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This sub is 65 years old, but still pretty impressive.
http://www.nonplused.org/panos/uss_pampanito/html/01.html
Monday, May 31, 2010
The logic of grandchildren
1. She was in the bathroom, putting on her makeup, under the watchful eyes of her young granddaughter, as she'd done many times before. After she applied her lipstick and started to leave, the little one said, "But Grandma, you forgot to kiss the toilet paper good-bye!" I will probably never put lipstick on again without thinking about kissing the toilet paper good-bye....
2. My young grandson called the other day to wish me Happy Birthday. He asked me how old I was, and I told him, 62. My grandson was quiet for a moment, and then he asked, "Did you start at 1?"
3. After putting her grandchildren to bed, a grandmother changed into old slacks and a droopy blouse and proceeded to wash her hair. As she heard the children getting more and more rambunctious, her patience grew thin. Finally, she threw a towel around her head and stormed into their room, putting them back to bed with stern warnings. As she left the room, she heard the three-year-old say with a trembling voice,
"Who was THAT?"
4. A grandmother was telling her little granddaughter what her own childhood was like. "We used to skate outside on a pond. I had a swing made from a tire; it hung from a tree in our front yard. We rode our pony. We picked wild raspberries in the woods."
The little girl was wide-eyed, taking this all in. At last she said, "I sure wish I'd gotten to know you sooner!"
5. My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, "Grandma, do you know how you and God are alike?"
I mentally polished my halo and I said, "No, how are we alike?''
"You're both old," he replied.
6. A little girl was diligently pounding away on her grandfather's word processor. She told him she was writing a story.
"What's it about?" he asked.
"I don't know," she replied. "I can't read."
7. I didn't know if my granddaughter had learned her colors yet, so I decided to test her. I would point out something and ask what color it was. She would tell me and was always correct. It was fun for me, so I continued. At last, she headed for the door, saying, "Grandma, I think you should try to figure out some of these colors yourself!"
8. When my grandson Billy and I entered our vacation cabin, we kept the lights off until we were inside to keep from attracting pesky insects. Still, a few fireflies followed us in. Noticing them before I did, Billy whispered, "It's no use Grandpa. Now the mosquitoes are coming after us with flashlights."
9. When my grandson asked me how old I was, I teasingly replied, "I'm not sure." "Look in your underwear, Grandpa," he advised "Mine says I'm 4 to 6."
10. A second grader came home from school and said to her grandmother, "Grandma, guess what? We learned how to make babies today." The grandmother, more than a little surprised, tried to keep her cool. "That's interesting." she said. "How do you make babies?"
"It's simple," replied the girl. "You just change 'y' to 'i' and add 'es'."
11. Children's Logic: "Give me a sentence about a public servant," said a teacher.
The small boy wrote: "The fireman came down the ladder pregnant."
The teacher took the lad aside to correct him. "Don't you know what pregnant means?" she asked.
"Sure," said the young boy confidently. 'It means carrying a child."
12. A grandfather was delivering his grandchildren to their home one day when a fire truck zoomed past. Sitting in the front seat of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog. The children started discussing the dog's duties.
"They use him to keep crowds back," said one child.
"No," said another. "He's just for good luck."
A third child brought the argument to a close."They use the dogs," she said firmly, "to find the fire hydrants."
13. A 6-year-old was asked where his grandma lived. "Oh," he said, "she lives at the airport, and when we want her, we just go get her. Then, when we're done having her visit, we take her back to the airport."
14. Grandpa is the smartest man on earth! He teaches me good good things, but I don't get to see him enough to get as smart as him!
15. My Grandparents are funny, when they bend over, you hear gas leaks and they blame their dog.
2. My young grandson called the other day to wish me Happy Birthday. He asked me how old I was, and I told him, 62. My grandson was quiet for a moment, and then he asked, "Did you start at 1?"
3. After putting her grandchildren to bed, a grandmother changed into old slacks and a droopy blouse and proceeded to wash her hair. As she heard the children getting more and more rambunctious, her patience grew thin. Finally, she threw a towel around her head and stormed into their room, putting them back to bed with stern warnings. As she left the room, she heard the three-year-old say with a trembling voice,
"Who was THAT?"
4. A grandmother was telling her little granddaughter what her own childhood was like. "We used to skate outside on a pond. I had a swing made from a tire; it hung from a tree in our front yard. We rode our pony. We picked wild raspberries in the woods."
The little girl was wide-eyed, taking this all in. At last she said, "I sure wish I'd gotten to know you sooner!"
5. My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, "Grandma, do you know how you and God are alike?"
I mentally polished my halo and I said, "No, how are we alike?''
"You're both old," he replied.
6. A little girl was diligently pounding away on her grandfather's word processor. She told him she was writing a story.
"What's it about?" he asked.
"I don't know," she replied. "I can't read."
7. I didn't know if my granddaughter had learned her colors yet, so I decided to test her. I would point out something and ask what color it was. She would tell me and was always correct. It was fun for me, so I continued. At last, she headed for the door, saying, "Grandma, I think you should try to figure out some of these colors yourself!"
8. When my grandson Billy and I entered our vacation cabin, we kept the lights off until we were inside to keep from attracting pesky insects. Still, a few fireflies followed us in. Noticing them before I did, Billy whispered, "It's no use Grandpa. Now the mosquitoes are coming after us with flashlights."
9. When my grandson asked me how old I was, I teasingly replied, "I'm not sure." "Look in your underwear, Grandpa," he advised "Mine says I'm 4 to 6."
10. A second grader came home from school and said to her grandmother, "Grandma, guess what? We learned how to make babies today." The grandmother, more than a little surprised, tried to keep her cool. "That's interesting." she said. "How do you make babies?"
"It's simple," replied the girl. "You just change 'y' to 'i' and add 'es'."
11. Children's Logic: "Give me a sentence about a public servant," said a teacher.
The small boy wrote: "The fireman came down the ladder pregnant."
The teacher took the lad aside to correct him. "Don't you know what pregnant means?" she asked.
"Sure," said the young boy confidently. 'It means carrying a child."
12. A grandfather was delivering his grandchildren to their home one day when a fire truck zoomed past. Sitting in the front seat of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog. The children started discussing the dog's duties.
"They use him to keep crowds back," said one child.
"No," said another. "He's just for good luck."
A third child brought the argument to a close."They use the dogs," she said firmly, "to find the fire hydrants."
13. A 6-year-old was asked where his grandma lived. "Oh," he said, "she lives at the airport, and when we want her, we just go get her. Then, when we're done having her visit, we take her back to the airport."
14. Grandpa is the smartest man on earth! He teaches me good good things, but I don't get to see him enough to get as smart as him!
15. My Grandparents are funny, when they bend over, you hear gas leaks and they blame their dog.
Rolling a Mercedes . . .
The best car advertisement yet...sound on
Now THIS is a car roll!
For any of you who have ever rolled a car, this is the RIGHT way to do it.
The stretch of highway that this ad was filmed on is in the Fraser Canyon , British Columbia , Canada . The tunnel they did this in is the China Bar Tunnel on Hwy 1 just North of Spuzzum. I've been through that tunnel a thousand times. Wish I'd been there to see this.
The car is a Mercedes Gull Wing.
You can't do this with a Toyota Prius or a Smart Car!
Now THIS is a car roll!
For any of you who have ever rolled a car, this is the RIGHT way to do it.
The stretch of highway that this ad was filmed on is in the Fraser Canyon , British Columbia , Canada . The tunnel they did this in is the China Bar Tunnel on Hwy 1 just North of Spuzzum. I've been through that tunnel a thousand times. Wish I'd been there to see this.
The car is a Mercedes Gull Wing.
You can't do this with a Toyota Prius or a Smart Car!
Saturday, May 29, 2010
The Test . . .
I'm pleased to be surrounded by so many very wise people. Intelligent folks. Smart people. From time to time I administer a test to all those on my email lists to ensure they still are entitled to remain on my email lists. I'm sure you will pass.
Ready? Begin:
THE GIRAFFE TEST!
