Thoughts on Gun Safety

I was doom scrolling my Facebook feed here a day or two ago when I landed on a post by an acquaintance I "met" here in blogger land who used to have a blog of her own. She has since taken it private and relegated most of her other musings to Facebook. She leans left of center politically, and her post was a photo of her nightstand upon which a revolver (Taurus snubbie in .38 or .357 by the look of it) was prominently displayed. She proceeded to state that she "hates guns a lot" and wanted "all the gun control". 

I chose not to comment on her post because I had more important tasks on my plate at the time, and I know the person well enough to know that no good would come of me opening that particular can of worms. For reasons that most of you will already guess, that post set my habitually firearm oriented mind spinning like a game of Russian Roulette.

Setting aside (for the moment) the irony of someone who hates guns and wants all the gun control leaving a revolver out unsecured on a nightstand, it got me to thinking about gun safety. Not the liberal left's view of of gun safety, but the actual-for realsies-don't shoot yourself in the face-gun safety. 

So, I thought I would share a little vignette from my deep past to illustrate the point which is guns, by themselves left to their onesome, cannot hurt a sole. For crying out loud, someone found a Winchester leaning against a tree in the woods after 130 years. The silly thing was rusted to Hell and gone, but it was sitting there for 130 years right where the original owner left it bothering nary a soul. 

Back to our story. Once upon a time in the early 1990s, I was a young lad getting back into the shooting sports after coming of age and having my own money to spend. At that time, semi autos still hadn't made the full transition to being the primary sidearm of choice for pretty much anyone beyond the military. Heck, this was a few short years after taking my driving test with a state trooper who was carrying a huge revolver. So, I was the proud owner of a 6 inch Taurus .357 revolver. This was back in the day when Taurus quality was a crap shoot, and I didn't have the money for a Ruger much less a Smith & Wesson. Colts were already discontinued by that point. So, that wasn't an option either. 

Small digression, I worked in the layaway department at Walmart for a time while in college back when Wally World still sold handguns and cool stuff like Marlin Camp Carbines. I was working the desk one night when one of our sporting goods guys (great guy named Bud who was a WWII/Korea fighter pilot who flew F2G2 Corsairs [the Goodyear version of the Vought F4U]) brought an attractive lady back to put a revolver on layaway. It was a monster 7.5" barreled Ruger Redhawk in .44 Magnum. I asked her what she intended to shoot with it. Her response: "Husbands". Priceless. 

On with the main part of our story here. There's a point in here. I promise. So, during college, I was dating this young woman. She had 3 sisters, the youngest of which had never shot guns before. I offered to take them both out shooting at what was then my grandmother's property. We load up the Taurus, my Remington 870, I think I had the Marlin 60 back then, as much ammo as I could scrounge, targets and set off for the back pasture. 

After a little warm up, I gave the Taurus to my lady friend for her to have a go. She took a couple of shots, and then proceeded to take a pose in which she rested her chin on the hand holding the gun with her other arm supporting the gun hand's elbow with the Taurus sticking out at about the 10 o'clock position WITH HER FINGER ON THE (please enjoy this soothing music while our author vents a spleen in colorful euphemisms using all permutations of the universal adjective) TRIGGER. Now, granted, she was unlikely to receive a .357 caliber Qtip out of the deal since the muzzle was pointed at the stratosphere instead of her dome, but she'd have had the potential to be deaf in one ear for life had I not gently reached over and secured the gun before catastrophe struck. Besides, I don't like cleaning blood spatter of guns; and, contrary to popular belief, stainless steel isn't stainless. Ask Number One Follower about his Colt Mustang II. 

The moral of the story is that gun's are not to be taken lightly. If you don't like them, don't get one. If you don't know what you're doing, get some training. If you like guns and want to keep them, start educating people about how to safely handle them. 

Thus endeth the sermon. 

RV Life

Well, as I have said before, much as transpired since last we spoke. Life has been hectic as usual which has left me neglecting my blog among other things. I will try to tackle subjects each in turn to do them justice. So, first up is the title subject.

After literally discussing the possibility of full time RV living with The Queen for a decade, we finally pulled the trigger in March and bought a large travel trailer with the express purpose of living in same full time and (hopefully) traveling more. Of course, we picked the absolute worst time to buy a travel trailer with RV demand through the roof in the middle of a buggered up supply chain, record inflation and has eye watering gas prices.

Yeah, we have great timing that way.

We decided on a travel trailer instead of a motor home or a fifth wheel for several reasons. In hindsight, a fifth wheel probably would have been a better choice for our situation (two adults, a growing girl and a 7 animal menagerie). Having said that, the trailer we did get is about as big as “bumper pull” travel trailers go and even puts a few fifth wheels and all but the biggest motorhomes to shame in terms of usable space.

So, to answer the obvious question of “why?”, that’s both simple and complicated at the same time. We had the disastrous attempt at buying a house last year which was a blessing that turned into a curse. With the discovery of mold in the living room, it became uninhabitable for The Queen and M&M who both have allergies to the stuff. With me, the sole provider, losing my job literally on the heels of closing on the house, it became a financial disaster too. Fortunately, we were able to turn around and sell the house at slightly better than break even which left us in need of housing. We landed at an apartment while we caught our breath and figured out what options we had.

If the housing market is nuts, the apartment market in North Texas is insane. We signed a 7 month lease on a third floor unit for more than we really wanted to pay, but it was a complex built within the last 2 years and had no mold issues. There were other pluses and not much negative. We came to despise the stairs especially after coming down with Faucimonia. We moved in and started getting our feet under us again. Things were cooking along great until January when we started smelling cigarette smoke in the apartment. The complex was supposed to be non-smoking everywhere on the property.

Yeah…. not so much.

As near as we can tell from hearing the arguments through the wall clear as day including creative use of the universal adjective and other choice words, the person who signed the lease was a married male; however, he did not live in the unit. The person who was in residence in the unit was apparently the tenant’s “side chick” and “baby mama” who desperately wanted the tenant to leave his wife and move in with her and her baby. That was not happening according to the tenant. Anyway, the hoochie in residence also turned out to have a fairly well developed smoking habit and the smoke started coming through the walls.

