Day 1 of my midlife crisis.
Today started out pretty much like any of the other previous 14,610 days. I don't feel any different. I don't feel any older. In corresponding with other people this morning, it appears that this is normal. So, I know I am not in denial.
No new guns have appeared on my doorstep yet looking for a good home. I must not be as well loved as I thought, or all my readers are just as broke as I am. If just 10 readers were to find it in their hearts to send me $40 each, I could get one off the list. Come on, that's dinner and a movie. A cheap date. If you can scrounge up more readers, that lowers the contribution level considerably. I'd even send you a copy of a target shot with the new weapon. I'll even do a Mel Gibson-esque smiley face if you want.
Oh well. There's still hope that someone will show up at the gun show on Sunday, hand me one of the guns on my list and say: "It's all yours. Go forth and have fun slaying paper, varmints, zombies and liberals (which really are the same thing when you think about it)."
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Happy Birthday To Me
Do you ever have one of those days where you should have stayed in bed? There are times when I begin to believe I was having one of those days on March 10, 1970. Yeah. It’s my birthday today. In fact, today is the 40TH anniversary of my official introduction to this great big ball of dirt we call home and its interesting cast of characters.
I arrived at 1:55 in the morning after staying a month past my lease expiration and weighed in at a respectable nine pounds and ten ounces. At least, that’s if you believe mom’s story. She was under the influence of mind numbing pain and narcotics at the time. So, I’m not sure I’d put too much stock in her recollection as it’s undoubtedly been compromised. Dad’s story is a little more subdued than that; but, considering the fact that he passes out at the mere mention of the word BLOOD, he’s not exactly the star witness for the prosecution either.
40 years ago today my mother was shouting “IT’S ABOUT $^&^**(()$#@@@!@ TIME!!!!!” and “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME??” at dad while grabbing his bottom lip (go listen to some old Bill Cosby or Carol Burnett for that reference) in between demands for painkillers. That’s MY story, and I’m stickin’ to it.
Do you know what I have to say about turning 40? BIG FAT HAIRY DEAL! That’s what. I don’t feel any different despite the fact that, going back for the last several years now, anytime I go near a doctor they try to tell me now’s the time for me to start getting those regular prostate exams. I don’t think so. Not likely to happen anytime soon. Unlike my father in law, I can still sleep through the night without getting up to take a trip to the toilet. In the mean time, my butt is an exit only zone thank you very much.
Besides, I had a prostate exam when I was sixteen as part of the flight physical to get my student pilot certificate. No one had warned me which I think was intentional. Imagine my surprise when the doctor snapped on that latex glove with the axel grease all over it. So, now at least, I have it on good authority that my prostate is in there somewhere and isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
In the meantime, I still have to get up, go to work and earn a living. In short, it’s the same stuff, just a different day. I have survived the past 14,610 days (plus or minus a few leap days) more or less intact which I consider an accomplishment.
So, here’s to hoping I will survive the next 40 years more or less intact. Just don’t expect me to be sober doing it.
I arrived at 1:55 in the morning after staying a month past my lease expiration and weighed in at a respectable nine pounds and ten ounces. At least, that’s if you believe mom’s story. She was under the influence of mind numbing pain and narcotics at the time. So, I’m not sure I’d put too much stock in her recollection as it’s undoubtedly been compromised. Dad’s story is a little more subdued than that; but, considering the fact that he passes out at the mere mention of the word BLOOD, he’s not exactly the star witness for the prosecution either.
40 years ago today my mother was shouting “IT’S ABOUT $^&^**(()$#@@@!@ TIME!!!!!” and “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME??” at dad while grabbing his bottom lip (go listen to some old Bill Cosby or Carol Burnett for that reference) in between demands for painkillers. That’s MY story, and I’m stickin’ to it.
Do you know what I have to say about turning 40? BIG FAT HAIRY DEAL! That’s what. I don’t feel any different despite the fact that, going back for the last several years now, anytime I go near a doctor they try to tell me now’s the time for me to start getting those regular prostate exams. I don’t think so. Not likely to happen anytime soon. Unlike my father in law, I can still sleep through the night without getting up to take a trip to the toilet. In the mean time, my butt is an exit only zone thank you very much.
Besides, I had a prostate exam when I was sixteen as part of the flight physical to get my student pilot certificate. No one had warned me which I think was intentional. Imagine my surprise when the doctor snapped on that latex glove with the axel grease all over it. So, now at least, I have it on good authority that my prostate is in there somewhere and isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
In the meantime, I still have to get up, go to work and earn a living. In short, it’s the same stuff, just a different day. I have survived the past 14,610 days (plus or minus a few leap days) more or less intact which I consider an accomplishment.