1. How Do You Put A Giraffe Into A Refrigerator?
Stop & Think About It & Decide On Your Answer Before You Scroll Down.
The Correct Answer Is: Open The Refrigerator, Put In The Giraffe & Close The Door.
This Question Tests Whether You Tend To Do Simple Things In An Overly Complicated Way.
2. How Do You Put An Elephant Into A Refrigerator?
Did You Say...."Open The Refrigerator, Put In The Elephant & Close The Door?
WRONG ANSWER!
Correct Answer: Open The Refrigerator, Take Out The Giraffe, Put In The Elephant & Close The Door.
This Tests Your Ability To Think Through The Repercussions Of Your Previous Actions.
3. The Lion King Is Hosting An Animal Conference. All The Animals Attend.....Except One. Which Animal Does Not Attend?
Correct Answer: The Elephant. The Elephant Is In The Refrigerator. You Just Put Him In There.
This Tests Your Memory.
Okay, Even If You Did Not Answer The First Three Questions Correctly, You Still Have One More Chance To Show Your True Abilities.
4. There Is A River You Must Cross But It Is Used By Crocodiles & You Do Not Have A Boat. How Do You Manage It?
Correct Answer: You Jump Into The River & Swim Across. Have You Not Been Listening? All The Crocodiles Are Attending The Animal Meeting.
This Tests Whether You Learn Quickly From Your Mistakes.
Ready? Begin:
THE GIRAFFE TEST!
1. How Do You Put A Giraffe Into A Refrigerator?
Stop & Think About It & Decide On Your Answer Before You Scroll Down.
The Correct Answer Is: Open The Refrigerator, Put In The Giraffe & Close The Door.
This Question Tests Whether You Tend To Do Simple Things In An Overly Complicated Way.
2. How Do You Put An Elephant Into A Refrigerator?
Did You Say...."Open The Refrigerator, Put In The Elephant & Close The Door?
WRONG ANSWER!
Correct Answer: Open The Refrigerator, Take Out The Giraffe, Put In The Elephant & Close The Door.
This Tests Your Ability To Think Through The Repercussions Of Your Previous Actions.
3. The Lion King Is Hosting An Animal Conference. All The Animals Attend.....Except One. Which Animal Does Not Attend?
Correct Answer: The Elephant. The Elephant Is In The Refrigerator. You Just Put Him In There.
This Tests Your Memory.
Okay, Even If You Did Not Answer The First Three Questions Correctly, You Still Have One More Chance To Show Your True Abilities.
4. There Is A River You Must Cross But It Is Used By Crocodiles & You Do Not Have A Boat. How Do You Manage It?
Correct Answer: You Jump Into The River & Swim Across. Have You Not Been Listening? All The Crocodiles Are Attending The Animal Meeting.
This Tests Whether You Learn Quickly From Your Mistakes.
Frozen Crabs & the Blonde Stewardess
A lawyer boarded an airplane in New Orleans with a box of frozen
crabs and asked a blonde stewardess to take care of them for him. She took the box and promised to put it in the crew's refrigerator.
He advised her that he was holding her personally responsible for them
staying frozen, mentioning in a very haughty manner that he was a lawyer, and proceeded to rant at her about what would happen if she let them thaw out. Needless to say, she was annoyed by his behavior.
Shortly before landing in New York , she used the intercom to announce
to the entire cabin,"Would the lawyer who gave me the crabs, in New Orleans , please raise your hand?"
Not one hand went up... so she took them home and ate them.
Two lessons here:
1. Lawyers aren't as smart as they think they are.
2. Blondes aren't as dumb as most folk think.
crabs and asked a blonde stewardess to take care of them for him. She took the box and promised to put it in the crew's refrigerator.
He advised her that he was holding her personally responsible for them
staying frozen, mentioning in a very haughty manner that he was a lawyer, and proceeded to rant at her about what would happen if she let them thaw out. Needless to say, she was annoyed by his behavior.
Shortly before landing in New York , she used the intercom to announce
to the entire cabin,"Would the lawyer who gave me the crabs, in New Orleans , please raise your hand?"
Not one hand went up... so she took them home and ate them.
Two lessons here:
1. Lawyers aren't as smart as they think they are.
2. Blondes aren't as dumb as most folk think.
Side by Side . . .
'Side by Side'
By Second Lieutenant Eric Montgomery, U.S. Marine Corps
For the Commander William Earl Fannin, Class of 1945, Capstone Essay Contest
For one former enlisted Marine and veteran of the war in Iraq, being a commissioned officer carries a great deal of personal weight.
During the summer of 2005, my brother Brian and I were serving together in Iraq with Weapons Company, 3d Battalion, 25th Marines. Words could never describe the immense pride I felt serving side by side with him in combat. Two brothers, childhood best friends that now shared the sacred title of Marine, fighting together in a cause for which we both had very deep convictions.
It truly was our finest moment in the context of our own personal history. We both proudly wore the eagle, globe, and anchor and strived to carry on the traditions of the Marines who had gone before us. Most important to us was excellence in combat. I could write pages about the great memories we shared together in Iraq, but that is not the purpose here.
On 1 August that summer, while conducting combat operations outside the city of Haditha, Lance Corporal Brian P. Montgomery was killed in action. I was destroyed. Never in my life had I felt like such a failure. What was I going to say to my parents? What would I tell Brian's wife? To make things worse, I was immediately pulled from my platoon and sent home to attend Brian's funeral. Not only had my brother been killed, but I felt like I was going home in defeat, as if I were retreating. His death did not become a reality for me until I was flying over the Atlantic Ocean back to the States, when a flight attendant handed me a copy of USA Today. On the front page was a story about Brian.
Bringing Brian Home
Before I left Iraq, I was given a new mission by my company first sergeant. It was my job to tell Brian's story, to ensure his legacy did not die with him. It was also my duty to make sure Brian's body made it home to my family and that he was properly laid to rest. While I did not embrace this mission at first, I slowly started to grasp the importance of it. Had I not been a Marine, I would not have been able to carry out this mission, and I would not have been able to carry his casket to his final resting place.
Carrying a fallen Marine's casket is a privilege reserved for fellow Marines. It is the most important mission any Marine could have. Now, for the first time in my short career, I truly knew what it meant to be a Marine. Members of the Corps take care of each other, bottom line; in life, in death, on the streets of heaven, or in the fires of hell. Whatever I said at Brian's funeral would be the last thing people would remember about my brother.
So on a sunny August morning, in a church filled to capacity with crowds of people standing outside because they couldn't fit inside, I stood at the pulpit and with fire in my eyes I delivered the best eulogy I could muster, honoring my childhood hero for the selfless sacrifice he had made for everyone in that room. On that day, Brian defeated death. I knew that his story, his legacy, would be carried on from that day forward in the hearts and minds of everyone in that church. I knew that they would forever be grateful for Brian and so many other men and women like him.
About Becoming an Officer
After the service, with tears in my eyes, I joined five other Marine honor guards to carry Brian's body back to the hearse so he could be taken to his final resting place. As I was about to get back into the limousine with my family, the commanding general of the 4th Marine Division, Major General Douglas V. O'Dell, approached me. He told me that I had delivered the finest eulogy he had ever heard and that I had truly honored Brian. He also asked me if I had ever thought about becoming a Marine officer, to which I answered, "Yes." He then told me he would do anything to make that a reality. The general kept his word. He made it a point to take care of me, an obscure lance corporal from Ohio, because we both shared the title of United States Marine.
I tell this story for a couple of reasons. First, it comes with the hope that readers will look up Brian's story and carry it with them in their hearts. Second, the story sums up the importance of my role as a Marine officer, not only in the context of history, but also in light of current events. Marines take care of each other. We always have, and we always will.
We carry on the traditions of those who have gone before us. From Archibald Henderson to John Lejeune, from Dan Daly to Jason Dunham, it has always been that way. We fight and die for each other. We honor the men and women who have paid for our right to wear the Marine uniform with their own blood, sweat, and tears. Semper Fidelis is not merely a motto for a Marine; it is a way of life. All of this is very easily said but much more difficult to actually embody.