The complex essentially had their hands tied in terms of what they could do. Any attempts at evicting the offending person, who according to the terms of the lease should not have even been there, would have taken more time than we had remaining on our lease. During this crisis, the lease renewal offer came in with a minimum 30% increase in rent depending on the lease term selected. Needless to say, this was not a tenable situation for us. After much back and forth, we finally came to agreement with the complex management in which we were let of our lease early with no costs or penalties.

The timing of all this put us moving out just in time for the Dallas RV Show in early March where we happened to run into Number 1 Follower and Best friend along with his wife who were also on the hunt for a new travel trailer. Turns out, we both bought trailers at the show.

For those of you familiar with Texas weather, you are probably snickering in your beverage about now. For the uninitiated, March in Texas is anyone’s guess as to what you are going to get day to day. Snow, high winds, tornadoes, heat, flooding, hail, sleet…you name it, you’ll probably get it during March. Sometimes multiple varieties in the same day.

Our originally scheduled delivery date turned out to be cold, wet and very windy. Since we did not yet have a truck of towing the trailer, we imposed on Number 1 Follower who had just invested in a new diesel pickup. Due to the weather, we were forced to delay a few days and try again. We ultimately took delivery of a slightly different model than the one we originally selected after a weekend of panicky indecision. For the record, I’m glad we got the unit we did.

Why did we not have a capable truck yet you ask? Well, one of the things they tell you when you start looking at RVs is to match your tow vehicle to the size of the trailer. The trailer we chose has an empty weight of over 8000 pounds and grosses out at just under 11,000 pounds. The Queen’s Navigator is getting long in the tooth and simply does not have the towing capacity to pull the new trailer.

Surprisingly, there are very few half ton trucks that would even come close to having the capacity necessary. Ford F150s with the Max Tow package, higher gear ratio and the 3.5L EcoBoost engine is one. The were a couple of others; however, the consensus was that these options were right on the edge of the safety margin and did not handle the weight particularly well compared to three quarter ton or 1 ton trucks. There were even some three quarter ton trucks that did not have the necessary oomph to haul this puppy.

So, after an aborted purchase attempt at a dealership an hour away wherein they attempted to charge me $8000 more than the advertised  price for a “reconditioning fee” which was nowhere mentioned in the ad, we succeeded in locating a reasonable deal at a dealership 4 hours away in Houston on a gently used 2013 Ford F250 with 129,000 miles, the 6.2L gas motor, the right gear ratio, all the bells and whistles, tonneau cover and even a fifth wheel hitch already installed in the bed if we ever choose to upgrade to one.

After the purchase, we discovered records in the glove box confirming that the previous owner had just had a brand new motor installed at a dealership after the original motor crapped out just 2000 miles before we bought it. I’m positive the dealership was unaware of the new motor based on the asking price (under KBB/NADA trade in value).

I absolutely LOVE the truck. It’s a beast. It pulls the trailer without any trouble. The gas mileage while towing stinks, but that’s only been about once a month so far. Doing the math, a diesel did not make sense for us. Had we been towing every week…maybe. Diesel trucks are a significant premium over comparable gasser trucks. We would have paid $9000 or $10,000 more for a similar diesel truck not to mention the extra $0.80 to $1.20 per gallon more at the pump not including DEF, higher maintenance costs (diesels are pricy beasts to work on in terms of both parts and preventative maintenance).

We’ve taken a few “short” trips so far. Once was to a state park about an hour away as a test run to see if anything needed fixing/addressing and to help us learn the things we didn’t already know. The other two have been to east Texas for church related activities about two hours away. Our first “longer” trip is coming up in a couple of weeks when we head to Arkansas about five and a half hours away. We have a long trip in the works for October which will take us over2000 miles roundtrip to South Dakota and back as well as another 1000 to 1500 mile roundtrip excursion probably to Florida which will be shoehorned in somewhere depending on what happens in the near future on the job front.

If you see a big, dark brown and tan Ford F250 stuffed to gills with people and animals towing a 38 foot trailer, give us a honk.

Is This Thing Still On?

There are lots of euphemisms I could use to explain my relative absence from this space for the last five months. Suffice it to say, much has transpired since we last saw our hero relocating to the supposed peace and tranquility of east Texas. I’m still looking for the proverbial country record that I can play backwards to get stuff back not the least of which is my sanity. 

So, let’s set the Wayback Machine for early May when we closed on the “new” old house. 

That was supposed to be a happy day. I was really looking forward to moving in and getting settled after all the chaos from the preceding year. 

Sigh….such was not to be. 

Once we took possession of the house and were able to get in a look around at what needed doing, The Queen immediately noticed the overwhelming odor of cat urine. It took a few minutes, but it finally penetrated my nasal passages which are not the greatest sniffers on a good day. A trip to Lowe’s for a UV Flashlight revealed that, yes, indeed, the prior owners cats' had sprayed everywhere all over the house. The worst of it was the living room. A quick inspection of the walls in the living room revealed that what we thought was painted sheetrock was, in fact, painted wallpaper over sheetrock. 

Well, thinks I, that’s a simple matter of removing the wallpaper (in a room roughly 15’ wide 19’ long with 12’ ceilings….I am such an optimist) and painting the walls underneath. 

 Let’s just say that Murphy is a dirty rotten scoundrel who hates me personally. 

 If you were not aware, East Texas is, in addition to being as hot as the rest of Satan’s outhouse in the summer, humid as steam bath. Why is this important? Well, we discovered through careful research that exterior walls that have wallpaper in a humid environment with HVAC will trap moisture and make for the perfect conditions to grow mold and mildew. 

Guess what we found behind the wallpaper in the living room? If you guessed mold and mildew, give yourself a gold star. Guess who has a major allergy to mold and mildew? If you guessed The Queen and M&M, give yourself another gold star. 

 Not happy making for Daddy Hawk. 

In addition to trying to get settled and keep work going, now I have to figure out how to get rid of mold and mildew off of sheetrock and find a place for The Queen and M&M to hide while doing so. 

 To add insult to injury, my boss called 17 days later and let me know my services were no longer required for the company. 

Well, POOP and other assorted four letter words. They claimed performance issues were the reason. I’ve never missed a deadline or failed to respond to matters timely. Yes, the preceding year or two were a challenge with caring for The Queen mum and dealing with the aftermath of her death, but who wouldn’t have challenges under those circumstances. So much for care and compassion and “work / life balance”. 

