Advice for M&M

1. "Murphy hates you. Personally." - LawDog 

See Murphy's Law. Most people don't know this, but there really was a Murphy. According to the generally accepted story, he was an engineer working on the program to develop the first jet aircraft ejection seats. While he never uttered the infamous and eponymous law in it's currently accepted form, he did say something that evoked the spirit of the law which was later paraphrased and attributed to him. 

2. Gravity sucks. Corollary - it's not just a good idea, it's a law.

3. Treat electricity with respect. See #1. Remind me one of these days to tell you the story of why I never trusted Granddaddy Aubrey. If anyone ever asks you to hold a spark plug wire, the answer is an emphatic "NO!!!" unless they agree that you will be holding it against their most sensitive anatomy.

4. Behind every warning label is an idiot with a lawyer. As the saying goes, I'm not advocating killing all the stupid people. I'm just saying let's remove all the warnings and let nature take its course. 

5. "Be nice until it's time to not be nice" Patrick Swayze as John Dalton in Roadhouse. The United States Marine Corps General John Mattis version is also instructive: "Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everybody you meet."

6. There is no moral superiority in being a dead victim. God makes allowances for self defense, and turning the other cheek has nothing to do with meekly waiting for a bullet or a knife. If attacked, fight like you are the third monkey in line for the ark...and brother it's starting to rain. 

7. "It is easy to critique in leisure what a person had to do in haste." YouTuber/Firearms Trainer Paul Harrell

The longer version of this quote in the same video discussing the 1986 Miami FBI Shootout is: "It's very easy with the leisure of years to think about it what others did when they had seconds to decide on a course of action." Corollary: Hindsight is 20/20. Learn from the mistakes of other, and be thankful you didn't have to make that mistake yourself. However, don't fall into the trap of thinking you could/would have done better under the same circumstances. 

8. Napoleon Bonaparte's maxim, "Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake". 

Potty Humor

No, not the kind you think. Get your mind out of the toilet.

About a week or two ago, this sign...

...appeared in the toilet stalls in the men's room at my office. I have no idea why this sign appeared as it would never occur to me to put a paper towel in the toilet; but, be that as it may, said sign was apparently posted in all seriousness.

Well, someone (I have it on good authority who said person is), decided that the above sign could not go unchallenged. Thus, this sign...

...appeared a couple of days or three ago.

Well, apparently, the response was so popular that its creator was emboldened to add an addenda to the list which presaged the appearance of this sign...

Somebody needs a hobby, but I can't wait for the next installment.

On This Episode of Cops...

..., do stupid things and win stupid prizes.

So, yesterday, I was on my way home from work minding my own business cruising along I-20 westbound between I-45 and I-35 in south Dallas. I was in the second lane from the right with the cruise control set at the speed limit plus or minus a skosh. Traffic was surprisingly light for the middle of rush hour with the nearest vehicle being a pickup in the far right lane about five car lengths back. Then, I heard the telltale sound of a crotch rocket in high revs. I was expecting him to come up on my left as those lanes were clear; however, he blows by at about 80 miles an hour on the right shoulder.

I thought to myself, "Self, that's odd."

I couldn't tell what make or model bike it was. It was all white with at least a 750cc engine (at a minimum based on the size and sound). The brain child in the saddle was wearing white shorts, dark athletic shoes, a t-shirt, backpack and matte black full face shield helmet with the goofy Mohawk ridge along the top.

The reason these details caught my attention was that the rider had gotten off the throttle as he passed me and was looking back over his shoulder in my direction making me think he was giving me the stink eye for some reason. I was contemplating what I might have done to offend him when things began to become clearer.

As we passed a highway on ramp, a Dallas County Sheriff's Deputy cruiser came charging onto the highway with lights flashing making a beeline for Mr. Motorcycle.

My first reaction was, "Awesome!! Nail his butt." Because, really, how many times has some idiot on a crotch rocket blown passed you at warp nine when there was no popo anywhere to be seen?

Then, the second DCSO cruiser flew passed on my left lights a blazin'. That was the moment that you just KNEW it was on like Donkey Kong. Just after I saw the second cruiser, I looked back to the scene ahead just in time to see Mr. Organ Donor depart from the I-35E southbound exit ramp for the supposedly greener pastures of the grassy median between shoulder and frontage road.

