Shuttle Atlantis is Back!

Our dogs just went bonkers as Atlantis glided over Palm Bay on it's way to Kennedy Space Center, the sonic booms rocking the house, sounding and feeling as if a bulldozer had nudged it.

And the radio announced it touching down at the Space Center as I've been typing this.

They're home safe.

---

After two days of writing about politics, I feel all dirty and yucky.

So, I thought I would give y'all a break with some photos.

A Sad, Sad Day For Hollywood Liberals, and the People Who Love Them

Fidel Castro has stepped down as leader of Cuba.

I'm sure Michael Moore, Sean Penn, Susan Sarandon, George Clooney and other Hollywood liberals are bummin' today.

But they need to realize that Fidel is 81 years old and in bad health.

Liberals shouldn't worry that the People's Paradise that is today's Cuba is in good hands.

Fidel's younger brother, Raul, is taking over as Cuba's new Maximum Leader.

Raul has waited, lo these 40 years, for his turn at the helm.

Hollywood liberals should take comfort in the fact that Raul is younger, much more energetic, and chomping at the bit to enact his own ideas to cement Cuba's place as an earthly paradise for the proletariat.

See, Raul is a comparative spring chicken to Fidel, and at only 76 years of age, Hollywood liberals and the people who love them can expect great new things from Raul's fertile young mind.

Don't y'all worry yore purdy little heads none, now.

Raul will viciously crack down on any pesky talk of Cuba becoming a democracy.

Plus, Hollywood liberals still have Hugo Chavez to love. He'll probably be around a good while too, so they still have a fascist go-to guy in Hugo down there in South America.

I also bet that when England's Prince Charles heard about Fidel stepping aside and letting Raul rule from now on, Prince Charles ran immediately to his Mama's (the Queen) bedroom, begging her to do the same.

Stupid Seat Belt Laws and Iran's Nuclear Weapons Program

Warning: Rant ahead. Enter at your own risk.


We have the Iranians, who have said they're gonna wipe Israel off the map, and yet, even as I type this, the Iranians are working lickety-split to built nuclear bombs.

When America makes threatening statements about Iran's threats and their nuclear program, then the entire "civilized" world shouts America down.

So now we're all just sitting around, waiting and doing NOTHING to stop Iran as their nuclear program, supplied by Russia, kicks into high gear.

It makes me sick to think about how spineless America and the so-called civilized world is.

Then this weekend on the news, I kept hearing about film of Billy Ray Cyrus and his daughter Miley, in a vehicle without seat belts.

Consumer Reports (What?!) publicly chastises her for not wearing her seat belt.

And then I keep hearing about Miley and Billy Ray's seat belt scandal on TV, and when I look at the news on the internet, I kept reading about Miley and Billy Ray's seat belt scandal.

Seriously? This is big news?

First off, I think seat belt laws are some of THE stupidest laws anywhere on this planet.

It's one of those things that local and national politicians can pontificate about how these laws are necessary and how they save lives.

Fact is, seat belt laws are just another tax on stupid people.

Seat belt laws overall are only good for cash-strapped police forces. It's an easy $cha-ching$ for the local police funds. That's the ONLY reason for seat belt laws.

If people are too stupid to, or willfully ignore seat belt laws, then that's their own stupid fault.

But what makes my skin crawl is just how judgmental the people of this country have become over things like wearing a seat belt, to the point where when a famous fifteen year old girl gets caught on film not wearning one, it becomes national news.

I have worn seat belts since WAY before it became law to wear one. I personally dug the seat belts out of the cracks of our car's seats when I got my drivers license, and started using them. My friends as a teen all laughed at me and made fun of me, but I never cared. Seat belts make sense to me, so I've always worn them. Don't need fear of a stupid fine to get me to wear one, I WANT to survive an accident if I have one. Doesn't take calculus to figure that one out.

But on the other hand, we see Iran's dramatic increase in the speed of their nuclear "energy" program and millions around the world stand and shout, leave them alone, they have the right. My biggest problem with that is that Iran itself is practically floating on crude oil, enough to last many generations, yet it's vital to them to have a "peaceful" nuclear program. Yeah. Right.

I went to Louisiana public schools, and even I am not THAT dumb.

So here we are, in this increasingly stupid country, America, where voices are raised in loud, arrogant chastisement of a fifteen year old singer not wearing a seat belt.

And we intentionally whistle through the cemetery while Iran steadily builds it's unneeded nuclear "energy" program because so much of the world is too gutless to call them on it, even after verbally threatening the destruction of Israel.

I tell y'all, we're going to end up with a world so screwed up that there will be no way out.

Freak out about unworn seat belts when that is so unimportant an issue that I sincerely wonder about the sanity of Americans, all the while we willfully ignore the playground bully building nuclear weapons.

Not Important: Miley Cyrus seen in public not wearing a seat belt.

Important: Iran's nuclear weapons program being willfully ignored.

God? Help us all. Please? The patients have taken control of the asylum.

Picture Post, Sunday February 17, 2008

Beautiful light. Sometimes what makes a photograph is the subject. But I mostly take photos of scenery and "things" as opposed to people, and the subject matter can still be compelling, but you have to have great light. To me this photo is better because of that magic mix of lovely daylight and also some artificial lights that were turned on as the daylight waned.