So, there I sit. Haven’t made the first payment on the mortgage, no job, a major project to deal with and a house that is unlivable for 2 out of the 3 members of the household. I did the only thing a rationale person could do. I called my realtor and asked what it would take to get the house back on the market. 

Over the next month and a half, I (with some help from The Queen), removed all the wallpaper from the living and study, discovered a water leak in the skylights (which were later determined to have been improperly installed in the distant past), hired a contractor to fix the skylights, painted the living room, hired another contractor to texture the study walls and master bath ceiling and did my best to keep up with the lawn care, car maintenance and job searching. 

We finally got the house on the market, and it sold for full price within a couple of weeks. Fortunately, I was able to land a temporary gig starting right before the closing on the sale of the house which allowed us to rent an apartment back in the Dallas area while we get our feet back under us. There were some other trials in the interim which are not terribly critical to our current story. The temp gig lasted a little over a month before I landed a better temp to hire gig with another company that is much more to my liking and pays better to boot. A big bonus with this job is that it is 100% remote meaning I can pretty much work from anywhere. 

Things are looking up overall. The Queen and M&M are doing much better now that they are in an apartment with no mold. My boss is happy with my work so far. So, hopefully the job will convert to permanent before the end of the year. 

So, the saga continues. Just not in the direction we thought.

I WANT

I have absolutely no need for an Short Barrel Shotgun, and I have issues with paying Uncle Sam $200 for the privilege of a "mother may I?" tax stamp, but that just looks super cool to me. It appears to be a Remington 870 cut down to about 12 inches with ghost ring sights and a ported barrel. 

Black Aces Tactical does something similar for the Mossberg Shockwave 12 gauge pistols. I'm not sure I'm quite mental enough to touch one of those off with 00 Buck self defense loads, but I could see carrying the SBS in a over the shoulder scabbard a la Ash from Evil Dead / Army of Darkness.

I could walk around yelling "THIS IS MY BOOMSTICK!!!" This is Texas. It's legal. It'd be great times.  

Further Adventures in Auto Repair

Free time has been at a premium since we last checked in with Daddy Hawk. Even with the COVID-19 stay in place orders (which are slowly being relaxed here in North Texas), there is always something that  needs doing and many projects in the queue that need attention not the least of which is overdue repairs on both vehicles. 

The Queen's chariot is long overdue for a new driver's seat cover which has been worn through over the years by too many butts sliding across it. One was ordered and has arrived awaiting my time and attention. It's not an easy fix, but it is doable with a minimum of cursing and blood. Pro tip: if you have leather seats, sit into them as opposed to sliding into them if at all possible. I will try to document the process of replacing the seat cover here if I remember to take pictures. 

The Queen's chariot is also in need of a new power steering cooler as the existing one (which Ford conveniently included as one part with the A/C condenser) took a shot from an unknown object (or just let go over time) and is drooling power steering fluid like a St. Bernard with a mouthful of Novacaine. Having done the radiator a while back, I know what I'm in for which is why that can has been kicked down the road a time or two. It's a full day of disassembling the front end, draining fluids, cursing, threatening, begging, praying and generally trying to avoid insanity. The shop quoted $385 in labor to do it for me.  So, I'll be sucking it up and getting my hands dirty with that one soonish.

The Queen's chariot is not done with me yet. While I'm throwing wrenches at the power steering cooler / AC condenser, I have to go chasing a radiator fluid leak. I'm hoping it's just a loose clamp. I can't see any evidence that there is a more serious problem, but one never knows when you are talking about a motor with over 260,000 miles on it. Never let it be said I don't get my money's worth out of my vehicles.  

That leaves the project F150. I just replaced the radiator which had a hairline crack and was at least partially responsible for my coolant leak and overheating issues there. I suspect it has a leaking head gasket and will be testing that soon. It also sprouted a transmission fluid leak which I suspect is coming from an overtightened pan gasket. I just need a dry afternoon to get under there with a torque wrench and verify that. I have a replacement gasket for it if necessary. While I was crawling around under it a couple of weeks ago, I also noticed this:

I'm 85% sure that wasn't like that when I put the bed back on after replacing fuel pumps, but I'm also 100% sure it was hanging by a thread because it's always had a more or less straight pipe sound. I've  got a quote from the local muffler shop that I like which will be done after it's road tested. 

Way down the list for this truck is a rebuilt engine. I'm going to stick with the stock 302/5.0L block, but I'm hoping to tweak a little more horsepower and torque out of it in the process. Discussions will need to be had with my cousin the mechanic before deciding which way to go. I'd really like to ditch the automatic transmission and swap in a 5 speed manual, but that's just crazy talk....which means I'm seriously researching how to make it happen. 

This, of course, means I need to invest in more tools. What a shame. 

Animal Magnetism

Several months ago, I related the tale of rescuing a cat from the center median of an interstate highway. In that post, I mentioned The Queen's gift/curse relating to animals in distress. I am convinced that The Queen puts off a pheromone or the psychic equivalent of the bat signal for animals in distress. It doesn't matter what part of the animal kingdom is involved, they seem to have a knack for finding The Queen. So far, the list of animals she has assisted includes multiple varieties of birds, cats and dogs, snakes, bunnies, turtles and more.

Well, Friday night it happened again. 

The Queen, M&M and I went out for dinner and dessert in Fort Worth. Dessert was at the Food Hall at Crockett Row in the West 7TH area of  Fort Worth. This is one of those multiple use shopping/dining/residential/entertainment developments with mid-rise apartments built above the commercial lease spaces on the ground floors. There is both garage parking and street level parking available. This particular evening, we chose the street level parking. 

We had a lovely dessert of cupcakes from Gigi's Cupcakes in the Food Hall, and we had just gotten back to our car when The Queen heard the faintest of "mews". We all turned around to see this tiny little half starved kitten running up to us with that "Hey buddy, could you spare food?" look. 

You see where this is going I'm sure. 

We spent about an hour out there on the street taking turns petting him, looking for possible places he could have come from (none were apparent - apartments above, parking garage below and across the street), finding him some food to eat (he tore up a small bowl of chicken shawarma and some cream), discussing the insanity of bringing little fuzzball to the menagerie, etc. 

We eventually decided that there was no momma kitty or siblings nearby nor any likely place where he could call home. So, we picked him up and headed to the car. He road home like he was a pro at riding in cars. No freaking out. No crying. Just curled up and purred contentedly. 

