Blog number 412 **** 30 August, 2010
I like TV programs that show actual events - like "Cops" and "Jail" and documentaries. One of my favorites is "48 Hours." I like the interviews the best because you get to see the behavior of the perps when they are being interviewed by the detectives. Almost invariably they will say something like, "I ain't gonna lie to you," or, "I'm going to tell you the truth." And you know right away the next sentence out of their mouths is gonna be a lie.
I've noticed the same thing on Judge Judy and Judge Joe Brown concerning a defendant who starts her claim with, "I'm a Christian," or, "I go to church every Sunday," and you know they are going to turn out to be perpetrating some kind of scam. Even Judge Joe noticed this and informed one lady who did this how he found that people who start out claiming to be this or that Holy Joe, turn out to be not so nice a person. Put her on notice that she couldn't hide behind Jesus.
But I digress.
One other common thing about the perps on "48 Hours" is that often they have murdered someone that dissed them in some way - cut them off or objected to something the murderer was doing. They were trying to punish the guy, but the only people punished were the victim's family and friends, who didn't do anything to the murderer. The guy who gets killed doesn't suffer from the murder any more that any other way he would have died, which he was going to do anyway if only the murderer had waited for time to do its job.
The way the victim could have been made to suffer was if the murderer had killed a family member of his. But I don't think that would have satisfied the murderer. It doesn't feel right. Ain't that weird? It seems like the murderer is really not trying to make the victim pay, he just wants to physically "hit" him in the worst way possible, not even thinking of how this would affect the guy he's angry with.
Emotional, not intellectual, logic. Art Linkletter was right.
Monday, August 30, 2010
I SEE YELLOW GRASS AND I WANT TO PAINT IT BLACK
Blog number 411 **** 30 August, 2010
I was driving home from Safeway, listening to music on the radio when the disk jockey announced, "And now, Blackfeet." I liked their music. But that's not what I wanted to talk about. What I wanted to talk about was of what the name of the band reminded me.
When I was a teenager I read a lot of books about American Indians. I read that one of the most dangerous tribes to settlers were the Blackfeet who inhabited the prairie of middle America. Later I read somewhere that they got their name from the color of their feet, which were black from walking through the black ash left after a prairie grassfire, which were very common due to the vast plains of grass and the common occurrence of lightning storms.
I don't know whether the story is true or not, but I like it enough to put it in my memory banks and savor it. Most of my memories are not savorable, so I am grateful for this one.
I was driving home from Safeway, listening to music on the radio when the disk jockey announced, "And now, Blackfeet." I liked their music. But that's not what I wanted to talk about. What I wanted to talk about was of what the name of the band reminded me.
When I was a teenager I read a lot of books about American Indians. I read that one of the most dangerous tribes to settlers were the Blackfeet who inhabited the prairie of middle America. Later I read somewhere that they got their name from the color of their feet, which were black from walking through the black ash left after a prairie grassfire, which were very common due to the vast plains of grass and the common occurrence of lightning storms.
I don't know whether the story is true or not, but I like it enough to put it in my memory banks and savor it. Most of my memories are not savorable, so I am grateful for this one.
Friday, August 20, 2010
IT'S GNUS TO ME
Blog number 410 **** 20 August, 2010
I was watching the National Geographic channel yesterday, a documentary about the Serengeti Plain in Africa where all the biggies hang out. The Giraffes, the wart hogs, the cheetahs, the leopards, the lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Well, not tigers and bears. Honey bears yes, but other bears, no. I think I got that from an old Judy Garland movie.
The voiceover was describing the activities of wildebeest. A wildebeest is a rather large horse faced antelope with hooked horns like a cow. Kinda stupid. Anyhow, these animals used to be called "gnus" and were prominently featured as such in crossword puzzles. Not so much anymore. "Gnu" is pronounced, "new." The "G" is silent.
The wildebeests were trying to cross a rather large river and a lot of the calves got separated from their mothers and as the voiceover described it, "They run up and down the bank of the river gnuing." Gnuing was pronounced "guh newing."
I thought that rather interesting. Gnuing sounded a lot like mooing. The sound, I mean, not the description.
Which reminds me. I once saw (on the telly) a wildebeest accidentally step on a huge crocodile in a river and the croc came up and grabbed the wildebeest's whole hindquarters in its mouth and dragged it underwater. A few seconds later the croc let go and the wildebeest climbed out onto the bank, not a scratch on him. I thought that mighty interesting too.