What It All Means
The importance of being a Marine Corps officer is the same today as it has always been throughout the service's history. Nothing else matters. It is a simple concept that I hold dear to my heart. I must give my Marines everything I have and then some. I must train harder, be willing to sacrifice more, hold myself to the highest standard, and set an example for each of my subordinates.
If I am going to send them into harm's way, I must ensure that I give them the greatest opportunity to succeed. I must also ensure that I have given my Marines the greatest training possible and that I have left nothing to question or chance. As officers, we owe that much to each and every parent of a Marine and to the individual Marines themselves. We have to be able to look their parents in the eye and tell them that their son's or daughter's sacrifice was not a waste. We have to be able to do this without the guilt of knowing that we failed one of our Marines.
For some midshipmen selected as Marine officers, being commissioned as a Marine is the cool thing to do. For others it is just the next step in the natural progression of attending the Naval Academy. For me, it is much different. It is carrying on a legacy that two brothers began forging on Parris Island and solidified while serving together in Iraq. When I receive my commission as a Marine second lieutenant, it will not be me alone receiving it. Instead, Brian will be there, too. It will be a small victory for two brothers who were separated by the realities of war. We will eventually be reunited the day we assume our post guarding the streets of heaven, side by side, as brothers, as Marines.
Second Lieutenant Montgomery received his commission on 28 May. He will attend The Basic School at Quantico, Virginia, and hopes to be selected as a Marine infantry officer.
By Second Lieutenant Eric Montgomery, U.S. Marine Corps
For the Commander William Earl Fannin, Class of 1945, Capstone Essay Contest
For one former enlisted Marine and veteran of the war in Iraq, being a commissioned officer carries a great deal of personal weight.
During the summer of 2005, my brother Brian and I were serving together in Iraq with Weapons Company, 3d Battalion, 25th Marines. Words could never describe the immense pride I felt serving side by side with him in combat. Two brothers, childhood best friends that now shared the sacred title of Marine, fighting together in a cause for which we both had very deep convictions.
It truly was our finest moment in the context of our own personal history. We both proudly wore the eagle, globe, and anchor and strived to carry on the traditions of the Marines who had gone before us. Most important to us was excellence in combat. I could write pages about the great memories we shared together in Iraq, but that is not the purpose here.
On 1 August that summer, while conducting combat operations outside the city of Haditha, Lance Corporal Brian P. Montgomery was killed in action. I was destroyed. Never in my life had I felt like such a failure. What was I going to say to my parents? What would I tell Brian's wife? To make things worse, I was immediately pulled from my platoon and sent home to attend Brian's funeral. Not only had my brother been killed, but I felt like I was going home in defeat, as if I were retreating. His death did not become a reality for me until I was flying over the Atlantic Ocean back to the States, when a flight attendant handed me a copy of USA Today. On the front page was a story about Brian.
Bringing Brian Home
Before I left Iraq, I was given a new mission by my company first sergeant. It was my job to tell Brian's story, to ensure his legacy did not die with him. It was also my duty to make sure Brian's body made it home to my family and that he was properly laid to rest. While I did not embrace this mission at first, I slowly started to grasp the importance of it. Had I not been a Marine, I would not have been able to carry out this mission, and I would not have been able to carry his casket to his final resting place.
Carrying a fallen Marine's casket is a privilege reserved for fellow Marines. It is the most important mission any Marine could have. Now, for the first time in my short career, I truly knew what it meant to be a Marine. Members of the Corps take care of each other, bottom line; in life, in death, on the streets of heaven, or in the fires of hell. Whatever I said at Brian's funeral would be the last thing people would remember about my brother.
So on a sunny August morning, in a church filled to capacity with crowds of people standing outside because they couldn't fit inside, I stood at the pulpit and with fire in my eyes I delivered the best eulogy I could muster, honoring my childhood hero for the selfless sacrifice he had made for everyone in that room. On that day, Brian defeated death. I knew that his story, his legacy, would be carried on from that day forward in the hearts and minds of everyone in that church. I knew that they would forever be grateful for Brian and so many other men and women like him.
About Becoming an Officer
After the service, with tears in my eyes, I joined five other Marine honor guards to carry Brian's body back to the hearse so he could be taken to his final resting place. As I was about to get back into the limousine with my family, the commanding general of the 4th Marine Division, Major General Douglas V. O'Dell, approached me. He told me that I had delivered the finest eulogy he had ever heard and that I had truly honored Brian. He also asked me if I had ever thought about becoming a Marine officer, to which I answered, "Yes." He then told me he would do anything to make that a reality. The general kept his word. He made it a point to take care of me, an obscure lance corporal from Ohio, because we both shared the title of United States Marine.
I tell this story for a couple of reasons. First, it comes with the hope that readers will look up Brian's story and carry it with them in their hearts. Second, the story sums up the importance of my role as a Marine officer, not only in the context of history, but also in light of current events. Marines take care of each other. We always have, and we always will.
We carry on the traditions of those who have gone before us. From Archibald Henderson to John Lejeune, from Dan Daly to Jason Dunham, it has always been that way. We fight and die for each other. We honor the men and women who have paid for our right to wear the Marine uniform with their own blood, sweat, and tears. Semper Fidelis is not merely a motto for a Marine; it is a way of life. All of this is very easily said but much more difficult to actually embody.
What It All Means
The importance of being a Marine Corps officer is the same today as it has always been throughout the service's history. Nothing else matters. It is a simple concept that I hold dear to my heart. I must give my Marines everything I have and then some. I must train harder, be willing to sacrifice more, hold myself to the highest standard, and set an example for each of my subordinates.
If I am going to send them into harm's way, I must ensure that I give them the greatest opportunity to succeed. I must also ensure that I have given my Marines the greatest training possible and that I have left nothing to question or chance. As officers, we owe that much to each and every parent of a Marine and to the individual Marines themselves. We have to be able to look their parents in the eye and tell them that their son's or daughter's sacrifice was not a waste. We have to be able to do this without the guilt of knowing that we failed one of our Marines.
For some midshipmen selected as Marine officers, being commissioned as a Marine is the cool thing to do. For others it is just the next step in the natural progression of attending the Naval Academy. For me, it is much different. It is carrying on a legacy that two brothers began forging on Parris Island and solidified while serving together in Iraq. When I receive my commission as a Marine second lieutenant, it will not be me alone receiving it. Instead, Brian will be there, too. It will be a small victory for two brothers who were separated by the realities of war. We will eventually be reunited the day we assume our post guarding the streets of heaven, side by side, as brothers, as Marines.
Second Lieutenant Montgomery received his commission on 28 May. He will attend The Basic School at Quantico, Virginia, and hopes to be selected as a Marine infantry officer.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
And, yes . . . I verified it with snopes.
It is true.
The Dam
This is an actual letter sent to a man named Ryan DeVries regarding a pond on his property. It was sent by the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Quality, State of Pennsylvania . This guy's response is hilarious, but read The State's letter before you get to the response letter.
State of Pennsylvania 's letter to Mr. DeVries:
SUBJECT: DEQ
File No.97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec 20; Lycoming County
Dear Mr. DeVries:
It has come to the attention of the Department of Environmental Quality that there has been recent unauthorized activity on the above referenced parcel of property. You have been certified as the legal landowner and/or contractor who did the following unauthorized activity:
Construction and maintenance of two wood debris dams across the outlet stream of Spring Pond.
A permit must be issued prior to the start of this type of activity. A review of the Department's files shows that no permits have been issued Therefore, the Department has determined that this activity is in violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.
The Department has been informed that one or both of the dams partially failed during a recent rain event, causing debris and flooding at downstream locations.. We find that dams of this nature are inherently hazardous and cannot be permitted. The Department therefore orders you to cease and desist all activities at this location, and to restore the stream to a free-flow condition by removing all wood and brush forming the dams from the stream channel. All restoration work shall be completed no later than January 31, 2010 .
Please notify this office when the restoration has been completed so that a follow-up site inspection may be scheduled by our staff. Failure to comply with this request or any further unauthorized activity on the site may result in this case being referred for elevated enforcement action..
We anticipate and would appreciate your full cooperation in this matter. Please feel free to contact me at this office if you have any questions.
