oldest daughter indicated that she’d spotted him by screaming at the top of her lungs in a most helpful way (Karen Kinmont eat your heart out), and eventually the bat landed on the carpet. At this point I placed the racquet gently over the top of the bat, and then with even more care I slipped the other racquet under him, sandwiching him between the two sets of strings. This gave us a chance to take a close look at our visitor, before taking him outside and releasing him. I hope he lived a long and happy life, eating his weight in insects each night. Now the rest of these stories need some background. We live in a townhouse, and for several years the house next door has been owned by what can only be called a slumlord. The backyard was overgrown with weeds and trash, and the single mom who rented it was nice enough, but never went into the backyard, nor did she allow her kids back there (wisely I might add). With her permission, twice a year I would toss a few rat-baits over the fence into her yard to keep the rodent population down. She wouldn’t do it, and her landlord certainly wouldn’t do it. Even so, we’d spot an occasional mouse coming through the fence between our yards, usually to snack on birdseed at the base of our feeder. My response was more rat-bait. Last fall, I was in the downstairs and heard some rustling sounds in the room. We had had a problem earlier in the year where squirrels discovered our birdseed stash and decided to help themselves. To prevent that, the birdseed is now kept in a plastic bin with a locking lid. I figured that the squirrels were back, looking for a meal. I never saw any evidence of unwanted guests, but kept hearing that rustling sound on occasion over the next day or two. One day one of our dogs was downstairs and started ‘hunting’. That was it, we were going to get rid of the visitor. I placed the girls – once again armed with racquets – at the foot of the stairs leading up to the main floor, and in the doorway to the rest of the basement. Next I opened wide the back door (walk-out basement). I started moving furniture, and looking through boxes until I found it. It was a rat who had decided to nest in a box of sewing fabric that my wife had. The side of the cardboard box was chewed through, and this rat was turning it into a comfy little home. Not a cute little field mouse from the meadow behind the house, but a rat. It immediately made a beeline for the door and ran out and under the fence next door. Obviously it had come through the doggie door, and had no fear of our dogs. The only thing I could think of to do was to close the doggie door off and toss more rat-bait over the fence. For the next couple of evenings, I’d look out the back door glass and this little bastard would be sniffing at the door, looking for a way back inside. He’d run off when he saw me, and I just didn’t know what else to do. I was waiting for him to die from eating the rat-bait, because it can take several days. I don’t know if he ever did or not, but we’ve not had that problem this year, and the doggie door is open again. One huge improvement was our new neighbors. They have kids, and wanted to reclaim the backyard. Early this spring they started hauling the crap and junk out of their yard. I pulled on my gloves and pitched in, because it could only help the situation. At one point, we were moving a pile of lumber, and I stopped everyone to point out a copperhead snake we’d uncovered. Mom was freaking out, and the boys thought it was cool (they didn’t know it was poisonous). I went to my place and got a bucket and a hockey stick. The snake was pretty groggy from the coolness of the season, so I pushed it into the bucket with no problems and we took it down to the creek to release it. They’ve really kept their backyard nice since then, especially when I told mom that the snakes loved the tall grass in the yards. Another time I had to go over there because they’d found a common garden snake under a wheelbarrow, and her son was trying to kill it with an axe. I was afraid the kid was going to kill himself swinging that stupid thing, so once again I grabbed my trusty bucket and hockey stick. It was full summer, and this snake was active and pissed off. He was striking at my hockey stick, doing his damndest to bite and refusing to get into the bucket. I eventually managed to steer him towards the gate, and he slithered off into the meadow. I’ve also rescued a bird or two in distress. We keep a feeder full of seed year round, and have a couple of birdbaths full of fresh water. Several years ago, I had to remove the tree limb where our birdhouse hung. The birdhouse was pretty cool, because the kids and I built it using two sides of clear plexiglass and you could watch what was happening inside (the birds are ok with this). After an unfortunate incident where I waited too long to clean out the previous years’ nest and accidentally destroyed two newly laid eggs inside, the birdhouse was ever after referred to as the “birdhouse of doom”. The girls really know how to rub it in. So basically I have a clear conscience about those newborn rodents, because I have a pretty good record when it comes to the animals I share this neighborhood with. Yes, what I did bothered me, but it was the right thing to do, if not the quickest way. I couldn’t bring myself to end it quickly, preferring the cowards way of ‘letting nature take its course’.Posted by: Ted at 07:27 AM | Comments (58) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
September 03, 2003
A different kind of countdown
United.