Slanted afternoon sunlight makes even something as mundane as rusty metal of a train trestle become interesting subject matter.

This boardwalk is a great place to see manatees, so much so that it's part of Manatee Park in Melbourne, Florida. But I didn't see any manatees on this day.

A telephoto look at an office building in Melbourne, Florida.

Looking west along Crane Creek, and also the same boardwalk as two photos up, but the opposite direction from that earlier photo.

Have a great Sunday folks!

Happy Ballentimes Day, and Boring Political Stuff

An increasingly common problem with me lately is that I don't have anything of note to say.

So I'll start today's ramble by saying Happy Valentines Day to everyone. My daughters said it as "Ballentimes" Day when they were little. That's how I still think of it.

I would rant about how it's just a made up holiday and that it doesn't really mean anything, but no matter what, I usually end up with some tasty chocolate that I didn't have before hand, so that alone makes it sorta worthwhile.

I love me some chocolate.

Viva Valentines Day!

---

I think there is a really strong possibility that the race for the Democratic Presidential candidate is going to get ugly.

Uglier than it already is, I mean.

Right now, Barack Obama has a slim lead in Democratic delegates to the Democratic Presidential Convention coming up this summer.

Still up in the air are the delegates for the states that have yet to have either a Democratic caucus or primary to determine whether Mrs. Clinton or Mr. Obama get their state's delegates to the Democratic convention.

The way I see things playing out, if there is no heavy favorite going into the Democratic Convention, then I would have to lean toward Hilary Clinton walking out of there with the nomination.

Why? Especially when Mr. Obama seems to be on a hot streak right now?

Being President is what Hilary Clinton has worked toward as a personal goal for 35 years now.

It's why she has put up with Bill's shenanigans all these years; to become President of the United States herself.

To the Clintons, IT IS HILARY'S TURN.

Plain and simple. Mrs. Clinton, Bill, and those working for her campaign firmly believe that it's her turn and I personally believe that she will pull out every stop, and call in each and every favor owed to the Clintons in her quest to fulfill this life goal of hers to become President.

Plus, this is realistically her only shot at it.

Mrs. Clinton is 60 years old. She will not ever have another chance this good of becoming the US President.

She will try every option, good or bad. Four years from now, she'll be fighting against an incumbent President, and will be 64. Her party will pass her up for someone else.

Frankly I'm surprised at McCain's support at this point if for no other reason than he's older than the typical Presidential candidate.

Right or wrong, a 64 year old woman (or 68 in 2016) stands almost no chance of winning either party's Presidential nomination.

Mr. Obama is young. He has lots of years ahead where, if he fails to be elected President in 2008, he can still run for the office.

Again, this is Hilary Clinton's ONLY shot at becoming President. It's what she has worked her whole adult life for, first to see Bill become President, and as soon as his two terms were over, they both started actively working to set her up to win the Presidency.

I firmly believe that she will never, ever step aside if Mr. Obama is ahead coming into the Democratic Convention.

I believe she will use every thing at her disposal to sway the "superdelegates" to tip the nomination for the Democratic Presidential Nominee, even if it totally rips apart the Democratic Party.

I would be absolutely shocked, if she gracefully stepped aside to let Obama win, when her life's goal and all the work and years she has put into becoming President herself is on the line.

If I've learned anything, it's that the Clinton's (both of them) think of the Clintons first, and the Democratic Party and America a distant second and third.

The mainstream media is kicking Hilary Clinton while she is down right now, but remember, she and Bill have many, many old Democratic cronies, that they will use in every way possible to try to stop Mr. Obama becoming the Democratic Party choice.

They have a "Clinton machine" that Mr. Obama does not have, and I personally still think that she can win the Democratic side of this year's Presidential race.

In a way, I kind of pity Mr. Obama and those who have fallen under his spell if Mrs. Clinton manages to pull a rabbit out of the hat.

There will be crying and gnashing of teeth if she wins by using old, white, Democratic power brokers.

But I truly believe she will do so if that's what it takes.

Hilary Clinton believes she's entitled to the Presidency. She won't let an upstart like Mr. Obama win if theres anything at all, or any person at all, that she can use to secure herself as the Democratic Presidential Nominee.

I think that the Democratic race for President in 2008 is going to be more juicy this year than any soap opera ever conceived.

This Article is Just Plain Funny

NFL Meteorologists Warn Steaming Black-Guy Heads Occurring Later Every Year

"The phenomenon of weather-related African-American supracranial vaporous emission, or 'Steaming Black-Guy Heads,' as it is colloquially known, occurs when cold dry winter air comes into contact with hot, humid, shaven heads of football players, causing their personal water vapor to condense and rise on a column of heated air," the statement read in part. "It is then observed by network cameramen, who overwhelmingly choose to film African-American players due to the dramatic contrasts that result—especially when the player in question is backlit—and beamed to millions of households during time-outs, replay reviews, and other stoppages of play. The viewers then realize that winter has come to America."

There are great quotes in the article, supposedly by Vinnie Testaverde and Brett Favre.

I haven't been laughing much lately, but this one cracked me up.

At Obama's Campaign Offices in Houston

Che Guevara was a communist, bank-robbing, murderous thug from Argentina who also happened to be Castro's favorite executioner in the great revolution in Cuba in the late 1950s.