He bears a striking resemblance to my beloved and dearly departed cat Sneaker. He talks a lot and purrs almost non-stop. He's been attacking my hands and feet while I've been writing this. We haven't decided on a name yet, but we have several contenders. 

M&M wanted to name him Kung Pao. That was a hard no for The Queen and I. Snickerdoodle was an early suggestion/rejection. Earl Grey was given the boot. Friday was discussed, but died for lack of  enthusiasm. Iggy, Igor and Ozzy (Clawsborne) are the current leading candidates. We shall see what sticks as his personality comes out.  

An Insider's Guide To Claims Adjusting - Crazy Stuff

My best friend, Number One Follower, made the comment not too long ago that it would be good blog fodder to write about some of the more interesting things I deal with on a regular basis as a claims adjuster. Coincidentally, the company I work for (that has a very well known and popular ad campaign centered around..."interesting" claims) sent out a request for interesting claim stories from the casualty claims organization (think bodily injury as opposed to homeowner property claims) for consideration to be included in the ad campaign. There were several restrictions on things you could submit: Nothing involving severe bodily injury or death, it had to be "safe for work", etc.

After a 20 plus year career of handling high exposure and litigated third party liability claims, I've seen a lot of crazy stuff. When I stepped back and thought about the "interesting" claims I've handled, all of them would have been rejected for one reason or another. So, I'll just have to inflict some of that stuff on you poor souls here rather than have the glory of my claims being immortalized in a TV commercial.

How crazy is crazy you ask?

Well, let's start with the photos. The vast majority of claims files have photos in them. Most are pretty mundane....dented bumpers, wet floor signs and the like. But, some photos....hoooweeee...wow. They'd give a normal person nightmares. And, no, before you ask, I'm not going to post copies of them here...my mother reads this blog and I don't keep copies if I don't have to.

Back in the day, when dinosaurs roamed the earth and adjusters had actual paper files, we would get snail mail delivered to our desks. Depending on when the clerical staff got to your desk, it was better than even odds that you'd get your mail after lunch. Even if you did get your mail before lunch, chances were that you wouldn't get to it until after lunch.

Let me tell you...nothing quite makes the hair on the back of intestines stand up like dead body photos after a tasty lunch of pasta or barbecue (Brigid...I'm looking forward to your commentary from the secret squirrel forensic scientist gallery).

Nowadays, everyone has an electronic claims file and mail magically appears in your file after being scanned by some faceless clerical worker in another city (sometimes another country). Those documents show up sans description at all hours of the day and night. You have to go in and look at and label each one. One minute, you're looking at dry medical reports, and the next minute you're getting an eyeful of some guy's scrotum or some dearly departed's autopsy photos. Sometimes those are one and the same. 

Like I said, it'll get your attention. You don't last long in this business unless you develop a thick skin and a strong stomach.

So, what are some of the crazy photos I've seen?

The all time winner for "brain bleach" craziest photo award goes to the autopsy photo of the "gentleman" (and I'm using that term as loosely as possible in this case) who died in an auto accident. What made his autopsy photos unforgettable was his tattoo. Specifically, the location and subject matter of his tattoo. This grade A specimen of masculinity had tattooed his manhood to look like a candy cane.

Let that sink in for a moment. To this day, I am convinced he was a child molester.

Runner up for the "brain bleach" award was the scorching hot hoohah claim. Seems a lady was getting ready for her day; and, as many women are inclined to do, she flipped her freshly washed locks of hair in front of her body so she could blow dry her hair from the bottom up. Allegedly, her hair dryer suddenly turned into a flame thrower and she inflicted second degree burns upon her nether regions. Her attorney felt the need to send me unsolicited photos of her injuries. Call me a sexist pig if you wish, but she was not that attractive before she received second degree burns to her naughty bits.

The winner of the "how in the hell did that happen" award goes to the drunk driver who managed to incinerate himself and 2 of 3 closest friends while motoring down 410 in San Antonio (contestant number 4 got launched out of the pickup bed and died of blunt force trauma after he failed to learn how to fly before impacting the road about 100 yards away from the crash site), in a construction zone, at speeds in excess of 90 miles per hour. Apparently, a solid concrete construction barrier, in a clear attempt to commit suicide by drunk driver, jumped into the right lane of traffic when our intrepid Mario failed to zig when he was zagging. For the record, Dodge pickups will burst into flames when they are split in half down the middle of the engine block.

What made this claim a puzzler was the photos of the engine compartment. The fact that the engine block was severely damaged was not nearly as surprising as the charred leg that was nestled in amongst the remains of the heater hoses and other assorted engine components. What was even more surprising was that the leg was still attached to its owner who was still in the cab of the pickup. Somehow, superman had managed to put his foot and leg through the firewall of the truck into the engine compartment. We never did figure out how that happened exactly.

Most of the other photos that have found a permanent home in my memory are pretty gruesome. I'll save those memories for a dedicated gruesome post.

Crazy doesn't always come in the form of photos though.

Once upon a time, I had a copy of the driving record of a drunk that was pretty interesting. He had six DWIs in a pretty short period of time. What made it remarkable was the two DWIs in 1 day. We actually called him to clarify that one expecting it to be a mistake. Nope. He was arrested shortly after midnight for number 1, bailed out in the morning, got soused again and was arrested again before midnight.

To borrow Ron White's famous line: You can't fix stupid.

Deposition testimony is generally pretty boring. Every once in a great while, things get a little...um...racy. Once upon a time, I handled a car wreck claim involving a woman making claim for TMJ (temporomandibular joint disorder). Basically, she hurt her jaw. I'm not sure how since we never found bite marks on the steering wheel, but what do I know? Any way, the reason this claim earned a place in long term storage was the derivative claim for loss of consortium (the fancy legal term for loss of "family relationship") made by her husband.

When my defense attorney took her deposition, he asked her about the claim for loss of consortium. Now, loss of consortium generally, but not always, refers to the loss of intimacy between a married couple. So, in response to my attorney's question about how the accident and her injuries affected her marriage, the plaintiff testified that she could no longer "...give her husband [oral sex]...."

Her husband later showed up at my office, and he had to be escorted from the premises by the local police department after he exhibited some uncouth, demanding behavior.

That's all for now. More to follow as time and memory allows.