So, here’s to hoping I will survive the next 40 years more or less intact. Just don’t expect me to be sober doing it.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Constipation of the Word Processor
Once again, I find myself in the position of apologizing for my absence from the blogosphere. I’ve been a bad blogger buddy here of late again. People have, on more than one occasion, accused me of having diarrhea of the word processor. Lately, it seems to have turned to constipation. That, or I just don’t give a crap anymore.
Sorry, I couldn’t resist the easy joke.
Semi-seriously, as usual, I’ve been busier than the proverbial one armed, one legged paper hanger in a butt kickin’ contest. On top of the usual daily activities of life and work which interfere with my ability to commune with my readership, I turn 40 on Wednesday which means I’m in the middle of planning my midlife crisis.
I mean, you do have to plan those things. Don’t you? Otherwise you wind up with a crappy midlife crisis and lose your job after sleeping with the wrong co-worker in the back seat of that snazzy convertible you can’t afford.
Since I’m hopelessly in love with my wife and really don’t want to find out what God or my wife would do to me if I violated the seventh commandment, a mistress is out of the question. Besides, it’s not like I have a lot of opportunity. Working from home seriously impacts my interaction with just about everyone on the planet.
I do like cars, but I’ve lost my love affair with going deeply into debt for a $30,000 plus toy which is the price of poker for even the most basic new sports car. Drop a gently used and/or easily restorable/customizable 1970 Datsun 240Z in my lap for a reasonable price, and you might get my attention though.
Motorcycles are kinda the same thing as the car thing but at a lower price point.
Airplanes…oooo. Please don’t get me started. Even the rattiest, airworthy used airplane is going to set you back more than a new car not including the hangar fees, the price of avgas (and you thought 87 octane dino wine for your car was steep at $3.50 or more a gallon…you’re so funny) and the price of annual inspections and overhaul reserves. You might as well pick up bank robbery as a hobby ‘cause that’s about the only way you can afford to feed an airplane.
So, that leaves me with guns.
The problem with guns is that I can’t just stop at one. It kinda reminds of the Rutger Hauer movie “Split Second”. There’s a scene where Rootbeer’s partner has just encountered the homicidal creature for the first time and figures out why Rootbeer’s character has gone off the deep end. They find themselves in the gun locker at the police station ranting about needing more guns and each gun that gets picked up is “NOT BIG ENOUGH.”
That’s about the way I’d be with guns if I didn’t have other priorities. You can’t have too many or too big.
And it doesn’t help that I came across Michael Zimmerman’s list of the 10 Most Manly Guns and discovered (to my horror) that I’ve only owned 3 of the 10 (I got rid of the Glock for reasons that remain dim in my memory, but I was never very happy with it anyway). If you add Zimmerman’s 10 More Manly Guns list, I’ve owned 4 of the 20.
Then there’s this guy I know up in Utah. When the war starts, I’ll be knocking, very politely I might add, on his door. This guy has more guns than most gun stores. His basement is full of guns and ammo and reloading equipment. I mean FULL. He has two file cabinets. One drawer is .357 magnum revolvers. The next drawer is 1911 .45 semi autos. The next drawer is…you get the idea. His root cellar which is about 5 or 6 feet wide and 20 or so feet long has rifles lining the walls floor to ceiling. He estimated, conservatively, that he had over 200 guns worth well over $150,000. I’m pretty sure he had all 20 of the guns on Zimmerman’s lists. 10 times over.
And people say I’m obsessed?
All this means, of course, is that I have to rectify this as soon as possible by obtaining more guns.
Unfortunately, thanks to President Obama and a (up until recently) super majority Democrat controlled Congress, every redneck on the planet is clinging to their guns and Bibles very tightly and buying more of each at every opportunity. For those of you who slept through the chapter on the Law of Supply and Demand in your economics class, this means that guns you could have purchased for $500 a year or two ago are now going to set you back $750 or more depending on how popular it is. Some guns, like those dreaded assault rifles which are feared by so many who haven’t got a clue, can’t be touched for less than $1000. A really nice over/under shotgun is going to cost you a minimum of $2000.
So, if you’re like me and like guns…a lot, you’ll get close to the new car price point pretty quick.
Since I know my readership loves me dearly and really want to help a brother out in his quest to have the perfect midlife crisis, I thought I would submit my list of guns that I’d really like to have in case you were stumped on what to get me for my birthday or just wanted to donate some cash to the cause. Here, in no particular order of desire, are the weapons I want to add to my arsenal:
1. Ruger Mark III Hunter .22 LR (model # 10118 in the Ruger catalog). This is a pretty pistol. It’s man jewelry for those who appreciate shooting with precision. The stainless steel frame dressed with pretty rosewood grips joins up with a 6.88” fluted barrel that screams “SHOOT ME NOW, SHOOT ME OFTEN!!!!”. I was truly disappointed that the Ruger didn’t make Zimmerman’s list. I mean, COME ON, Sly Stallone and Antonio Banderas both used the Ruger, suitably modified with a silencer, as their weapons of choice in the movie “Assassins”. If it’s good enough for Stallone, it’s good enough for me.
