So when you are on camera don't look straight at the camera and point your thumb out and bite your lip, Bill has played that out. Try this instead, shift your whole body to the left and cock your head at the camera just like dogs do when you are talking shit to them. And you need to put the stupidest expression on your face possible.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Ok Susan, here are your talking points for the 5 Sunday morning news shows. It was not a terrorist attack, it was all YouTubes fault. No we can't put this one on Bush so we have to go with the YouTube sham. Now remember your body language is very important when you're trying to get America to believe a lie. My decades being married to Bill have taught me a lot about how to be an effective liar, that and being a crooked lawyer at the Rose Law firm.
Monday, April 28, 2014
I assumed it was the eyelash because unlike most foreign objects that invade the delicate world of human optics, the eyebrows seems to always get stuck on the eyelid not the eyeball, making it a pain in the ass to evict.
It started out being a minor nuisance at 3:00 AM, by 6:00 AM it was a full-fledged nightmare of non-emotional tears. This was not the first time I suffered an eye attack in the middle of the night.
And it sure as hell was not the worst.
I may have been 18 or so and still living with he folks, about 3:00 AM I awoke to feeling of being sandblasted in both eyes with shards of hot glass soaked in battery acid followed by a clawing frenzy by a heard of ill tempered rabid kitties. It hurt.
It hurt to have my eyelids touching my eyeballs, it hurt even worse to open my eyes and expose them to the air. I was effectively blind. I got out of bed and was seeking aid while bumping into walls and tripping over unknown objects. "Mommy Daddy help me!" I finally made enough ruckus and woke up my parents. I had no clue what was causing this incredible pain, dad started quizzing me about what sort of work I had done on the job that day. I worked at Arvin's muffler factory in the evening shift at the time. That night I had been shifted from my usual line and was running an auto welder, this required mounting a muffler assembly on a machine and stepping on a pedal that mig welded both ends at once. The eye protection was not a regular welders mask, it was a green tinted face shield. Of course you are not supposed to look at the contraption when it welds but if you've ever working on a factory line you know how mind numbing line work is and sometimes you get out of sequence. That how people chop off fingers and such.
As I told dad I had been running this welder he said something like, "you dumbass kid, you got welders-flash." It's like a severe sunburn of the eyes.
Between dad's home remedies and generous amounts of whatever prescription drugs they had on hand I got through that agonizing night.
He next morning my bloodshot eyes looked like Teddy Kennedy did the morning after he drowned the women he was trying to screw then left the scene of the crime so he could sober up and pay off the cops with his dads ill-gotten gains from bootlegging and stock manipulation. Whew! I had to get that out.
Anyway fast-forward to last night, after several attempts to expel this eyelash from hell I gave up on sleeping and sat up in the living room and tried to old pulling the top eyelid down over the bottom eyelid in hopes of scraping the lash off. I had tried this method for the last three hours to no avail but his time the lash finally gave in and like magic it was gone!
As I settled in the chair with a cup of coffee and my Ipad, I picked up my spectacles and as I raised them to my face i saw on the inside of the right lense another eyelash!
What the hell? Was this some sort of lash conspriacy? Was my eyelash going bald? Or did the rogue mutant eyelash from hell make its way to my glasses to wreak havoc once more?
What ever the case, you can be sure I will be sleeping with one eye open tonight.
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Repost, Happy Veterens Day, special thanks to our Nam vets!
That's when I saw it, I had looked at that wheel many times but had never noticed the words "Made in Vietnam" on the tire, I was pissed! Every since John McCain and others decided to make nice with the commies more and more stuff from Vietnam had made its way over here.
If I would have had the receipt I would have returned the damned thing. As with most wheelbarrow tires it had a slow leak so whenever I wanted to use it after that day I would have to make the trip down my own little Ho Chi Minh Trail to the barn to air it up. That damned phrase now unavoidable to see, would piss me off every time. Since the embargo was lifted I made every effort not to purchase anything manufactured there, so how did this slip by me?
The wheelbarrow was manufactured in some other shit hole country, but the tire was made in Nam. No, I didn't serve in Vietnam, the closest I have ever been to a firefight was shooting M16 blanks in war games at Camp Atterbury.
I did learn how to take the brass from a spent M16 blank and jam the tip in the end of the barrel and fire it downrange into the trees to convince your opposition that they were being fired on with live rounds. This is most effective in the dark when being attacked by the aggressors. We were bunked down in our tents one night when the enemy attacked our position. We all started returning fire with our blanks, me with my brass flinging weapon. After shooting brass into the trees above our "enemy" for a while I decided to try some friendly fire on a buddy's tent down our defensive line. It was illuminated with the occasional flare so I took a bead on his tent and nearby trees and peppered the hell out of it.