Things You Don't See Everyday

Some people have truck dogs. I happen to have a truck cat.

Tinkle, for reasons that escape me, is surprisingly chill when it comes to riding in cars. So far as I know, he's the only cat I've ever heard of that actually ASKS to ride in a vehicle.

Wait, what?

Yep, you heard that right. I had to run an errand this afternoon, and I was waiting in the truck for The Queen to join me. I looked over into the front yard, and there was Tinkle walking up. He sat down, looked me right in the eye and meowed. So, I opened the passenger door, and he just hops up in the truck pretty as you please.

Tinkle enjoyed some one on one Daddy Hawk loving time, and then The Queen joined us. Tinkle showed no interest in leaving; and, since it was cool out and a short trip, we just ran our errand with him along for the ride.

He curled up in the backseat and chilled. Sometimes he would come up front to say hi or get his ears scratched. When got home, he got out of the car with us.

Living With Alzheimer's

As I mentioned not too long ago, Oma (The Queen's Mum) is afflicted with what appears to be Alzheimer's Disease. I say "appears to be" as Oma has never been formally evaluated or diagnosed because she and Opa have a serious case of avoiding the medical community. Said avoidance is partially rooted in their religious beliefs that God is the source of all healing, and their faith that God will heal them in His time (which may or may not be in their physical lifetime). Some of said avoidance comes from Opa's  pathological, and nearly obsessive/compulsive, germaphobia (which is a story in and of itself for another time). The remaining reasons for their avoidance is a mix of distrust of  medical doctors, too much internet, major procrastination and a few other things to boot.

Having said that, Oma exhibits many telltale Alzheimer's symptoms. So, some may quibble and say she has dementia instead of Alzheimer's. To them, I say "po-tay-to" / "po-tah-to". The end result is the same: Oma is nuttier than the backyard squirrels.

So, what's it like to live with an Alzheimer's person?

Strange is probably the best description. Frequently illogical and frustrating. Occasionally terrifying or amusing. Always sad, and generally unpredictable.

In a way, it is like living with a young child. You are constantly watchful for dangerous behavior, correcting, guiding, etc. The unfortunate part is that, unlike a small child who is constantly learning and developing, the Alzheimer's afflictee is incapable of remembering new information and begins to loose their grasp on long established behaviors.

Case on point: hygiene. You, me and pretty much 99% of the population older than the age of 3 or 4 has a pretty solid grasp on what's involved with going to the bathroom. Take care of business, wipe, tidy/clean up as necessary, flush the toilet, wash your hands with soap, dry your hands and go about your day. For the Alzheimer's person, each step in the process is an opportunity for disaster. We pretty much have to be eternally vigilant to insure that each step is properly taken care of in the proper order. We frequently have to remind Oma of one or more steps in the process. It goes something like this:

Us: Oma, you need to wash your hands.

Oma: I just did.

Us: No, you didn't.

Oma: Yes, I did.

Us: Oma, we were standing right here. You haven't washed your hands yet.

Oma: What do you mean?

Us: Oma, please just wash your hands again.

Oma: Okay, but this is crazy.

Us: Use soap Oma.

Oma: What's soap?

Us: [praying silently for patience]

She can, and has, forgotten one or more steps in the process on multiple occasions, and it's akin to Russian Roulette as to which step will be the odd man out on any given day.

Getting her to shower is a challenge. She can sit there smelling riper than a summertime outhouse and adamantly insist that she just took a shower when you suggest it's time to bathe. Ditto for brushing her teeth.

I mentioned in a previous post about Sundowner Syndrome which is a joyful aspect of Alzheimer's. That's still hanging around. Her anxiety really increases an hour or two after sunset for some reason. Tonight was especially bad. We were out for dinner at a crowded restaurant, and she kept wanting to get up from the table to go looking for Opa (who was at home). Unfortunately, her anxiety was so overwhelming, she couldn't even form a coherent sentence to communicate what she wanted. She just kept pointing towards the door and saying "Can we...um...over there....him..." or similar things.

One rather annoying trait that has manifested itself is an apparent compulsion to whistle constantly. Everyday. It's the same few songs. Over and over and over again. It's like she has a very short playlist stuck in her head, and feels the need to whistle the Blue Danube Waltz, Take Me Out To The Ballgame, or a handful of other songs at any given moment.  The mood usually strikes when she gets bored (which is often) or when anyone else in the house happens to whistle for any reason (it's like speaking the devil's name and he will come). We try to distract her with reading magazines (which she chooses to read out loud for some reason) or old TV shows. The Andy Griffith Show has been on nightly reruns here at the house for the last 3 months or so ever since Opa discovered the complete series on Netflix.

There is a set of related behaviors that I find really odd and particularly frustrating. She will get into anything and everything, move things around or take them, and then hide things. There was almost a knockdown fight between The Queen and Oma over her raiding M&M's piggy bank. The Queen discovered the situation just in time to see Oma stuffing M&M's stash of small bills into her pants. Oma steadfastly denied taking anything even when confronted with the evidence. We have to keep an eye on Oma's every move because she is constantly taking things and putting them where they don't belong or stashing them. M&M's stuffed animals are frequently moved around the house. If Oma doesn't finish her dinner, she will stash her leftovers in the cubbyhole of the headboard on her side of  the bed (which, interestingly, is also her chosen place to stash dirty underwear) or in the oven.

Oma can get downright creepy sometimes. I will occasional banish myself to the couch or M&M's bed (when M&M has jumped into our bed) after The Queen has poked me for the 5TH or 6TH time that evening for the unpardonable sin of snoring and keeping her awake. I have been awakened a couple of times by Oma fumbling her way around the house in the dark on her way to or from the bathroom for a late night potty break. If I'm really lucky, Oma is wearing clothes when this happens.

She has also lost any concept of personal space and tends to be a bit grabby. She's got a pretty firm grip too.

So far, we haven't had to worry about Oma wandering off, but we also don't let her go outside unattended. We also have had to prevent her from just answering a door knock without checking who is there.

Not everything she does is a negative. She remains very thoughtful in some ways. When we bring her a plate of food, she always offers to share it with whoever is nearby. "You want some of this?" We always remind her that that's her food, and that everyone else has their own food. She is still a happy person overall when she's not frustrated with us over asking her to take a shower or wash her hands. On the plus side, she no longer tries to convince complete strangers that they are Jewish or have Jewish ancestry (which was actually pretty funny...especially if the strangers were people of color).