Sincerely,
David L. Price
District Representative and Water Management Division.
Here is the actual response sent back by Mr. DeVries:
Re: DEQ File
No.. 97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County
Dear Mr..Price,
Your certified letter dated 11/17/09 has been handed to me. I am the legal landowner but not the Contractor at 2088 Dagget Lane, Trout Run, Pennsylvania .
A couple of beavers are in the (State unauthorized) process of constructing and maintaining two wood 'debris' dams across the outlet stream of my Spring Pond. While I did not pay for, authorize, nor supervise their dam project, I think they would be highly offended that you call their skillful use of natures building materials 'debris.'
I would like to challenge your department to attempt to emulate their dam project any time and/or any place you choose. I believe I can safely state there is no way you could ever match their dam skills, their dam resourcefulness, their dam ingenuity, their dam persistence, their dam determination and/or their dam work ethic.
These are the beavers/contractors you are seeking. As to your request, I do not think the beavers are aware that they must first fill out a dam permit prior to the start of this type of dam activity.
My first dam question to you is:
(1) Are you trying to discriminate against my Spring Pond Beavers, or
(2) do you require all beavers throughout this State to conform to said dam request?
If you are not discriminating against these particular beavers, through the Freedom of Information Act, I request completed copies of all those other applicable beaver dam permits that have been issued. (Perhaps we will see if there really is a dam violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.)
I have several dam concerns. My first dam concern is, aren't the beavers entitled to legal representation? The Spring Pond Beavers are financially destitute and are unable to pay for said representation -- so the State will have to provide them with a dam lawyer.
The Department's dam concern that either one or both of the dams failed during a recent rain event, causing flooding, is proof that this is a natural occurrence, which the Department is required to protect. In other words, we should leave the Spring Pond Beavers alone rather than harassing them and calling them dam names.
If you want the damed stream 'restored' to a dam free-flow condition please contact the beavers -- but if you are going to arrest them, they obviously did not pay any attention to your dam letter, they being unable to read English.
In my humble opinion, the Spring Pond Beavers have a right to build their unauthorized dams as long as the sky is blue, the grass is green and water flows downstream. They have more dam rights than I do to live and enjoy Spring Pond. If the Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Protection lives up to its name, it should protect the natural resources (Beavers) and the environment (Beavers' Dams).
So, as far as the beavers and I are concerned, this dam case can be referred for more elevated enforcement action right now. Why wait until 1/31/2010? The Spring Pond Beavers may be under the dam ice by then and there will be no way for you or your dam staff to contact/harass them.
In conclusion, I would like to bring to your attention to a real environmental quality, health, problem in the area It is the bears! Bears are actually defecating in our woods. I definitely believe you should be persecuting the defecating bears and leave the beavers alone. If you are going to investigate the beaver dam, watch your dam step! The bears are not careful where they dump!
Being unable to comply with your dam request, and being unable to contact you on your dam answering machine, I am sending this response to your dam office.
THANK YOU,
RYAN DEVRIES & THE DAM BEAVERS
It is true.
The Dam
This is an actual letter sent to a man named Ryan DeVries regarding a pond on his property. It was sent by the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Quality, State of Pennsylvania . This guy's response is hilarious, but read The State's letter before you get to the response letter.
State of Pennsylvania 's letter to Mr. DeVries:
SUBJECT: DEQ
File No.97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec 20; Lycoming County
Dear Mr. DeVries:
It has come to the attention of the Department of Environmental Quality that there has been recent unauthorized activity on the above referenced parcel of property. You have been certified as the legal landowner and/or contractor who did the following unauthorized activity:
Construction and maintenance of two wood debris dams across the outlet stream of Spring Pond.
A permit must be issued prior to the start of this type of activity. A review of the Department's files shows that no permits have been issued Therefore, the Department has determined that this activity is in violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.
The Department has been informed that one or both of the dams partially failed during a recent rain event, causing debris and flooding at downstream locations.. We find that dams of this nature are inherently hazardous and cannot be permitted. The Department therefore orders you to cease and desist all activities at this location, and to restore the stream to a free-flow condition by removing all wood and brush forming the dams from the stream channel. All restoration work shall be completed no later than January 31, 2010 .
Please notify this office when the restoration has been completed so that a follow-up site inspection may be scheduled by our staff. Failure to comply with this request or any further unauthorized activity on the site may result in this case being referred for elevated enforcement action..
We anticipate and would appreciate your full cooperation in this matter. Please feel free to contact me at this office if you have any questions.
Sincerely,
David L. Price
District Representative and Water Management Division.
Here is the actual response sent back by Mr. DeVries:
Re: DEQ File
No.. 97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County
Dear Mr..Price,
Your certified letter dated 11/17/09 has been handed to me. I am the legal landowner but not the Contractor at 2088 Dagget Lane, Trout Run, Pennsylvania .
A couple of beavers are in the (State unauthorized) process of constructing and maintaining two wood 'debris' dams across the outlet stream of my Spring Pond. While I did not pay for, authorize, nor supervise their dam project, I think they would be highly offended that you call their skillful use of natures building materials 'debris.'
I would like to challenge your department to attempt to emulate their dam project any time and/or any place you choose. I believe I can safely state there is no way you could ever match their dam skills, their dam resourcefulness, their dam ingenuity, their dam persistence, their dam determination and/or their dam work ethic.
These are the beavers/contractors you are seeking. As to your request, I do not think the beavers are aware that they must first fill out a dam permit prior to the start of this type of dam activity.
My first dam question to you is:
(1) Are you trying to discriminate against my Spring Pond Beavers, or
(2) do you require all beavers throughout this State to conform to said dam request?
If you are not discriminating against these particular beavers, through the Freedom of Information Act, I request completed copies of all those other applicable beaver dam permits that have been issued. (Perhaps we will see if there really is a dam violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.)
I have several dam concerns. My first dam concern is, aren't the beavers entitled to legal representation? The Spring Pond Beavers are financially destitute and are unable to pay for said representation -- so the State will have to provide them with a dam lawyer.
The Department's dam concern that either one or both of the dams failed during a recent rain event, causing flooding, is proof that this is a natural occurrence, which the Department is required to protect. In other words, we should leave the Spring Pond Beavers alone rather than harassing them and calling them dam names.
If you want the damed stream 'restored' to a dam free-flow condition please contact the beavers -- but if you are going to arrest them, they obviously did not pay any attention to your dam letter, they being unable to read English.
In my humble opinion, the Spring Pond Beavers have a right to build their unauthorized dams as long as the sky is blue, the grass is green and water flows downstream. They have more dam rights than I do to live and enjoy Spring Pond. If the Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Protection lives up to its name, it should protect the natural resources (Beavers) and the environment (Beavers' Dams).
So, as far as the beavers and I are concerned, this dam case can be referred for more elevated enforcement action right now. Why wait until 1/31/2010? The Spring Pond Beavers may be under the dam ice by then and there will be no way for you or your dam staff to contact/harass them.
In conclusion, I would like to bring to your attention to a real environmental quality, health, problem in the area It is the bears! Bears are actually defecating in our woods. I definitely believe you should be persecuting the defecating bears and leave the beavers alone. If you are going to investigate the beaver dam, watch your dam step! The bears are not careful where they dump!
Being unable to comply with your dam request, and being unable to contact you on your dam answering machine, I am sending this response to your dam office.
THANK YOU,
RYAN DEVRIES & THE DAM BEAVERS
Hooray for the Russians!
http://true-turtle.livejournal.com/85315.html
HOORAY FOR THE RUSSIANS!
Perhaps we should contract with them to protect American shipping interests. They take care of business promptly and a clear message is sent to all other pirates.
Good for them!
I am sure, from now on no Russian vessel will be assaulted. In other words, don't screw with the Russians! And forget reading them their Miranda rights as we do here. The Russian's mete their own form of justice to these pirates, in terms they will understand.
This is part of the videotape showing the Russian Navy commandos on the Somalian pirate ship. You may remember that the pirates captured a Russian oil tanker. The EroUnion navy that patrols these waters could not interfere because there could be casualties.