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Could you lie to get out of it?
Country music lends itself to ‘storytelling’ songs, and today I heard one that verged on sickly-sweet. In it a child asked daddy about heaven, and one line in particular stood out. It went something like:
Posted by: Ted at 08:15 PM | Comments (57) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Guilty Pleasure
The Bravo network recently started showing the series West Wing from the beginning, and we decided to watch it. We never saw it while it originally ran, and I only had the vaguest sense of what it was all about. So thanks to PVR (the satellite version of TIVO), we’ve been taping the episodes and watching when we get a chance.
I’m enjoying the show so far. It’s well made and acted, with interesting stories and likable characters. There is definitely a liberal bias here, but it’s still entertaining. Of course, reality is mostly right out the window, and we’ve had to pause the show a few times when I went off when something particularly stupid was said (the show is about a Democrat administration), but even so they good-naturedly poke fun at them too. In one episode, a senior-staffer and his secretary have this exhange about budget surpluses and tax-breaks (not exact quotes, but close): Secretary: “I want my money back.”Staffer: “It’s not your money, it’s our money.”
Secretary: “What do you mean, ‘your money’?”
Staffer: “It’s in our bank account, just sitting there for us to use.”
Secretary: “So give it back and let me use it.”
Staffer: “We don’t trust you.”
Secretary: “What?”
Staffer: “If we give it back, you’ll just waste it on yourself.”
Secretary: “It’s my money. I want it.”
Staffer: “Sorry. We can’t do that.”
Secretary: “Why not?
Staffer: “We’re Democrats.” Each episode also has at least one moment where the music swells in the backround and someone – usually the President, but not always – says something poignant and inspirational. Hey, it's television. As written, I hate the administration policies, but I could definitely respect the President himself. The show isn’t about showing both sides of the issue-du-jour, but they occasionally bring up interesting points of view and very rarely an intelligent opposing opinion. I’ve noticed that they love to serve up as the ‘primary’ opposition argument something that can be scathingly and completely discredited in one dramatic speech. There isn’t much time for nuance, so it’s a little like Barry Bonds playing T-ball. You can imagine the ‘guns are evil’ factoids and distortions they trot out almost every episode, and the characters are painfully earnest. You feel that the characters passionately believe in what was just said. I laugh and gleefully point out the stupidity. My favorite part is at the start of each commercial break when they do a segment called “True Tales of the Oval Office”, and talk about some little trivia tidbit or quote about one of the Presidents. Nifty. I’m definitely enjoying the series. It’s good entertainment, as long as one doesn’t mistake it for reality.
Posted by: Ted at 08:36 AM | Comments (58) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
September 02, 2003
A different kind of countdown
We've proved the point, it's always better to give than to receive.
View image (click here to see what this is all about)Posted by: Ted at 06:41 PM | Comments (55) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Monday Miscellania
Oops, that was supposed to be 'Rocketing Around the Blogosphere', wasn't it. Oh well, I spent time figuring out how to spell 'miscellania', so it stays (is that even a real word?).