It saddens me that her memory has more holes than Swiss cheese. She does not remember M&M is her granddaughter and doesn't even know her name anymore. She sometimes forgets M&M is a girl and asks where that "little boy" went. Most days she doesn't even remember her own name. She still knows that Opa is her husband, but I don't think she remembers his name either. She doesn't remember who her kids are.

It's That Time Of Year Again

I went to Lowe's with Mimi 3 days before Halloween.  There were three or four rows plus the main area at the front of the store full of Christmas decorations. There was a very small area of Thanksgiving decorations on clearance. Something is wrong with this picture. Just saying.

Tilting at Liberals 2: The Rebuttaling

Back in July, I posted about the exchange I had on Facebook with the liberal lamenting how minimum wage will not support a two bedroom apartment. There was more to the exchange. Unfortunately, I never got around to finishing posting the response to my response. So, now that I have all this glorious time on my hands, I figured it was time to get back into the swing of things and wrap up some loose ends.

First, her response:

I understand your point and agree with it as well, but I was thinking more about the people who DO have skills but are down on their luck and can't FIND work that suits their abilities. Yes, those jobs that pay minimum wage are GREAT for unskilled teens who don't need to necessarily support themselves and a family. There are a lot of elderly however who are barely existing because they can't make a decent wage, and they have no one to help them make ends meet. Even $10 an hour is hardly enough to live on and support a family with these days and there are PLENTY of jobs for SKILLED workers that only pay $9 or $10. I was referring to those companies that DON'T pay what a worker is worth, but the workers don't really have much of a choice but to work for a low wage OR starve, and many of them are barely eating as it is. I definitely didn't mean to offend you, or anyone else, [Daddy Hawk], with my post. ;)

I, myself, have skills, but am not able, at this point, with my health issues, to work enough hours to support myself. I'm hoping that the improvements I'm trying to make will allow me to begin to work soon. I'm working on a disability case until I can get my health back to that point, but I will NOT be able to exist on just disability, even.

My girls are sharing living expenses, and I hope that they do work hard to improve their skills and that they WON'T start families until they either themselves are able to support one, or until their future husbands are able to do so! Unfortunately, with my health the way it has been for so long, and with me being the ONLY parent around, and no one else really playing a role as mentor, they haven't seen the examples that many kids in the church have been exposed to, of hardworking parents with skills that help them make a good wage, usually of a Father who supports the family with HIS skills and a mother who is able to stay home and be there full time for the kids. We definitely haven't had the ideal life, but God has provided for us in spite of that. I pray He will help my girls to learn on their own what they need to know and that they will work hard and keep their health unlike myself. ;)

Now, I had originally intended to do a thorough fisking of her response. As I started drafting my response though, I discovered that there was a lot I wanted to say that didn’t fit well with a good old fashioned, beat down because her response didn’t contain enough to work with for a launching point. So, instead, I decided to just go with a detailed counter response and let fly.

[Facebook Liberal], first off, you have nothing to apologize for, and you did not offend me. I took issue with the political agenda behind the image you shared by a Washington DC based, liberal, lobbying group and expressed my opinion countering that agenda. The image is rhetoric, pure and simple, and misrepresents the issue to garner sympathy and support from people who have neither the time or interest to really understand the issue. Which is exactly how we wind up with social programs that cost more than the country can afford and don't work to boot.

Let's take a close look at the smoke and mirrors behind the image for a moment. As Mark Twain said, "There are lies, damned lies and statistics." The image says that nowhere in the US can you afford a 2 bedroom apartment working 40 hours a week earning minimum wage. 40 hours a week at $7.25 per hour for 52 weeks is $15,080 a year ($1256.66 per month). They expect you to assume that a person earning minimum wage will receive no other forms of assistance so that they have to rely solely on that meager (you know that's what they are thinking) amount of money.

No discussion of earnings would be complete without taking federal and state income tax withholding, social security or the now federally mandated health insurance requirement into account. Medicare and SSDI taxes hit your paycheck for 7.65% combined. Federal income tax withholding claiming 9 deductions is 8% according to my last paycheck. So, let’s call total withholding something between 15% and 20% for most people. One week of wages at $7.25 per hour is $290. Net take home without considering insurance is between $232.00 and $246.50. It's not a ton of money, but it will go farther than you think if you make wise choices. 

Insurance is expensive no matter how you slice it, and it has only gotten worse since Congress bent us all over a barrel with the “Affordable” Care Act. But, let’s consider reality for a moment. If you are between 16 and 25 (or 26…I forget the cut off) [which is also the demographic most likely to be earning minimum wage], you still qualify for mommy and daddy’s insurance plan. So, you reject the healthcare coverage offered by your employer (assuming you are lucky enough to have employer provided healthcare) and continue believing you are invincible because you are young and employed. The other end of the demographic scale that earns minimum wage is retirees (those 62 and older). They qualify for Medicare which is a whole other can of worms that I’m not well versed enough to open.

Next, they want you to assume that a 2 bedroom apartment is the bare minimum that someone needs to survive. Perhaps. Perhaps not. The unspoken assumption here is that they want you to visualize ONE person earning minimum wage HAS to afford a 2 bedroom apartment to house a family instead of just themselves. Otherwise, why mention a 2 bedroom at all? I think you and I can agree that a single person can get by just fine with an efficiency or even a small one bedroom apartment. That's cuts your rent needs by 30 to 50% easily. So, they obviously expect you to add kids to the mix so that you feel more sympathetic to the cause. How many? 1? 2? 10? I won't try to argue that parent(s) + 10 will fit in a one bedroom apartment, but I will say that you can make mom, dad and 2 or 3 work in a one bedroom.

Now, they expect you to believe that NOWHERE in the US can you find a 2 bedroom apartment within the budgetary means of one person earning minimum wage. How exhaustive has their study been? How many people are really affected by the problem to begin with? Many a young (or elderly) married couple quite happily share small apartments without fuss or bother. Before we sold Castle Erickson, there was a nice young couple (she was an artist and he was an engineering major) who rented a garage apartment from a neighbor for the low, low price of performing maintenance around the property as needed. I personally rented a two bedroom apartment for $425 a month that I shared with a friend. Granted that was 20 years ago, but that dump hasn't gone up that much in rent even ignoring Section 8 assistance. And that completely ignores the movement of people living in 100-200 square foot tiny houses partially or completely off the grid and mostly debt free (Google "Tiny House Movement" or Tiny Houses...fascinating concept).