All explanations are in Russian and, with a single exception when a wounded pirate tells something in English, all conversations are between the commandos - in Russian. Sorry if you don't understand Russian but the pictures speak for themselves.
The soldiers freed their compatriots, moved all the pirates to their own (pirate) ship, searched the pirate ship for weapons and explosives, and took seven Somalian pirates. Then they left the ship and exploded it with all remaining pirates on it.
The person who placed this part of the tape on YouTube claims that the tape is much longer and he may download all of it but no one believes that this file will remain on YouTube for long. After all, the commandos sunk the majority of the pirates without any court proceedings, lawyers etc. That is, they used the anti-piracy laws of the 18th and the 19th centuries: Thecaptain of the rescuing ship has the right to decide what to do with the pirates. Usually, they were hanged.
HOORAY FOR THE RUSSIANS!
Perhaps we should contract with them to protect American shipping interests. They take care of business promptly and a clear message is sent to all other pirates.
Good for them!
I am sure, from now on no Russian vessel will be assaulted. In other words, don't screw with the Russians! And forget reading them their Miranda rights as we do here. The Russian's mete their own form of justice to these pirates, in terms they will understand.
This is part of the videotape showing the Russian Navy commandos on the Somalian pirate ship. You may remember that the pirates captured a Russian oil tanker. The EroUnion navy that patrols these waters could not interfere because there could be casualties.
All explanations are in Russian and, with a single exception when a wounded pirate tells something in English, all conversations are between the commandos - in Russian. Sorry if you don't understand Russian but the pictures speak for themselves.
The soldiers freed their compatriots, moved all the pirates to their own (pirate) ship, searched the pirate ship for weapons and explosives, and took seven Somalian pirates. Then they left the ship and exploded it with all remaining pirates on it.
The person who placed this part of the tape on YouTube claims that the tape is much longer and he may download all of it but no one believes that this file will remain on YouTube for long. After all, the commandos sunk the majority of the pirates without any court proceedings, lawyers etc. That is, they used the anti-piracy laws of the 18th and the 19th centuries: Thecaptain of the rescuing ship has the right to decide what to do with the pirates. Usually, they were hanged.
Monday, May 24, 2010
It's Over . . . He's Gone.
My brother, Eugene Lyle Davis, passed away Wednesday, 3:15 pm, Florida time, May 19th.
When I was born, my parents named me Lyle Eugene Davis. When Gene was born, four years later, my mom, in a burst of creative energy, named him Eugene Lyle Davis.
Somehow, I managed to forgive my mom for that terrible transgression.
I am saddened not so much by his passing, it was expected, but by the fact that I did not learn of his death until about 2pm yesterday (Sunday), the 23rd of May. Five days after he passed.
For some reason, Jody, his daughter, my niece, had opted to not notify either me, his brother, or his girlfriend of the last four months, with whom he had been living at the time of his heart attack.
Jody and Vicki (the former Vicki Wardrobe of Omaha), his ex-wife, had arrived in Fort Myers, Florida, after having been called by Nancy, Gene's girl friend.
Nancy had heard what she thought was Gene snoring. She jostled him to stop him snoring and rolled him over and immediately saw that he was dead. She called 911, the paramedics responded and rescuscitated Gene . . . but he had been dead for somewhere between eight and 15 minutes. He was transported to hospital and placed in ICU. All subsequent neurological tests showed Gene to have suffered severe hypoxia and that his brain, being deprived of both oxygen and blood for too long, had suffered too much trauma. He also had 100% blockage in his left carotid artery and 40% blockage in the other. If he survived, it would be as little more than a vegetable. At best, he would be in a wheelchair, staring off into space, him being in his own little world, with no ability to communicate or to care for himself.
I spoke with Jody about two or three days later (she had called me at 1:30am California time, 4:30am, Florida time to brief me). I agreed with the neurologist assessment and also agreed with her decision to take Gene off of life support.
She did not need my approval. She had had Gene sign a Living Will, Medical Directive, DNR, Power of Attorney, all kinds of documents. He had suffered two mild strokes several weeks prior to his massive heart attack and Jody had flown into Orlando from Oakland, Iowa, where she is a practicing veterinarian, met Gene, and took steps to ensure she'd have the legal documentation to control things.
It worked.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Jody and Vicki immediately, and bluntly, advised Nancy that she was not family and was not welcome. She was told to leave the hospital and she would not be allowed to return.
A day or two later, they contacted Nancy and advised her she could see Gene again, but only if she returned Gene's wallet, car keys, checking accounts, jewelry, several computers, etc.
Nancy, understandably, declined to submit to what amounted to blackmail.
In the meantime, Jody had given instructions to the nurses and hospital that no information was to be given out to anybody by anybody but her. That included other family members . . . of which there was only one. Me.
Following the early morning briefing from Jody, and my agreement that removing life support was appropriate, I never heard from Jody again.
Jody, however, was not yet done. She called the Lee County Sheriff's department, filed affidavits and a demand that the Sheriff retrieve Gene's personal belongings as outlined above, and insisted the Sheriff enforce the order.
The Sheriff complied and went to Nancy's home. Nancy, being a lay person, didn't know what to do so she complied. I don't think the Sheriff could have compelled her to surrender the items unless and until there was a formal court order. Jody's paperwork did not constitute a court order, only a claim. Nancy did not know that. Besides, she was too emotionally distraught to analyze things logically and respond accordingly.
Understandably, Nancy was very upset. She would call me from time to time, crying, wondering why Jody was being so cruel.
I could not answer her.
Today, after returning from a weekend reunion with some of my high school classmates from Omaha, I received a call from Nancy, wondering if I had heard anything of or about Gene. I had not but agreed to call the Hospice Center where he had been referred to from the ICU wing of the hospital.
It was only then that I was told that Gene had passed last Wednesay at 3:15pm. The nurse expressed surprise that no one from the family had notified me.
Whether Gene has been cremated, per his wishes, or not, I have no idea. I don't really care at this point. He is gone. His ashes, his body, his remains, they are all just remnants of what and who he was.
Evelyn thought I should call Jody and when she answers, say, "You are the scum of the earth!" and hang up. I declined. It would not solve anything. It wouldn't even give me any particular pleasure in saying such a thing, or taking such an action.
I am writing this summary for several reasons. One, several of you have asked about Gene, two, I'm trying to make sense of the whole scenario, three, I'm trying to figure out what I ever did to Jody or her mom, Gene's ex-wife, that would cause such a needless and hostile action.
At this point, I don't have any answers. I'm just kinda numb.
Eugene Lyle Davis, dead, at age 67.
When I was born, my parents named me Lyle Eugene Davis. When Gene was born, four years later, my mom, in a burst of creative energy, named him Eugene Lyle Davis.
Somehow, I managed to forgive my mom for that terrible transgression.
I am saddened not so much by his passing, it was expected, but by the fact that I did not learn of his death until about 2pm yesterday (Sunday), the 23rd of May. Five days after he passed.
For some reason, Jody, his daughter, my niece, had opted to not notify either me, his brother, or his girlfriend of the last four months, with whom he had been living at the time of his heart attack.
Jody and Vicki (the former Vicki Wardrobe of Omaha), his ex-wife, had arrived in Fort Myers, Florida, after having been called by Nancy, Gene's girl friend.
Nancy had heard what she thought was Gene snoring. She jostled him to stop him snoring and rolled him over and immediately saw that he was dead. She called 911, the paramedics responded and rescuscitated Gene . . . but he had been dead for somewhere between eight and 15 minutes. He was transported to hospital and placed in ICU. All subsequent neurological tests showed Gene to have suffered severe hypoxia and that his brain, being deprived of both oxygen and blood for too long, had suffered too much trauma. He also had 100% blockage in his left carotid artery and 40% blockage in the other. If he survived, it would be as little more than a vegetable. At best, he would be in a wheelchair, staring off into space, him being in his own little world, with no ability to communicate or to care for himself.
I spoke with Jody about two or three days later (she had called me at 1:30am California time, 4:30am, Florida time to brief me). I agreed with the neurologist assessment and also agreed with her decision to take Gene off of life support.