Go visit SportsBlog. Kevin of Wizbang! will appreciate it (he’s one of the founders), and yours truly will be writing incisive and biting commentary on the San Francisco Giants, Oakland Raiders, and San Jose Sharks. Assuming, of course, that the sources I steal from are incisive and biting. The Dodgers suck. Speaking of the Dodgers, I’m sure that Annika will be visiting Chavez Ravine at some point. I hope that she wears her black and orange proudly, or at the very least, doesn’t go wearing Dodger blue (there are limits to acclimating to an environment, ya know). Anyways, I found this helpful and humorous guide to behavior at the ballpark. I’m sure it applies to some degree to most every stadium. Tiger points to an excellent (and entertaining) usage of massive amounts of bandwidth. Mookie will like it, it’s got stick people in it! Also Susie gets a little crazy with slogans and battle cries! Scroll through to see them all, although my personal favorite has her clutching a thorned whip as she shouts: "I'm going to spank you in such an unsafe manner, you will wake up from the Matrix!!!" I bet Susie doesn’t have many problems with noisy kids in the theater. Serenity points to a brilliant yet disturbing series of little movies (another bandwidth-intensive link folks). Over at The Meatriarchy, ‘A’ gives a mouth-watering review of BBQ ribs he sampled at a weekend rib-fest. Makes me wanna fire up the grill. Oh, and 'A', there's no way I'm going to believe that's your real name, so you might as well give up the charade. Star Trek. Jerry Springer. Combine them and you get 'Wild Sex Partners From Outer Space'. Courtesy of Mr. Helpful, who promises this next installment of his Shatner Chronicles tomorrow morning. Kate has the Snark Hunt up this week, and I’m in it. See me at my worst, in a totally roundabout way: go to her site, scroll down to the Snark Hunt, find where she links my entry, then click it to get right back here (well, actually it’s down below a ways, which you would’ve known had you actually read it the first time). See? Pure unadulterated snark. Finally… Mookie and I had a moment yesterday. I’m surprised occasionally by something she does, not because it’s smart or dumb or good or bad, but because it’s part of her character that I don’t see very often. She’s always said she hates earthworms (and squirmy things in general, what a girl), and my attitude has always been ‘pick the stupid thing up and throw it in the garden’. Which she does with great reluctance. Yesterday we went out back to clean straighten up in between waves of thunderstorms. I was turning my compost pile and mentioned that there were a lot of earthworms in it, which is a very good thing. Rachael did her gag routine. Since the work went quickly, I decided that we’d go ahead and relevel the shed. I put it in this spring, and despite some care the base settled unevenly, making the doors hard to open and close. It’s one of those plastic types that you snap together, not too big, but you need at least two people to move it. We emptied the shed (garden tools, lawn mower, shovels and rakes, potting soil and such, etc.), and started to move it. As I shifted it, something ran out from underneath it and out the back gate. My split-second glimpse left the impression of a white shape moving fast. I thought it was a lizard, although the white color confused me. It was too small to be a rat, and too thin to be a mouse I think. So Mookie and I get this shed moved out of the way enough to relevel the brick base and there are... babies... uncovered. Maybe 2” long, pink and hairless, not more than a day or two old, their eyes were not even open yet. They squirmed and kicked a little, but were too young to do much more. Definitely rodent, but unidentifiable as rat or mouse or vole or anything else. Rachael didn’t want anything to do with them, so I gently scooped them into a shovel and took them back to the creek* behind the house where I left them in the underbrush. They’re dead by now, I’m sure. Snake or cat or exposure or neglect, because ‘momma’ was not coming back, that was certain. I feel a little weird about it, because I do believe that life is precious, but like they say, ‘nature is a mother’ and they weren’t looking at a long life anyways (especially in my backyard). Everyone reading this should realize that in the grand scheme of things, each of us is a big winner in the cosmic-lotto powerball game. Two things: first, I’ll have to pour a solid concrete pad under the shed to keep the local fauna from nesting underneath. Maybe next weekend. Secondly, this is going to bother me for a while. *Creek is pronounced ‘crick’ as any native northern Californian knows. Don’t argue with me, because you’re wrong. Update: Here are a couple more places to go and people to see, just because they're cool and/or interesting. (bandwidth warning) Watch a sketch being done right in front of your eyes. Cool (said that already, didn't I) 50 Things al Qaeda Hates about America. And some stuff you might not have known about the history of our Social Security system. (He's a real rocket scientist too)
Posted by: Ted at 08:53 AM | Comments (58) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
September 01, 2003
A different kind of countdown
Not since WWII had America focused so intently on a single goal.
View imagePosted by: Ted at 11:45 PM | Comments (54) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
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