2. Ruger 10/22 Target model .22LR rifle (model #1121). This is like the Japanese tuner car of small caliber target rifles. You can do anything with this puppy. You could easily spend $1000 customizing this gun which is a pretty good piece straight out of the box. My mom bought the carbine version of this rifle as her first gun last year, and it has me seriously wanting to trade my Marlin 60 on one of these.
3. A 1911 platform .45 ACP Government Model semi auto pistol (I’d settle for the Commander size if I had to). I haven’t quite narrowed down which particular brand and model I want yet. I might just have to get several to be safe. I have shot the Kimber and loved it. I have shot a Colt Government Model which is what started my desire for one of these pistols (years and years ago, but the memory is still fresh and crisp in my mind). I have been eyeing the Taurus PT1911 here lately and wouldn’t mind trying one since I had good luck with Taurus products previously. Of course, if there were a generous soul out there who wanted to bequeath to me a Les Baer or Wilson Combat custom 1911, I might name my first born child after that person.
4. Browning Citori over/under 12 gauge Shotgun. I don’t care who you are, this is a nice gun.
5. AR-15 or M4. I’m not picky about the maker. I have shot the Rock River Arms version and had no complaints. I know I have absolutely no need for one of these, but I don’t care. I just want one.
6. A really nice .30-06 or .300 Win Mag rifle. This is another area where I have not yet decided which one to go with. I have shot the Remington Model 700 Sendero in .308 and liked it real nice. I have heard others speak kindly of the Weatherby brand. I hear some good stuff about Savage, too. I just want a nice, accurate rifle with which to hunt deer, elk, zombies and the occasional rioter. I’m not asking for much am I?
7. Springfield M1A Super Match. I want it ‘cause it’s a way tricked out and updated M1 Garand.
8. Navy Arms 1875 Scofield Founder’s model .45LC. It was good enough for Jesse James. Need I say more?
9. Smith & Wesson Model 686 .357 magnum with a 6” barrel. I saw these when they were first released back in the 80s and fell in love at first site. At least, I fell in love with the stainless steel version with the polished wood, contoured grips.
I’ll be going to the gun show this weekend before heading down to mom’s to shoot stuff. Feel free to tag along and bestow your generosity on me. I won’t protest one bit. I promise.
*3/9/10 Update - I spent a little time on number 6 today. I think I've narrowed it down to the Browning A-Bolt M-1000 Eclipse, but I'm not sure if I want the BOSS option or not. I need to do a little more reading on that part.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
More Blog Bling
So, yesterday evening, I get an email in my inbox showing I have a comment to moderate on the blog. It's from my most prolific commenter, GunDiva, advising me that she has an award waiting for me.
The award looks something like this.
In fact, you could say it looks exactly like that.
As I've come to discover, blog awards such as this one are not so much about any particular accomplishment but more about introducing other people to the blogs a particular person finds interesting. The fact that GunDiva has given me 3 of these awards must mean I've made an impression. Not sure exactly how or why, but she is well armed and not afraid to use her weapons. So, who am I to argue with her?
Inevitably, these awards come with strings attached in the form of rules for propagating the species. They are fairly simple and, in this case, are as follows:
- Link to the person who awarded me the blog: GunDiva
- Offer up 7 things about yourself
- Pass it on to 15 bloggers you've recently found and followed
7 Things About Me (To Love or Hate)
- I am sickeningly, maddeningly, obsessively, overwhelmingly, passionately, and desperately in love with my wife. GunDiva has remarked on my oft stated love for The Queen. I'm glad someone noticed. I try to be a good example of what a husband should be.
- I am a Christian. Not long after I chose to follow a more religious life than I had previously, my mother commented that I had started to sound like a preacher. It's time that I embraced the fact that, just as my wife is The Queen, I am, in fact, The Preacher here at Preachers and Horse Thieves. I endeavor to live my life according to the example set for me in the Bible by the name sake of my chosen religion, Jesus Christ (after all, Christian means follower of Christ). Sometimes (more frequently than I care to admit), I stumble and fall short of that example as we all do. I try very hard to pick myself up again and do better next time so that I am not just saying, but doing as well.
- I am easy to get to know but hard to get to know well. My mother tells stories of how, as a child, I would go up to a group of kids and tell a few that I would play with them and tell the rest I would play with them tomorrow. Somewhere along the way, that all changed. I still make acquaintances fairly easily; however, I have very few close friends. The person closest to me is my wife, and even she occasionally complains that I do not open up enough with her.
- I envy craftsmen and artisans. I have a desperate desire to create and build which is going unfulfilled in my life right now. I have tried my hand at drawing, painting, woodworking and pottery as well as other crafts and arts with moderate degrees of success; but, someone who is truly gifted and can make something heartbreakingly beautiful where only a stick of wood or lump of clay existed previously is, perhaps, as close as one can ever get to the marvel and wonder God must have felt as He created the universe and the little ball of dirt we call home.