Che lived by the gun and died by the gun. Shot down like the dog he was.

This picture was taken in the offices of the Obama campaign in Houston, Texas.

That flag behind it's owner is a Cuban flag with Che's head embossed on it.

Lets you know where the sympathies of the Texas Obama supporters lie.

To me, this is unbelievably scary.

Oh, and if you think that's one person in one office, here's another.

Keith White - Single Handed Yachting

On Saturday afternoon, for the first time in a while, I took my camera and went and wandered around with it, taking photos.

Since I live on the Atlantic Coast of Florida, I usually gravitate toward water somewhere.

I ended up on Crane Creek in Melbourne, Florida, where the creek runs into the Indian River Lagoon.

As I wandered around, I saw a big, gorgeous sailboat coming in, the pilot (or whatever you call a guy driving a boat) parking his yacht. It was interesting to watch him move the boat back and fort to get it into his spot.


I took a few pictures, a couple of which are in this post.

The sign on one side of his yacht said Single Handed Sailing - Atlantic Challenge.

Thinking this was a race of some sort, I looked it up on the internet when I got home and came across Keith White's web site.

It turns out that Mr. White lost use of his left arm in a car accident in the early 1990s and is now sailing to raise money for the Royal National Lifeboat Institution in the U.K., as well as raising money to help restore Cutty Sark, the famous clipper ship.

Anyway, just took a few pics as he was trying to park.


I learned all of this about Mr. White after the fact. I wish I had know about it before hand.

I would have stayed nearby to see if I could talk to him for a few minutes. It is impressive that he has sailed across the Atlantic alone, and disabled.

I noticed on his web site, his last update was that he was headed toward Melbourne and had radioed ahead to let them know he was on his way to port here.

I've always wanted to go sailing, but never have. I've never been in a boat out on the ocean in deep water.

I've been in hot water plenty of times though. I've been married 23 years, you can't help but get in hot water now and then.

I'm sure being in hot water isn't nearly as fun as sailing on deep waters.

---

If you're one of my three daily viewers of my John's Daily Digital Images blog, you don't have to bother going over there today, I'm putting this same post over there because I have a couple of UK photography pals that might be interested in this.

Picture Post, Sunday February 10, 2008

Thanks to modern pharmacology's ability to lessen my rickety back's pain, as well as reduce the pain in my gimpy left leg, on Saturday afternoon, I actually felt up to getting out and wandering around with my camera.

Along Crane Creek in Melbourne, Florida.

Cool.





Have a great Sunday folks!

Dear Ronald McDonald

From now on, when I stop in and buy a double cheeseburger from the dollar menu, could you please spread the pickle slices out on the sandwich?

It's a bummer to bite into it and get all the pickles in one bite because they were stacked on top of one another, and then not have any dill goodness on the rest of the burger.

I hate trying to peel the burger apart to do this myself because all the cheese sticks to the bread and tears up the burger.

It would be better if you could just do that when you're making the burger in the store.

So, if you could distribute the pickles out more, that would be great.

Thanks,
John

P.S. I think many others would agree with me on this.

Godzirra Attacks Woman! (film at 11)

We have a cat that is pretty brutal on the local lizard population.

I've often said that lizards must be pretty dumb, or word would have gotten out among them to avoid our house/yard at all costs.

I can't remember the last time I saw a live lizard with a complete tail; if they survive an encounter with Sassy, at the very least they lost their tail.

The other day there was one was in our master bathroom.

I'm in the kitchen making some yummy tuna salad and Lovely Wife, being the intrepid type, comes walking in there from our room with both hands clasped together having caught the poor tail-less lizard in our own catch-and-release program.

She goes out the front door to release him to the wilds of Florida, and just as the front door closes behind her, I hear a strange noise, and then Lovely Wife yells,

"Ow!...Stupid lizard! I was trying to help you!"

She comes stomping back into the house (Lovely Wife, not the lizard), and I asked her what happened, thinking she'd fallen or something.

"That dumb lizard BIT ME!"

She held her hand up to me and in the palm of her hand were two little, tiny parallel lines of skin much redder than the surrounding skin, barely separated from one another, and I could just picture the lizard getting a little bit of skin there and chomping hard.

She wanted me to take a picture and to blog it, but the red marks disappeared too soon. Plus I don't have a macro lens anyway, so it would have been hard to photograph the little bite mark.

Of course, you all know what it's like to have a blog, someone in your family has a sniffle and of course they think it's GREAT bog material.

Lovely Wife had said, "You need to blog that," at which point Number Two Daughter pipes up and says "Godzilla attacks woman!" as a title suggestion.

And I'm thinkin' to myself, "Hey man, I'm the one with the blog. I'm the one with the pressure to create masterpieces of prose almost on a daily basis, and y'all are always telling me, 'Blog this,' or 'Blog that' all the time."

Seriously, do they think I would waste my obviously massive amount of writing talent on a story as lame as a lizard bite?

This had happened this past weekend, and then yesterday, she has the nerve to ask me, "Did you blog about my lizard bite yet?"

I was amazed that she actually still thought that silly story was worth a whole blog post. And not only that, but she obviously expected me to write about it.

Not to mention that this also tells me know that she hasn't read my blog since the weekend. I'm hurt; I have my pride, you know? She hasn't read my blog in three or four days and she hasn't died of mental malnutrition?