That's all I got for now.
I was watching the National Geographic channel yesterday, a documentary about the Serengeti Plain in Africa where all the biggies hang out. The Giraffes, the wart hogs, the cheetahs, the leopards, the lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Well, not tigers and bears. Honey bears yes, but other bears, no. I think I got that from an old Judy Garland movie.
The voiceover was describing the activities of wildebeest. A wildebeest is a rather large horse faced antelope with hooked horns like a cow. Kinda stupid. Anyhow, these animals used to be called "gnus" and were prominently featured as such in crossword puzzles. Not so much anymore. "Gnu" is pronounced, "new." The "G" is silent.
The wildebeests were trying to cross a rather large river and a lot of the calves got separated from their mothers and as the voiceover described it, "They run up and down the bank of the river gnuing." Gnuing was pronounced "guh newing."
I thought that rather interesting. Gnuing sounded a lot like mooing. The sound, I mean, not the description.
Which reminds me. I once saw (on the telly) a wildebeest accidentally step on a huge crocodile in a river and the croc came up and grabbed the wildebeest's whole hindquarters in its mouth and dragged it underwater. A few seconds later the croc let go and the wildebeest climbed out onto the bank, not a scratch on him. I thought that mighty interesting too.
That's all I got for now.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
ASK A BABY A QUESTION, GET A DIRECT ANSWER
Blog number 409 **** 18 August, 2010
On the road to Phoenix this morn, we passed one of those "wide load" trucks and a wide load it was. The truck was carrying a huge metal cylinder. I thought it was a rocket stage for another satellite launch on its way to Vandenburg AFB. Soon after, we came upon another wide load truck, this one carrying this huge (again) half a propeller. "What the hell could that be?" I wondered, "Was this rocket going to be launched and then fly around a bit up there?"
"Not likely, Mate." I thought.
And then I recognized that the "propeller" was actually one blade of a three-bladed electric windmill on its way to the Tehachapi electrical power acreage in California. This realization now made what I had thought to be a section of a rocket, turn out to be a section of the post which holds the blades and turbine up in the air. I knew these windmills were huge, seeing three repairmen inside of one once on the telly. But even knowing this, these cylinders and prop were so huge that I didn't get the connection right away.
When you see the whole group of wind mills in Tehachapi, they don't seem all that big. Not even big enough for anyone to get inside. Optical illusion, fer shore.
When we got to Phoenix we went right to Mimi's for breakfast. Several years ago I asked a two year old girl in a restaurant what she had eaten, and as an answer she opened her mouth and showed me see food. Here in Mimi's, I asked another two year old girl what she had eaten and subconsciously I knew she was going to open her mouth so I could see food and sure enough, she did. Hah!
On the road to Phoenix this morn, we passed one of those "wide load" trucks and a wide load it was. The truck was carrying a huge metal cylinder. I thought it was a rocket stage for another satellite launch on its way to Vandenburg AFB. Soon after, we came upon another wide load truck, this one carrying this huge (again) half a propeller. "What the hell could that be?" I wondered, "Was this rocket going to be launched and then fly around a bit up there?"
"Not likely, Mate." I thought.
And then I recognized that the "propeller" was actually one blade of a three-bladed electric windmill on its way to the Tehachapi electrical power acreage in California. This realization now made what I had thought to be a section of a rocket, turn out to be a section of the post which holds the blades and turbine up in the air. I knew these windmills were huge, seeing three repairmen inside of one once on the telly. But even knowing this, these cylinders and prop were so huge that I didn't get the connection right away.
When you see the whole group of wind mills in Tehachapi, they don't seem all that big. Not even big enough for anyone to get inside. Optical illusion, fer shore.
When we got to Phoenix we went right to Mimi's for breakfast. Several years ago I asked a two year old girl in a restaurant what she had eaten, and as an answer she opened her mouth and showed me see food. Here in Mimi's, I asked another two year old girl what she had eaten and subconsciously I knew she was going to open her mouth so I could see food and sure enough, she did. Hah!
Friday, August 13, 2010
?
Blog number 408 **** 13 August, 2010
We went to Phoenix on Thursday, mine wife and I. We went mostly to eat at BJ's Brewery because they got good stuff. We were early so we walked to Barnes and Nobles and on the way we walked behind a woman and four three year old girl babies.