- In 14 days, I will be 40 years old. Without The Queen in perfect health, it does not seem to be anything worth celebrating.
- I have a morbid fascination with snipers.
- I am a conservative (NOT a republican) who feels that the horse thieves elected to public office have abandoned we the people in order to form a more perfect bank balance or power base. I am disgusted by what passes for leadership in this country, and I pray that God will remind them that He brought 'em into this world and He can take 'em right back out.
15 Award Winning Bloggers (...more or less)
In truth, I'm not sure I know 15 bloggers much less ones I've started reading recently. I guess that makes me a bad blogger buddy or something.
- Bob Hoover's Blog Bob is an interesting guy. He's a bit sporadic on his postings because he's dealing with cancer. Based on his writings and lack of response to comments, he's probably not big into this type of recognition; but, since this is about introducing others to blogs they might not find otherwise, he gets a nod.
- Crazy Texas Mommy I've nominated her before for one of the other awards GunDiva sent my way. A good read more often than not. Especially if you're from Texas.
- Flight Level 390 Captain Dave is a commercial airline pilot for an unspecified air carrier. Like Bob Hoover he does not appear to be in this blogging thing for the awards, but his stuff is very interesting to the pilot in me and would be of interest to any travelers out there looking for insight into the world of commercial air travel.
- Fresh Confessions of a Screwed Up Texan This girl shares my love of Dr Pepper and has promised to let me be her editor when she makes it to the big times as an author.
- Not So Humble Pie If you like food and especially anything baked, this is your place. Her science inspired cookies and other baked items are just incredible.
- Mary Witzl at Resident Alien I've mentioned Mary before as well. She's worth a read.
- Nathanael Rey at This Is How It Feels T!nk most definitely qualifies as the most incongruous selection in the list of blogs I follow. We have next to nothing in common, but his writing is strong and he's convicted about his opinions. Got to give him props for that.
- Shatner's Hall Shatner is definitely a recent addition to the list of folks I follow.
...and, I'm out. There are other blogs that I follow, and it's not that I don't think they are worthy of mention here. It's just that they are either very sporadic in their postings, already have big followings and don't need my help, or are not personal blogs.
That, and the fact that I must go spend time with The Queen
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Signs You Are Going Completely Mental
They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. I don't know exactly who they are, but they've never spent much time in the Erickson household. While it is true that trying to get a different result by doing something the same way can be described as being a tad mental, you must find ways to do things completely differently and expect the same result to be truly touched in the head.
It's only 8:30 AM; and, already, I've managed to make a running start at going
completely insane.
My normal day starts when I wake up between 6:00 and 7:00 AM depending on how tired I was the night before and how late I got to sleep. I usually have great intentions of getting to bed by 10:00 on work nights; but, in this house, I'm usually lucky to be dead to the world by 11:00 or 11:30. In the mornings, I have about a half hour to an hour and a half before The Queen awakes. Since The Queen is more or less bedridden, that means someone (that would be me) has to fix her breakfast which consists of a vegetable and broth soup with meat thrown in for protein. This has been the way of life in the Erickson household for several years now. You would think that the routine would be hard wired into my brain by now.
Oh, you would be so wrong.
This morning started out normally and innocently enough. After yet another post 11:00 PM bedtime, I arose at my somewhat normal 7:00 AM. The cats get fed before anything else happens unless you want to listen to them complain loudly and/or claw at your face (if you're lying down) or try and trip you (if you're standing up).
After taking care of normal morning constitutionals, I stumble into my office to fire up both computers and see if the world is still there. At 7:30, The Queen calls to let me know she is awake and in need of food. This should have been my first warning that things were amiss. She rarely wakes before 8:00 and can sometimes sleep until 9:00. Normal SOP is for me to start fixing her soup at 8:00 so it will be ready for her by 8:30.
So, I stumble into the kitchen to fix her the mystery soup of the morning (we try to vary the vegetables involved so she doesn't get bored - this morning was green peas, spinach, onion and radish). Things went well until I poured the soup into the blender to puree it. Despite the fact that I was holding the lid of the blender down and it was only 1/3 full, I was rewarded with hot soup belched in every direction when I hit the button. Strike one for today's amusements.
As an aside relevant to this story, I normally go ahead and fix myself some breakfast while making The Queen's soup. Usually, it's either fruit or a bowl of yogurt with granola and chocolate chips. This morning I did both.
Unfortunately, I left my yogurt bowl right next to The Queen's empty soup bowl. I have no idea what my eyes were seeing at that particular moment as my brain has failed to record the images for posterity; however, once I had successfully finished pureeing the soup, I somehow managed to pour the hot soup into my cold yogurt. Yogurt and granola mixed with green veggie soup is in no way, shape or form appetizing. Strike two for the morning.