Bah-humbug.

Number Two Daughter probably expects me to use her silly "Godzilla Attacks Woman" title too.

Jeesh. Us famous bloggers sure do have lots of hangers-on to deal with.

How do we keep doing it, even under all this pressure by amateurs and other, lesser human beings who don't have their own blogs?

Chronic Pain Turns Brain to Squishy Mush

Chronic pain seen altering how brain works

By Julie Steenhuysen Tue Feb 5, 5:50 PM ET

CHICAGO (Reuters) - Brain scans of people in chronic pain show a state of constant activity in areas that should be at rest, U.S. researchers said on Tuesday, a finding that could help explain why pain patients have higher rates of depression, anxiety and other disorders.

And...

"These findings suggest that the brain of a chronic pain patient is not simply a healthy brain processing pain information but rather it is altered by the persistent pain in a manner reminiscent of other neurological conditions associated with cognitive impairments," they wrote.

Yeah.

I coulda told 'em that.

In easier to understand English too.

An Update in the Form of an Aimless Ramble

I'm good at rambling. It's how my mind works.

I haven't posted here in a a few days, and I honestly haven't cared, though I do love blogging.

Same old broken record; back pain.

This weekend was quite horrific, and that's no exaggeration. It's not a play for sympathy, or an excuse, it just is the truth.

Yesterday, Sunday, was as bad a single day I've had with my back in a while, and that's saying something.

Despite my post a couple of weeks ago about football, I ended up watching the Superbowl with Lovely Wife.

I couldn't sleep, I couldn't sit still, I moved from place to place, got up and walked around, and even my pain medicine barely helped.

I finally got to sleep last night, and lo and behold, though I was hurting this morning, it was more of my normal pain than the misery of the past few days.

I'll take my breaks where I can get them.

So, with nothing better to do, I watched the New York Giants pull off an amazing performance against the incredible New England Patriots.

When I've seen the Patriots play this year, they looked like an impressive, juggernaut of a machine. They've had some close calls, but they always won.

The Giants defense took it to them, and when I saw Tom Brady screaming in anger at his receivers, I knew he was rattled. Something you rarely see with Tom Brady.

Anyway, though I'm not really a fan of either team, I kinda wanted to see Eli Manning win a Superbowl the year after his brother did. Now, no matter what the future holds for them, the Manning brothers have a Superbowl ring each, and that pleases me.

Though I honestly think that Tom Brady will end up having smashed so many all-time quarterback records it won't be funny. If he were to quit today, he'd still be a sure-fire inductee in the hall of fame. Not bad for someone who is only 30 or so.

Plus, I like seeing all the talking head sports guys on TV turn out to have been so wrong about the game. That's fun for me.

And today, I'm so happy to not be hurting so bad as this past weekend that I don't know what to say.

It's like the weekend was a massive migraine and today is only a garden variety sinus headache. It still hurts, but less.

I have to admit, that I was teetering on the edge of complete despair yesterday evening. Today is a whole new outlook.

I sure hope that the bad days are behind me for a while.

I so enjoy getting a few photos ready and posting them here on Sundays, but that wasn't even a consideration this past weekend, and with today's clearer mind, I hate to have missed my Sunday Picture Post, but I can't change that.

Take care folks, I'll post when I can.

Five Years Ago Today

I got up and had two tasks to take care of. I was going to the barber to get a haircut and I had to go buy two new tires for one of our cars.

I was in the barber shop, in my guy's chair and getting a cut when the barber next to him received a phone call.

When he hung up the phone, he turned to Dave, the guy cutting my hair and said, "That was my wife. She said the Space Shuttle is over due and they think something has gone wrong."

The owner of the shop heard part of this and had Paul repeat what he had said.

The owner went to the back of the shop and came out with a TV set, and another barber cleared off some counter space, and they turned it on and tried to tune in a station.

They were able to get reception of one of the Orlando stations that had been covering Columbia's return anyway.

It was about this time that the first reports and footage from California and Texas started coming in, both news and home videos of what looked to be a cluster of meteors entering the atmosphere.

When I saw that, I knew there wasn't any hope left.

It was one of those times where things seemed to get really quiet and where time itself seemed to drag slowly.

I still have snapshots in my mind of how everyone was standing and sitting in the barber shop that day as we all watched what we understood to be one of those tragedies that we would always remember, both the event and where we were and what we were doing at the time.

After my haircut was finished, I went over to a tire shop, and while having two tires put on our car, I sat in their "waiting room" and watched with the other tire buyers of that day, the further news reports as they came on their TV.

The space program is such a big and proud part of where we live.

Kennedy Space Center is about 40 miles north of our home here in Palm Bay, and when the shuttle enters the atmosphere it sometimes glides right up the Atlantic Coast of Florida, essentially right over our heads.

When the shuttle approaches Kennedy from the south like that, it drags it's sonic boom right over our home, and it literally rattles the windows and shakes the house. Everybody jumps, startled even when we were expecting it, and the dogs run around barking, thinking someone's at the door or whatever.

Apparently, Columbia was coming in from the west that day, and from the time it gets through the atmosphere to when the wheels touch down at Kennedy, only 15 minutes will pass.

It literally comes through the atmosphere over California and will touch down in Florida 15 minutes later. Amazing.