She did not need my approval. She had had Gene sign a Living Will, Medical Directive, DNR, Power of Attorney, all kinds of documents. He had suffered two mild strokes several weeks prior to his massive heart attack and Jody had flown into Orlando from Oakland, Iowa, where she is a practicing veterinarian, met Gene, and took steps to ensure she'd have the legal documentation to control things.
It worked.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Jody and Vicki immediately, and bluntly, advised Nancy that she was not family and was not welcome. She was told to leave the hospital and she would not be allowed to return.
A day or two later, they contacted Nancy and advised her she could see Gene again, but only if she returned Gene's wallet, car keys, checking accounts, jewelry, several computers, etc.
Nancy, understandably, declined to submit to what amounted to blackmail.
In the meantime, Jody had given instructions to the nurses and hospital that no information was to be given out to anybody by anybody but her. That included other family members . . . of which there was only one. Me.
Following the early morning briefing from Jody, and my agreement that removing life support was appropriate, I never heard from Jody again.
Jody, however, was not yet done. She called the Lee County Sheriff's department, filed affidavits and a demand that the Sheriff retrieve Gene's personal belongings as outlined above, and insisted the Sheriff enforce the order.
The Sheriff complied and went to Nancy's home. Nancy, being a lay person, didn't know what to do so she complied. I don't think the Sheriff could have compelled her to surrender the items unless and until there was a formal court order. Jody's paperwork did not constitute a court order, only a claim. Nancy did not know that. Besides, she was too emotionally distraught to analyze things logically and respond accordingly.
Understandably, Nancy was very upset. She would call me from time to time, crying, wondering why Jody was being so cruel.
I could not answer her.
Today, after returning from a weekend reunion with some of my high school classmates from Omaha, I received a call from Nancy, wondering if I had heard anything of or about Gene. I had not but agreed to call the Hospice Center where he had been referred to from the ICU wing of the hospital.
It was only then that I was told that Gene had passed last Wednesay at 3:15pm. The nurse expressed surprise that no one from the family had notified me.
Whether Gene has been cremated, per his wishes, or not, I have no idea. I don't really care at this point. He is gone. His ashes, his body, his remains, they are all just remnants of what and who he was.
Evelyn thought I should call Jody and when she answers, say, "You are the scum of the earth!" and hang up. I declined. It would not solve anything. It wouldn't even give me any particular pleasure in saying such a thing, or taking such an action.
I am writing this summary for several reasons. One, several of you have asked about Gene, two, I'm trying to make sense of the whole scenario, three, I'm trying to figure out what I ever did to Jody or her mom, Gene's ex-wife, that would cause such a needless and hostile action.
At this point, I don't have any answers. I'm just kinda numb.
Eugene Lyle Davis, dead, at age 67.
Friday, May 14, 2010
You gotta see this to believe it. Watch the video.
35 TERRORIST TRAINING CAMPS IN THE US ARE VIDEO TAPED.
OWNED AND ASSOC WITH THE PAKISTANI WHO LURED THE NEW YORK JOURNALIST FOR
BEHEADING.
WATCH THIS...OUR GOVT CAN NOT DO ANYTHING BECAUSE THEY HAVE NOT ATTACKED US
YET.
THE LAW PROTECTS THEM, AND THEY LAUGH AT US.
Keep those guns handy... May need them sooner rather than later.
http://shock.military.com/Shock/videos.do?displayContent=185279&page=1
35 TERRORIST TRAINING CAMPS IN THE US ARE VIDEO TAPED.
OWNED AND ASSOC WITH THE PAKISTANI WHO LURED THE NEW YORK JOURNALIST FOR
BEHEADING.
WATCH THIS...OUR GOVT CAN NOT DO ANYTHING BECAUSE THEY HAVE NOT ATTACKED US
YET.
THE LAW PROTECTS THEM, AND THEY LAUGH AT US.
Keep those guns handy... May need them sooner rather than later.
http://shock.military.com/Shock/videos.do?displayContent=185279&page=1
Very few things shock us anymore . . .
There's a video posted on the link below of a speaker addressing Jewish and Muslim students at UC - San Diego. Just watch it till the end and see if you're shocked. Equally of interest are the comments which appear below the video.
http://www.cross-currents.com/archives/2010/05/12/very-few-things-shock-us-anymore/
http://www.cross-currents.com/archives/2010/05/12/very-few-things-shock-us-anymore/
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
A Tribute to Ernie Harwell . . .
Mark Rothman pens a lovely tribute to the late, great baseball broadcaster, Ernie Harwell:
A Beautiful Day For A Ballgame.
From Ernie Harwell,
Thursday, May 6th, 2010.
Yes fans, it's an absolutely beautiful day out here at Comerica Park, and there are a whole lot of fans here to be part of it.
I wish I was around to see it.
Well, maybe I am.
It depends on what you believe.
The Detroit Tigers are playing the Cleveland Indians in the opening of a three game series.
But not here.
And not until tomorrow.
In Cleveland.
The fans here today are here to see me.
I'm lying in state, right here at the main entrance, and I'll be here all day and night, until the last fan leaves.
I didn't want any public memorials.
The Tigers' owners have honored my wishes, and months ago, we agreed on this public viewing, and I'm honored to receive it.
I insisted that there would be free parking for all who came, and that cold water and hot coffee be offered to those in line.
The lines are very very long.
Thousands and thousands of people.
You know, I should have specified what kind of piped-in music would be played.
This stuff is quite maudlin, serious, and depressing.
A bit dirgelike.
I think I would have preferred "Take Me Out To The Ballgame".
Even if it was played in this tempo.
In the middle of the line, I see Mark Rothman.
I really didn't expect to see him.
He almost never leaves the house.
And he hates standing in lines.
He must have really liked me.
I met and spoke with him several times.
He told me how he grew up in New York, and how Vin Scully was his God of sportscasting.
And how he spent about ten years in Detroit listening to me, and that I was at least as good.
I think he meant it as a complement.
At least that's how I took it.
But then, I seem to be known for my graciousness.
There sure are a lot of youngsters here.
Each with their mothers or fathers,or both.
These kids certainly never heard me call a game.
They're too young.
They probably have no idea why they're here.
I can hear fathers telling their children "Just be glad you're here. Eventually, it will be a moment you'll never forget."
That's certainly nice to hear.
Rothman is getting closer. He just accepted a cup of cold water from one of the attendants.
He's wearing a Tigers cap.
It looks pretty good on him.
He's also wearing a Tigers T-Shirt.
It's hanging very loose on him.
That makes sense.
Since the last time I saw him, he's lost a lot of weight.
He looks very good.
He has the kind of physique that would look particularly good in a Tigers home uniform.
We could sure use his bat in the lineup.
Too bad he can't field.
He's good-hit, no glove.
I guess he can always be a DH.
Except that he's so slow.
If he hit a home run, it would take him a month to get around the bases.
Here he comes.....right near the casket.
He's holding up the cup of water.
He's toasting me with it.
A tear is falling from his left eye.
Figures.
He's a lefty.
Bats left, throws left......cries left.
He's waving good-bye to me.
Good-bye, Mark.
--------------------
From Rothman:
Good-bye Ernie.
It was an honor to have met you, talked to you, and be at Comerica to see you last Thursday.
It has been a great reason to be in Detroit.
A Beautiful Day For A Ballgame.
From Ernie Harwell,
Thursday, May 6th, 2010.
Yes fans, it's an absolutely beautiful day out here at Comerica Park, and there are a whole lot of fans here to be part of it.
I wish I was around to see it.
Well, maybe I am.
It depends on what you believe.
The Detroit Tigers are playing the Cleveland Indians in the opening of a three game series.
But not here.
And not until tomorrow.
In Cleveland.
The fans here today are here to see me.
I'm lying in state, right here at the main entrance, and I'll be here all day and night, until the last fan leaves.
I didn't want any public memorials.
The Tigers' owners have honored my wishes, and months ago, we agreed on this public viewing, and I'm honored to receive it.
I insisted that there would be free parking for all who came, and that cold water and hot coffee be offered to those in line.