Based on my own recent research, NICE 2 bedrooms are starting at about $900 a month (roughly $10,800 a year in rent) in the Collin County suburbs. No minimum wage earner in their right mind is going to rent a $900/month apartment in the 'burbs, but I bet they would rent a subsidized apartment for $500/month in the inner city where there is some public transportation.

To quote someone else smarter than me whose name I forget, "You can have your own opinions, but you cannot have you own facts". In my humble opinion, I think we can safely state that their argument is a factually unsupported opinion covered in bovine excrement.

Now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, I can go to town fisking the comments the liberal did make. Liberal in italics. Me in Bold.

I understand your point and agree with it as well,

No, not really. If you understood and agreed, I wouldn’t have to fisk the rest of your comments.

but I was thinking more about the people who DO have skills but are down on their luck

Luck has nothing to do with staying employed. Making wise choices and working hard are the keys to success. Getting a degree in medieval French poetry is not likely to lead to a successful, well paying career. Sitting on your ass checking Facebook every five minutes won’t do it for you either no matter how wisely you chose your career path. Being valuable to an employer by having education, skills and experience that benefit an employer’s bottom line will result in an employer looking for ways to keep you.

and can't FIND work that suits their abilities.

What exactly is this? The only job that matters to me is the one that earns a paycheck to put food on the table. If that means sweeping floors or designing airplanes, so be it. Refer back to making wise choices, if your abilities consist solely of medieval French poetry, it’s time to work on collecting some other abilities.

Yes, those jobs that pay minimum wage are GREAT for unskilled teens who don't need to necessarily support themselves and a family.

Minimum wage serves no other purpose than to be an arbitrary value for unskilled labor.

There are a lot of elderly however who are barely existing because they can't make a decent wage, and they have no one to help them make ends meet.

What choices did they make to put them in that position? I know people just like this; and, as harsh as it sounds, they did it to themselves. It is not my responsibility (unless they are family) to be the backstop for their poor retirement planning.

Even $10 an hour is hardly enough to live on and support a family with these days and there are PLENTY of jobs for SKILLED workers that only pay $9 or $10.

Choices, choices, choices. You are responsible for the choices you make. If you are making only $10 an hour, why are you starting a family? As for the jobs for skilled workers paying $9 or $10 an hour, you need to back that up with examples. I’ve been in the job market for a month now, and the only jobs I have seen earning $10 an hour or less are entry level and unskilled positions. Don’t like the pay, change industries. Entry level insurance claims adjusting positions pay significantly better than $10 an hour, and they will train you.

I was referring to those companies that DON'T pay what a worker is worth,

A worker’s worth is measured by the value he or she brings to the company. Having said that, every position in any company (from CEO down to the janitor) has an economic tipping point at which it is more cost effective to automate, outsource, downsize or otherwise replace an employee who no longer brings a positive value to the company. Fast food workers are in danger of pricing themselves out of a market right now. You can go into a fast food restaurant now, step up to a kiosk, select your own meal, and pay for your meal without interacting with a human until the food preparer hands it to you. I have experienced that myself at a couple of different chains so far, and more will follow suit. Food prep can be automated as well.

but the workers don't really have much of a choice but to work for a low wage OR starve, and many of them are barely eating as it is.

There’s that choices thing again. Everyone has a choice. The number of options you have to choose from depend entirely on your prior choices. Choose wisely.

I definitely didn't mean to offend you, or anyone else, [Daddy Hawk], with my post. ;)

Probably not…you just didn’t think before you blindly posted something ridiculous.

I, myself, have skills, but am not able, at this point, with my health issues, to work enough hours to support myself.

I understand having health issues after taking care of The Queen for the last 8 years or so. I also understand that health issues are often the result of poor choices. It’s not my place to judge your choices, but I can say it might be worthwhile to examine the choices that got you to this point.

I'm hoping that the improvements I'm trying to make will allow me to begin to work soon.

Improvement is good.

I'm working on a disability case until I can get my health back to that point, but I will NOT be able to exist on just disability, even.

It would seem you are existing just fine since you just got married.

My girls are sharing living expenses, and I hope that they do work hard to improve their skills and that they WON'T start families until they either themselves are able to support one, or until their future husbands are able to do so!

Hope doesn’t pay the bills. Teaching your kids the value of hard work and wise choices both through example and daily interaction will reinforce the values you want to instill better than anything else.

Unfortunately, with my health the way it has been for so long, and with me being the ONLY parent around, and no one else really playing a role as mentor, they haven't seen the examples that many kids in the church have been exposed to, of hardworking parents with skills that help them make a good wage, usually of a Father who supports the family with HIS skills and a mother who is able to stay home and be there full time for the kids.

This sounds like an excuse instead of taking responsibility for poor choices. So, where is their father? Whose choice was it to have kids with a deadbeat dad? You have mentors aplenty in the church to steer your kids towards if you will take the time to build those relationships.

We definitely haven't had the ideal life, but God has provided for us in spite of that.

God is merciful that way, but He also likes to see a little initiative and effort on our part.

I pray He will help my girls to learn on their own what they need to know and that they will work hard and keep their health unlike myself. ;)

For them to learn on their own???? Are you blind? How did that work out for you? God put YOU here to teach them and be their example not to let them learn everything the hard way.

Healing In Progress

As you might imagine, I had a less than restful night last night. I was emotionally and physically wiped out by the time things finally wound down here at around midnight. The poor Queen was in at least as sorry shape as I emotionally. The news hit her especially hard, and poor M&M was getting concerned too since there was a lot of heavy emotion floating around the cause of which she could not fathom. She and I wound up sacked out on a recliner together for mutual comfort until retiring to the bedroom to join The Queen in bed at some unknown hour. M&M was sound asleep when I got up, but she refused to let go. So, I simply took my little clingy monkey with me.

I woke up this morning at 7:30 AM whether I liked it or not (I didn't), and there was no going back to bed. Even if I could have gotten to back sleep, I had a headache and a powerful need to do SOMETHING. So, I fired up the computer and began by responding to some of the emails and Facebook messages that I received. I started updating my resume and got it circulated to several people for a variety of reasons (kymber, I look forward to your thoughts).