Big mistake. HUGE!.

The first cruiser was hot on Mr. Mensa's tail like white on rice. That's when the dust really started flying. I didn't have a clear view, but I am pretty sure that Mr. Offroad on Slick Tires gave the crotch rocket a little too much go juice resulting, predictably, in the travels of bike and rider becoming separated in what hopefully an epic Wile E. Coyote moment. I say this because there was some tumbling visible through the cloud of dirt and grass flying in the air, and when I finally passed by a few seconds later the bike was in several more pieces than one would expect for a gentle laying down amongst the hillside meadow.

Anyfelon, by this time Mr. Carl Lewis Wannabe was trying to beat the Olympic sprint record in all events at the same time while Deputy #1 had already bailed out of his cruiser and was closing ground fast like there was donuts and bacon in the rabbit's backpack.

Unfortunately, I did not get to see the end of the foot race as I was still driving along my merry way and my view was soon blocked by the traffic on the exit ramp, the ramp itself and the whole scene disappearing in the rear view. My money is on the deputy.

Total elapsed time from "what was that?" to out of sight, out of mind was less than a minute...maybe 30 seconds.

That Smarts

Well, I had hoped that my 200TH post would be a little more profound than this is likely to be; but, I figure if I don't start cranking out the free ice cream again soon, y'all just might go get your fix elsewhere. So, where has Waldo been lately? When we last checked in on our hero, he was overcome by the emotion of having been accepted to law school. Much, as they say, has transpired since last we spoke.

I spent the remainder of the week following receipt of my acceptance to law school in a giddy daze. I did go see my youngest niece's orchestra concert that evening which was enjoyable even though it resulted in one of those "When I was your age"/"Your tax dollars at work" moments. The concert was held in the cafeteria/auditorium of my niece's middle school. As I perused my surroundings while waiting for my niece's orchestra to get to the stage (her's was the last of four different groups), I noticed that the cafeteria was not the style of school cafeteria to which I was accustomed when I was in school. In fact, it looked more like the food court at the mall. You had separate counters for burgers, pizza, fried chicken, and plate lunches in addition to the candy/snacks/bakery counter. When did this start happening??? When I was in middle school, what they were serving in the SINGLE lunch line was IT. If you didn't like it, you were out of luck. Kids have it so easy today. No adversity to face. They don't have to learn how to suck it up and take it...whatever it is.

Moving on, two days later, my great uncle (mom's dad's younger brother) passed away at the age of 82. His health had been in decline for the last 10 years or so following a motorcycle accident. His memorial service took place over Memorial Day weekend in the central Texas town where he had lived most of his life. I went with mom and my sister...the devil to go to the service which was held at the church where my great uncle had attended since he was a boy with my great grandparents. Funerals and memorial services are generally not fun events, and this was no exception. I do have to say this was probably the least coherent funeral service to which I've been. I'm not sure what a normal Church of Christ funeral service is supposed to be like, but I'm pretty sure this wasn't even close.

The memorial service also happened to coincide with my grandfather's (mom's dad) 90TH birthday which is somehow appropriate. According to mom, he's extremely proud of the fact that I've been accepted to law school even though he made no mention of such feelings to my face while we were there. I think he's just waiting until the ink is dry on my bar card so that he can ask me to sue someone for him. Personally, his pride and approval mean less to me than a warm bucket of spit; however, I can't completely turn my back on him. I have learned things from him, both good and bad, that make me who I am today, and I must grudgingly admit that he is a necessary component of my existence whether I like it or not. One of these days, I will have to explain my feelings about him in more detail to give you, my faithful readers, some idea of why I want to be standing behind him when he stands before God. If I could sell tickets to that event, I would.

That brings us to the next reason why I've been AWOL the last week or two. A week ago Friday, I was snuggling up next to The Queen in bed pulling the covers up when the covers stopped and my left hand didn't. My hand flew straight back into my face and impacted my left eyeball. I clearly remember my eyeball compressing, and I saw a ring of pretty blue and yellow stars in a pitch black room. I yelled but, in a shining moment in the ongoing development of my Christian character, didn't cuss. The Queen asked what happened; and, after being told, she started laughing at me. I eventually had to laugh to and said "It's all fun and games until someone punches their own eye out."