Next up, The Queen needed her water bottle refilled. This is normal on any given morning. The water is in the kitchen where most sane people would expect it to be. So why, for the love of monkeys flinging poo, was I merrily trotting off to my office to refill her water bottle? What the Hell????
As a side benefit, The Queen laughed so hard she almost blew soup out her nose when I told her that one. It would have been funny to get a picture of her blowing technicolor snot out her nose. But, I digress.
Anyway, as I now attempt to start my work day without further disaster, all I hear in my head is the song "I'm Going Slightly Mad" by Queen. And, because I am the sharing type, I will leave you with the lyrics so you too can hear the softly crooned words of Freddie Mercury gently bouncing around the inside of your head for the rest of the day.
It's only 8:30 AM; and, already, I've managed to make a running start at going
completely insane.
My normal day starts when I wake up between 6:00 and 7:00 AM depending on how tired I was the night before and how late I got to sleep. I usually have great intentions of getting to bed by 10:00 on work nights; but, in this house, I'm usually lucky to be dead to the world by 11:00 or 11:30. In the mornings, I have about a half hour to an hour and a half before The Queen awakes. Since The Queen is more or less bedridden, that means someone (that would be me) has to fix her breakfast which consists of a vegetable and broth soup with meat thrown in for protein. This has been the way of life in the Erickson household for several years now. You would think that the routine would be hard wired into my brain by now.
Oh, you would be so wrong.
This morning started out normally and innocently enough. After yet another post 11:00 PM bedtime, I arose at my somewhat normal 7:00 AM. The cats get fed before anything else happens unless you want to listen to them complain loudly and/or claw at your face (if you're lying down) or try and trip you (if you're standing up).
After taking care of normal morning constitutionals, I stumble into my office to fire up both computers and see if the world is still there. At 7:30, The Queen calls to let me know she is awake and in need of food. This should have been my first warning that things were amiss. She rarely wakes before 8:00 and can sometimes sleep until 9:00. Normal SOP is for me to start fixing her soup at 8:00 so it will be ready for her by 8:30.
So, I stumble into the kitchen to fix her the mystery soup of the morning (we try to vary the vegetables involved so she doesn't get bored - this morning was green peas, spinach, onion and radish). Things went well until I poured the soup into the blender to puree it. Despite the fact that I was holding the lid of the blender down and it was only 1/3 full, I was rewarded with hot soup belched in every direction when I hit the button. Strike one for today's amusements.
As an aside relevant to this story, I normally go ahead and fix myself some breakfast while making The Queen's soup. Usually, it's either fruit or a bowl of yogurt with granola and chocolate chips. This morning I did both.
Unfortunately, I left my yogurt bowl right next to The Queen's empty soup bowl. I have no idea what my eyes were seeing at that particular moment as my brain has failed to record the images for posterity; however, once I had successfully finished pureeing the soup, I somehow managed to pour the hot soup into my cold yogurt. Yogurt and granola mixed with green veggie soup is in no way, shape or form appetizing. Strike two for the morning.
Next up, The Queen needed her water bottle refilled. This is normal on any given morning. The water is in the kitchen where most sane people would expect it to be. So why, for the love of monkeys flinging poo, was I merrily trotting off to my office to refill her water bottle? What the Hell????
As a side benefit, The Queen laughed so hard she almost blew soup out her nose when I told her that one. It would have been funny to get a picture of her blowing technicolor snot out her nose. But, I digress.
Anyway, as I now attempt to start my work day without further disaster, all I hear in my head is the song "I'm Going Slightly Mad" by Queen. And, because I am the sharing type, I will leave you with the lyrics so you too can hear the softly crooned words of Freddie Mercury gently bouncing around the inside of your head for the rest of the day.
When the outside temperature rises
And the meaning is oh so clear
One thousand and one yellow daffodils
Begin to dance in front of you - oh dear
Are they trying to tell you something?
You're missing that one final screw
You're simply not in the pink my dear
To be honest you haven't got a clue
I'm going slightly mad
I'm going slightly mad
It finally happened - happened
It finally happened - ooh oh
It finally happened - I'm slightly mad
Oh dear!
I'm one card short of a full deck
I'm not quite the shilling
One wave short of a shipwreck
I'm not at my usual top billing
I'm coming down with a fever
I'm really out to sea
This kettle is boiling over
I think I'm a banana tree
Oh dear, I'm going slightly mad
I'm going slightly mad
It finally happened, happened
It finally happened uh huh
It finally happened I'm slightly mad - oh dear!
I'm knitting with only one needle
Unravelling fast its true
I'm driving only three wheels these days
But my dear how about you?
I'm going slightly mad
I'm going slightly mad
It finally happened
It finally happened oh yes
It finally happened
I'm slightly mad!