So there's just this tiny window where if the shuttle is a couple of minutes late, they know something terrible has happened.

It's not an exciting story, but that's my story about where I was when Shuttle Columbia broke apart on reentry five years ago today.

It's one I'd rather not have experienced.

When I was a kid in the late 1960s, early 1970s, I ate up all the information I could get about astronauts and the space program. And living so close to Kennedy Space Center, we can walk outside at work or even from our front yard and see the Shuttle go up. We can also see Titan and Delta rockets lift off from Canaveral Air Force Station as well.

At work, there's always a bunch of us that go outside, or if we're in a building with access to the roof, we'll go up there to watch liftoffs.

It's always a proud moment to see these things.

This photo was taken by a company photographer where I work. The building below the arc of the shuttle launch is the building that I presently work in. (This photo was taken in the mid 1990s before we moved here though.)

Buncha Gulls and The Lone Gull

I took several photos of these gulls lined up here to gab with one another. I actually had another in this series that I liked better, until Lovely Wife called my attention to the gull on the far right.

His head is tilted and he's looking at the others like a person might in a serious conversation. After seeing that and looking at them all again, I like this one best now myself.

I like the moody clouds and the one lonesome gull on the little information shed thingy there.

After you look at these, look a the the one on my John's Daily Digital Images blog for today, specifically the one of the blue sky, huge clouds, and the sihouette of the palm trees. These two photos above and that one on the other blog were taken just a minute or so apart, but the ones above are looking toward the east and over the Atlantic, whereas the one on my other blog is looking west toward the evening sun/sky. Huge difference in mood and vibe by just turning around almost on the same spot.

---

I know some of yoose guys have been having crazy-cold weather up there (everywhere is "up there" when you live in Florida) but we've been having temps 10degreesF above normal this week.

Sunny and 75-80F.

Though actually, I could use a cold snap about now. You know, where the lows at night are 50 and the highs around 65 or 70.

That's what passes for a cold snap down here.

Juan "Amnesty" McCain Wins Florida Primary!

I'm bummin' a little bit today.

Disenfranchised!

As a voter in the great state of confusion Floridia, I went to do my duty before going to work.

I'm talking about voting in the Florida primary you gutter minds, you.

And I was disenfranchised!

Me!

A very large, southern, white, Christian, male was disenfranchised!

They asked me for a picture ID before I was allowed to vote.

Where were the ACLU lawyers that are supposed to be lurking at each and every polling place in America on every voting day?

What if I happened to have been so poor that I couldn't have paid the ten bucks or whatever to have at least a picture ID made at the drivers license place?

Seriously. Isn't that what all the ruckus is about when people try to stop voter fraud by requiring the showing of a picture ID of some sort? That this somehow disenfranchises the poor, and minorities?

Well, if they can afford a carton of cigarrettes or a jug of wine, they could go to their local DMV and at least have a picture ID made, right?

Right.

But now I know how it feels to be all disenfranchised against, or, well, however you'd say that.

And I'm still buzzing from the rush of righteous indignation of being asked such a demeaning thing as to prove that I was who I said I was by showing a picture ID.

Because if there's one thing that's worse than actually seeing my face in person, it's seeing a picture of said mug. I don't photograph well.

Since I'm still fired up, I think I'll go find a protest march or something to march in.

Anybody seen Cindy Sheehan lately?

The Incredible 2007 Christmas Underwear Bonanza (Too Much Information)

All my life I have received the usual assortment of Christmas gifts of the socks, undershirts, underpants variety.

As a kid I HATED getting any form of underwear for Christmas. Heck, as a boy, I didn't want clothing of any form, that was just a present that should have been a toy. A total waste.

Then as a teen, I'd appreciate a new pair of blue jeans or cool shirt or new shoes. The attitude slips up on you insidiously; pure stealth.

Underwear was never a welcome gift, though I did use it.

But somewhere along the way I became an old man. What the heck happened? I'm only 45!

This past Christmas, I myself picked out a Christmas present(s) for me that I have never had in all of my life.

I picked out packages giving me a total of 10, count 'em, 10, new undershirts. The kind with the info printed in the inside of the shirt; no pesky tag to itch the back of my neck any more.

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE!

I picked out packages giving me a total of 10, count 'em, 10, new pairs of underpants.

HOLD ON TO YOUR HATS FOLKS, THERE'S STILL MORE!

I also picked out packages giving me a total of 12, count 'em, 12, new pairs of white cotton socks. (You know, the kind for big feet, men's sized 12-15, with extra cushy bottoms. I wear size 14 shoes.)

All of this on the same Christmas!

I know you're thinkin', "I hope that's all because I can't take ANY MORE!"

Sorry to disappoint and put your heads in danger of exploding, but the story doesn't end there.

Since I must have single handedly emptied a 1000 acre cotton field with my 2007 Christmas Underwear Bonanza, you'll never guess what I did next.

I washed all of the new undies, and THREW AWAY EVERY LAST PIECE OF MY OLD UNDERWEAR! Every t-shirt, every pair of underpants, every cotton sock that I owned went into the trash. EVERY ONE.

Then I stood and looked wonderingly into my underwear drawer (2nd drawer down from top) in my chest 'o drawers. For the first time since I was a baby wearing new stuff, I had all new undies, every darn piece. Freshly washed with good smelling detergent and fabric softener, gleaming from the drawer with that soft, incredibly white glow that only new underwear can have.