I took a cease fire after awhile and in a bit I heard a noise over the now sporadic gunfire. It was my buddy whose tent I had been flinging brass at, he was hugging the ground, low crawling up to my position. "Man some son of a bitch is shootin live rounds at me!", he said. "No shit? Better keep your head down" I said with the dark of night masking my huge grin. I must confess the idea for the brass flinger was not my own. I got paired up to tent with a guy who was back from Nam finishing up his active duty time in the Reserve. Each soldier had in his field gear half a pup tent, about a quarter of the guys still had the shelter halves that buttoned together and all the rest had the newer snaps so I had to match up with another guy with buttons that's how I came to be paired up with this guy.
He also suggested that instead of buttoning our shelter halves together, we lay one shelter half on the ground and the other one was made into a lean-to facing the perimeter. This little trick made it so we didn't have to get out of our sleeping bags when the fake shit hit the fan. All we had to do was sit up in our sleeping bags and fire away at the supposed enemy.
He had learned a thing or two from Charlie don't you know.
Although I didn't serve in Vietnam I knew a lot of guys that did and most of the D.I.'s in Basic Training were fresh back from Country. In high school we had thoughts about ending up in Nam then Nixon started the whole "Peace with honor" thing and it became apparent we had literally dodged the bullet. But I had retained a general hatred for that country especially after the North broke that bullshit "cease fire in place" deal. When the U.S. dropped the embargo against Vietnam I was pissed. I was shocked John McCain was in favor of it after the hell he suffered at the hands of Jane Fonda and the Hanoi Hilton. It took a long time to bury the hate for that reunified by murder country. Over the years I thought about all the "what ifs" when thinking about the 58,000 plus guys we lost over there. Mostly I wondered if our involvement would even have happened if France hadn't hung onto their colony and let those people determine their own fate. Maybe that asshole Ho Chi Minh wouldn't have gotten the support he needed to start that war.
Things turn out the way they turn out and fate has some interesting twists and turns. During the fall of South Vietnam a young Vietnamese man who had fought in the Navy for the South escaped with his wife and baby and became refugees eventually coming to America. They came with nothing but the drive to work hard and they built a successful business. Later they had another son who would graduate from Purdue University with degrees in Molecular Biology and in Chemistry.
That young man would marry my daughter. Together they used some of that Molecular Biology and Chemistry and made a grandson for me.
A while back I stopped thinking about all the "what ifs" and focus now on the what is. My grandson is now a year old, I can't imagine not having him around. I can't imagine him looking any differently than he does, he is beautiful.
Although some think he has some features from our side of the family like my "butt chin", he sure looks like he was made in Vietnam.
And that's just fine by me.
Monday, April 21, 2014
She really gave the old guy a funny look followed by a helpful but somewhat confused smile. The old guy smiled back while it slowly became clear to him the comunication problem was not a lack of intelligence by the "associate" of the sporting goods store, it was just a "senior moment" on his part.
The conversation that began this inquiry went like this, "excuse me, can you tell me if this store carries the old style percolator coffee pots?".
"I don't know what that is". "Well it's the type of coffee pots people used before the Mister Coffee drip coffee maker was invented".
She looked at me like I had aliens crawling out of my butt. The more detail I went into about watching the coffee brew as the water turned darker and darker in the little sight glass on top, the more she turned her head with a quizzical look like dogs give you when you're talking shit to them.
It would have been frustrating if it hadn't been so damn funny. I was sure they would carry them, after all, campers still used them. I wanted one for the fishing shack so I could stop using those expensive coffee singles and I don't care for instant.
She finally called Rick on the radio, Rick was a little closer to my age group, although he grew up after the Mister Coffee made its debut he knew about the old perkers and gave her the location so we walked right to the same area I had scoured moments before and they magically appeared.
They had a nice selection of them, all non-electrics of course. As we stood there I waxed nostalgic on the "good ol days" of the world of yesteryear. God, when did I turn into that guy? The days of yore, when if you had a cell, it meant your ass was behind bars, back before "the bomb" was a way to describe something cool, it was something that Nikita Khrushchev wanted to drop on you so he could laugh his ass off while you duck and cover. The closest we came to lasers and computers was watching science fiction movies and the internet existed only in Al Gores head.