The lines are very very long.
Thousands and thousands of people.
You know, I should have specified what kind of piped-in music would be played.
This stuff is quite maudlin, serious, and depressing.
A bit dirgelike.
I think I would have preferred "Take Me Out To The Ballgame".
Even if it was played in this tempo.
In the middle of the line, I see Mark Rothman.
I really didn't expect to see him.
He almost never leaves the house.
And he hates standing in lines.
He must have really liked me.
I met and spoke with him several times.
He told me how he grew up in New York, and how Vin Scully was his God of sportscasting.
And how he spent about ten years in Detroit listening to me, and that I was at least as good.
I think he meant it as a complement.
At least that's how I took it.
But then, I seem to be known for my graciousness.
There sure are a lot of youngsters here.
Each with their mothers or fathers,or both.
These kids certainly never heard me call a game.
They're too young.
They probably have no idea why they're here.
I can hear fathers telling their children "Just be glad you're here. Eventually, it will be a moment you'll never forget."
That's certainly nice to hear.
Rothman is getting closer. He just accepted a cup of cold water from one of the attendants.
He's wearing a Tigers cap.
It looks pretty good on him.
He's also wearing a Tigers T-Shirt.
It's hanging very loose on him.
That makes sense.
Since the last time I saw him, he's lost a lot of weight.
He looks very good.
He has the kind of physique that would look particularly good in a Tigers home uniform.
We could sure use his bat in the lineup.
Too bad he can't field.
He's good-hit, no glove.
I guess he can always be a DH.
Except that he's so slow.
If he hit a home run, it would take him a month to get around the bases.
Here he comes.....right near the casket.
He's holding up the cup of water.
He's toasting me with it.
A tear is falling from his left eye.
Figures.
He's a lefty.
Bats left, throws left......cries left.
He's waving good-bye to me.
Good-bye, Mark.
--------------------
From Rothman:
Good-bye Ernie.
It was an honor to have met you, talked to you, and be at Comerica to see you last Thursday.
It has been a great reason to be in Detroit.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
A Warning to Americans . . .
We'd better wake up, America!
Australia is getting the message. Why is it taking us so long to wise up?
Australia is getting the message. Why is it taking us so long to wise up?
Friday, May 7, 2010
OK . . . I say up front that I liked Lawrence Welk, the man. He really was a very nice, humble, caring man.
We have a time share at his Escondido Resort; we dine there from time to time, and we attend the Welk Theatre for their various presentations.
All that having been said, I most assuredly do NOT like whoever dressed the set or the actors/singers/dancers.
A singer dressed to sing a country song would have the most god-awful cowboy getup you could imagine. He just looked like a dork. He was maybe a pretty good singer . . . but he looked so much like a dork that I would switch to another channel (if I watched the show at all, which I seldom did).
Now . . . take these two dancers. Clearly, they are skilled dancers. The choreography is very nice. But their costumes? C'mon! Whoever dressed like that if they want to dance "funky?"
Ima gonna prove my pointa . . . a-one ana two and click ona the linka. It'll be wunnerful, wunnerful:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DKw-xV_IN_I&feature=player_embedded
We have a time share at his Escondido Resort; we dine there from time to time, and we attend the Welk Theatre for their various presentations.
All that having been said, I most assuredly do NOT like whoever dressed the set or the actors/singers/dancers.
A singer dressed to sing a country song would have the most god-awful cowboy getup you could imagine. He just looked like a dork. He was maybe a pretty good singer . . . but he looked so much like a dork that I would switch to another channel (if I watched the show at all, which I seldom did).
Now . . . take these two dancers. Clearly, they are skilled dancers. The choreography is very nice. But their costumes? C'mon! Whoever dressed like that if they want to dance "funky?"
Ima gonna prove my pointa . . . a-one ana two and click ona the linka. It'll be wunnerful, wunnerful:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DKw-xV_IN_I&feature=player_embedded
This is an interesting engineering concept the can revolutionize the rail industry….
See attached video clip but read description below first.
AMAZING : Chinese Concept - The train that never stops at a station:
A brilliant new Chinese train innovation - get on & off the bullet train without the train stopping. VERY COOL CONCEPT!
No time is wasted. The bullet train is moving all the time. If there are 30 stations between Beijing and Guangzhou , just stopping and accelerating again at each station will waste both energy and time.
A mere 5 min stop per station (elderly passengers cannot be hurried) will result in a total loss of 5 min x 30 stations or 2.5 hours of train journey time!
How it works (view the movie - in mandarin though!):
1. For those who are boarding the train: The passengers at a station embark onto a connector cabin before the train even arrives at the station. When the train arrives, it will not stop at all. It just slows down to pick up the connector cabin which will move with the train on the roof of the train.
While the train is still moving away from the station, those passengers will board the train from the connector cabin mounted on the train's roof. After fully unloading all its passengers, the cabin connector cabin will be moved to the back of the train so that the next batch of outgoing passengers who want to alight at the next station will board the connector cabin at the rear of the train roof.
2. For those who are getting off: As stated after fully unloading all its passengers, the connector cabin will be moved to the back of the train so that the next batch of outgoing passengers who want to alight at the next station will board the connector cabin at the rear of the train roof. When the train arrives at the next station, it will simply drop the whole connector cabin at the station itself and leave it behind at the station. The outgoing passengers can take their own time to disembark at the station while the train has already left. At the same time, the train will pick up the incoming embarking passengers on another connector cabin in the front part of the train's roof. So the train will always drop one connector cabin at the rear of its roof and pick up a new connector cabin in the front part of the train's roof at each station.
See attached video clip but read description below first.
AMAZING : Chinese Concept - The train that never stops at a station:
A brilliant new Chinese train innovation - get on & off the bullet train without the train stopping. VERY COOL CONCEPT!
No time is wasted. The bullet train is moving all the time. If there are 30 stations between Beijing and Guangzhou , just stopping and accelerating again at each station will waste both energy and time.
A mere 5 min stop per station (elderly passengers cannot be hurried) will result in a total loss of 5 min x 30 stations or 2.5 hours of train journey time!
How it works (view the movie - in mandarin though!):
1. For those who are boarding the train: The passengers at a station embark onto a connector cabin before the train even arrives at the station. When the train arrives, it will not stop at all. It just slows down to pick up the connector cabin which will move with the train on the roof of the train.
While the train is still moving away from the station, those passengers will board the train from the connector cabin mounted on the train's roof. After fully unloading all its passengers, the cabin connector cabin will be moved to the back of the train so that the next batch of outgoing passengers who want to alight at the next station will board the connector cabin at the rear of the train roof.
2. For those who are getting off: As stated after fully unloading all its passengers, the connector cabin will be moved to the back of the train so that the next batch of outgoing passengers who want to alight at the next station will board the connector cabin at the rear of the train roof. When the train arrives at the next station, it will simply drop the whole connector cabin at the station itself and leave it behind at the station. The outgoing passengers can take their own time to disembark at the station while the train has already left. At the same time, the train will pick up the incoming embarking passengers on another connector cabin in the front part of the train's roof. So the train will always drop one connector cabin at the rear of its roof and pick up a new connector cabin in the front part of the train's roof at each station.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
A comedy . . . of sorts . . . maybe a tragedy
This is purportedly an acutal letter to the Passport Office. I'm not sure if this is an actual letter or an apocryphal letter that addresses a problem. In any event, it makes for some amusing reading:
Dear Sirs,
I'm in the process of renewing my passport, and still cannot believe
this. How is it that Radio Shack has my address and telephone number
and knows that I bought a cable t.v. from them back in 1987, and yet,
the Federal Government is still asking me where I was born and on what
date..
For Christ sakes, do you guys do this by hand? My birth date you have
on my social security card, and it is on all the income tax forms I've
filed for the past 30 years. It is on my health insurance card, my
driver's license, on the last eight damn passports I've had, on all
those stupid customs declaration forms I've had to fill out before
being allowed off the plane over the last 30 years, and all those
insufferable census forms that are done at election times.
Would somebody please take note, once and for all, that my mother's
name is Maryanne, my father's name is Robert and I'd be absolutely
astounded if that ever changed between now and when I die!