No more socks with holes.

No more undershirts with underarm holes and food stains.

No more underpants with the elastic waistband torn loose in places.

No more white socks with holes in the toes.

But I have found in the past month since Christmas, that there is a down side.

I can no longer dismiss the claims and talk of people younger than me with the brutal statement, "I have underwear older than you!"

Because all of my skivies are only one month old.

But on the up side, if I get into a bad car wreck and they take me to the hospital, the cops, EMTs, and hospital personnel will all, without exception, say, "This boy without a doubt has on some of the nicest, cleanest underwear I've ever seen; and look, no holes anywhere! His Mama sure did raise him right."

And my Sainted Mother will be so proud that I listened to her about always wearing good clean underwear in case of an accident.

'Cause then she won't be embarrassed and ashamed and stuff because of me.

I think also, that Fruit of the Loom stock went up 3% on my purchase alone, thus helping the US economy.

Picture Post, Sunday January 27, 2008

Don't have any spectacular images today. Some days are spectacular, some are average.

They're still purdy, though, and may be preferable to looking at slushy, dirty snow for some of you.

Just click to enlarge, and then smell the warm, salty air.

This first one is a still shot of a piece of performance art being acted out by the Atlantic Ocean that I call "Death of a Sandcastle."

Being on the east coast of Floridia, this is what sunsets actually look like from the beach here. That's why it costs more to have a beach home on the Gulf of Mexico side of the state, though it ain't cheap here. (Yes, I intentionally misspelled Florida. I call it Floridia sometimes, like Number One Daughter sometimes calls Canada, Canadia.)

I've never been on a sailboat, and I've never been on any kind of boat or ship out on the ocean, but I love seeing boats like this, ready to be taken out.

Your basic "Yield to Peds" sign (whatever the heck a "Ped" is), but I loved how the soft afternoon sun setting behind me made the sign seem as if it were glowing from within. What can I say, I'm easy to please.

This swarm of seagulls was kinda creepy. I looked carefully but didn't see Tippi Hedren anywhere, so I finally relaxed. Though I kept a wary eye out for any one of these guys who might try to use my head as a public toilet, as gulls are sometimes wont to do.

Have a great Sunday, folks.

I Got A Phone Call From Mitt Romney!

Yesterday, Friday, I got a phone call from none other than Republican candidate for US President, Mitt Romney!

Well, actually, it wasn't from Mitt Romney himself, it was a woman working on his presidential campaign.

But that's almost as good, right?

Well, actually, it wasn't a live woman working on his presidential campaign, but a pre-recorded message from woman working on his presidential campaign.

But that still counts, doesn't it?

Do want to know what the pre-recorded message from what was originally a live woman working on Mitt Romney's presidential campaign?

Well, I'm gonna tell you.

The pre-recorded message from what was originally a live woman working on Mitt Romney's presidential campaign told me, personally, that John McCain voted against President Bush's tax cuts, not once, but twice!

The only word that comes to mind to describe such a despicable man is bad. Bad John McCain. And not meant in the modern good way that the word bad can be used.

Now that I think about it, why didn't Mitt Romney call me himself?

Now that I think about it, why did they call my house with a pre-recorded message from what was originally a live woman working on Mitt Romney's presidential campaign?

Now that I think about it further, why didn't they at least call my house with a message from a real, live woman working on Mitt Romney's presidential campaign?

Hmmm.

Hey y'all!

Guess what?

Yesterday, Friday, I got an annoying, time-wasting, pre-recorded message from the Mitt Romney campaign.

What, my vote isn't worth Mitt or one of his minions calling me with a real, live person?

---

Now that Fred dropped out of the race, I'll most likely vote for Romney. He's sorta conservative.

Maybe "Conservative Lite." (Mitt will have to get that trademarked before Donald Trump steals it and trademarks it before him.)

Besides, Mitt Romney has, by far, THE best hair of all the presidential candidates. Way better than the Breck Girl, John Edwards.

Shooting Snakes

I've never really been all that afraid of snakes.

Don't get me wrong, if one is too close and surprises me, I'll jump, yell, and teeter on the edge of consciousness just like the next person, but if I see one soon enough, I don't get all freaked out like some folks.

Now, if you wanted to see Ol' John well and truly freak out, a close encounter with tarantulas would do the trick for you. (Thanks to a childhood viewing of the old grade B horror movie, "Frogs!" where a guy gets covered by and killed by a whole slew of tarantulas.)

In the time-honored, twisted way my mind works, today I thought of something that I haven't thought of in years.

Having grown up in north Louisiana, if you see a snake, chances are it's a cotton mouth moccasin. Quite poisonous. (That's probably why I jump, yell, and run if surprised, I'm genetically wired to automatically assume than any snake within 5 feet of me is a water moccasin.)

I'm not trying to give the impression that snakes are hanging everywhere around you in Louisiana, but you sure see a bunch of them if you grow up there, so snakes end up being not such a big deal.

What I was reminded of, was one occasion where Don C., Sainted Mother, Big Sis, Big Brother, Myself, and probably Younger Brother (but he'd have been at best a toddler here) went for a picnic in the Natchez Trace just north of Natchez, Mississippi.