We noticed that two of the babies were dressed in yellow and the other two in beige. The two in yellow had kind of a limp in their walk, the other two didn't, but each of these two also had identical gaits. The two in yellow were also smaller than the other two.
We caught up to them and asked if they were twins. The mother said they were quads.
What they actually were, I am pretty darn sure, were two sets of twins born at the same time to the same woman. Two eggs each evolved into two embryos. I would bet big money that a DNA test would bear me out.
I wish I had thought to ask this woman if she thought the same or if she had had any tests done to determine such a thing. She did have the two small ones wearing different outfits than the other two, and the hairdos were identical for each set, but different between sets, so I think she knew. She's the mother after all. If anyone would know, she would. I am but a stranger in a strange land and I know.
I have never heard of this combination before. Is it a first? I dunno. First for me anyhow.
We went to Phoenix on Thursday, mine wife and I. We went mostly to eat at BJ's Brewery because they got good stuff. We were early so we walked to Barnes and Nobles and on the way we walked behind a woman and four three year old girl babies.
We noticed that two of the babies were dressed in yellow and the other two in beige. The two in yellow had kind of a limp in their walk, the other two didn't, but each of these two also had identical gaits. The two in yellow were also smaller than the other two.
We caught up to them and asked if they were twins. The mother said they were quads.
What they actually were, I am pretty darn sure, were two sets of twins born at the same time to the same woman. Two eggs each evolved into two embryos. I would bet big money that a DNA test would bear me out.
I wish I had thought to ask this woman if she thought the same or if she had had any tests done to determine such a thing. She did have the two small ones wearing different outfits than the other two, and the hairdos were identical for each set, but different between sets, so I think she knew. She's the mother after all. If anyone would know, she would. I am but a stranger in a strange land and I know.
I have never heard of this combination before. Is it a first? I dunno. First for me anyhow.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL
Blog number 408 **** 12 August, 2010
This morning my wife told me a long story about a movie she saw concerning a violinist and his trials and tribulations. When she had finished, I asked her if it was a foriegn movie. Upon my hearing her say that it was, I commented that an American movie would never be about a violinist and she replied, "Unless he kicked ass."
This morning my wife told me a long story about a movie she saw concerning a violinist and his trials and tribulations. When she had finished, I asked her if it was a foriegn movie. Upon my hearing her say that it was, I commented that an American movie would never be about a violinist and she replied, "Unless he kicked ass."
MY BAD
Blog number 407 **** 12 August, 2010
Yesterday I went to the local library and as I entered I heard distressiness coming from a child. Entering the building, I saw a four year old girl squirming on the floor by the door, the obvious mother standing by her. I bent over the child, asking her in my "speaking to a baby" voice, "What's the matter? Are you bored" Wanna go play?" She kinda glared at me and continued with her mechanistic ways, so I left her and went to pick up the books I had on hold. Leaving, I noticed the child was up and doing what children do amongst books, playing happily, the mother still nearby. I quietly asked the mother what the child's problem had been. She said, "She was in timeout."
Oops.
Yesterday I went to the local library and as I entered I heard distressiness coming from a child. Entering the building, I saw a four year old girl squirming on the floor by the door, the obvious mother standing by her. I bent over the child, asking her in my "speaking to a baby" voice, "What's the matter? Are you bored" Wanna go play?" She kinda glared at me and continued with her mechanistic ways, so I left her and went to pick up the books I had on hold. Leaving, I noticed the child was up and doing what children do amongst books, playing happily, the mother still nearby. I quietly asked the mother what the child's problem had been. She said, "She was in timeout."
Oops.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
KARMIC RETRIBUTION
Blog number 406 **** 10 August, 2010
First off, the weeds I burned with my flame thrower have returned. That's good, because now I can burn the damn things again. Warms the cockles is what it does.
And second, that's all I am going to write.
First off, the weeds I burned with my flame thrower have returned. That's good, because now I can burn the damn things again. Warms the cockles is what it does.
And second, that's all I am going to write.
Friday, August 6, 2010
COME ON BABY LIGHT MY FIRE
Blog number 405 **** 06 August, 2010
We have a lawn in the backyard, plants and rocks in the front and a Homeowner's Association for the whole place. Weeds must be removed as soon as possible, or we get a letter from the Homeowner's Association. Every spring I buy an expensive can of weed killer, spray the weeds with doubt in my heart , watch carefully for a few days and when the weeds thrive on the weed killer, repeat the process - all though the summer months. Sometimes I get down and jerk the damn things up by hand.