I could just see in my minds dimming eye, mom busy getting breakfast going on a cold dark winter morning. On the counter would be the coffee pot plugged in and perking along making that sound that we all remember if our hair is gray or gone. I remembered that commercial, I knew it would be on YouTube. You old timers will know this commercial, that song that Maxwell Coffee makes when it perks. Go ahead and Youtube it, you know you want to hear it again.
AMC's Mad Men has begun its final season, this show is great and it's fun seeing life in the 60's recreated so accurately. At least in my mind and memory.
Life was simple back then and good to the last drop.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
Going through mini yo yo's on my weight and big yo yo's in my retirement account. I obsessively monitor both. I have a good handle on the former. I have little to no control on the latter, (did I get that right)?
I feel really fantastic health wise except for occasional knee issues, oh yeah and the drinking problem. By drinking problem I'm referring to the cervical spinal fusion on two levels of my neck that inhibit me from tipping up the can of beer to get that last drink. I really have to lean back and get my whole body into it to get that can cleaned out. I wouldn't want to be wasteful.
I started to get in shape a year and a half ago. Walking many miles and working out regularly. I have lost between 50 and 55 pounds and kept it off for the better part of a year. I had to drop 2 of my blood pressure meds because losing the weight made vascular system so happy.
I saw my Cardioligist this week. I love seeing this guy smile, when I first met him he didn't smile at me at all. I thought someone had just pissed in his corn flakes or something but it was me. It was 3 or 4 years ago and I was about to be hospitalized to be cardioverted out of Afib for the first time of my Afib career. He was also not smiling at me back then because of my lack of energy, getting winded after a short walks and high blood pressure even though I was on several meds and being stuck in Afib for days.
Although I may feel 20 years younger now, I have to remind myself that I don't look 20 years younger. It helps me keep things in perspective. I'm not out chasing after 30 year olds, or even 40 year olds. I'm happy staying in my own age group, they're slower, it's easier to cut them from the heard.
I understand maintaining the weight and keeping fit will be an ongoing battle for the rest of my life.
I also understand that just because I feel great, that is no guarantee of longevity. Pistol Pete Marivitch always comes to mind when I'm feeling euphoric. But I figure as long as I keep this guy smiling I'm doing the best I can.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
I'm glad we walked to this place instead of taking the Metro. At first it was just a matter of expediency that saw us walking across the Potomac. The Potomac, I can't say that word or hear that word without remembering the Apocryphal tale about young George Washington throwing a silver dollar across the Potomac River.
Seems like I was taught this in school at a very young age. Back in the early 60's when I first heard this, a dollar was big money. Back in the 1700's when Washington supposedly did this, a dollar was a fortune!
Today you can't even buy a Hershey Bar with a buck. The current president throws trillions of dollars into the river and he doesn't bat an eye.
But I digress, anyway the Potomac is a wide river, you would have to have an arm like Randy Johnson to make that shot.
We made it to the Arlington Visitors Center to wait for Renee and while milling around I came to a large black and white photograph of the Arlington Memorial Bridge that we just walked across. In the photo there were thousands and thousands of people lining the way as a horse drawn caisson carried the body of 46 year old John Kennedy the 35th President of the United States.
"Ask not what your Country can do for you, ask what you can do for your Country", you sure this guy was a Democrat?
Anyway there is history every place you walk, stand, or look around here.
Renee finally arrives and we take off. There is much ground to cover and lots of things we want to see. Of course, The Changing Of The Guard at The Tomb Of The Unknown Soldier, is top of the list and if we hustle we can just make the next one. We get there right as it begins. Standing on the steps high on the hill watching this unfold gave me chills. I doubt that it would give Chris Mathews a thrill up his leg, but it was a very profound moment for me.
After quietly observing this very solemn and honored ceremony we slip off behind the steps and walk along the Amphitheater. There were openings at the back and Renee spotted something and asked me what it was.
I didn't know exactly, but it kind of looked like a mast with a crows nest mounted in a concrete structure.
We decided it warranted a quick look.
I was immensely glad we did. It was a mast, a very old mast from a very old ship.
We walked around the front of the concrete structure and I read the bronze plaque that read "USS Maine". "Remember the Maine!", I said. The rallying cry that moved a nation to war with Spain after the Maine either blew up in the Havana harbor or was blown up by the Spanish in 1898.
I remember reading about the events surrounding this pivotal sinking. I had no idea the mast, anchor and ships bell were salvaged and brought here as a memorial to the 168 souls lost on board that day.
The chills just keep on coming!
I could spend the rest of the rapidly depleting day right here among the memories and the ghosts of The Maine, or walk back to the Tomb of The Unknown Soldier, but Renee eyes our next destination on top of a hill.