The little town we lived in, Vidalia, Louisiana, was a small town on the Louisiana side of the Mississippi River directly across from Natchez.

The section of the Natchez Trace Parkway that is set aside as part of a National Park is a beautiful, green, humid, hot, lazy, place filled with massive old trees and lots of Spanish Moss.

Back in the late 60s and early 70s, we would often go over there and picnic, and swim in Cole's Creek, which is now off limits to swimmers.

Cole's Creek ran pretty clear and was fun to walk in too, because many sections were really shallow, and us kids could walk along in the creek, just doing whatever it is kids did back then. Throwing rocks. Whatever.

This was also the only time in my life I have ever seen a trident being used by a person other than someone in a devil's outfit. We encountered a couple of young men walking along the creek, each holding along metal trident and trying to spear fish to eat. I thought that was really neat at the time; I had hither to only been exposed to your basic cane fishing pole or a Zebco rod and reel if you were a fancy fisherman. The tridents were definitely something I would never have thought of but did then and still think is a neat way to try fishing in clear, shallow streams.

On this particular day, we heard a few gunshots, and went back to the picnic area by the creek that my parents had selected, and found that Don C. had shot and killed a snake.

As kids we had a morbid fascination with the dead snake, but then again, we'd already seen a lot of dead AND live snakes in our few years of life, and quickly moved on to play and eat and just revel in being in such a neat place to spend a day.

I guess I don't really have a point to this. I guess blog posts don't really have to have a point or to mean something, do they?

I just hadn't thought of that day in many years and got to thinking about how, though we took (and still take) snakes seriously, they weren't a big deal.

And how growing up around guns, I don't think any more about them than snakes. I know guns are dangerous, but that with care, you won't get hurt, and that sometimes when you need one, they come in quite handy.

My Dad almost always had a gun nearby, and over the years, encountered a couple of situations where showing those trying to bother him that he was packing, saved him from possible harm. Only an idiot attacks a man with a loaded gun in his hand.

Don C. and his guns. Kids wandering the woods and a clear, cool creek. Watching fishermen using tridents. Dead snakes. Picnics for hungry kids and parents who loved and protected us.

Good times, good times.

Martians Are Real, and They Are Green!

This is an actual image taken by the NASA Mars rover "Spirit."

Is that cool or what?

Next time I see Elvis at Burger King (we both recommend the Triple Whopper with cheese, hold the onions) I'm going to SO talk with him about this.

Photos and story at the Daily Mail

Here's a pic of the proud (and rightly so) photographer who once and for all proved that there is life on Mars, mugging for the cameras.


I'm not sure who took the picture of Spirit there, I can only assume that he got the green lady to take his photo when she got to the bottom of the hill, and came over to where he was.

---

All kidding aside, that is an amazing photo.

I've Got Nothin'

Sorry folks. Nothing much to say.

Well, actually, I've been reading some physics books lately. Would you like a lecture on what I've learned about string theory and M-Theory and multiple dimensions?

Yeah. That's what I thought.

Here's a nice picture of the ocean instead.

I know, I know what y'all are thinkin', "the ocean again?"

Hey, I live in Florida, if I were still in Louisiana, I'd be posting photos of pine trees all the time.

THAT would be boring, right?

I Don't Learn from My Mistakes

I've never really been a big sports fan.

When I was a teen, I loved watching pro football. It seemed so awesome to me back then.

I loved the big, strong, monstrous guys butting heads.

To this day I still love thinking about some of the awesome runs that Houston Oiler running back Earl Campbell made in the late 70s.

It seemed as if every year the Oilers would get to the AFC championship, only to lose to the Terry Bradshaw era Steelers.

But as a family man, I quickly lost even that interest in pro football.

Over the years, I have watched very, very few hours of sports.

I always end up hating myself when I do watch a game of anything, later realizing that I could have at least read a good book with that time instead.

So yesterday, I sat and watched both the NFC Championship game as well as the AFC Championship game.

Both of the teams I was rooting for lost, so as I went to bed last night I was mentally kicking myself for wasting seven hours of my life like that.

To avoid hating myself altogether, I practiced my guitar (chords and scales and a couple of songs) a little before I went to bed.

THAT was fun, so why didn't I practice my guitar for seven hours yesterday and not waste all that time watching stupid football games? Seriously, I'm the winner every time I practice my guitar or bass, or read some in my engineering books, or even read a novel, which at least engages my mind at deep levels.

It's like I told my wife, every now and then I guess I have to waste a whole day doing something stupid like watching sports, and then regret the heck out of it, so that hopefully I'll go a few more years doing something more productive with my time instead of wasting it like that.

That's seven hours of my life I'll never get back.

Plus, I'm convinced that when I watch whole games like that, that I'm the reason why the team I want to win loses.

I'd like to offer a formal apology right here, right now, to both the Green Bay Packers and the San Diego Chargers for watching their games and thereby causing them to lose.

Hopefully I won't be stupid enough to watch any more sports games again.

At least I know that I won't be wasting my time in watching the Superbowl this year.

And you can't pay me enough money to get me to watch basketball, baseball, or NASCAR, so no worries about those being on TV over the next six months or so.

Picture Post, Sunday January 20, 2008

These were all taken on the same day.

Lovely Wife and I were going to go to a favorite park a few miles north of where we live to let me wander and get a few photos, but north of our home a storm front was low in the sky and moving southward.