Just very slightly mad!
And there you have it!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Global Warming My Frozen, Hairy Butt
The Queen once commented about how lucky I was to have a job which involved some out of town travel. I think her exact comment was something like, “I would love to have a job that involved travel.” I, the one who is “lucky” to have such a job and is the one tasked with accomplishing said travel, have a slightly different opinion on the subject. She thinks I’m being curmudgeonly when I repeatedly argue there is exactly zero glamour or fun involved in getting up before the crack of dawn of time, going out into the cold, harsh world (yes, the longer I work from home, the more of an anti social hermit I become), board a plane breathing the same air as 100+ strangers carrying God knows what germs only to arrive in a city where I have zero chance of 1) getting any productive work done, or 2) getting out to see any of the town’s attractions. My reward for putting up with this supposed benefit is spending the day at the destination de jour stuck in an office or conference room with a marginal view (at best, sometimes you get stuck in a windowless room) and no entertainment amenities like internet access or television (or worse, year old People magazines) so that I can attempt to negotiate a reasonable settlement with (more often than not) unreasonable people or (worse yet) review someone else’s files.
Yesterday was one of those days The Queen seems to feel I am lucky to have. I arose at 5:00 AM after getting to bed way too late the night before. I woke up with a headache which was temporarily beaten into submission with two Tylenol and copious amounts of caffeine (which I will pay for later today I am sure). The only saving graces are that the claim (which has been hanging around for five years and several adjusters) settled and I caught a flight home leaving 30 minutes earlier than my originally scheduled flight which was delayed by weather in parts unknown. All in all, I probably got home a couple of hours earlier than I would have otherwise. Southwest airlines rocks.
Anyway, I’ve been meaning to write something about this whole Global Warming/Climate Change brouhaha for sometime now. It may come as a shock to those who know me, but I have a rather straight forward but, nevertheless, strong opinion on the subject. I just haven’t found the impetus necessary to take the time to put fingers to keyboard and go to town on it. Well, yesterday was my lucky day.
Just before boarding the plane to return home from another exciting day spent in an attorney’s office in San Antonio for mediation in one of the claims I inherited from someone else, I checked Drudge Report on my iPhone and saw a headline which gave me pause (and a profound sense of amusement when I followed the link) as well as the requisite justification to waste some time on this subject.
Senate Global Warming Hearing Cancelled
(http://epw.senate.gov/public/index.cfm?FuseAction=Minority.Blogs&ContentRecord_id=b3e826ad-802a-23ad-45b8-8fa00c661d62)
After all the news about the Climate Change email scandals, the record low temperatures, the cries of tree hugging “preachers” everywhere that I must save the polar bears by trading in my perfectly functional 10 year old, 300,000 mile Nissan Maxima for a powder blue Toyota Prius that might or night not kill me with a gas pedal that sticks…after all that, the fact that the Senate’s hearings on "Global Warming Impacts, Including Public Health, in the United States." are brought to a screeching halt by a blizzard of monumental proportions is just too priceless a moment to pass up.
The irony is just overwhelmingly delicious. I mean, really, who is the Ivy League educated staffer who thought it would be a good idea to schedule a hearing on GLOBAL WARMING in the middle of WINTER in Washington, D.C. when a BLIZZARD is forecast. Brilliance. HelloOOOooo???? Is anyone in there?
If you want to make political noise about global warming, you don’t hold hearings in the dead of winter at a northern location. You hold them in Death Valley in the middle of the summer. Can’t you just picture it now?
I’d better stop now before I give someone ideas.
Before I get too much further into this tirade, I feel compelled give you, the intrepid reader, a brief disclosure notice. Specifically, I think the idea of manmade global warming is a marketing ploy cooked up by the makers of compact fluorescent light bulbs, deep cycle NiMH and Li batteries and hybrid vehicles. There, now that the conspiracy theory is fully disclosed, we can get on with our story.
So, is there really such a thing as climate change? To be perfectly honest with ourselves and the available, reliable, scientific evidence, I think we must concede that, yes, in fact, there is such a thing as global climate change. There are a few wooly mammoths still frozen in glaciers like giant, Neolithic, TV dinners who might have a word or two to say on the subject to any naysayers. That is, if they could be thawed out, resuscitated and gifted with the power of human speech.
The bigger questions are whether or not mankind has contributed to, accelerated or otherwise caused the latest round of climate change and whether or not mankind can do one blessed thing about it. Based on the information I have come across, there is no way to definitively answer those questions.
That is not to say, however, we can not come up with some a fairly well educated and logical but still largely hypothetical statements on the subject.