Arlington House, the home of Robert E. Lee or at least it used to be. Of course when war between the States broke out Lee was not in a sellers market and he had to walk away from equity.
Again something I did not know, actually, seeing how History class was nap time for me it's not surprising I didn't know General Lee once had a home here.
The Arlington House although a thing of beauty, the view of the porch is what held my gaze the most. And just a few short steps away I could see the enormity and the relative closeness of the Pentagon.
Again I am getting schooled just by looking around. I guess I have always known the approximate location of the Pentagon but now I really know it, I can see it, I can walk to it. It's a shorter hike then what I'm used to. Standing on the hill I could imagine what it looked like on that day of infamy.
As we were looking down at this amazing building where the best military minds in world punch the clock, a couple struck up a conversation with us about it.
They had just been there and saw the 9/11 Memorial that is located on what used to be the parking lot at the side of the building where some murderous cowards crashed American Airlines Flight 77 into the side of The Pentagon.
The couple was persuading us to go see this Memorial, we didn't need any convincing, we were going. We had just one more stop to make here at Arlington. We had to see the JFK Memorial and the Eternal Flame.
Renee and I don't agree much when it comes to politics, but this is one thing we can see eye to eye on.
In a few short minutes we walked downhill to where President Kennedy rests. Again my memory shifts around all the history I'm surrounded by and settles in a third grade classroom some 51 years ago. The intercom crackles and a muffled unintelligible radio broadcast comes through the speaker and into the ears of several confused 3rd graders.
After the announcement, the teacher had to explain to us that the president had just been shot.
I was, we were, too young to understand the immediate impact of this event, much less the historical significance.
Today, this old man can understand some of it, bit not all. It is profound to be this close to the body of JFK and turn around and see the route the funeral procession took to bring his body here.
My memory of those few days goes from hearing that static filled news over the intercom, to the day I was standing in our living room watching a black and white TV showing the coffin of Kennedy laying in State while thousands upon thousands of world leaders, dignitaries and just ordinary peoples shuffled by to pay their respects. I don't know why but I couldn't stop watching it. I just remember while this was going on they were walking Lee Harvey Oswald down some corridor and they kept switching the coverage between the two events. Then I saw on live television Jack Ruby shoot Oswald.
I ran through the house yelling my head off trying to get everyone's attention. I was the only one in the room.
Lots of things happen to a kid, I imagine you forget 99 percent of it, no matter how feeble minded I may be now or will be in the future, I will never forget that black and white event.
As if today day couldn't get anymore poignant, it was time to make the pilgrimage to The Pentagon.
We jumped the Arlington Metro to the Pentagon City (I never heard of Pentagon City), Metro for lunch. After lunch we chose to walk to the Pentagon, I wish we would have gotten a pass to tour the inside of the building but you have to apply way in advance to do that. Understandable. I would have wanted to see this amazing building even if it hadn't been one of the targets of 9/11. It's a name that is synonymous with America's power and strength.
They broke ground for the Pentagon September 11th 1941. It stood impenetrable for 60 years.
The Pentagon Memorial is unlike any I have ever seen and a lot of meaning is built into its layout. There are 184 bench-like structures with a matching water feature under each. Each one with a name of one of the victims inscribed on the end. The ones that have the ends that face away from the building represents the victims who were in the Pentagon. The ones that face the other direction is a memorial of the victims who were aboard Flight 77.
We were there in the daylight. I got this picture off the Internet that was taken at night.
The whole day has been somber to say the least and very sobering. Now I think I could use a drink.
Monday, April 7, 2014
A new day dawns in DC and as usual when I wake up at the Hinkley Hilton I walk to the window pull back the curtain to look at the Washington Monument.
I looked, rubbed my eyes and looked again. It's gone! The whole damn Monument!
Construction accident? Terrorist? David Copperfield?
No, fog. Thank God!
Renee has 1/2 day left of her seminar, me and her son will hit the Smithsonian Museum of American History after that we will go pay our respects at the war memorials, then meet up with Renee at Arlington National Cemetery. Although she lived in DC for five years, she never made it to Arlington.
Back on the Metro at DuPont Station, I'm getting the hang of this now. Get on the Red Line to Metro Center, jump on the Blue Line to the Smithsonian Station, piece of cake.
I really loved the Metro, very clean and efficient.
I very much enjoyed the museum of American History, my favorite displays, Archie Bunker's favorite chair and the huge flag that yet waved that infamous night back in September of 1814.