The lawn got these invasive weeds in it this year, starting at the edges and creeping into the middle. Small, tiny round leaves. I think it's called "Devil's something." Anyhow, I couldn't spray it, 'cause that would make the lawn a bad place for grass for a few years, and I couldn't pull them up by hand - too many and too small. What to do?
I had two dreams about digging in dirt a few days ago and I started pondering on them. Suddenly into my mind comes the idea of getting a bottle of propane for my propane torch and burning the weeds in the lawn. I tried this plan, but every time I pointed the flame toward the weeds, the flame would go out. I took the bottle back to Ace Hardware to have them safely dispose of the bottle and I mentioned something about seeing a picture of a gardener with a flame thrower type thing. I asked if he could find me one somewhere and order it. He said, "We got that here. It's called a Weed Dragon." I bought it. Sixty eight dollars.
That thing took care of my weeds. Burned the lawn too, but that will grow back and if any weeds show up again, they will get a blast of something they won't like. This thing gives me a good feeling when I give it to my enemy. I know it will work, and there is no waiting for the weed to shake it off. It ain't gonna shake it off, no siree, Bob.
I love my flame thrower. I am now in charge.
We have a lawn in the backyard, plants and rocks in the front and a Homeowner's Association for the whole place. Weeds must be removed as soon as possible, or we get a letter from the Homeowner's Association. Every spring I buy an expensive can of weed killer, spray the weeds with doubt in my heart , watch carefully for a few days and when the weeds thrive on the weed killer, repeat the process - all though the summer months. Sometimes I get down and jerk the damn things up by hand.
The lawn got these invasive weeds in it this year, starting at the edges and creeping into the middle. Small, tiny round leaves. I think it's called "Devil's something." Anyhow, I couldn't spray it, 'cause that would make the lawn a bad place for grass for a few years, and I couldn't pull them up by hand - too many and too small. What to do?
I had two dreams about digging in dirt a few days ago and I started pondering on them. Suddenly into my mind comes the idea of getting a bottle of propane for my propane torch and burning the weeds in the lawn. I tried this plan, but every time I pointed the flame toward the weeds, the flame would go out. I took the bottle back to Ace Hardware to have them safely dispose of the bottle and I mentioned something about seeing a picture of a gardener with a flame thrower type thing. I asked if he could find me one somewhere and order it. He said, "We got that here. It's called a Weed Dragon." I bought it. Sixty eight dollars.
That thing took care of my weeds. Burned the lawn too, but that will grow back and if any weeds show up again, they will get a blast of something they won't like. This thing gives me a good feeling when I give it to my enemy. I know it will work, and there is no waiting for the weed to shake it off. It ain't gonna shake it off, no siree, Bob.
I love my flame thrower. I am now in charge.
SO WHAT DID I LEARN TODAY?
Blog number 404 **** 06 August, 2010
Today was a bit enlightening for me. Epiphanies abounded, as they say.
One of my sons told me many months ago that he didn't read my Blog entries that were quotes from other people's writings - usually excerpts from books. My wife insinuated several times that she didn't like them either, but who pays attention to what a wife says, right? This son of mine is not a reader, so I thought it was just him, but today my other son announces that he doesn't like my quotes either, and this son is a rabid reader. So that's not it.
I like quotes from other writers if they are informative, humorous or remarkable, so I thought everyone did. Evidently I was mistaken.
And then just a few minutes ago I go outside and I see a tarantula wasp searching for prey. I run in and tell my wife and she says she doesn't know what those are. I said, "Remember 'The Living Desert' movie we saw years ago?" and she says she doesn't remember anything about that because she's not interested in that kind of stuff. All these many years I thought we both loved that movie, but evidently I was again mistaken.
Several years ago on my first visit to Arizona from California, I noticed a proliferation of black birds with a wedged tail and a shrill whistle. Their wedged tail, they used kind of like a rudder at times, twisting and turning it as they manuvered past branches and light posts.
I asked my son, who had lived in an Arizonian city for many years, what they were and he said he didn't know. Thought they were crows. I started asking strangers on the street what they were, and every time they would say, "I don't know. Crows?" Turns out they were Grackles. I found that out by looking in a book of Arizona birds.
Not one of the many people I asked ever knew what kind of birds they were. Evidently they never even noticed their existence.