First, man has had an impact on the environment. This one is pretty much a no brainer. If you break wind, take a shower, build a house, drive a car, fly on an airplane…basically, if you are born, live anywhere and eat anything on the planet and then die, you are impacting the environment. Being born? Medical waste has to be disposed of somewhere. Living and eating? You’ve got to cloth your naked body and consume food more or less daily which, by the way, creates waste in one form or another which must be dealt with. Dying? If you are cremated, guess what? Carbon emissions. If you get planted, think about all the trees killed and/or factory emissions that went into even the simplest of caskets. The Muslims might have it right after all: wrap your carcass in a sheet and dump what’s left in an unmarked hole in the desert to rot in peace.
It stands to reason that more people on the planet means more environmental impact, and there is a point at which the land will not be able to produce enough food to sustain the population. The term for that is “carrying capacity”. Once the carrying capacity of the land is reached, someone is going to go hungry. Guess what happens when there is not enough food to go around? Riots, if you’re lucky. Full blown war, if you’re not.
If you are a Christian, you can go read the book of Revelation chapters 6, 8 and 9 to get an idea of what that’s going to look like. If you’re not a Christian, I’d point you in the direction of the news footage from Ethiopia, Haiti and just about any where else in recent times which have undergone food shortages for whatever reason.
So, is there anything we can do about climate change?
I’m of two minds about this question. On the one hand, I believe in God. I further believe He has a plan for mankind and the earth, and there is not a thing mankind can do to change that plan. If climate change happens to suit His purposes, guess what? We’ll have climate change.
On the other hand, we shouldn’t be poor stewards of the world God left in our care either. That’s not to say we all need to give up our cars, homes and laptops to be tree hugging, tent dwelling hermits. We need to be mindful that actions and choices have consequences. Do you really want to use longer lasting compact fluorescent light bulbs? That’s great. Do you have any clue how to properly dispose of those little gems which are filled with toxic mercury when they quit working? I didn’t think so; and, yet, Congress has passed a resolution encouraging the use of CFLs. Do you want to drive a fuel efficient hybrid vehicle? Excellent. More power to you. Just one thing though: what are you planning on doing with the 1000 pounds or so worth of batteries that will lose their ability to recharge after about 100,000 miles? Are you planning to make it someone else’s problem by trading it in for another life limited hybrid which took a significant amount of resources to build? Doesn’t sound like such a good idea now after all, does it?
Can we and should we all make better choices and actions which are more environmentally sound? Absolutely. Do we always know the full consequences of those choices and actions? Not likely. We’re not that smart, and the environment it too complex. Should we force everyone to “do the right thing” (whatever that is) through legislation? Are you kidding me? Have you been paying attention to the crap Congress has been trying to do lately? Did you not catch that they weren’t even smart enough to schedule a hearing on global warming when there wasn’t a blizzard forecast?
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to freezing my butt off in this era of “global warming.”
Yesterday was one of those days The Queen seems to feel I am lucky to have. I arose at 5:00 AM after getting to bed way too late the night before. I woke up with a headache which was temporarily beaten into submission with two Tylenol and copious amounts of caffeine (which I will pay for later today I am sure). The only saving graces are that the claim (which has been hanging around for five years and several adjusters) settled and I caught a flight home leaving 30 minutes earlier than my originally scheduled flight which was delayed by weather in parts unknown. All in all, I probably got home a couple of hours earlier than I would have otherwise. Southwest airlines rocks.
Anyway, I’ve been meaning to write something about this whole Global Warming/Climate Change brouhaha for sometime now. It may come as a shock to those who know me, but I have a rather straight forward but, nevertheless, strong opinion on the subject. I just haven’t found the impetus necessary to take the time to put fingers to keyboard and go to town on it. Well, yesterday was my lucky day.
Just before boarding the plane to return home from another exciting day spent in an attorney’s office in San Antonio for mediation in one of the claims I inherited from someone else, I checked Drudge Report on my iPhone and saw a headline which gave me pause (and a profound sense of amusement when I followed the link) as well as the requisite justification to waste some time on this subject.
Senate Global Warming Hearing Cancelled
(http://epw.senate.gov/public/index.cfm?FuseAction=Minority.Blogs&ContentRecord_id=b3e826ad-802a-23ad-45b8-8fa00c661d62)
After all the news about the Climate Change email scandals, the record low temperatures, the cries of tree hugging “preachers” everywhere that I must save the polar bears by trading in my perfectly functional 10 year old, 300,000 mile Nissan Maxima for a powder blue Toyota Prius that might or night not kill me with a gas pedal that sticks…after all that, the fact that the Senate’s hearings on "Global Warming Impacts, Including Public Health, in the United States." are brought to a screeching halt by a blizzard of monumental proportions is just too priceless a moment to pass up.
The irony is just overwhelmingly delicious. I mean, really, who is the Ivy League educated staffer who thought it would be a good idea to schedule a hearing on GLOBAL WARMING in the middle of WINTER in Washington, D.C. when a BLIZZARD is forecast. Brilliance. HelloOOOooo???? Is anyone in there?