I thought I would take a moment to share some of my thoughts on the whole situation as well as some of the blessings I've been counting.

First, despite the passage of 24 hours+ since the axe fell, I still have no better insight into why this happened. I doubt I ever will. I'm still convinced that the reason I was given was not the "real" reason; but, since Texas is a right to work state, they don't have to give me a reason.  I have been in contact with some of my business associates that I've worked closely with over the last two and a half years. Universally, they were supportive and as shocked as I was. No one thus far has had a negative thing to say about my performance or skills which is a relief frankly. The Queen and I have our suspicions as to the reason why, but suspicions is all they are and will forever remain so. I have no interest in confirming those suspicions as it would serve no purpose beyond a small bit of closure. They have chosen to proceed without me, and I have to be content that they thought that was the best course of action for them.

I did get a little bit of appreciation from them today. I realized today that I had an Apple TV that had been bought by the company for use in presentations still in my possession at home. I emailed my former boss and the HR Director to ask them what they wanted me to do with. I was advised to keep it with a note of appreciation for my honesty. Every little bit helps I guess.

One very big blessing in all this is that we do not have a mortgage hanging over our heads like the sword of Damocles. The inlaws and my family have been very supportive. We have a roof over our heads as long as we need it. That is a relief beyond measure; and, I believe, a blessing from God that the house sold before this happened.

I kinda wish He had told me to wait on buying the new car though.

I have been blessed to receive offers of help from many of you as well as others. It's very reassuring to have people willing to go to bat for you when you've been kicked this hard. Having a professional contact you respect tell you that you're well liked and know what you're doing is very comforting when you've been cast aside.

I no longer feel the need to puke, and I haven't cried since this morning. So, that's progress.

The Queen, M&M and I spent some time this afternoon at the lake enjoying the water and sun together. That was very nice. I was even able to forget my situation for a short time. M&M and I had great fun splashing in the water. She can't swim yet, but she loves to be in the water and getting confident in allowing her head to go underwater.

I've been searching through job postings, and I've seen some that interest me and a couple that look like they were written for me. I will be applying for them over the next several days. Hopefully, something will come of that. In the meantime, I'm working my contacts and networking as much as I can.

Yesterday hurt pretty bad.  Before I gave up the company phone, I sent The Queen a text to let her know what was going on as we were supposed to meet for dinner near the airport for a quick meal before I had to fly out on business. As I was cleaning out my desk under the watchful eye of the HR director, she kept calling me on my office phone trying to get a hold of me. I told HR that I was answering a call from my wife and had to tell The Queen a couple of times that I couldn't talk before finally having to hang up. It was all I could do to keep from completely falling apart on the phone, as I boxed up my accumulated stuff and on my way out the door. Even at that, I know I left several items behind for them to ship to me. It was a long two hour drive home. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done to pull into the driveway and face my wife who loves me and relies on me to provide for her and our daughter. I wanted to be anywhere else. Seeing the heartbreak on her face when I finally made it home, not directed at me but at the situation, and hearing the pain in her voice cut deep. I will be forever grateful to her for the love and support she gave me through her own hurt.

I wish I could report that I'm over it, that I'm all smiles and laughter. That would be complete and utter fertilizer. The healing has begun, but it is far from over.

Thanks again to all of you who read here and especially those who took the time to comment or email. Your friendship is very much appreciated.

This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

So, here lately, the North Texas area has been getting a lot of attention, unwanted in my opinion, from aggressive proponents of open carry upsetting the apple cart by carrying rifles and shotguns in public.

I'm sure most of you have seen the Facebook photo of the two dweebs...mall ninjas...wannabees...fools attention whores standing in Chipotle with their EBRs (evil black rifles) on display. I'm not going to post that photo as I don't need those two preserved here in my digital home for posterity. Google "Dallas Chipotle Open Carry" if you really want to see it. Suffice it to say, they look silly.  The one wearing his mirrored shades and holding the rifle at low ready, other than looking like the rifle is bigger than he is, should probably have been arrested for disturbing the peace or brandishing of some other related offense. Maybe it's not too late. There is photographic evidence of the offense after all.

Add to that little drama, the events going on in Arlington where the city council recently passed a new ordinance preventing people from stepping into city streets to hand out literature. This ordinance was the result of a Tarrant County open carry group passing out copies of the Constitution at intersections while carrying rifles and shotguns to the apparent dismay of some if you believe the news reporting of the events. The open carry group is crying violation of their first amendment rights, and they promise civil disobedience when the ordinance takes effect at the end of the month.

And now there is this:

Little orange signs like this are popping up all over Granbury (southwest of Ft. Worth). When I asked the manager at Fuzzy's Tacos what gives, he advised that they were informed that an open carry group was coming to town Memorial Day weekend and wanted no part of that nonsense. So, essentially, what they have done since the sign does not comply with Texas section 30.06 signage requirements is create a reason for a simple trespassing charge. If someone entering the business with a gun is asked to leave and refuses, they can then be arrested for trespassing.

Frankly, I don't blame Fuzzy's for posting the sign. I don't blame Chipotle for their position either. Do I wish they had handled it differently? Yes. Then again, I wish the attention whores had stayed home to beg mommy for donut money or play video games too.

In the meantime, I will comply with the laws of the state of Texas while enjoying my burritos and tacos.

Global Warming My Hairy...

Someone go tell Al Gore the global warming he sold everyone is defective.

It's March 3RD. The normal temps in the Dallas are are supposed to be in the 60s for a high and 40s for a low. Outside my office window right now, it's 16 degrees. The wind chill makes it feel like 1 degree. I live in Dallas, not Chicago, for a reason.

To make matters worse, it was 80 degrees and beautiful Saturday.

Whoever is screwing with the thermostat better knock it off. If we find you, there will be Hell to pay.

Crazy Idea

One the way home from work this evening, I had one of those crazy ideas for a prank that might have been done already but which I've never seen myself. I think it would be fun to set up a desk and chairs in a high rise elevator. When the doors open for people to get on, you ask them odd things like "are you here for the porn auditions?" or "can I talk to you about Jesus?". Another tack would be to tell them they are late for their proctology exam. 

Perhaps I've been a bit too stressed lately. What do you think?