We went south about 15 miles instead, thinking that the front would move out over the ocean, but instead it was like a perfect row of dark clouds bringing storm showers and cold wind moving exactly southward along the coast.

When this front, led by these black clouds passed over, the temperature dropped about 10 degrees F.

We got back to the car when one of the showers came right at us, big drops of really cold rain.

This first shot is my favorite of the whole day, and is yet another Walmart parking lot photo.

These next ones were all taken at a beautiful park along the Indian River Lagoon in Sebastian, Florida.



In this final shot, the white bird is and ibis, but the blue one is some sort of heron (I think).

Have a great Sunday, folks!

The Jena Six (again)

I just read what I believe to be THE most complete and powerful article about the so-called "Jena Six" that I have read to date.

It is currently posted at The Weekly Standard Online, and is written by Charlotte Allen, and her article opens with:

Jena
The case of the amazing disappearing hate crime.
by Charlotte Allen
01/21/2008, Volume 013, Issue 18

Jena, Louisiana
In early December the case of the "Jena Six"--the six African-American high school students in Louisiana accused of viciously beating a white classmate in 2006--collapsed dramatically with a felony guilty plea by one of the defendants. As something that was going to trigger "America's next great civil rights movement" (to quote National Public Radio) and grassroots protests against the "new Jim Crow" and the systematic discrimination against blacks in the criminal justice system, this was quite a letdown.

(emphasis mine)

If you have been interested in this case, I urge you to go and read the whole article, though it isn't a short one.

It covers the whole escapade from beginning to end, and includes how the original reporter intentionally linked the beating of Justin Barker with the hanging of nooses from a school tree two months previously, even though there was no link between the two incidents.

It's amazing how little the truth of the scenario was reported by major media outlets.

Time and research has proved the LaSalle Parish District Attorney to have been right initially, that this was a case of a couple of thugs with juvenile criminal records for violent crime inspiring a few friends to help them beat up some kid for no other reason than pure meanness.

My previous post on the Jena Six can be found HERE.

Sushi

OK. I will admit here that I've never even tried sushi.

I know that sashimi is raw fish (or other raw seafood), not sushi, and that sushi is actually vinegar and rice.

But that's beside the point.

The point is, there are many things in this world that I will not eat, simply because I cannot mentally deal with eating these things. Not that they taste bad, or that the consistency is gross, but I simply can't wrap my head around eating certain things.

Plus, I'm from Louisiana. I might not know much, but I DO KNOW that fish is supposed to be battered in cornmeal and deep fried.

I know that sushi is a popular thing, if for no other reason that some people think it's cool to eat sushi. Kind of like how some people think smoking makes them look cool or driving a sports car makes them look cool. The fact that neither is true is beside the point to these people.

So, you have folks all over the place now eating sushi, or more correctly, sashimi, but who cares?

I guess I do a little bit, just enough to write a blog post making fun of people who eat the stuff.

And don't get me started on people who claim to LOVE calamari, fried squid, another thing I can't mentally deal with eating. At least they fried it though; I approve of the cooking method.

All of that brings me to this photo that I took outside the Walmart in Sebastian, Florida a few days ago:
Yes, Lovely Wife and I are two of the unwashed masses who shop at Walmart for almost everything, thus hastening the sure destruction of the American way of life, at least according to my cubicle neighbor at work.

I'll buy some good sliced turkey and good cheese at Walmart with nary a thought about it's safety, but seeing that Walmart has a sushi bar sure did stop me in my tracks.

And luckily I happened to have my trusty Nikon D70s on my shoulder while having to stop and ponder the significance of the use of "sushi bar" and "Walmart" in the same sentence. (I have trouble walking and thinking simultaneously.)

So I took this photo just to prove to y'all I'm not a liar.

I can just hear all the sushi snobs in America talking to one another, "Hey, Hon? What ya say we run down to Walmart for some sushi? I don't feel like cooking."

Apparently Walmart doesn't feel like cooking either.

What I Could Talk About

I could talk about the incredible three ring circus that is the current race for US President.

I could talk about how the Fred Thompson campaign is lagging, but how every time I hear the man speak, I want to vote RIGHT NOW.

I could talk about the news saying that Romney MUST win Michigan, but in reality, he has as many delegate votes right now as anyone else in the leadership of the Republican bunch. What's up with that? Are the media trying to make things look desperate for him when they aren't?

I could talk about how truly weird, hateful, and obnoxious a certain segment of Ron Paul's following is. He has some truly nutty folks following him.

I could talk about how Huckabee is the poster boy for RINOs, Republican in name only.

I could talk about how the Clinton campaign looks so ludicrous in repeatedly talking about how she is "down with the struggle" for black people's rights way more than Obama is.

I could talk about how it mystifies me how Obama is so popular, but the man still hasn't said anything of substance yet. What the heck does the man believe? Does anyone really know? Seriously, he's a sharp and engaging man that talks a lot about hope, but says little to nothing on what we're supposed to be hoping in.

I could go on and on, but I won't.

Here's a couple of purdy pictures instead.

Peace out, yo.

Sunset Over Walmart

You can have your silly romantic sunsets over the ocean or in the mountains.

I'll take mine over Walmart, baby!

Never know when a nice photo opportunity will strike, even at Walmart.