If you want to make political noise about global warming, you don’t hold hearings in the dead of winter at a northern location. You hold them in Death Valley in the middle of the summer. Can’t you just picture it now?
Senator: So, Mr. [pick your most hated industry and insert here] Lobbyist, you’re telling this committee Global Warming is not real. If that’s the case, please tell the committee if it’s hot enough for you outside yet.
Lobbyist: Well, Senator, we are in the middle of a desert…
Senator: (yelled in an accusatory tone for emphasis) A desert caused by greenhouse gases emitted by your industry’s manufacturing processes and products no doubt.
Lobbyist: Senator, our industry does not now have, nor has it ever had, production facilities in Death Valley.
Senator: I’m sure the polar bears are glad to hear that.
Lobbyist: Senator, there are no polar bears in Death Valley.
Senator: Why not? Has your industry killed them all?
I’d better stop now before I give someone ideas.
Before I get too much further into this tirade, I feel compelled give you, the intrepid reader, a brief disclosure notice. Specifically, I think the idea of manmade global warming is a marketing ploy cooked up by the makers of compact fluorescent light bulbs, deep cycle NiMH and Li batteries and hybrid vehicles. There, now that the conspiracy theory is fully disclosed, we can get on with our story.
So, is there really such a thing as climate change? To be perfectly honest with ourselves and the available, reliable, scientific evidence, I think we must concede that, yes, in fact, there is such a thing as global climate change. There are a few wooly mammoths still frozen in glaciers like giant, Neolithic, TV dinners who might have a word or two to say on the subject to any naysayers. That is, if they could be thawed out, resuscitated and gifted with the power of human speech.
The bigger questions are whether or not mankind has contributed to, accelerated or otherwise caused the latest round of climate change and whether or not mankind can do one blessed thing about it. Based on the information I have come across, there is no way to definitively answer those questions.
That is not to say, however, we can not come up with some a fairly well educated and logical but still largely hypothetical statements on the subject.
First, man has had an impact on the environment. This one is pretty much a no brainer. If you break wind, take a shower, build a house, drive a car, fly on an airplane…basically, if you are born, live anywhere and eat anything on the planet and then die, you are impacting the environment. Being born? Medical waste has to be disposed of somewhere. Living and eating? You’ve got to cloth your naked body and consume food more or less daily which, by the way, creates waste in one form or another which must be dealt with. Dying? If you are cremated, guess what? Carbon emissions. If you get planted, think about all the trees killed and/or factory emissions that went into even the simplest of caskets. The Muslims might have it right after all: wrap your carcass in a sheet and dump what’s left in an unmarked hole in the desert to rot in peace.
It stands to reason that more people on the planet means more environmental impact, and there is a point at which the land will not be able to produce enough food to sustain the population. The term for that is “carrying capacity”. Once the carrying capacity of the land is reached, someone is going to go hungry. Guess what happens when there is not enough food to go around? Riots, if you’re lucky. Full blown war, if you’re not.
If you are a Christian, you can go read the book of Revelation chapters 6, 8 and 9 to get an idea of what that’s going to look like. If you’re not a Christian, I’d point you in the direction of the news footage from Ethiopia, Haiti and just about any where else in recent times which have undergone food shortages for whatever reason.
So, is there anything we can do about climate change?
I’m of two minds about this question. On the one hand, I believe in God. I further believe He has a plan for mankind and the earth, and there is not a thing mankind can do to change that plan. If climate change happens to suit His purposes, guess what? We’ll have climate change.
On the other hand, we shouldn’t be poor stewards of the world God left in our care either. That’s not to say we all need to give up our cars, homes and laptops to be tree hugging, tent dwelling hermits. We need to be mindful that actions and choices have consequences. Do you really want to use longer lasting compact fluorescent light bulbs? That’s great. Do you have any clue how to properly dispose of those little gems which are filled with toxic mercury when they quit working? I didn’t think so; and, yet, Congress has passed a resolution encouraging the use of CFLs. Do you want to drive a fuel efficient hybrid vehicle? Excellent. More power to you. Just one thing though: what are you planning on doing with the 1000 pounds or so worth of batteries that will lose their ability to recharge after about 100,000 miles? Are you planning to make it someone else’s problem by trading it in for another life limited hybrid which took a significant amount of resources to build? Doesn’t sound like such a good idea now after all, does it?
Can we and should we all make better choices and actions which are more environmentally sound? Absolutely. Do we always know the full consequences of those choices and actions? Not likely. We’re not that smart, and the environment it too complex. Should we force everyone to “do the right thing” (whatever that is) through legislation? Are you kidding me? Have you been paying attention to the crap Congress has been trying to do lately? Did you not catch that they weren’t even smart enough to schedule a hearing on global warming when there wasn’t a blizzard forecast?
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to freezing my butt off in this era of “global warming.”
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