I apologize, I'm really pissed off this morning. Between you an' me,
I've had enough of this bullshit! You send the application to my
house, then you ask me for my address.
What is going on? Do you have a gang of Neanderthal asses working there!
Look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I don't want to
dig up Yasser Arafat, I just want to go and park my ass on a sandy
beach.
And would someone please tell me, why would you care whether I plan on
visiting a farm in the next 15 days? If I ever got the urge to do
something weird to a chicken or a goat, believe you me, I'd sure as
hell not want to tell anyone!
Well, I have to go now, 'cause I have to go to the other end of the
city and get another copy of my birth certificate, to the tune of
$60. Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same
spot to assist in the issuance of a new passport the same day?
Nooooo, that'd be too damn easy and maybe make sense. You'd rather
have us running all over the place like chickens with our heads cut
off, then find some idiot to confirm that it's really me on the damn
picture - you know,the one where we're not allowed to smile?!
(bureaucratic morons) Hey, you know why we can't smile? We're
totally pissed off!
Signed - An Irate Citizen.
P.S.. Remember what I said above about the picture and getting someone
to confirm that it's me? Well, my family has been in this country
since 1776 ........I have served in the military for something over 30
years and have had security clearances up the yingyang..........However, I have to get someone 'important' to verify who I am - you know, someone like my doctor WHO WAS BORN AND RAISED IN INDIA !
Sincerely,
You Sure In The Hell Should Know Who I Am.
.......And you want them to run our health care?
Dear Sirs,
I'm in the process of renewing my passport, and still cannot believe
this. How is it that Radio Shack has my address and telephone number
and knows that I bought a cable t.v. from them back in 1987, and yet,
the Federal Government is still asking me where I was born and on what
date..
For Christ sakes, do you guys do this by hand? My birth date you have
on my social security card, and it is on all the income tax forms I've
filed for the past 30 years. It is on my health insurance card, my
driver's license, on the last eight damn passports I've had, on all
those stupid customs declaration forms I've had to fill out before
being allowed off the plane over the last 30 years, and all those
insufferable census forms that are done at election times.
Would somebody please take note, once and for all, that my mother's
name is Maryanne, my father's name is Robert and I'd be absolutely
astounded if that ever changed between now and when I die!
I apologize, I'm really pissed off this morning. Between you an' me,
I've had enough of this bullshit! You send the application to my
house, then you ask me for my address.
What is going on? Do you have a gang of Neanderthal asses working there!
Look at my damn picture. Do I look like Bin Laden? I don't want to
dig up Yasser Arafat, I just want to go and park my ass on a sandy
beach.
And would someone please tell me, why would you care whether I plan on
visiting a farm in the next 15 days? If I ever got the urge to do
something weird to a chicken or a goat, believe you me, I'd sure as
hell not want to tell anyone!
Well, I have to go now, 'cause I have to go to the other end of the
city and get another copy of my birth certificate, to the tune of
$60. Would it be so complicated to have all the services in the same
spot to assist in the issuance of a new passport the same day?
Nooooo, that'd be too damn easy and maybe make sense. You'd rather
have us running all over the place like chickens with our heads cut
off, then find some idiot to confirm that it's really me on the damn
picture - you know,the one where we're not allowed to smile?!
(bureaucratic morons) Hey, you know why we can't smile? We're
totally pissed off!
Signed - An Irate Citizen.
P.S.. Remember what I said above about the picture and getting someone
to confirm that it's me? Well, my family has been in this country
since 1776 ........I have served in the military for something over 30
years and have had security clearances up the yingyang..........However, I have to get someone 'important' to verify who I am - you know, someone like my doctor WHO WAS BORN AND RAISED IN INDIA !
Sincerely,
You Sure In The Hell Should Know Who I Am.
.......And you want them to run our health care?
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Southern Livin'
I went fishing this morning but after a short time I ran out of worms.
Then I saw a cottonmouth with a frog in his mouth. Frogs are good bass bait.
Knowing the snake couldn't bite me with the frog in his mouth, I grabbed him right behind the head, took the frog, and put it in my bait bucket.
Now the dilemma was how to release the snake without getting bit. So I grabbed my bottle of Jack Daniels and poured a little whiskey in its mouth.
His eyes rolled backand he went limp. I released him into the lake without incident and carried on fishing using the frog.
A little later, I felt a nudge on my foot. There was that same snake with two frogs in his mouth.
Life is good in the South.
Then I saw a cottonmouth with a frog in his mouth. Frogs are good bass bait.
Knowing the snake couldn't bite me with the frog in his mouth, I grabbed him right behind the head, took the frog, and put it in my bait bucket.
Now the dilemma was how to release the snake without getting bit. So I grabbed my bottle of Jack Daniels and poured a little whiskey in its mouth.
His eyes rolled backand he went limp. I released him into the lake without incident and carried on fishing using the frog.
A little later, I felt a nudge on my foot. There was that same snake with two frogs in his mouth.
Life is good in the South.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Prayers Ansered . . .
The pastor asked if anyone in the congregation would like to express Praise for answered prayers.
A lady stood and walked to the podium. She said, "I have a Praise."
Two months ago, my husband, Tom,had a terrible bicycle wreck and his scrotum was completely crushed.
The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn't know if they could help him."
You could hear a muffled gasp from the men in the congregation as they imagined the pain that poor Tom must have experienced.
"Tom was unable to hold me or the children," she went on,"and every move caused him terrible pain. We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate operation,
and it turned out they were able to piece together the crushed remnants of Tom's scrotum,and wrap wire around it to hold it in place."
Again, the men in the congregation were unnerved and squirmed uncomfortably as they imagined the horrible surgery performed on Tom.
"Now," she announced in a quavering voice, "thank the Lord, Tom is out of the hospital and the doctors say that with time,his scrotum should recover completely."
All the men sighed with relief.
The pastor rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had something to say.
A man stood up and walked slowly to the podium. He said, "I'm Tom."
The entire congregation held its breath. "I just want to tell my wife that the word is sternum."
Note:Sternum is the breastbone in your chest that is wired back together after
open heart surgery,
=
A lady stood and walked to the podium. She said, "I have a Praise."
Two months ago, my husband, Tom,had a terrible bicycle wreck and his scrotum was completely crushed.
The pain was excruciating and the doctors didn't know if they could help him."
You could hear a muffled gasp from the men in the congregation as they imagined the pain that poor Tom must have experienced.
"Tom was unable to hold me or the children," she went on,"and every move caused him terrible pain. We prayed as the doctors performed a delicate operation,
and it turned out they were able to piece together the crushed remnants of Tom's scrotum,and wrap wire around it to hold it in place."
Again, the men in the congregation were unnerved and squirmed uncomfortably as they imagined the horrible surgery performed on Tom.
"Now," she announced in a quavering voice, "thank the Lord, Tom is out of the hospital and the doctors say that with time,his scrotum should recover completely."
All the men sighed with relief.
The pastor rose and tentatively asked if anyone else had something to say.
A man stood up and walked slowly to the podium. He said, "I'm Tom."
The entire congregation held its breath. "I just want to tell my wife that the word is sternum."
Note:Sternum is the breastbone in your chest that is wired back together after
open heart surgery,
=
Monday, May 3, 2010
Where to buy the Bra Replacement?
To those who pose the question . . . where can I buy the bra replacement (with cellophane tape)? I have no clue. It was just something I forwarded.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
You may have seen this video already but just in case...
It's the group OK Go with their incredible Rube Goldberg concoction. It is claimed the video was shot in one single take with no editing or camera/computer magic. I'm not sure anyone believes that but, hey, it's amazing even if there was trickery.
Take a look. And you might want to go full screen on this one...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qybUFnY7Y8w&feature=player_embedded
It's the group OK Go with their incredible Rube Goldberg concoction. It is claimed the video was shot in one single take with no editing or camera/computer magic. I'm not sure anyone believes that but, hey, it's amazing even if there was trickery.
Take a look. And you might want to go full screen on this one...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qybUFnY7Y8w&feature=player_embedded
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