My next door neighbor had mourning doves nesting in her eaves, which I thought wonderful, so I told her and the nest disappeared. She told me later that they tore down the nest because she and her husband thought they were pigeons. Morning doves don't look anything like pigeons except they are both birds and can fly.
My epiphany seems to be that not many others live anywhere near the same reality that I do, and that really surprises me.
Today was a bit enlightening for me. Epiphanies abounded, as they say.
One of my sons told me many months ago that he didn't read my Blog entries that were quotes from other people's writings - usually excerpts from books. My wife insinuated several times that she didn't like them either, but who pays attention to what a wife says, right? This son of mine is not a reader, so I thought it was just him, but today my other son announces that he doesn't like my quotes either, and this son is a rabid reader. So that's not it.
I like quotes from other writers if they are informative, humorous or remarkable, so I thought everyone did. Evidently I was mistaken.
And then just a few minutes ago I go outside and I see a tarantula wasp searching for prey. I run in and tell my wife and she says she doesn't know what those are. I said, "Remember 'The Living Desert' movie we saw years ago?" and she says she doesn't remember anything about that because she's not interested in that kind of stuff. All these many years I thought we both loved that movie, but evidently I was again mistaken.
Several years ago on my first visit to Arizona from California, I noticed a proliferation of black birds with a wedged tail and a shrill whistle. Their wedged tail, they used kind of like a rudder at times, twisting and turning it as they manuvered past branches and light posts.
I asked my son, who had lived in an Arizonian city for many years, what they were and he said he didn't know. Thought they were crows. I started asking strangers on the street what they were, and every time they would say, "I don't know. Crows?" Turns out they were Grackles. I found that out by looking in a book of Arizona birds.
Not one of the many people I asked ever knew what kind of birds they were. Evidently they never even noticed their existence.
My next door neighbor had mourning doves nesting in her eaves, which I thought wonderful, so I told her and the nest disappeared. She told me later that they tore down the nest because she and her husband thought they were pigeons. Morning doves don't look anything like pigeons except they are both birds and can fly.
My epiphany seems to be that not many others live anywhere near the same reality that I do, and that really surprises me.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
ALL FALL DOWN
Blog number 403 **** 04 August, 2010
See, you learn things from television. Not like in school where you learn a bunch of things that aren't true. That's an exaggeration, but there is a little bit of truth there. Trust me. In fact, trust me when I tell you to trust me. I'll make it worth your while. Trust me.
I was watching "Pawn Stars" and this guy brought in a WW II flame thrower that was used mostly against those darn Japs in the Pacific war. I knew by watching documentaries and reading books that the life expectancy of a flame thrower operator was between twenty minutes to an hour once he started using his weapon against the enemy. The Japs hated flame throwers, and with good reason. I always imagined they were looking for guys with two tanks on their back, but in Pawn Stars the expert said it wasn't hard for the Japs to kill a flame thrower operator. All they had to do was to look to where the flame was coming from. I had never thought of that, but it made perfect sense, and it made the operator's job seem even more dangerous to me. Just imagine yourself using a flame thrower on a cave and knowing that anyone with a rifle who saw the flame could very easily pick you off, and pick you off they would, as you would be the most valuable target around.
I don't know whether these guys were volunteers or chosen, but I am pretty sure they were chosen. Armies are and were not known for having democratic principles.
See, you learn things from television. Not like in school where you learn a bunch of things that aren't true. That's an exaggeration, but there is a little bit of truth there. Trust me. In fact, trust me when I tell you to trust me. I'll make it worth your while. Trust me.
I was watching "Pawn Stars" and this guy brought in a WW II flame thrower that was used mostly against those darn Japs in the Pacific war. I knew by watching documentaries and reading books that the life expectancy of a flame thrower operator was between twenty minutes to an hour once he started using his weapon against the enemy. The Japs hated flame throwers, and with good reason. I always imagined they were looking for guys with two tanks on their back, but in Pawn Stars the expert said it wasn't hard for the Japs to kill a flame thrower operator. All they had to do was to look to where the flame was coming from. I had never thought of that, but it made perfect sense, and it made the operator's job seem even more dangerous to me. Just imagine yourself using a flame thrower on a cave and knowing that anyone with a rifle who saw the flame could very easily pick you off, and pick you off they would, as you would be the most valuable target around.
I don't know whether these guys were volunteers or chosen, but I am pretty sure they were chosen. Armies are and were not known for having democratic principles.
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