I had no idea that the actual flag that flew over Fort McHenry during the Battle of Baltimore even existed anymore and it was right here in front of me. I just stood there and stared at it thinking about Francis Scott Key held captive on a British ship in the midst of the War of 1812, staring at this very same flag and writing a poem that would become a song using a melody of lifted from an old English drinking tune called "To Anacreon In Heaven".
That was the start of an emotional day from here it would only get more solemn.
After we left the Smithsonian, we walked around the closed for repairs Washington Monument staring up at it as far as my cobbled together neck would allow.
We walked up to the still new looking WWII Memorial. It was opened in 2004. This is an outstanding tribute to the rapidly disappearing group of men and women that saved the world. It's shocking to think they waited that long to build this monument, but what a monument it is!
From there we went to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. Compared the memorial we just saw, The Wall is very subdued, I remember when it was first built, it had many detractors. Some even saying the plain black granite angled wall "looks like death". Given the 58,249 names engraved on the Wall you could describe it that way.
I have friends and family that served in that war, my friends and family have friends and family whose names are on that wall. It was a little rainy and a lot gloomy as we walked along the Wall, walked among the veterans looking for their family and friends names on the Wall. The volunteers who were veterans themselves helping people locate those names on the Wall.
No this memorial is not ornate and not as large at the WWII Memorial, it does not even compare with the Korean War Memorial which also has a black granite wall.
When I think about the shameful way the returning Vietnam vets were treated by the anti war creeps, I don't think and I believe most vets of that war would agree, I just don't believe a large loud ornate structure would be appropriate.
Most guys came home in civvies so the peace loving leftists wouldn't spit on them and call them baby killers.
This plain black granite wall just seems to fit in the landscape, quietly and unobtrusively, much like the soldiers who came home and just tried to forget it all and quietly blend into the landscape. Some were successful at this, many were not.
Walking in the rain we made our way to the Lincoln Memorial. I have seen this iconic statue sitting there with that thousand mile stare since I was a kid, but not in real life. Abraham Lincoln, the 16th president, the Republican president who freed the slaves at a huge cost of lives including his own.
I spend a long time in there looking up at the huge statue, then I stood beside him looking out in the same direction, straight ahead at the Reflecting Pool and at the Washington Monument.
Old Honest Abe has had plenty of time to ponder. I have just about used up my pondering time so we make one last stop before we plan our trek to Arlington, the Korean War Memorial.
My father served in this war so did his friend, my Uncle Kenny. Dad altered his Birth certificate so he could join the Army at 16.
The memorial is similar to the Vietnam War Memorial only in that it also has a black granite wall. But unlike the other wall it does not have the names of the KIA's or the MIA's. Instead it has ghostly images of soldiers engraved in the stone.
There are several larger than life size statues of soldiers clad in metal ponchos that are on what looks like a large patrol in weather kinda like what it was that day in DC.
Looking at the statues all in different poses carrying M1 Garrands and Carbines I was reminded of on old war story told to me many years ago by an uncle long gone now.
Me and Uncle Kenny were talking while imbibing whiskey and coke.
Mine mixed to half strength, Uncle Kenny's was mixed by me just he way he liked it. Fill a glass with whiskey and add just enough coke to give it a little coke color but no coke flavor.
I've been known to get combat veterans to talk about things not discussed in the light of day or sober. Like I would get my bro in law Bob who is also my buddy many years later to talk about some things that happened in Nam, things that hadn't seen the light of day in a long long time.
Uncle Kenny told me a few stories but the one that brought vivid images to my mind was the way he found out that the Communist Chinese had entered the war on the side of the villainous North Koreans.
It was a very cold November night and he was out with small patrol not expecting much contact with the North Koreans. It was a dark night but suddenly they were confronted with the sight of thousands of Chinese moving around and through their drastically outnumbered patrol. The patrol hadn't been spotted and they had no chance in hell surviving a firefight. So spread out, they all just hunkered down and waited for the hordes of Chinese to pass by. I could just see young Kenny crouched down in the dark, heart pounding so loud he was sure the enemy could here his heartbeat.
Kenny related the story (as best I remember), "we all just crouched down in the trees and waited, seemed like forever, then I saw one of them walking right up toward me. He just kept getting closer and closer. I couldn't shoot him, we all would have been dead, there was just too goddamned many of them. I took out my bayonet and just waited. I knew I was gonna have to cut his fuckin throat. I just squatted down beside that tree, then he just walked by me like I was a ghost". Old Kenny shook his head and stared at the wall like he was back there again in his minds eye. He finished his story, "Mark it musta been 20 below but I had sweat running down my face". We drank a lot that night.