Now, a normal person would expect to wake up the next day to a black eye in the eye that was hit. Nope. Not me. I woke up the next day, and both eyes were perfectly normal. The day after that...not so much. That day, I woke up to discover that my RIGHT eye was completely red, painful to the touch, photo sensitive and would hurt when looking in certain directions. And, when I say hurt, I mean "feels like being stuck in the eye with an ice pick" hurt. Before you ask, yes, I am quite certain that it was my LEFT eye that was hit.

After things didn't get better after a couple of days, I made an appointment with the eye doctor. He pronounced the problem to be "iritis" which is inflammation of the iris. Basically, I sprained the muscles that control my iris. I was relieved that I had not detached the retina of something catastrophic. The doctor said that it's possible that the shock wave from the hit to the left eye went through the tissue and inflamed the right eye. Apparently, this is not unheard of in sports injuries.

The almost constant headache that went with this was the easiest part to deal with. Never knowing when the phantom ice pick would strike...that really kinda sucked. I did figure out that the change between near vision and far vision was especially painful and have worked to avoid that as much as possible. You really have no idea how much you move your eyes, how much focusing you do until you do something stupid like this. It completely wears you out mentally and physically. I've spent the last week or so being almost constantly exhausted because of my eye.

So, there you have it. More or less. Free ice cream to continue as my eye improves.

Redneck Kitchen Skills

I have another car review post in the works for the Hyundai Elantra that I rented earlier in the week for a roadtrip to Beaumont, Texas. Hopefully I'll have some time to finish that up tonight or tomorrow. 

In the meantime, I have to take a quick moment to share with you all what transpired earlier today. As most of you know, I have the privilege (sometimes curse) of working from home. The Queen, due to her health circumstances, is also a stay at home person. My mother in law, father in law and grandmother in law all live here as well. We also have frequent visits from the niece and nephews on The Queen's side. My sister...the devil doesn't seem to trust me with her kids. Perhaps that will change when they are old enough to drive. 

Like most of the country, the suburban realm where Castle Erickson is situated fell under the influence of Old Man Winter late Monday night/early Tuesday morn. Tuesday morning found the area waking up to a solid sheet of ice thanks to the rain we received Monday night being flash frozen by the artic front that came in pushed by wind gusts up to 45 miles per hour dropping the temps to subfreezing levels faster than a politician drops a campaign promise after the election. So, it was a bit of a surprise when last night, E., the oldest nephew, skated his way over to the Castle from the suburb to the west where he lives and goes to college...in his spiffy little rear wheel drive manual transmission Chevy Camaro no less. I give the boy bonus points for getting here in one piece with not much more traction than a sugared up three year old on a slip and slide. I might have to listen a little closer to find out if the clanking noise coming from his pockets is loose change or something else.

Anyway, putting E. and The Queen together is a recipe for interesting things to happen. After taking to the frozen streets for a little sledding in the dog's swimming pool (which had only been relieved of a 4 inch thick block of ice moments before), E. and The Queen decided to take a whack at making butter...from scratch...in the clothes dryer. 

Uh-huh. That's what I thought too. 

I had stepped out of the command center/man cave here at the office to go in search of a snack or water or something to find my Queen pouring over a recipe book and looking slightly guilty. She inquired if I knew what she and E. were up to. I responded that it looked like she was in the midst of making the Butternut Squash soup she had been talking about earlier in the day. She affirmed that, yes, in fact, she was in the process of doing that but wanted to know if I knew what else they were up to. I allowed as how, no, I did not have a clue what was afoot. After some poking and prodding in (not so) appropriate places, the butter plan was revealed. 

The Queen and E. came up with the idea to churn the butter by putting liquored cream in a jar that was tightly tied in a pillow before being tossed in the dryer for a cool tumble. I haven't sampled the results yet, but the jar is full of roundish looking butter balls.

Blink, blink....Who'd 'a' thunk it? 

It's pure genius I think. I'm a little annoyed that I don't think I would have ever come up with the idea myself, but it's pure genius nonetheless. I dare one of those froo froo cooking shows to try that idea.