I hadn't thought about that story in a good while. I guess this is an appropriate place to recall something like that.
A short time after that memory of Uncle Kenny came and went. I got a message from Renee, the seminar is winding down. I pull up Google Maps on my phone and start calculating distances. Looks like the nearest Metro is just a little closer than our next destination, in the opposite direction. I ask Renee's son if he's up for a hike, sure lets go!
Walking the historic path from the Lincoln Memorial across the Potomac on the Arlington Memorial Bridge was a fitting tribute and I'm glad we walked it. It was the route taken when the horse-drawn coffin brought JFK to his final resting 41 years ago.
Sunday, April 6, 2014
Having ended the debate of the pro-foreskin/anti-foreskin with the red crotch demonstrators on the Capitol lawn, we walked around the Capitol Building to see the Supreme Court Building. I figured surely there would be a more substantive demonstration there.
Ehhh, not so much. Didn't looked like much happening at all. We got through security and were told the court was in session but for the most part things seemed kinda dead there. So we headed across the street.
We got to the Capitol Building just in time to take the next tour.
I was highly impressed with the architecture of the interior and the abundance of artwork.
The Rotunda was spectacular, much of the artwork especially the murals reminded me of Italy which makes sense due to the fact that Italian artist Constantino Brumidi was commissioned for most of the work done there.
The tour didn't include going into the House or Senate chambers, we were instructed to visit the office of our states Congressmen or Senators to get a pass. We were going to be pushed for time so we had to pass on that. Probably just as well because for years now I have watched those crooked jackasses Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid make complete fools of themselves on TV. I have screamed and cursed and flipped them the bird so many times when they appeared on my TV, I wasn't sure what I would do if I ever saw those dipshits in the real world. And I'm not sure if I had enough bail money with me.
The girlfriend probably would not have taken it so well either.
I have to tell on myself while I'm on the subject of my propensity to blurt out my politics at times. When we first arrived in DC we walked the 2 miles to the White House. Looking across the expanse of beautifully maintained lawn at the structure that has housed our leaders since it was rebuilt due to the war of 1812. I think about men who have called 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue home during that time. Some of the best this country has to offer and some of the worst. I thought about what a buffoon Jimmy Carter was and still is. I thought about what an embarrassment Slick Willie was and still is not to mention his wife. Now the current resident embodies both of those poor qualities plus a couple more.
For the most part I maintained some measure of restraint and civility aside from the rude gesture I made at the building but regretted it almost instantly.
It was when we walked around to the North Lawn I noticed that across the street someone had erected what amounted to a protest booth. There were many signs on the booth but the one that I focused on was a sign that had the Star of David and words condemning Israel. I didn't even notice the person who was at the booth. When we got close to it I muttered possibly loud enough to be heard at the booth "some asshole doesn't care for Jews".
Renee said something to me, I don't remember what, but whatever she said got me to focus not on the sign but on the sign maker.
There she was, this little hunchback old lady, she looked older than Methuselah.
I felt like a jackass, still do. But then again I pretty much feel like that all the time.
I found out later her name is Concepcion Picciotto, she's somewhat famous, at least in the anti-nuke anti-Israel circles. I read on the Internet she has been protesting there for decades. Mostly denouncing the the U.S. for our use of the Atom bomb on Japan and our maintaining a nuclear deterrent. Yeah I know, it's kinda played out, but she probably feels like it beats playing Mahjong with all the other hunchback old ladies,
After Renee's son and I left the Capitol Building we had a little time left before we were supposed to go to another seminar dinner so we walked toward the Washington Monument.
We didn't walk all the way to it, the Monument is still surrounded by scaffold about 1/3 the way up. It is still undergoing repairs it sustained from an earthquake in 2011. I would have loved going up to the top. I watched a YouTube of someone going up to the top and the views were incredible, may have to make another trip.
The Smithsonian Metro station was located close to the center of the National Mall. I sat on a bench close to the Metro station and just took in the experience. Renee and I have talked about the importance of "being in the moment" at special times and places. As many places in the world she has traveled to and lived in she knows a thing or two about that. I have a tendency to let my camera be in the moment because I want to preserve the moment with something more dependable than my addled mind.
So I stopped taking video and stills with my Galaxy S4 and just soaked up the sights and sounds of the National Mall.
The Cherry Blossom trees were still days away from blossoming, there were no Million Man marchers here (there never was), but you could feel the history all around you here.
I never realized the proximity of all these famous landmarks before, everything is right here, within my walking distance.
I used up the remaining minutes of our extra time and it was time to jump on the Metro and meet Renee at the Bistro Bistro. No that wasn't a typo, that's the name of the place where the seminar organizer was having the dinner.
We met up with Renee and made the short walk to the restaurant. Again my manners and protocol would be tested. The food buffet and the alcohol were all included in the price I paid last night which included last nights finger food and booze. It was a very good deal and as per usual I made the most of it.
Luckily a lid was kept on controversy and the conversation was light and interesting and for the most part I held true to the Lincoln/Twain adage "it is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt", at least I think I did.
I should have remembered to do that the day before when at the White House I inadvertently called that little hunchbacked old lady an asshole.
Sometimes I do go ahead and remove all doubt.
Apologies to the little old hunchback anti-Semite.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
We interrupt our regular programming of the digital form of showing your friends your boring vacation slides, that is my series on my recent trip to DC, to bring you this public service announcement.
Due to recent events you are warned that in the event you are driving through Detroit and you are white and you accidentally hit a black kid, DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT STOP!
Even if it is not your fault do not stop, drive to the nearest safe location, which means get the hell out of Detroit then pull over and call the police.
Thank you for your attention, we will now resume our regular programming.
Sorry about your luck.
Sorry about your luck.
Friday, April 4, 2014
Renee off to the seminar and me and Renee's son set off the 1/2 mile walk to the DC Metro terminal at DuPont Circle.
I don't have much experience with hopping subways, the last one I was on was in Rome and I needed the guidance of the experienced travelers I was traveling with and the stiff hand of baby sister to save me from the damn Gypsies.
Down in the Red line tunnel I instantly thought of Frank Underwood shoving Zoe Barnes in front of the approaching subway on the House Of Cards. As I watch the train flying up to the platform I wondered why more people aren't killed on these tracks.
I get some advice and ride the Red line to Metro Center, then jump to the Blue line to L'Enfant Plaza Station; this is the closest stop to the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum.
Air and space, what's not to like there. I love everything to do with air travel, hell I even like airports. I was awed by the sight of the Wright brothers first successful powered airplane the Flyer on display. We took in every display but I stopped a while and let my mind wander just a bit while standing before the mock up of the LEM.
Lunar Excursion Module, the ingenius spacecraft that landed on the moon. I think about a bunch of engineers with cigarettes and slide-rules sitting around trying to figure out how the hell they were going to get astronauts to the moon and back, alive!
Working with the most rudimentary technology they reached a goal that seemed impossible when JFK announced his vision for NASA.
The LEM on display was just a mock up of course, just a few feet away was the only part of that of the 6,200,000 lbs of the Saturn V rocket that returned to Earth, that was the re-entry capsule. And there it was, right here in front of me, the only part of Apollo 11 on Earth!
After taking in and processing all of this, I shook my head at what NASA used to stand for and the empty "social justice" shell it has become under Obama.
Russia is our enemy and we can't even get up to the ISS without scraping and bowing to Putin so we can hitch a ride into space.
NASA, National Aeronautics and Space Administration, that's what the acronym is supposed to represent!
What Charles Bolden who runs the agency now is concerned with "foremost, to improve relations with the Muslim world." Uhh, hmmmm really? Did you read the job description before you took the job? Who was the idiot that hired you? Oh yeah, him! I think he failed to read his job description too.
NASA is also trying to make busy work by promoting the Global Warming (sorry I mean Climate Change) propaganda.
Thinking about all that I instantly went from a great feeling of pride to feeling shame and embarrassment.
What Obama and Bolden have done to NASA is brought total humiliation to the program and the sacrifices made by our courageous astronauts.
Moving along, I had one last section of this museum to explore, The Planets and Our Solar System! Me and Renee's son are walking around this display and I noticed some guy and a young kid, the way he is explaining each display to this kid and the way he was dressed it was like some physicist stepped out of the the old school NASA control room.
I stalked the two for a bit taking in what the guy was saying, the guy was obviously brilliant.
Maybe he could take over NASA.
Moving on from brilliance to bullshit we walk toward the Capital Building.
I had seen on the map that the Supreme Court building was just behind the Capital and I wanted to see both. I remembered the Pro-life people and the Pro abortionists had been demonstrating in front of the Supremes just days before. I wanted to see if they were still there, I just wanted to see a real life Washington DC demonstration.
Before I even got the the Capitol however, I saw what looked like a small demonstration taking place on the Mall side of the Capital Building, cool!
As I closed in on the action, I squinted my aging eyes trying to make out what all the ruckus was about.
What could it be? abortion? Obamacare? Benghazi? IRS scandal? Fast and Furious? NSA?
As I approached I could begin to make out the large letters of a banner, it was a long word, it started with a "C".
Oh I know! Constitution! Sure that's gotta be it, some red blooded Americans are demonstrating in support of the Constitution of The United States!
Lord knows we need it with a self-appointed emperor in the White House.
Wow, that makes me proud to be an American, maybe I can join in this demonstration and help hoist that banner in the air that says "Cir", wait a minute, that's not right.
That's not how you spell Constituuu.... huh? As I got closer I could finally make out the large block letters of "Circumcision", oh no, you gotta be kidding me, these jackasses were here to outlaw circumcision. They weren't here to save the Constitution, they were here to save foreskin!
Some of the women were wearing white pants with red paint on the crotch.
You have got to be kidding me, the world is going to shit and these people are only concerned with passing a law so every guys junk will look like an aardvark snout.
Geez it takes all kinds, I walked up the the first guy who was holding the big CIRCUMCISION sign, I was just shaking my head and chuckling and he waved me closer and we had a cordial and interesting conversation. I told him I thought the whole thing was ridiculous but we talked for a spell and I enjoyed the interaction with the lunatic. I walked a little further and talked to some of the women holding signs. One walked out to me and engaged me one on one. She was very pleasant even when I told her I thought an uncut unit was not a good look. She promptly produced a picture of a side by side comparison of both choices and tried to drag me into answering which one looked the cutest.
I thought about telling her I have seen enough dicks in Washington but discretion being the better part of valor, I moved on.
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
We hit the road at 2:00 AM heading east toward sunrise; I like driving through the early morning darkness and counting the miles and hours.
We set out in the cold and I reset the Trip A on the odometer and start the coronagraph on my watch.
It's a quirky thing I have about timing things, I wouldn't call it an obsession, I just like to know how much of my life is spent doing something worthwhile as opposed to pissing it away on something not.
On a road trip I chop the journey up in 100 mile increments and 1 hour time blocks.
It's not like I stop the car and run around it three times every hundred miles; I'm not OCD, It just makes the drive in the middle of the night less tedious to me.
Little Sis thinks I'm crazy doing road trips and driving straight through on really long trips. This is only 600 miles, I can do that standing on my head.
The thing I enjoy about driving through the night is the solitude, the non-drivers are sleeping and I drive on through the night and watch for the tell-tell signs of daybreak.
I'm not used to driving in the same direction as the rotation of our planet. As I drive I try to calculate how many miles east I will be by 6:30 AM knowing that it will make sunrise quite a bit earlier than we are used to Indy.
I'm driving Renee's Lexus so it's a nice comfortable ride and it's the University's gas so there's that.
There is a reception for the seminar in DC we want to attend, it's not till 6:00 PM but we wanted to get there as early as possible to do a few hours of sight seeing beforehand.
We arrived at the hotel one hour later then my best estimate due to sitting on the interstate in Maryland dead stopped for an hour. We go up to the room to check out our digs, it's an older hotel but the Washington Hilton is a very nice place. I pull back the curtain and look south, there it it! the Washington Monument! Right there almost within reach. Awesome!
I would find out, looks are deceiving in DC, it's a 2 mile walk to the White House and at least a half mile more to the Washington Monument.
Although we arrived a little later than planned we still had plenty of time to explore so we strike out. Renee lived here for 5 years but that was 20 years ago; she said she loved her time here and she seemed to really enjoy coming back.
We are only 1/2 mile from the Metro at DuPont Circle but we press on by foot walking all the way to the South Lawn of the White House.
I didn't have any protest signs made up so we left the White House without incident and headed back on a bus. I was impressed with what I had seen of DC on this first day. No crack smoking whore mongering mayors seen so far, no drive-by shootings either. The DC I saw was clean and I loved the architecture of all the town houses and buildings, yeah I could live here for a spell, if I could afford it, I can't !
Attending the reception I was on my best behavior knowing I'm the least educated person in the room and this is a business setting. Whenever I'm out of my element I subscribe to the old adage, " it is better to remain silent and be thought a fool then to speak and remove all doubt."
These wise words have been attributed to both Twain and Lincoln among others; since I'm in DC I'll go ahead and give the homage to Lincoln.
Although I enjoy the humor there is some sage advise there and I have seen many people in awkward settings who either did not know this saying or did not heed the sound advice.
I'll have to say the people I met and conversed with at the reception seemed to be really personable and it made for a very enjoyable night.
The trick is to be sociable and listen more than you speak, also consume the never ending adult beverages without removing all doubt.